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Band's Best Friend	By : sillyneko345 Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse Views: 2175 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the cartoon this fic is based off of (Metalocalypse). I make no profit from writing this.

Chapter List
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AN: Has anyone ever noticed how Charles is like the mommy of the Dethklok family? And Nathan is like the daddy? When anyone wants something they always seem to beg Charles, but it’s Nathan who’s decided he has to “officially” approve everything in the long run. Kind of cute, actually. Just throwing that out there…

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LordDogma: An even bigger pet?! Wow, that boggles the mind. Trust them to get Toki the world’s most brutal pony, or something… Glad you’re enjoying!

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Characters: Belong to Small & Blacha. All but Loki… who might not hang around for much longer anyway.

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“So… yeah. I think I know why you wanted me to come now.”

“Thank you, Nathan. I appreciate you taking care of that. We were causing quite a scene.”

Rather disgruntled, Nathan twisted until he could look behind him, into the back seat of the car. Toki moaned slightly, already bruising head lolling, and the bigger man felt a little bad. He hadn’t particularly wanted to bash his rhythm guitarist’s melon against the concrete wall of the emergency vet clinic and then cart his unconscious form out of the building like a sack of Scandinavian potatoes, but he hadn’t exactly been faced with a lot of options.

Toki had been rapidly approaching the “dangerous” phase when two uniformed vet techs had forcibly pried the bloody wolf out of his arms. When he then tried to follow the stretcher bearing his pet through the double doors into surgery, Ofdensen had had to hold him back—something Toki hadn’t liked in the slightest. He was thrashing and screaming incoherently by the time Nathan was finally forced to take matters into his own hands. A remarkably short time later Charles had been able to quietly fill out the proper paperwork while the stunned Norwegian was thrown over Nathan’s huge shoulder and removed to wait in the car.

“Hey. Did you hear that noise he made, right before, uh…” Nathan pantomimed Toki’s head hitting the wall and nearly busted the passenger window out of the car with his own head in the process. “He totally *howled.* Sounded like a fucking wolf himself. It was pretty brutal.”

Charles frowned, the patterns of darkness, sudden light, and more darkness cast by street lights they passed accentuating the lines on his face. “Yes, I heard him quite well. Nathan, I’m… I’m sure you’ve realized that he’s taking this very badly. Loki means a great deal to him.”

The singer huffed, looking predictably uncomfortable. “Yeah. I know.”

“I trust that means you’re going to be mature about all this. I spoke with the surgeon after you left. They’re going to do all they can, but… I’m afraid there’s a very large chance that Toki will never see his wolf again. Please try to be considerate of his feelings.”

“Hey, I’m not a total dick.” Nathan crossed his arms defensively, almost pouting. “Not all the time. And I know what it’s like to have dogs go and die on you, the hairy little bastards. It sucks. I won’t rag him for crying. Like I know he’s gonna.”

Charles almost cracked a smile, recalling ridiculous stories about a certain ‘rascally goofball’ that had made the singer grin while telling them. Maybe Nathan could appreciate Toki’s position a little after all.

“Thank you, Nathan. That’s very… metal of you.” A sudden, broken whine from the back seat made Charles glance at the rearview mirror. “I think he’s coming around. Toki? Are you alright?”

“He won’ts understand why I’s not wit him. He won’ts know why he’s all alone at de ends.” Toki’s voice was deceptively soft, but desperate enough to make Nathan instantly avoid eye contact and Charles reflexively tighten his hands on the wheel. “We’s leaving him dere to die.”

- // - // - // - // -

“Hey. How’d it go?”

Trying hard to be causal and act like they really hadn’t been waiting up quasi-anxiously, Pickles and Murderface approached the returning party. Toki walked right past them, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Tightly clutched in one hand was Loki’s collar. Without even bothering to get some ice for the quickly swelling knot on the side of his head he shuffled silently into the other room and shut the door. Not slammed, just shut. The others stared.

“Sho… I’m guesshing it didn’t go sho well. Jusht a thought.”

“That’s kinda obvious.” Pickles rolled his eyes, then turned to Charles. “But jest ‘cause Loki ain’t with ‘em doesn’t mean he’s dead. He could jest hafta stay at the vet’s tonight. Right, Charlie?”

With a deep sigh Ofdensen sought out a nearby chair and sank down into it, loosening his tie almost as an afterthought. “Well, Loki is going to be staying at the clinic… for an indefinite amount of time.”

The drummer’s face fell. “Ah, crap. He’s gonna die, isn’t he?”

“Told ya sho.”

“Hey, shaddup. A guy can dream.”

“At the moment he’s in critical condition. I understand the chances of him making it through the night are slim, but the doctor assures us he’ll call with any updates in the morning.”

“Wow.” Skwisgaar was finally beginning to believe that something was seriously wrong, and seemed a little lost as to how to react. “Dat’s… dat is… wow.”

Pickles looked thoughtful. “Well, I guess there’s only one thing ta do now.”

“Go get drunk?” Nathan guessed.

“Nope. I’m gonna go let the rest’a the yard wolves inside. Toki’ll barely miss his wolf if there’s a whole pack of ‘em runnin’ around.”

Nathan perked and nodded approvingly. “Hey, that’s a good idea.”

“No, it isn’t!” Charles looked like he was quickly developing a headache. “Pickles, do not let those animals loose in here. All of them are destructive and none of them are housebroken.”

“Oh, yeah…” A little crestfallen, the drummer nonetheless managed to notice the pained grimace trying to make itself known on their manager’s face. “Wow, Charlie. You look pretty bad. Everythin’ okay?”

“Yes, of course. Besides the fact that I’m directly responsible for the imminent death of Toki’s wolf, everything is fine and dandy.”

Murderface huffed. “Now you’re jusht being sharcashtic. It’sh not your fault the shtupid thing ate poishon ratsh for dinner.”

“No, but I should have anticipated a problem. When I gave orders for poison to be put down I completely forgot about Loki and the fact that he would be likely to get into it somehow. The wolf was a factor I should have taken into consideration. So in that respect it is my fault. I owe Toki a very big apology.” He gave a very un-Charles-like rub to the back of his neck. “Of all the times I could have made a mistake, it had to be something like this...”

“Hey, come on. It’s not like it’s a big deal.” Nathan shrugged. “Stuff dies around here a lot. Uh, I mean, *really* a lot. Nothing to beat yourself up about.”

But it was different this time, they all knew. Loki wasn’t a nameless fan or one of a never-ending supply of black hoods or the withered ficus in the dining room no one had ever bothered to water. He was Toki’s friend, and as such could not be readily replaced. Having something die that would actually be missed was another matter entirely. It would also go a long way toward explaining why the most brutal metal band on earth was trying to console their manager, rather than taking the golden opportunity to revel in his unusual lapse of perfection.

“Charlie. Hey, Charlie.” Pickles knocked on the arm of the chair to get his attention. “I’m going to the kitchen. Ya know, where the booze lives? An’ I strongly believe you should come with me.”

Ofdensen raised a brow inquiringly. “Why would I do that?”

“So we can get drunk off our asses an’ ferget about all this ‘til the doc calls in the morning an’ we know the furry guy’s really dead. Beats waitin’ sober.”

To the infinite surprise of all, Charles finally nodded. “I suppose I can see the sense in that. Maybe a drink or two would do me good right now.”

“Drunk!” Pickles declared triumphantly. “Drunk off our asses. The liquor is calling.”

“We’ll see. I’m going to go hang up my jacket and make a few calls, and then I’ll join you.” Ofdensen already looked better when he stood up. Having a concrete plan of action, of any sort, always seemed to make him less tense. “As for the rest of you… Ah, Skwisgaar, thank you. I was just going to ask that someone check on Toki.”

The Swede, who had crept unnoticed to the door and was peeking into the other room through a small crack, predictably jumped when Charles called him on it. “N-nej, I was nots *checkings* on Toki! Why woulds I do’s dat? I’s trying to see if he’s is crying like little cries-babies yet, dat’s all!”

“I see. Well, someone please make sure he’s alright. I’ll see you in a while, Pickles.”

“What’sh Toki doing?” Murderface asked as their manager took his leave. “Ish he crying? Cutting himshelf? Committing shuischide? Ish he doing it right?”

“He’s just laying’s dere on de sofa.” Skwisgaar shrugged. “On his face. Maybe he tries to stuffs-vocate his-self.”

“Lemme see.” Slinking up to the door where the blonde had been, Pickles peeked in. “Yep, he’s jest layin’ there with his face in the cushions. Poor kid.”

Murderface shook his head sadly. “Pathetic. Totally agree.”

Nathan frowned. “Come on, you guys. We gotta knock this off. It sounds like we give a shit, and caring’s not brutal. Is it really, you know. Worth it?”

The men paused to think it over. Take time out of their busy schedules to show sympathy for their youngest band mate in his time of need and risk their carefully cultivated brutality flushing itself down the crapper? Or, let Toki lie on the sofa until he fused with it and never make another album with any kind of decent rhythm guitar involved? It was a hard decision.

“Well, hey, you guys?” Pickles finally, tentatively, after another peek into the other room, broke the silence. “Maybe the ‘no caring’ rule can go bye-bye, jest fer tonight? An’ later we’ll do like usual an’ pretend like it never happened.”

Nathan slowly lifted a hand to drag through his tangled hair, rumpled from the short but intense struggle at the vet’s. “Yeah… Yeah, maybe that’d be kind of a good idea. As long as we don’t talk about it later, right? I guess he is kind of, really. Really beat up about this.”

No one bothered to question why the unofficial rule could be lifted for the sake of a mortally ill wolf when it had not been for a mortally ill Norwegian reverend. It was common knowledge that Toki’s father had been a jack-off. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, everyone present sort of liked the animal in question. It was no contest which would get the vote of sympathy.

“So who’s gonna go make Toki feel better?” Nathan growled. “Somebody better talk to him. And I don’t think he really wants to see me right now.”

“How ‘bout Shkwishgaar? Toki likesh him okay.”

The blonde balked. “Pfft. No he’s doesn’t. We fights all de times. Makes Pickle do it.”

“Hey, I already gotta go cheer Charlie up,” Pickles protested. “He’s pretty upset about all this, too. Go on, Skwis. Jest this once. You guys, like… understand each other, an’ shit.”

“I understands dat dis is a bunches of bull,” the Swede retorted. Nevertheless, he resigned himself to the task. “What shoulds I say?”

“I dunno, jest… say whatever. Take his mind off the wolf. Make sure he doesn’t go catatonic or anything, if he’s not already. Stuff like that. An’ hey. Be friendly, if ya think ya can handle that.”

Mass grumbling and a lighting fast flicker of fingers on guitar strings was all the answer Pickles got, but he seemed to take it as an acceptable promise that the blonde would do his utmost to make their little rhythm guitarist happy. Happier. Not depressed to the point of freezing up. Satisfied, the drummer headed for the kitchen.

“So what are you gonna do?” Nathan asked Murderface.

“I dunno. What are you gonna do?”

Their evening had been shot to hell, and the men were bored. Hot tub night wouldn’t be all that fun with three out of five band members occupied elsewhere, and no rambunctious wolf running around the edge of the tub until it finally got up the nerve to jump in. That was pretty funny. It had been absolutely hysterical the first time Skwisgaar and his guitar suddenly disappeared under the hot water with an almighty splash, a sopping wet and confused looking wolf practically sitting on his shoulders. Toki had nearly drowned himself laughing and Pickles had actually had beer coming out his nose in his hilarity.

“I dunno. Can’t stop thinking about the damn dog. Wolf. Whatever the hell it is.”

“Yeah, me too.” Suddenly, Murderface had a bright idea. “Wait a shecond. I know what I’m gonna do!”

“What?”

“I’m gonna make shomething for Toki that’ll totally make him feel better.” Murderface grinned with something akin to the light of artistic inspiration in his eyes. “He’sh gonna love thish.”

“Well what the hell are you gonna make?”

“I’m gonna make him a taxschidermy shtand.”

Nathan frowned. “A what?”

“You know, a shtand you put an animal on when it’sh been shtuffed. If we shtuff the wolf Toki can keep it forever! He’ll be sho happy to have it back I bet he’ll forget it’sh even dead. We’ll put it by the fireplasche and he can pet it whenever he wantsh to…”

“Hey, yeah!” Nathan was obviously getting into the idea. “I could help, I guess. Nothing better to do tonight. How do you make one?”

“Well you shtart with shome boards for the bottom part, then make it look all natural. We schould get a bunsch of mossch and leavesh for the base.”

“And a piece of wood or something. Like a big tree branch. Make it look like, you know. Like he’s running through the woods and stuff. This’ll be awesome. Dead animals in the décor is awesome!”

Skwisgaar sighed deeply as they left, discussing where branches and leaves could be obtained at this time of night and who was going to have to go get muddy digging up the moss. “I’s surroundeds by dildos…”

Now the Swede was all alone. It was time to go do his part in the evening’s drama—cheering up Toki.

“Why’s I always gots to get stuck doing de stupids job? Pickle gets to go be’s drunk, Nat’an and Murdersface gets to have artsy craftsies time, and what does I gets to do? Spends time wits cries-babies Toki!”

Still, despite his monologue of quiet whining, Skwisgaar sidled up to the door and took another look in at the other guitarist. Toki had not moved since the first time he had checked. He was still lying motionless on his face, hair splayed every which way, clutching the leather wolf collar so hard that its metal spikes dug into his palms and left blood on the sofa—

The blonde scowled. Toki should take better care of his hands. How would he play if they got messed up? Straightening his back resolutely, Skwisgaar tightened his grip on the Explorer and set his mind to being civil, if not outright friendly. Just for tonight, he could be nice to Toki.

With a confident flip of his golden hair, the lead pushed open the door and wandered in to confront his band mate. How hard could this possibly be?

- // - // - // - // -

To be continued…

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(2nd)AN: Well, Loki continues to linger. These chapters are coming along pretty fast, so we should know of his ultimate fate soon!
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Band's Best Friend