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From Dreams to Reality	By : Pat4pat Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse > Het- Male/Female Views: 1566 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse or Dethklok. I do not make money from this story.

Chapter List
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Obviously I don't own Dethklok or Metalocalypse…but I hope you enjoy my next chapter! Thanks for reading! Reviews are most welcome!
Pat
Why is he just standing there staring at me like that? Layla shifted uncomfortably under the drummer's stare. She forced a shy smile across her lips, lifting her eyes to meet Pickles' intense gaze. His green eyes seemed darker than usual, lost in intense thoughts.
To avoid any more seconds of awkwardness, Layla walked towards the fridge and pulled out a loaf of bread. She grabbed two pieces from the bag.
"Do you need to use the toaster first?" she asked Pickles.
He blinked a few times, still staring at her, and then regained composure.
"Ah, no. You go for it." He said in his yooper accent.
Layla gave another shy smile and tried to maneuver herself around the drummer to get to the toaster. Her scent wafted past his nostrils. She was so close to him. He contemplated about reaching out and touching her.
With shame, Pickles knew he would give anything to run his hands through the dark tresses of her long hair. He would stroke the smooth skin of her face with his hand, running his thumb across her full lips as her hazel eyes regarded him tenderly. He noticed how her t-shirt and jeans hugged the obvious womanly curves she possessed.
She smells so damn good, he thought, What am I so afraid of? Just do it. Just touch her…No! Pickles pulled his hand back, not even realizing that he had lifted his arm towards her body. Oh shit, I gotta get outta here!
Layla turned to talk with Pickles while she waited for the toaster, but he had already left. With a frown she rested against the counter.
It had already been a couple months since she moved into Mordhaus with Uncle Charles and Dethklok. Her father, Charles' only brother, and her mother had mysteriously gone missing. She just came home one day from school to find them gone without a trace. The police had no leads and were at a loss for their disappearance. There was nothing they could do to help her. The only remaining family she had left was her uncle. Charles had no choice but to take her in, unwilling as he was. But he had said she was at least safer here then out on her own. Well, what the hell did that mean? Her parent's disappearance was just an accident…right?
Layla fought back a couple tears from slipping down her cheeks. Where were they? Did they leave her? Or did something really bad happen to them?
At that moment, two pieces of toast went flying up in the air. One landed on the counter while the other plopped on the ground by her foot.
"Well, I wasn't that hungry anyway." Layla murmured to herself, bending down to pick up her lost piece of breakfast.
"Who is you talkings to?"
Layla looked up to see a smiling Toki.
"Oh, just myself." Layla laughed, recomposing herself quickly, "Good morning, Toki!"
"Good morning, Layla! Hows you sleep last night?"
"Good, thanks." Layla smiled. At least someone has the decency to answer me.
Layla pushed her previous thoughts from her mind and sat down at the table, munching on her piece of toast. She watched Toki walk around the kitchen looking for various items for his morning meal.
Toki began to ramble about last night's festivities to Layla, but she was already lost in her thoughts yet again.
Everyone was so nice to her, well, as nice as she assumed they could be. When she first came to Mordhaus she was so shy and scared of Dethklok. With the recent disappearance of her parents, she felt so flustered being thrown into a household, if you could call Mordhaus a simple house, with a bunch of men and their servants. Hell, she was still naturally timid around everyone, even her uncle. But as the months went by, she learned each of the band member's different personalities.
Nathan looked huge and scary, but in reality, he was just a big, dumb teddy bear. And William could be horribly crude, but she just did her best to avoid him. Skwisgaar was the one her uncle Charles was the most worried about. He was a complete womanizer and would screw anything so long as it was a female. But Charles had a long, perhaps threatening, talk with Skwisgaar the day after Layla moved in. Toki was by far her favorite person in the house. He was sweet and childish, but he was always nothing but kind to her.
Toki tried his hardest to bring up Layla's spirits. The first few months would've been absolute hell had it not been for Toki. He held her up through a world of penetrating darkness, swarming around her.
The few rare worries Charles held towards Layla was to keep her safe, in all senses, against Dethklok. Hence, Layla wasn't allowed into any of the band members rooms. But after much pleading and prodding by Toki towards Charles, Layla could at least freely hang out with Toki. He would show her his plane models and other various items he had created. He had even let her paint a few of his finished models. Though it took her awhile to even begin to remotely understand what he was saying to her in his broken English, she enjoyed her time spent with Toki.
Toki was sweet and becoming a dear friend to Layla, but it wasn't his childish demeanor that she wanted. Layla couldn't understand why, but she always felt a strange tug towards Pickles.
She remembered the first day she ever met him. Uncle Charles had brought her into their game room. She was so nervous; her heart was beating up in her throat. She remembered trying not to cry in front of Dethklok; she was trying to be as brave as possible, given her situation
"Gentlemen, please!" Charles had said, pushing the band members back. They had crowded around the shy girl, curious to see who their new roommate would be.
Each said their hellos and totally disregarded Charles as he explained about Layla's circumstances. Layla desperately tried to tune out her uncle's voice from her ears. His reminder of why she had come to live at Mordhaus was not something she wanted to rehear again. Instead she distracted herself by surveying the room. There were games of all sorts, a huge television screen, a computer, and a hot tub. And that's when Pickles had caught her eye. He had stood back a little from the rest of the group. He was medium height with fair skin and a very slight beer belly. He had long, red dreadlocks, a goatee with sideburns, and both eyebrows pierced twice.
She looked up towards his face and their eyes met. Green eyes regarded her with equal curiosity. Something sparked inside of Layla's chest, but she could not pinpoint the feeling. It seemed as though minutes had passed as they gazed into each other's eyes, but Pickles had quickly turned away with a scowl. It looked as though something had upset him. Layla looked back down at the floor, slightly hurt. But she had never met the man before, why did it matter if he liked her or not?
Well, it didn't matter anymore what Pickles thought of her. He had rarely spoken to her at all since she moved in. When they were in a room together, she could feel his gaze on her; but he always tried his best to avoid her. What did she ever do to him? Nothing that she could recall. Well then, what was his problem? Layla reminded herself that it didn't matter anymore what Pickles thought of her. After tomorrow, no one would ever have to worry about running into pitiable Layla again…
"Are you listenings?" Toki exclaimed.
Jumping in her chair, Layla snapped herself back to reality and forced a smile at Toki.
"Sorry, yes."
"Wells, then, whats do you thinks?"
"What do I think about what?"
Toki frowned at Layla's lack of attention, "Joining us next times we has a party!"
"Oh…" Layla looked down at her toast. "I don't think Uncle Charles would be a big fan of that." Besides, I won't be around for the next one…
Layla looked back up at her Norwegian friend. She couldn't help but smile back at his cheerful demeanor. She'd miss him.
Better off safe to play along. "Toki, I'm only 17. I'm pretty sure Uncle Charles will be against me drinking."
"You don't has to drinks! Just comes out and hangs with Toki. And in a couple weeks, you be 18! Thens you an adult and can do whatevers you likes!"
Layla laughed, "I'll be an adult but I still can't legally drink. Besides, there's no way Uncle Charles will let me hang out while you all party. He says you're all too dangerous for me."
Toki's smile faded from his face, "Evens Toki?"
"No, no! Not you Toki! Just, the other guys."
Layla sighed. Toki was now looking down with a sad frown on his face. She couldn't let their friendship end this way.
"Hey, how 'bout we work on that one plane of yours today?" Layla said, "We haven't had a chance to hang out in awhile. Just you and me." My last day.
A new smile spread across Toki's face. He shot up from the table and grabbed Layla by the hand, leading her out the door.
"Okays, let's go!" he exclaimed.
"But Toki, the dishes…" Layla didn't even bother to finish her sentence as she was pulled by the hand towards Toki's room.
They were just around the corner, almost to Toki's room, when they bumped into Pickles.
"Oh hi, Pickle!" Toki said happily.
"Hey Toki. Where ya goin'?" Pickles asked with a strong accent.
"Layla and me are goings to work on my planes!"
Pickles tensed a bit as he suddenly noticed Layla behind Toki. He was such an idiot in the kitchen, fumbling for words then running away like a coward. But he just couldn't trust himself around Layla alone. Christ, he had nearly grabbed at the poor girl. She was shy and sensitive enough as it was. The last thing she needed was an older guy taking advantage of her. He felt like a dirty prick.
"Hi Pickles." Layla smiled shyly. Remember his face. This is the last time…
"Hey" Pickles responded quietly. Layla's eyes were scanning his face, as if she were taking mental pictures of his image. Pickles was now the one shifting uncomfortably under her gaze.
He looked down and noticed her hand still grasped in Toki's. Pickles felt his blood beginning to boil. I got no goddamn reason to feel this way. They're just friends. They hang out all the time, he thought.
"I'm goings to ask Charles if Layla can hangs out with us next time we has a party." Toki brought Pickles back from his dark thoughts.
"Oh, ah, I don't know if that's a good idea, Toki."
Pickles stole another glance towards Layla. She was now looking down at her feet, fidgeting with her jean pocket. The last thing Pickles wanted was to be drunk with his defenses down around Layla. God knew if he'd let his primal urges go in his weakest state of mind.
"You ares a party pooper." Toki frowned at Pickles.
"Well, whatever." Pickles mumbled, "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit."
Pickles turned on his heel and walked towards his room; he didn't risk taking one more glance towards the beautiful creature that haunted his dreams. He could hear Toki's broken English as he continued to ramble at Layla.
As he walked towards his room, Pickles wondered what Layla's hands felt like to touch. They would be small and soft against his calloused hands. He could almost feel their gentle glide down his naked torso and around his bare back as she would clutch on to him for support.
"Jesus Christ, support for what?" Pickles asked himself as he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him.
Frustrated, he plopped himself on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Pickles scowled as his dirty mind raced with thoughts of what he'd like Layla's soft hands to do to his body. If he was too high strung to sleep, then maybe he could use a helper. Pickles reached under his bed and grabbed the first bottle he felt.
"Vodka." He smirked to himself, "That'll do the trick."
He downed what was left of the bottle quickly. In a drunken state, Pickles began to relax against the soft comforter and pillow beneath him. The empty vodka bottle slipped from his fingers and clanked onto the ground. Before his eyes shut and he surrendered to an alcohol induced sleep, he guiltily hoped that a repeat of last night's dream would be in store for him. If not, at least the future held chances for him to glimpse his beautiful Layla one more time.
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From Dreams to Reality