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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: When three men bust into an emergency vet clinic in the middle of the night with a very large and severely ill wild animal, and those three men are Nathan, Toki, and Ofdensen… trust no one to ask questions or demand to see their permit for keeping said animal. Only Dethklok could get away with it.

Characters: Everyone but Loki belongs to Small & Blacha. I just like to make them cry.

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Skwisgaar strolled into the room, looking as relaxed and casual as possible. He played it cool, as if he were going to ask Toki something mundane like what was on TV that evening rather than say anything that denoted he might be worried about the younger musician.

“Hey dere, Toki. What’s is up?”

There was no response. Good. The Swede hadn’t expected one. Everything was going as planned. He wandered over to the couch Toki was silently occupying and seated himself at one end with that head of messy brown hair a little more than a foot from his leg. Not too close, but not too far away. A companionable distance.

He decided not to beat around the bush. “So. Dey tells me your wolfs is pretty sick.”

“Go aways, Skwisgaar.” Toki didn’t move when he quietly answered, didn’t lift his face. Obviously he was in no mood for the blonde’s usual insulting and childish behavior. However, a response of any kind meant that he wasn’t dead to the world. Skwisgaar took that as a positive sign.

“Don’ts be a dildo, Toki. I’s here to keeps your companies.”

“I don’ts want no companies. Go aways.”

“Of course you wants my companies. Everybody wants my companies.” Considering the matter firmly settled, the Swede reached over with one hand and tugged at the collar in Toki’s hands. “You’s cuttings up yours fingers, idiot. Grab for somet’ing part dat doesn’t gots no spikes ons it.”

While his first reaction was to growl and pull his tightly clenched hands closer against himself, Toki did finally shift his grip to a part of the band that was more leather and less steel. Then he resumed quietly lying face down. Back to square one.

Skwisgaar pondered. What could he use to strike up a conversation? “I sees yous been a clumsy little Toki and drops yours Dethphone. Yous going to knocks de battery out agains.”

“Don’ts touch it. I’s waiting for de vets-train-arians to call.”

The blonde frowned, hitching his guitar higher onto his lap and letting the chunky, spiked phone drop back to the floor next to the sofa. “Fine. But dey’s not goings to call until de morning, yous know. Yous gonna be waitings a while.”

“I don’ts care. I wait.”

“Dat’s a long wait. So you needs my companies after all.” Skwisgaar smiled smugly, though Toki couldn’t see it. “I sits up wit you, ja?”

“What does you care, Skwisgaar?” The brunette sounded more drained, more resigned than angry or annoyed. It was incredibly unlike the young man who would normally fly into verbal brawls with anyone at a moment’s notice. “You hates Loki.”

“No I doesn’t.”

“Yes you does.”

“No, I doesn’t. I don’ts hate your wolf.”

“Yes you does. You says you does every day.”

Skwisgaar snorted, but it lacked the usual animosity. “Pffft. Why woulds I hate de wolf dat saves your life, huh? Dat doesn’t makes much sense.”

“Sure it’s does. You hates me. You hates Loki for savings me. If he doesn’t save me den you doesn’t has to worries about me ever gettings better dan you.”

Skwisgaar sighed deeply. If he were brutally honest with himself he could admit that on that night he had been mother fucking *scared.* Seeing, as if in slow motion, the disguised lunatic run at his little band mate with live steel menacingly upraised and being too far away to do anything more than bark a warning he knew would be reacted to too late... it didn’t bear remembering. As they had found out after the fact, the madman had only been out for Toki’s blood in order to defend the lead guitarist’s title. If anything really, truly bad happened to Toki and it were Skwisgaar’s fault, even indirectly…

The blonde shook off a small shudder at the thought. It was alright now. Disaster had been averted, by what had seemed at the time like a thunderbolt of snarling gray fur and slashing white teeth.

He had petted Loki that night. When all was said and done, and the doctors had done an emergency patch job on the wolf’s stab wounds, and the rest of the band had gone off excitedly to dig up a proper reward for the furry hellion turned hero—Skwisgaar had lagged behind, thoughtfully tuning his guitar and thinking. Then, finally, he had sat down beside the drugged and dozing animal on the very sofa he and Toki now occupied, and stroked its velvety ears for the first time.

“Good wolf,” he had said, very quietly. “T’anks you.” A drowsy thump of tail against cushions was all the response he had gotten, but he was confident the message had gotten through.

“I woulds hate de wolf for not savings you,” Skwisgaar spit out abruptly, before he could change his mind. “Beings de fastest…” He debated the next words, twiddling the strings of the Explorer and grimacing. Oh, what the hell. There was no one else in the room to hear, and they would be conveniently forgetting about all this tomorrow anyway. Might as well finish the thought. “Beings de best doesn’t means so much when you doesn’t has to work for it.”

Toki went very still, face still mashed into the cushion.

The Swede hoped like hell that the other would just let the admission, as it was, go. He wanted to come out and tell Toki—again—that he and his annoying competition were needed like we wanted to undergo a root canal without anesthetic. And he wanted to admit that the irritating little Norwegian was the closest thing he had to a best friend, competition factor notwithstanding, even less.

“Okays.”

Skwisgaar raised a golden brow. It looked like Toki wasn’t in the mood to make him suffer. Alright. That was good. Now, how could he get the younger guitarist in any kind of mood at all? Preferably a better one? Once Skwisgaar put his mind to something, he didn’t give up easily.

“You knows, Toki,” he began conversationally. “I hads a dog once, too.”

“You dids?” Toki sounded a bit interested, at least, though he didn’t lift his face from the couch.

“Ja, when I’s was young. A little white dog. She follows me home one day and I keeps her.”

“Reallies?” At last Toki turned his face to the side. The skin of his nose and cheeks was red from prolonged contact with the coarse fabric. “Whats was her name?”

“Snö. I’s was not very much creatives back den.” Nor was he now, but that was beside the point. At least he had Toki’s attention, for the moment. “She was a good little girl. I likes her a lots.”

“What happeneds to her?” Toki asked softly.

Immediately Skwisgaar frowned, plucking faster at the strings. He sure didn’t want to tell Toki that his mother had told her current boyfriend to drown the little dog as soon as she realized her worthless son was hiding it in his room. So, he made something up. “My mudder wouldn’ts lets me keeps her for long, so’s she found a differents place to live. Wits lots of kids to plays wit.”

“Dat’s good. A happies ending.” The rhythmist smiled softly for a moment, before his face fell once more. “But nots for you. I sorries you couldn’t keeps your dog, Skwisgaar.” He fell silent a moment, waxing thoughtful, then sighed very quietly. “I hopes I can keeps mine.”

For the first time in a long time Skwisgaar hit a sour note. He flinched at the derelict twang, but Toki declined to comment. If he had noticed at all. Damn Toki! How could someone who usually seemed so spoiled, so selfish, so childish, possibly spare any sadness for his archrival’s loss of a dog fifteen years gone when his own beloved pet laid on its deathbed?

The blonde cleared his throat. “You wills be able to keeps Loki, Toki. He’s is going to be fine.”

“I hopes so.”

Skwisgaar didn’t like that hopeless tone. It contradicted the entire statement. “Well I knows so—and betweens me and you I is usually de one dat is right, I be’s reminding you. Manager Ofdensens finds de best vets-train-arians dat money cans pay for. Charles doesn’t pick de wrongs people. It’s is against his job’s religions.” The blonde smiled despite himself. “Besides. Dat wolf is beings very much too stupid to die. It stays alive just to makes trouble fors us and pees on my rug.”

Toki merely whimpered softly, turning his face back into the cushion and holding the collar tighter. If only it were that simple. The Reverend Wartooth had been none too smart, and he had sure made a hell of a lot of trouble for Toki, but he had certainly managed to go and kick the bucket easily enough. There were no guarantees, and try as the blonde might to stay uncharacteristically positive there just weren’t any good answers to give at a time like this.

Suppressing a sigh, Skwisgaar absently let his free hand trail the cleft of the sofa cushions before dipping inside. This wasn’t getting them anywhere, but for some reason he was still unwilling to give up so soon and leave Toki to his misery. There had to be something he could say or do that would make the younger guitarist feel better.

//Comes on, Skwisgaar, thinks. It’s is there, you knows it is! Just reach fors it, reach fors it…!//

The tips of his fingers brushed something paper. The blonde’s eyebrows rose. What the hell was that? Probably a cruddy old candy wrapper of Toki’s, or a stray label drunkenly picked off a bottle of booze by Pickles, or something equally unsavory. Disgusting. Though loath to continue touching garbage, the Swede was loather to leave it in the sofa where he sat every day. Making a face and curling long fingers around the unknown object, he pulled it out of the cushions.

It was a banana sticker.

Skwisgaar stared at the fruits of his sofa spelunking venture for half a beat before dexterously peeling the waxy back off the unused sticker one handed. “Hey, Toki. Looks up here.”

With a sniff, the Norwegian slowly lifted his head—and found the sticker firmly affixed to the tip of his nose. Skwisgaar’s finger held it in place for a long moment, just to make sure it was sticking properly. Going comically and rather adorably cross-eyed, Toki stared down at his nose the best he could.

“Skwisgaar, whats is…?”

The long, pale hand finally retreated. But the banana sticker stayed, and so did the friendly smile on the blonde’s face as he chuckled. “Silly Toki. Has a sticker. Dey makes everyt’ings better, ja?”

As if on cue, those icy blue eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Skwisgaar! You really *is* my friend afters all!”

The Swede made a very comical face, flinching away as if he had been backhanded when Toki lunged forward and wrapped strong arms around his waist. “Ack! Toki, gets off of me! Lets go!”

Completely ignoring the commands, Toki continued to cry and cling. He was still stretched out across most of the sofa, but had anchored his arms around Skwisgaar’s middle and buried his tear-streaked face against the blonde’s hip. He showed no signs of letting go any time soon. Skwisgaar struggled and squirmed, placing a hand on the top of Toki’s head to shove him away, but to no avail. The younger man was just too strong, and apparently determined to cling to the crumb of comfort the Swede had tossed his way.

Finally Skwisgaar quit fighting. He collapsed back into the much-abused sofa with a defeated sigh and flew up and down the scales a few times on the Explorer to calm himself. “Alrights. Fine. Just… stays dere, den. Sees if I cares.”

Toki hung on for a long time. He continued to cry, and Skwisgaar could feel a wet patch slowly seeping through the cloth of his pants. The blonde cringed, imagining the snot that was undoubtedly mixed in with the tears. He had somehow instinctively known that they wouldn’t come out of this encounter without some sort of embarrassing crying fit taking place, but… how gross. However, he did not try to shove Toki away again. His soggy fate had been accepted, for the moment at least.

Eventually the Norwegian’s sobs softened to a more quiet type of crying, and finally faded to mere whimpers and wet sniffles. Despite himself, Skwisgaar let one hand fall to awkwardly pat Toki’s head. “Yous feeling all betters now, maybes?”

Toki sniffed. “A liddle.”

“It’s is getting real late. You shoulds get some sleep, ja?”

“Nei, I can’ts sleep. Whats if de vets-train-arians calls and I misses it?”

“Well…” Skwisgaar considered for a brief moment, then shrugged mentally. What the hell. He had already come this far; he could go the extra mile. “Maybe I stays awake and listens for de phone, and wakes you up when de vets calls.”

Toki looked up at him with glistening eyes, wide with disbelief. “Reallies? You does dat for mes?”

“Ja, why nots. You needs to sleep, Toki. You looks terrible.” It was the true truth, and Skwisgaar didn’t feel a bit bad for pointing it out. “Goes to bed. It’s be good fors you.”

After a long pause the brunette nodded the slightest bit. “Okays, Skwisgaar, I goes to sleep. T’anks you… you’s such a pal.” And then, without any more warning, he snuggled his cheek against the Swede’s thigh and closed his tired eyes.

Skwisgaar’s own eye developed a sudden tick. “Toki, what in de hell does you t’inks you ams doing? You can’ts sleeps dere! Goes to your room and sleeps in your bed!”

“Nei, nei, I has to be rights near you and de phone so yous can wakes me up real quick when de vets calls. Good nights, Skwisgaar.”

The blonde took a deep breath to begin shouting at Toki, tell him all the different reasons why that logic was skewed and explain exactly why he had no reason in the world to use Skwisgaar as a pillow. But then, he had to pause. Did he honestly want to listen to another round of crying before bodily forcing Toki up to sleep in his own bed? Not really. Was spending the remainder of the evening in blessed silence actually worth sacrificing bedroom time with the ladies and putting up with a snoring Norwegian in his lap? Probably.

//Oh wells. Is only for dis one singles night, I’s guessing. De rest of dose dildos is owing me real big time for dis. Nots like I wants Toki leanings on me all nights, beings all warm, and… and heavy, and… soft… Pffft. Stupids baby Toki.//

By the time he had made the decision Toki was asleep. Skwisgaar had been right on all counts; the younger guitarist’s mental exhaustion coupled with the exertion of his sobbing stint had pulled him under faster than a dose of Pickles’ top of the line Quaaludes. One of his arms still curled around the blonde’s waist, while the other stayed pulled to his chest holding onto the collar. Skwisgaar reached down with a free hand and gently tugged the strip of leather away from his snoozing band mate. It would be just their luck if Toki rolled on it and drove one of the spikes through his neck during the night.

“Hey, yous.” He managed to quietly catch the attention of the next passing Klokateer. “Brings him his deddy bear. Ands a blanket. De cries-babies needs somet’ing softer to holds onto.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Skwisgaar tried to reassure himself, as the hood set off for Toki’s room at a smart pace, that nothing about their current position looked gay. The Klokateers had seen a lot worse when that nut Twinkletits had his hooks in the band, and none of them had commented then. Surely they weren’t going to laugh at him now, when he was simply offering the rhythmist a shoulder—er, lap to lean on.

“Pfft. Hoods. What does dey matter, anysway?” he muttered to himself.

Skwisgaar was fiddling with his guitar in earnest when the Klokateer returned with the desired goods. He ignored it when Toki was diligently covered with a soft black blanket and Deddy Bear was carefully tucked under the arm that wasn’t wrapped around the blonde.

“Will there be anything else, my lord?”

Skwisgaar waved him away airily. “Nej, we’s good. You cans go.”

With a nod, the Klokateer left them alone in the large room. It was dim and chilly and very quiet. The fluid squeaks and twangs of the Swede’s guitar seemed inordinately loud. He sighed as Toki nestled in contentedly, then yawned widely.

“Is goings to be really long night.”

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

Meanwhile, in an imposing brick building several miles away, a young wolf was embroiled in a quiet struggle.

Loki wanted to sleep. Wanted to badly… but couldn’t. Because wolves that were hurt and closed their eyes sometimes never opened their eyes again. And because… there was something else, some other reason.

Oh, yes, that was it. Because he slept next to Toki, and Toki wasn’t anywhere near this cramped wire cage that smelled of medicine and antiseptic, in this bare room with its harsh florescent lighting and the uncertain whines of other animals.

Even more than he wanted to sleep, Loki wanted to be back with his chosen person. Toki, whose bed he shared, whose feet he slept on and kept warm. Toki, who sometimes shuddered and tossed in the dead of night.

Toki *needed* him, needed someone to stealthily uncurl from the foot of the bed and creep up to gently lay a shaggy head on his chest until he quieted. Someone had to be there to glare up at the pictures on the wall, daring the grim souls within the frames to just try it, just try again to touch his friend-master-god, his Toki. Someone who would lie there all night, wild eyes gleaming watchfully in the darkness until the shadows receded and it was morning, time for exercises and breakfast and band practice that wolves couldn’t attend but where other strong pack mates with guitars and drumsticks and microphones would keep Toki company in his stead until they could be together again.

Wearily, Loki felt his eyes slipping shut. Perhaps he would close them for a moment. But not to sleep. For just a moment…

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(2nd)AN: Next chapter is the last! Finally, the fate of the wolf will be revealed -- and two guitarists will get a little close. I hope you all drop in to see what comes about.

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Band's Best Friend