dragonzfire718 (dragonzfire718) wrote in dethslash, @ 2009-09-05 15:03:00 |
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Current mood: | creative |
Current music: | Cannibal Corpse- Evisceration Plague |
Entry tags: | fic-pickles/toni, fic-r |
I actually wrote something!!!
Memories
Author: Dragonzfire718
Rating: I’m gonna say R…I think
Pairing: Pickles/Tony mainly. If you squint and smash your face against the screen there are others.
Warnings: Slash (no actual sex though), Angst, Violence, Language, Self harm
Summary: Pickles is left with himself to think.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. They belong to Brendon Small and I’m just borrowing them to have my way with them, then returning them
A/N: Yayyyyy my first Metalocalypse fic! Italics mean flashback. Sorry if this might be a little confusing. Also, writing how Pickles talks is a pain. But, I think I’m getting the hang of it…lol…I might continue from here with more chapters. It just depends on how lazy I am and what direction I want to take it…lol.
It was wonderfully peaceful in Mordhaus. It was a rarity, but to the Klokateers it was welcomed. Toki and Skwisgaar were both locked in their individual rooms, due to a very heated argument (or lovers spat as Murderface called it). Nathan and Murderface, not wanting to deal with the Scandinavians, took off to a titty bar for the night. All that was left was Pickles. He hated the peace and quiet, being able to be by himself. No matter how much he bitched and complained about the rest of the band, he hated being by himself more. It gave him too much time to think. It was times like these that made him drink even more or do more drugs than usual.
When Pickles had to amuse himself, he often reminisces about his life. Each time it was a different thought, a different memory. This time was no different. He had started drinking, more than half finished a bottle of whiskey. He had begun his binge in the hot tub, but decided it way too boring without the rest of the band. He wanted to continue his binge in his room. He stumbled his way through Mordhaus, walking down wrong corridors and going in circles at some points. Eventually he made his way to his desired destination.
He sat at the edge of his bed, several bottles of booze by his feet, staring at his hands, specifically his sweatbands. Underneath was a secret he’s kept for years. No one in Dethklok knows how bad things had gotten for Pickles before he joined. The pain and struggling and how his world practically crumbled around him.
During Snakes and Barrels, Pickles had everything. He had money, drugs, booze, his youth and his lover Tony by his side. He was invincible. Or so he thought. In the beginning the band was unstoppable, topping all charts. No one was better than Snakes and Barrels and everyone wanted to be just like them. Behind the scenes only the band knew there was a romance happening. Pickles and Tony was the “super couple” of the 80’s. But with all the good times there had to be bad.
The band was on top of the world. But, when you’re that high up there’s only one way to go, and that was down. Throughout the years each band member picked up different drug habits and they continually got worse. There were numerous close calls with overdosing. Even their performance on stage was starting to suffer. They were losing their fans and falling rather rapidly. Even the “super couple” was having problems.
It was one of the worst shows they’d done. Nothing seemed to want to work right and the band wasn’t on the same page. They even got booed off the stage. Little did the band know, that was going to be their last major performance together.
The band hurried off the stage to their dressing room, Pickles was the last to enter and he slammed the door shut behind him.
“What tha fuck was that out dere?” Pickles looked from each band member, fury and hurt in his eyes.
From his position slumped on the couch, Tony looked up at the redhead. “Awww come on Red. It was one bad show…”
Pickles cut Tony off in mid sentence, fuming even more, now raising his voice. “One show Tony! It hasn’t been just one show! This has been goin on fer a while. None of ya can get up on stage sober anymore!”
The rest of the band sat quietly as Pickles plopped into the closest seat, placing his head in his hands.
Pickles tried to shake the memories from his head. He knew where his thought process was going, and he didn’t like it one bit. He took a long gulp from a random bottle by his feet, finishing the bottle in that one gulp. He dropped it back on the floor and made his way to the head of the bed. He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a joint. He had all intentions of getting so messed up that he wouldn’t be able to think anymore.
He lazily smoked his joint and occasionally took a few gulps from random bottles of booze around him. But no matter how hard he tried, the memories came back.
Weeks went by with the band not being able to get any gigs. They were all getting high on a constant basis, blowing through whatever money they had left. Tony had ended up in the hospital, having overdosed from shooting heroin into his balls again. It was the day Tony was to come home and Pickles sat back in the tiny shit hole apartment they shared worried and scared about what could happen next.
Tony walked into the apartment as Pickles stood to greet him. They met each other in the middle of the room and Tony grabbed Pickles into a tight embrace, kissing him passionately. When they broke for air, Tony looked Pickles in the eye, stroking his cheek. “I promise Red. I’m done with the drugs.”
Pickles rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow. He started to cry, mumbling to himself to stop remembering the past.
Months had gone by with the band getting sporadic, minor gigs but nothing consistent. Tony had gone back on his promise of quitting the drugs. He secretly started shooting up again. Pickles had found out and a fight started. Tony had stormed out of the apartment, leaving him behind. Pickles was afraid he’d never come back.
Pickles has always hated the feelings of vulnerability and loneliness. He would handle them the way he knew how, by drinking and doing any drug he can get his hands on. He was at it for a while. It felt like days, when it was only just a few hours. He realized that everything he held near and dear to him was falling away. His band was putting themselves in a hole and his relationship was going just as quick.
He picked himself up off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen. He started pulling out draws looking for the thinnest knife he can find. After getting what he was looking for he wandered drunkenly into the bathroom. He placed the knife on the counter and looked up at his reflection in the mirror.
Staring at his reflection, he grimaced. “Look at what yer life is like now. Yer band is shit an yer own boyfriend can’t keep his promises. Yer life is crumbling around ya.” Tears started rolling down his cheeks as he spoke to his reflection. “what’s tha poin in livin anymore?” With that he picked up the knife.
He slid down to the floor with the knife in his hand. He held it up to the light taking a good look at it. He held the knife to his left wrist and started to slide the smooth blade across his skin. He was so numb from the drugs and alcohol he didn’t even feel it at first. He switched the knife to his other hand and did the same to his right wrist and promptly dropped the knife. He watched as his blood trickled from his wrists and pooled on the floor. He started thinking about Tony and cried even harder.
His vision was starting to get fuzzy around the edges and he was getting cold. He was barely able to hold his head up anymore. As he felt himself start to slip from consciousness, he heard the door open and Tony walked into the bathroom. Pickles looked up at him briefly. “I’m sarhy. I love ya Tony.” Pickles slumped over, blacking out.
Pickles rolled onto his back and sat up, holding his head in his hands and sobbing loudly. Still with tears in his eyes he looked down at his wrists and pulled the sweatbands off, dropping them to the floor. He stared long and hard at the thin scares. It was his own stupidity. If he didn’t try to kill himself things would have been different…maybe.
Days later, Pickles woke up in the hospital. He didn’t know how he got there, but he had a vague idea. He remembered Tony walking into the bathroom as he passed out. He took a better look at his surroundings and found an envelope on the table next to him, with his name scribbled on it. He gingerly reached for it. He knew the handwriting was Tony’s and opened it.
Red,
I’m sorry it had to come to this. I see that I hurt you so badly that you felt you needed to end your life. I think it’s best for all of us if we all just walk away. I love you and always will. Please take care of yourself.
Tony
Pickles balled his hands into fists, anger replacing all of his sorrow. He was angry that he was stupid enough to try and end his life because of Tony. He was angry that he let himself get so attached, and he was angry that Tony walked out on him all those years ago.
He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a baggie of assorted pills. So far the pot and booze weren’t helping him forget, so he tried the next best thing and swallowed a few of the colorful pills and lay down. Once the pills kicked in he promptly fell into a deep sleep with no more memories.
Pickles’ bedroom door quietly opened and a large figure walked in. He quietly made his way over to the drummer. Standing beside the bed, he looked down at the redhead and gently ran his hand across the faint scar visible on Pickles’ wrist. He quickly retracted his hand and left quietly.
A/N II: Yes that is where I leave it people. As I said I might continue. Hope you enjoyed!