To Turn Back the Klok 2- Past and Present
Hey guys. Due to all of the awesome this season my writer's block has gotten a kick in the ass. How about last night's episode? CRAZY. Without giving away too many spoilers, I just want to say that the developing plot line has caused me to re-evaluate my own stories and head canon. So click the tag here to see what I mean.
Anyone who has read my main story, Apocalypse Dawning, knows that I had to take a lot of liberties with Magnus. I had a background story all planned out for him and created a personality for lack of having any real reference. Then I projected where my stories would go based on what I had come up with on my own. I planned to try to weave my storyline into canon as much as possible. Dethcamp shot that plan all to hell. XD
I knew that Magnus very likely wouldn't be friendly when we learned more about him and had resigned myself to that but who was expecting him to still be alive?! I mean, come on! Now not only is Magnus Hammersmith (wrong last name too) a dodgy creep who was an asshole and possibly a would be traitor, he's alive.
So I was left with two options. I could go back into my timeline and pull things apart, rearrange and try to explain why my Magnus became an asshole and was kicked out of the band or... I could just accept my lot and continue with my story. (I mean, it's only fanfiction, right? Lol.)
Anyway, long story short, I'm going to just plunge ahead with my original story line. My Magnus will remain a friendly prankster and Dethklok will mourn his death when it happens. His name is going to remain Hammerstorm and not a single fuck will be given whenever my story doesn't align with canon. XD
This is a one shot following Bookklok and isn't exactly a sequel to my last one shot but it would follow it and sort of expands on my head canon. It takes place in the same AU as my main story, Apocalypse Dawning, and contains some spoilers to that story. (I am still working on Apocalypse Dawning but it's being a pisser to write.) This is my take on the strained relationship between Skwisgaar and Toki.
Title: To Turn back the Klok 2- Past and Present
Author: Nawazarrio
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angsty. Implied gay relationship for N/P if you squint.
Skwisgaar hadn't expected it to hurt so much, though he should have known better. Toki's book, his accusations, were a slap in the face, a show of childish temper. The sting was a merciless reminder that in many ways the rhythm guitarist was still so immature.
For a long time Skwisgaar had convinced himself that he didn't care what Toki or anyone else thought of him. He had done such a thorough job of blocking the other guitarist out for the past eight or so years that he should have been wary when his indifference had begun to fade. The boy had a way of working under your skin if you didn't stop him. It had been inviting trouble to let his guard down and now he'd paid for it.
Toki had it all wrong, but how was he supposed to know the difference? He'd been honest in his book, explaining what he'd seen and how he'd felt. He'd told of Skwisgaar's insults, and the indifference of the rest of the band. He'd explained that he was always viewed as a child, an inconvenience. He thought that the others were holding out on him, deliberately excluding him. He'd described events exactly as he'd interpreted them but what he didn't realize was how much of the story he was missing.
In the very beginning, before Dethklok even had a name, there had been six virtual strangers with a common passion. Death metal music. Nathan Explosion had been a young and enthusiastic kid, much like Toki was now. He was a natural leader but inexperienced and sometimes too eager. Pickles had been a recovering junky who was still hiding from his recent past with Snakes N' Barrels. He'd been Nathan's compass in the business, he'd navigated it once before with great success until he'd cracked and fallen back on the drugs. Murderface had been a fellow lost soul that had known Pickles in rehab. The two had forged a sort of alliance in in 'the joint' and had promised to give each other hand ups in the future. Charles Offdensen had been the glue that had held all of the pieces together, younger then and more hungry for victory. Skwisgaar had needed all of the help he could get at that point. He'd been a fallen Swedish God but all of the talent in the world hadn't been able to help him find a successful band. He'd needed personalities that could compete with his own and keep him in his place. Magnus had been there as well. He had been the eldest member of their band, a voice of reason, experience. He'd never been famous before like Skwisgaar or Pickles but he'd been in the business for years. He had no ambitions to be a leader or the star of the band. He'd been safe and neutral, all of the guys had liked him.
Magnus had been Skwisgaar's closest and dearest friend. The only member of the actual band who could speak to and understand him. At first the older guitarist had been his lifeline. Later, as Skwisgaar's English had improved, he hadn't relied so heavily on Magnus to translate for him but the relationship had already been forged. Magnus had been the best friend that Skwisgaar Skwigelf had ever had before or since.
Their fame had come quickly. They were like the perfect machine. There was no other that could do the same job as well or as thoroughly. The fans had loved them, followed them like a religious cult. Dethklok had quickly become the new face of rage and death. Their reputation of being black and brutal had proceeded them world wide. The fans didn't know that their brutality had been greatly exaggerated back then.
While their lyrics screamed of violent death, demons, hate, and carnage, the general public had no idea what secrets Dethklok hid from them. They didn't know that Nathan was a gentle giant, a poet at heart that liked kittens and Mickey Mouse, and sometimes missed his mother and father and the town where he'd grown up. They didn't see Pickles struggling to get his life back together and trying to figure out who he could be without Snakes N' Barrels. No one would have ever guessed that Murderface was actually a history nerd, not even old enough to legally drink, that genuinely loved reading about and reenacting battles, or that he secretly yearned to be a hero one day like the fallen soldiers who had died for noble causes. They could never know how Skwisgaar lived through his guitar, how he'd allowed his talent to become all consuming so that he didn't have to dwell on his deep rooted feelings of inadequacy, fear of rejection, and mommy issues. The fans didn't realize that Magnus had struggled with a heroine addiction of his own while raising a son by himself and fought his ghosts daily.
The guys had all been human. They'd all had flaws but that had been okay. At that time, back in the beginning, they had all accepted one another at face value. They had genuinely enjoyed one another and had become a sort of family. Things had been perfect back then. Each of them had everything that they wanted and needed nothing.
When Toki had come along several years later, starving and feral, Dethklok hadn't paid much attention to him but he had managed to somehow slip under Magnus' skin. He couldn't have had a better teacher. Magnus Hammerstorm, despite his intimidating presence, had been patient and understanding. He'd taken the neglected, half-dead teen under his wing when no one else would. He'd been the only one to see the shine under all of the tarnish and he'd worked hard to get the others to see it as well. More importantly, he'd worked harder still to get Toki to see it.
Skwisgaar had been jealous at first, pinched. He'd felt something like an older son who was losing the attention of his father to a younger sibling. Skwisgaar had steeled himself, pushed Toki away even, only to be shamed into changing his ways. Magnus had vouched for the kid, said that he was worth something, and so Skwisgaar had relented. He'd stepped back and not interfered while Magnus taught Toki how to better play guitar and hone his people skills. Over time, the lead guitarist himself had softened. He'd even gotten to the point where he'd drop small compliments when the boy was doing exceptionally well. Magnus had spoon fed the kid ambitions and dreams of taking over his place when he was 'too old' to be a star, and like a fool Skwisgaar had played along. How could he have known that the time would come when Magnus would be gone and his world would be in chaos?
Dethklok had reached the open door to insurmountable fame, they had been just short of the pinnacle when suddenly the whole thing threatened to crash and burn. The unrelenting pressure of the climb had driven cracks deep into their core.
There had been a rift between Nathan and Pickles about the unmentionable. Skwisgaar and Magnus had spoken of it only a handful of times, and had agreed that there was nothing to be done without risking greater harm to Dethklok. Murderface had chosen to stay ignorant but despite what Skwisgaar preferred to think, the bassist wasn't that stupid. Murderface had bit his tongue and stayed out of the midst of the fighting as well. Charles had been scrambling to keep all of the pieces together.
Ruin had seemed inevitable yet, despite it all, the lead guitarist had truly believed that so long as he, Magnus, and Murderface kept together that the frontman and the drummer would come to even ground. The manager had said it himself, one cannot serve two masters. Nathan and Pickles had had to choose where their loyalties laid, either with one another or with Dethklok. Back then, when it had been okay to embrace some light, Skwisgaar had foolishly believed that everything would work out and be okay. He'd been wrong.
It happened so fast and it still hurt to think about it all these years later. The discontent between the frontman and the drummer had reached it's crescendo and just then, when everything had swayed in the balance, Magnus had suddenly been gone.
None of them had known how to cope. It was the first real loss for most of the guys. Even Nathan and Pickles, who had been out for blood moments before, had stopped their fighting. They all had shut down in the wake of the tragedy and any hope there had been of Dethklok walking the fine line had shattered with him. The old klok spiraled out of control and crashed. The dark days took over. It would have ended then if not for Charles Offdensen.
The manager gave them space, let them mourn their losses. A founding pillar of Dethklok had been lost as well as the individual friendships they'd each had with Magnus. Nathan and Pickles suffered two devastations. All had seemed hopeless. But when the smoke had settled, Offdensen had been there with Toki, the piece meant to fill at least one of the gaping holes.
A decision was made. No one wanted to give up Dethklok; indeed, at this point the fame was all any of them had left. There had come a new set of rules. They weren't allowed to be friends any more. They weren't a family. They weren't allowed to care. Magnus was gone. Hearts were broken. The old Klok was dead.
Toki stepped in to join the family that he had so loved, the family that had learned to love him in response. Only to find that he had gained entrance just in time to see that their family was broken beyond repair. Instead of welcoming him, the remaining four of Dethklok merely tolerated him. It wasn't fair but the others had learned their lesson. It hurt too much to lose something or someone that you loved, so they had agreed to love nothing ever again.
It hadn't been Toki's fault. There was nothing that he had done to earn their indifference or disdain. It had been unfair for them to treat him so poorly, Skwisgaar had been especially cruel, but they hadn't sought him out intentionally. It wasn't personal. Skwisgaar hadn't been so hollow, so hurtful because he didn't like Toki. He'd been that way because he'd missed his friend. Skwisgaar hadn't been interested in being buddies. All he could think about at the time was what he'd lost, that there must have been something more he could have done. He couldn't even look at Toki because months earlier Magnus had told the kid that someday he would take the rhythm guitarist's place and Skwisgaar had agreed. He'd been sure then that it was his fault Magnus had died.
'You were still here and I'd already replaced you. And Toki, poor Toki... He paid the price for my foolishness.'
***
The white of the room did little to comfort him. Despite the same basic color scheme as his own chambers, this place had the sharp smell of disinfectant and the sterile, barren feel of despair. The hospital ward was cold and unforgiving, just the same as Skwisgaar Skwigelf.
He startled when someone sat down beside him. The fact that he'd missed Nathan's hulking form as it crossed the room was evidence enough that the guitarist was at his wit's end. When the frontman offered him a cup of coffee and he didn't immediately turn up his nose, there was no going back. Even Nathan could tell that he was still shaken.
The vocalist was good about it though. He didn't demean the guitarist for his sensitivity or demand any sort of change. Nathan merely sat there for a time, both of them taking in their own silence. Somewhere in the distance, Pickles and Murderface were kicking the shit out of a vending machine because it wouldn't dispense their snack of choice. Charles was close behind, fighting off security and threatening to send the drummer and bassist back to the Dethkopter if they didn't calm down.
He and Nathan both watched as the other two hung their heads and accepted what junk food they had managed to get and sat glumly to eat. When the commotion died down Nathan finally decided to talk. "You okay?"
Skwisgaar blinked. It seemed a silly question. He wasn't the one in the hospital bed down the hall. "Ja."
Nathan nodded and made what sounded like an approving grunt. After a few more moments he went on. "Charles says he's okay."
Skwisgaar nodded. He knew it was true but it didn't help the knot in his stomach. The stress from earlier today had been almost too much. By the time the medical team had made it to the stage Skwisgaar had felt faint himself. He knew that he'd have nightmares tonight despite the fact that he kept telling himself that Toki would be alright.
Toki would be alright. It wasn't like it had been with Magnus. Toki would be alright. He'd done all that he could this time. Toki would be alright. Magnus had been gone for years but Toki was young and he would stay. Toki would be alright.
It was almost as if Nathan could read the guitarist's thoughts. He swallowed his coffee and cleared his throat. "Doctor says it was just a panic attack." He gave that a moment to sink in and Skwisgaar wasn't sure if it was meant to humiliate or relieve him. Skwisgaar had jumped to the wrong conclusion but he'd had the best of intentions at heart. "You didn't know that though." Nathan's voice was the anchor that held him to reality. "We froze. You didn't."
Skwisgaar curled his lip. He'd found out later that he could have done more damage. His action hadn't really helped anyone.
"I guess I mean-" Nathan stopped a moment to think. Years ago it had bothered Skwisgaar to no end that Nathan spoke so slowly but now he expected it, especially if the frontman was trying to be serious or thoughtful. "You tried to save him. So- good job- on that."
Skwisgaar blinked. He wasn't sure he'd heard that correctly at first. Had Nathan just congratulated him? It was so rare for the two of them to talk about much of anything other than music, booze, or whores that he couldn't be sure at first. They were members of the best band in the world, they were on top of their game. Perfection was taken for granted, no longer recognized as an accomplishment. It was expected. Yet now, in this moment where Skwisgaar hadn't only made a mistake but could have possibly hurt or killed one of their band members, Nathan was giving him something as rare and precious as praise?
He didn't know what to say so it surprised him when he heard his own tight voice. "T'anks Nat'ans."
Then they fell into silence again as if the moment had never happened. And so it would go on as it had been for years. Words of kindness were few and far between when you weren't allowed to care.
Anyone who has read my main story, Apocalypse Dawning, knows that I had to take a lot of liberties with Magnus. I had a background story all planned out for him and created a personality for lack of having any real reference. Then I projected where my stories would go based on what I had come up with on my own. I planned to try to weave my storyline into canon as much as possible. Dethcamp shot that plan all to hell. XD
I knew that Magnus very likely wouldn't be friendly when we learned more about him and had resigned myself to that but who was expecting him to still be alive?! I mean, come on! Now not only is Magnus Hammersmith (wrong last name too) a dodgy creep who was an asshole and possibly a would be traitor, he's alive.
So I was left with two options. I could go back into my timeline and pull things apart, rearrange and try to explain why my Magnus became an asshole and was kicked out of the band or... I could just accept my lot and continue with my story. (I mean, it's only fanfiction, right? Lol.)
Anyway, long story short, I'm going to just plunge ahead with my original story line. My Magnus will remain a friendly prankster and Dethklok will mourn his death when it happens. His name is going to remain Hammerstorm and not a single fuck will be given whenever my story doesn't align with canon. XD
This is a one shot following Bookklok and isn't exactly a sequel to my last one shot but it would follow it and sort of expands on my head canon. It takes place in the same AU as my main story, Apocalypse Dawning, and contains some spoilers to that story. (I am still working on Apocalypse Dawning but it's being a pisser to write.) This is my take on the strained relationship between Skwisgaar and Toki.
Title: To Turn back the Klok 2- Past and Present
Author: Nawazarrio
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angsty. Implied gay relationship for N/P if you squint.
Skwisgaar hadn't expected it to hurt so much, though he should have known better. Toki's book, his accusations, were a slap in the face, a show of childish temper. The sting was a merciless reminder that in many ways the rhythm guitarist was still so immature.
For a long time Skwisgaar had convinced himself that he didn't care what Toki or anyone else thought of him. He had done such a thorough job of blocking the other guitarist out for the past eight or so years that he should have been wary when his indifference had begun to fade. The boy had a way of working under your skin if you didn't stop him. It had been inviting trouble to let his guard down and now he'd paid for it.
Toki had it all wrong, but how was he supposed to know the difference? He'd been honest in his book, explaining what he'd seen and how he'd felt. He'd told of Skwisgaar's insults, and the indifference of the rest of the band. He'd explained that he was always viewed as a child, an inconvenience. He thought that the others were holding out on him, deliberately excluding him. He'd described events exactly as he'd interpreted them but what he didn't realize was how much of the story he was missing.
In the very beginning, before Dethklok even had a name, there had been six virtual strangers with a common passion. Death metal music. Nathan Explosion had been a young and enthusiastic kid, much like Toki was now. He was a natural leader but inexperienced and sometimes too eager. Pickles had been a recovering junky who was still hiding from his recent past with Snakes N' Barrels. He'd been Nathan's compass in the business, he'd navigated it once before with great success until he'd cracked and fallen back on the drugs. Murderface had been a fellow lost soul that had known Pickles in rehab. The two had forged a sort of alliance in in 'the joint' and had promised to give each other hand ups in the future. Charles Offdensen had been the glue that had held all of the pieces together, younger then and more hungry for victory. Skwisgaar had needed all of the help he could get at that point. He'd been a fallen Swedish God but all of the talent in the world hadn't been able to help him find a successful band. He'd needed personalities that could compete with his own and keep him in his place. Magnus had been there as well. He had been the eldest member of their band, a voice of reason, experience. He'd never been famous before like Skwisgaar or Pickles but he'd been in the business for years. He had no ambitions to be a leader or the star of the band. He'd been safe and neutral, all of the guys had liked him.
Magnus had been Skwisgaar's closest and dearest friend. The only member of the actual band who could speak to and understand him. At first the older guitarist had been his lifeline. Later, as Skwisgaar's English had improved, he hadn't relied so heavily on Magnus to translate for him but the relationship had already been forged. Magnus had been the best friend that Skwisgaar Skwigelf had ever had before or since.
Their fame had come quickly. They were like the perfect machine. There was no other that could do the same job as well or as thoroughly. The fans had loved them, followed them like a religious cult. Dethklok had quickly become the new face of rage and death. Their reputation of being black and brutal had proceeded them world wide. The fans didn't know that their brutality had been greatly exaggerated back then.
While their lyrics screamed of violent death, demons, hate, and carnage, the general public had no idea what secrets Dethklok hid from them. They didn't know that Nathan was a gentle giant, a poet at heart that liked kittens and Mickey Mouse, and sometimes missed his mother and father and the town where he'd grown up. They didn't see Pickles struggling to get his life back together and trying to figure out who he could be without Snakes N' Barrels. No one would have ever guessed that Murderface was actually a history nerd, not even old enough to legally drink, that genuinely loved reading about and reenacting battles, or that he secretly yearned to be a hero one day like the fallen soldiers who had died for noble causes. They could never know how Skwisgaar lived through his guitar, how he'd allowed his talent to become all consuming so that he didn't have to dwell on his deep rooted feelings of inadequacy, fear of rejection, and mommy issues. The fans didn't realize that Magnus had struggled with a heroine addiction of his own while raising a son by himself and fought his ghosts daily.
The guys had all been human. They'd all had flaws but that had been okay. At that time, back in the beginning, they had all accepted one another at face value. They had genuinely enjoyed one another and had become a sort of family. Things had been perfect back then. Each of them had everything that they wanted and needed nothing.
When Toki had come along several years later, starving and feral, Dethklok hadn't paid much attention to him but he had managed to somehow slip under Magnus' skin. He couldn't have had a better teacher. Magnus Hammerstorm, despite his intimidating presence, had been patient and understanding. He'd taken the neglected, half-dead teen under his wing when no one else would. He'd been the only one to see the shine under all of the tarnish and he'd worked hard to get the others to see it as well. More importantly, he'd worked harder still to get Toki to see it.
Skwisgaar had been jealous at first, pinched. He'd felt something like an older son who was losing the attention of his father to a younger sibling. Skwisgaar had steeled himself, pushed Toki away even, only to be shamed into changing his ways. Magnus had vouched for the kid, said that he was worth something, and so Skwisgaar had relented. He'd stepped back and not interfered while Magnus taught Toki how to better play guitar and hone his people skills. Over time, the lead guitarist himself had softened. He'd even gotten to the point where he'd drop small compliments when the boy was doing exceptionally well. Magnus had spoon fed the kid ambitions and dreams of taking over his place when he was 'too old' to be a star, and like a fool Skwisgaar had played along. How could he have known that the time would come when Magnus would be gone and his world would be in chaos?
Dethklok had reached the open door to insurmountable fame, they had been just short of the pinnacle when suddenly the whole thing threatened to crash and burn. The unrelenting pressure of the climb had driven cracks deep into their core.
There had been a rift between Nathan and Pickles about the unmentionable. Skwisgaar and Magnus had spoken of it only a handful of times, and had agreed that there was nothing to be done without risking greater harm to Dethklok. Murderface had chosen to stay ignorant but despite what Skwisgaar preferred to think, the bassist wasn't that stupid. Murderface had bit his tongue and stayed out of the midst of the fighting as well. Charles had been scrambling to keep all of the pieces together.
Ruin had seemed inevitable yet, despite it all, the lead guitarist had truly believed that so long as he, Magnus, and Murderface kept together that the frontman and the drummer would come to even ground. The manager had said it himself, one cannot serve two masters. Nathan and Pickles had had to choose where their loyalties laid, either with one another or with Dethklok. Back then, when it had been okay to embrace some light, Skwisgaar had foolishly believed that everything would work out and be okay. He'd been wrong.
It happened so fast and it still hurt to think about it all these years later. The discontent between the frontman and the drummer had reached it's crescendo and just then, when everything had swayed in the balance, Magnus had suddenly been gone.
None of them had known how to cope. It was the first real loss for most of the guys. Even Nathan and Pickles, who had been out for blood moments before, had stopped their fighting. They all had shut down in the wake of the tragedy and any hope there had been of Dethklok walking the fine line had shattered with him. The old klok spiraled out of control and crashed. The dark days took over. It would have ended then if not for Charles Offdensen.
The manager gave them space, let them mourn their losses. A founding pillar of Dethklok had been lost as well as the individual friendships they'd each had with Magnus. Nathan and Pickles suffered two devastations. All had seemed hopeless. But when the smoke had settled, Offdensen had been there with Toki, the piece meant to fill at least one of the gaping holes.
A decision was made. No one wanted to give up Dethklok; indeed, at this point the fame was all any of them had left. There had come a new set of rules. They weren't allowed to be friends any more. They weren't a family. They weren't allowed to care. Magnus was gone. Hearts were broken. The old Klok was dead.
Toki stepped in to join the family that he had so loved, the family that had learned to love him in response. Only to find that he had gained entrance just in time to see that their family was broken beyond repair. Instead of welcoming him, the remaining four of Dethklok merely tolerated him. It wasn't fair but the others had learned their lesson. It hurt too much to lose something or someone that you loved, so they had agreed to love nothing ever again.
It hadn't been Toki's fault. There was nothing that he had done to earn their indifference or disdain. It had been unfair for them to treat him so poorly, Skwisgaar had been especially cruel, but they hadn't sought him out intentionally. It wasn't personal. Skwisgaar hadn't been so hollow, so hurtful because he didn't like Toki. He'd been that way because he'd missed his friend. Skwisgaar hadn't been interested in being buddies. All he could think about at the time was what he'd lost, that there must have been something more he could have done. He couldn't even look at Toki because months earlier Magnus had told the kid that someday he would take the rhythm guitarist's place and Skwisgaar had agreed. He'd been sure then that it was his fault Magnus had died.
'You were still here and I'd already replaced you. And Toki, poor Toki... He paid the price for my foolishness.'
***
The white of the room did little to comfort him. Despite the same basic color scheme as his own chambers, this place had the sharp smell of disinfectant and the sterile, barren feel of despair. The hospital ward was cold and unforgiving, just the same as Skwisgaar Skwigelf.
He startled when someone sat down beside him. The fact that he'd missed Nathan's hulking form as it crossed the room was evidence enough that the guitarist was at his wit's end. When the frontman offered him a cup of coffee and he didn't immediately turn up his nose, there was no going back. Even Nathan could tell that he was still shaken.
The vocalist was good about it though. He didn't demean the guitarist for his sensitivity or demand any sort of change. Nathan merely sat there for a time, both of them taking in their own silence. Somewhere in the distance, Pickles and Murderface were kicking the shit out of a vending machine because it wouldn't dispense their snack of choice. Charles was close behind, fighting off security and threatening to send the drummer and bassist back to the Dethkopter if they didn't calm down.
He and Nathan both watched as the other two hung their heads and accepted what junk food they had managed to get and sat glumly to eat. When the commotion died down Nathan finally decided to talk. "You okay?"
Skwisgaar blinked. It seemed a silly question. He wasn't the one in the hospital bed down the hall. "Ja."
Nathan nodded and made what sounded like an approving grunt. After a few more moments he went on. "Charles says he's okay."
Skwisgaar nodded. He knew it was true but it didn't help the knot in his stomach. The stress from earlier today had been almost too much. By the time the medical team had made it to the stage Skwisgaar had felt faint himself. He knew that he'd have nightmares tonight despite the fact that he kept telling himself that Toki would be alright.
Toki would be alright. It wasn't like it had been with Magnus. Toki would be alright. He'd done all that he could this time. Toki would be alright. Magnus had been gone for years but Toki was young and he would stay. Toki would be alright.
It was almost as if Nathan could read the guitarist's thoughts. He swallowed his coffee and cleared his throat. "Doctor says it was just a panic attack." He gave that a moment to sink in and Skwisgaar wasn't sure if it was meant to humiliate or relieve him. Skwisgaar had jumped to the wrong conclusion but he'd had the best of intentions at heart. "You didn't know that though." Nathan's voice was the anchor that held him to reality. "We froze. You didn't."
Skwisgaar curled his lip. He'd found out later that he could have done more damage. His action hadn't really helped anyone.
"I guess I mean-" Nathan stopped a moment to think. Years ago it had bothered Skwisgaar to no end that Nathan spoke so slowly but now he expected it, especially if the frontman was trying to be serious or thoughtful. "You tried to save him. So- good job- on that."
Skwisgaar blinked. He wasn't sure he'd heard that correctly at first. Had Nathan just congratulated him? It was so rare for the two of them to talk about much of anything other than music, booze, or whores that he couldn't be sure at first. They were members of the best band in the world, they were on top of their game. Perfection was taken for granted, no longer recognized as an accomplishment. It was expected. Yet now, in this moment where Skwisgaar hadn't only made a mistake but could have possibly hurt or killed one of their band members, Nathan was giving him something as rare and precious as praise?
He didn't know what to say so it surprised him when he heard his own tight voice. "T'anks Nat'ans."
Then they fell into silence again as if the moment had never happened. And so it would go on as it had been for years. Words of kindness were few and far between when you weren't allowed to care.