Toki-locks and the Five Beds

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Snakes, Medieval torture devices. Mention of child abuse.
Summary: Toki goes in search of a place to spend the night. A slightly new twist on a slightly old tale.
Notes: The fifth of the donation fics for Pyro. This one is for sweetngenki, who wanted some Toki.

This story has two illustrations: One by Toki's Bunny and one by Animama

It was dark, and it was cold, and it was scary. Toki hated the clear winter nights. Those were the nights his parents had always seemed at their most irrational; the crystal nights when the moon hung low in the sky like an eerie silver disc. The nights when it would storm and blow were the best. It was as if his mother and father viewed the storms and blizzards as God’s shielding wrath that kept them safe in the wilds from heathen eyes. But the nights when it was clear… Toki learned to hate those nights. And even now, as an adult, nothing kept him up like a crystal clear winter sky. Outside the snow was cold and silver-blue, an unbroken layer of sparkling brightness, illuminated by the great icy globe that hung in the sky. It was the sort of night that kept children up to gaze out at the wonder, and think of ice fairies and Santa Claus. But what came to Toki’s mind when he gazed outside was nothing so charming.

He rubbed his wrists in memory of frozen shackles, his knees and back recalling hours upon hours of being locked in the shed to freeze and starve. Despite being young, and what some would kindly call ‘hyperactive’, Toki’s joints were worn and damaged in the same manner as those of children who had been raised as slaves in Roman households. Even now he felt the faint twinges of arthritis in his bones, but not enough for him to pay much attention. For now his only concern was the ice-silent night, and finding a comforting place to spend it.

Nathan was his first choice.

He slunk down to the far end of the great keep where Nathan had his room, reaching the huge graven door and squeezing the iron latch that held it closed. There was a metallic ‘thunk’, and Toki pushed the door open to poke his head in, peering at the large form in the middle of the sea of black that was the bed. He blinked, trying to determine if Nathan had company, but he seemed to be alone. Toki slipped into the room and closed the door after himself, then prowled over to the bed. He climbed onto it, moving on all fours over to the huge form quietly snoring in the middle of it. The snoring hitched, then stopped. Nathan raised his head to look at the invader, then put his head down once more.

“You’re taking your life into your hands, y’know,” said Nathan.

“I risk it,” said Toki, getting under the covers and scrunching backwards close to Nathan, hearing the good-natured irritation in his friend’s sigh. Nathan raised an arm to let Toki get positioned, then lowered it to rest over him. Toki blinked bright blue eyes at the darkness as Nathan slipped back into the land of dreams. Soon he was snoring quietly again, leaving Toki to wonder about his comment.

“Why I takings my life in my hands?” Toki whispered to the night.

The night did not answer. Safe and content, Toki closed his eyes, his nightmares held safely at bay by a big warm body. But although he was very sleepy, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Nathan had said. Why was he taking his life into his hands?

Then….. he smelled it. The unmistakable tree-felling, mountain-crumbling, roadie-killing stench of Nathan Explosion after two full helpings of chilli, garlic bread and beer. There was no sound to warn the unwary; there was only the eye-watering reek that caused throats to close, lungs to burn, sheets to crumble into brittle ash, and the medieval weaponry on the wall to dissolve. Toki felt his nostril hairs begin to whither and smoulder.

“Oh… oh, Nat’an! Oh dat… dat can’t be healthy! Not’ing alives shoulds be able to makes smell likes dat! AUGH! Geneva convention forbids da use of chemicals warfare, you know!”

Nathan grinned evilly. “Put your nose under the covers, you won’t be able to smell it.”

“Oh no, I nots fallings for dats again! I gettings out of here. I asking Charlies make you doctors appointment.” Toki pushed the blankets back, and was heartily sorry the moment he did so, having released the full wrath of the unholy odour. “Oh… gawds… Nat’an! Dat’s horrid!”

“I had cabbage rolls with my chilli.”

“You sick! I’s outs of here befores my hair curl.”

“Night Toki.”

Toki fled the chamber of unholy farts, slamming the door shut so they didn’t get a chance to chase him, and pondered his next move as he sucked down clear clean air. Murderface’s room was right out. If Nathan smelled that bad then Murderface would be like the ass-end of Odin’s horse. So where to next?

Pickles was his second choice.

Normally Pickles slept in his underwear on top of the covers. He had a strange metabolism. Temperatures that had other folks shivering did not bother him in the least. Tonight however, when Toki crept into the room, Pickles was rolled into a tight ball under the covers, shivering. Toki climbed onto the bed and sorted through the covers, eventually finding a nose, then a bleary, red-rimmed eye.

“You don’t look so good, Pickle.”

“I feel like deep fried shit.”

Toki had no idea what deep fried shit felt like, but he was hardly inclined to find out. “Oh… poor Pickle. You gots da flu!”

“I got something a’right,” said Pickles, shivering.

Toki patted the long red dreads. “I gets you somet’ing makes you feel better.”

“No offence Toki but the last thing I want right now is pickled herring.”

“Oh pickled herring nots for flu. Is for hangover. I gets you somet’ing for flu.”

“So long as there’s no fish in it.”

Toki left Pickles to shiver and went to the kitchen. He scrounged around, finding sherry, cinnamon, brandy, sugar, and numerous other things needed for a large steaming cup of wassail, dumping everything into a pot and warming it up. His grandmother would have had fits about his not mixing in the eggs properly, or warming the sherry and brandy separately, but this was just to make Pickles feel better, not holiday dinner. Toki returned to Pickles’ room with a drinking bowl full of hot fragrant wassail. He passed Pickles the bowl, then seated himself on the bed, watching as he drank it.

“You feel better?”

“I feel warmer, that’s for sure,” said Pickles. “I think I can finally sleep.” He yawned mightily. “Why are you up and prowling around?”

“Too quiet outside.”

“Oh, yeah.” Pickles looked outside at the crystal clear and enchantingly lovely winter evening. “Usually people are scared of storms, Toki. Not peaceful nights.”

“Ja well most peoples nots grow up where I dids.”

“Wanna sleep here?”

“I dids until I finds out you gots da flu.”

“Awww… Toki, that’s not nice! Gimme a kiss.”

Toki raised an eyebrow, giving Pickles an amused look. “I rathers not. Good nights Pickle.”

“Night, Toki.”

Toki left Pickles to sleep, once more standing in the hallway, once more pondering where to go. Murderface? Mmmmmm…. Maybe not. Unless he had no choice. Skwisgaar? No. No way. Skwisgaar wouldn’t let him sleep beside him. Besides he probably had someone with him. Some fat ugly old thing that looked like an albino hairless Shar-Pei. Yech.

Toki looked down the hall, holding his deddy-bear tightly against his chest in his folded arms, gazing at where he knew Skwisgaar’s door would be. If he tried he could even catch the vague scent of vanilla and ginseng from the candles Skwisgaar kept lit in his bedroom. The castle could get clammy at times, and Skwisgaar liked to keep the scent of dampness at bay. Toki could almost picture Skwisgaar in bed, his lean naked form draped in imitation polar bear fur, sleeping flat on the mattress with no pillows. He was the only guy Toki knew who didn’t like pillows. But he was so beautiful asleep….

Sighing quietly, Toki made his way to Charles’ room. He’d never slept there before, but he knew he was welcome. Charles was well aware of every tick and quirk his guys had, and he knew how much the silent nights could get to Toki. He’d told Toki after a particularly bad time when the rest of the band was not home and Toki had prowled the halls three nights straight that he was perfectly welcome to come settle with him. This would be the first time Toki had ever taken Charles up on his offer. As he moved down the long and silent corridor, Toki offered prayers to Huginn and Muninn that he did not learn anything about Charles he seriously did not want to know. Because he really wasn’t ready to find out that their quiet dapper little lawyer slept in a pink silk teddy.

Toki entered Charles’ apartment and crept over to his bedroom door, finding it ajar. He peeked inside. The only person in the bed appeared to be Charles, and Toki entered the room and crept over to him. He slipped under the covers and huddled against Charles, and was relieved when the only reaction he got was a gentle hand briefly stroking his hair. This was a good place. It smelled vaguely of sandalwood, not dethfarts, and Charles wasn’t hacking and coughing and shivering with the flu. Finally he could get some rest. Toki snuggled down into the soft clean sheets and closed his eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, Toki’s eyes snapped open. He lay perfectly still, eyes darting back and forth, asking himself if Charles was coming onto him. He could feel something firm slipping up his thigh. This wasn’t a kitty. Kitties stomped. And they usually marched up and breathed tuna into your face before turning around and presenting you with their butt. This was a smooth slow motion, travelling up his thigh, coming to rest on his hip. Was Charles groping his leg? That really did not seem like his style but… well he had never gone and climbed into bed with him before, either. No he had to be dreaming or some…. thing….

The thing moved up from his hip and down around to his stomach. Ohh…. this was not cool. Groping a guy who came to you for comfort was not cool. Then the movement began heading downwards and Toki had enough.

“HEY!” He sat bolt upright and reached for the bedside lamp, pulling the chain to turn it on. “Now you just waits picking-cotton minutes, you can’ts just…” He fell silent, blue eyes growing huge as he stared at the bed.

Charles slowly sat up, blinking sleepily, clad in grey pyjamas and clearly confused. “Toki what is the matter? Are you dreaming?”

Toki slowly pointed to the long sinuous form on the bed. “What’s da fuck is dat?”

Charles looked puzzled. “Hm?” He glanced down. “Oh. That’s Kaa. She’s an Indian rock python. A friend of mine is involved in their conservation. Unfortunately Kaa is not suitable for breeding due to some quirks in her genes so he gave her to me. I’m really rather fond of her.”

Toki stared at Charles in utter horror. “You is cannots be bothered to tells me you is have fifteen foot snake for pet before you is invites me in here to spends da night?!”

Oblivious to the chaos she had caused, Kaa slipped under the covers to be warm.

“Well, Toki, she’s absolutely harmless.”

“I thoughts you was groping my leg!”

“Believe me Toki, I was not groping your leg, nor would I do so.”

“Why not? What’s wrong wit’ my leg?”

“Nothing. You have very nice legs. I would just… prefer another leg to grope.”

Toki looked down at the tail-tip peeking out from beneath the covers, horrified. “Why woulds you have somet’ing likes dat for a pet?!”

“I like snakes. And Kaa is a very good snake. She’s very quiet and she likes my poetry.”

Toki stared at Charles for a long moment. Charles blinked back at him. “You know,” said Toki, “When I is first comes here, I was really hopings I nots learn anyt’ing abouts you I didn’ts wants to know. An’ I did.” Toki slipped out of the bed “I is hoping you and you girlfriend is very happy togethers. I go sleeps wit’ Murderface.”

“Well I’m sorry you feel that way. Good night, Toki.”

“Night strange lawyers-man.”

Toki left Charles to cuddle with his serpent and made his way down the long hall to the chamber where Murderface slept. He cracked the door and peeked in, flinching.

It really wasn’t the smell that put Toki off, although it was certainly bad enough to be a deterrent. It was more of the authentic torture devices that Murderface chose to collect and fill his room with. Most were from the Dark Ages, and the time of the Spanish Inquisition, though a few were from the time of the Civil War. They were real, not replicas, and that meant in all likelihood they were used. At some point in history, some poor soul who had more than likely done nothing at all wrong had been subjected to horrible agony in the name of God, and that was a thought that disturbed Toki to a degree he could not even explain.

He slowly prowled into the room, cautiously approaching the awful devices. There was a rack, its ancient timbers blackened, stained with things Toki did not want to consider. There were thumbscrews and awful chairs with iron spikes, horrible cages meant to go over heads, cauldrons and chains and…. shackles.

Toki began rubbing his wrists, shivering. It was easy for Murderface to collect this stuff. He knew what it was for, of course. But Murderface didn’t understand what it did. He’d never been chained to a wall and beaten. He’s never been flogged with a cat o’ nine tails. He’d never been put in stocks and left in the winter night to freeze in agony.

Toki’s father had loved reading about the Inquisition, but felt it had not gone far enough. Toki could only imagine what sort of cruelty his father would inflict. He had always told Toki he had been easy on him because he was his son and therefore Christian. The good reverend’s hand must itch with desire to deliver God’s healing wrath to the child now that he was a grown man playing death metal and refusing to acknowledge any god, other than the pagan Norse ones of yesteryear, and even they only were given a cursory nod. Toki’s father had tried to beat the Devil out of his child. He had not meant to beat God out of him as well.

The room was dark and smelled strangely of ash and fire. That was likely not an accident; Murderface would make an effort to capture the full effect of a dungeon, though Toki couldn’t imagine why. He liked strange creepy stuff too, he found it fascinating. But he couldn’t sleep surrounded by it, and he certainly didn’t want to smell the odours associated with it.

He slowly explored the room, frightened but also morbidly curious, the soft light of torches licking across his shoulders as he moved. His bare feet made no sound on the stone floor as he moved among the disgusting artefacts, paying little heed to the quiet rumbling snore that came from the large bed. He was far more interested in the sick knot of cold horror in his gut, and the rising fear brought about by memories that would never be buried deep enough.

Toki was just about to leave and ponder whether he wanted to sleep with Nathan and his death-farts or Charles and his snoopy snake when he spied something he hadn’t noticed before, something in the iron maiden. Something… white….

Oh he so did not want to look.

So why did his feet keep taking him forward?

Toki reached the iron maiden, cautiously leaning closer, not wanting to touch it, but morbidly fascinated, trying to determine what he had seen. The room was so dark, and it was so hard to see. Maybe if he leaned forward…

Eyes. There were eyes looking back at him.

Toki leapt back from the iron maiden, crashing into a great iron cage and knocking it over. His clothes snagged on the edges, and it seemed as if ghastly bony claws were reaching from the maiden to catch him and drag him inside to await some horrible slow death. He pulled free and crashed into an iron torch holder, spilling it onto the floor, causing something to go up in a brief but violently spectacular ‘woof!’ of flame.

Toki’s heart was beating so hard he was certain it was bruising itself on his breastbone. He wasn’t even aware that he was screaming as he tore around the room in a desperate attempt to flee this place, darting wildly like a feral animal in a trap, ricocheting off walls and tables, cutting and bruising himself. Then suddenly he was caught in powerful arms and held tightly, one muscular limb about his throat, the other in his hair, holding him fast. He fought and wriggled and bit, but he was going nowhere save towards that most horrible of horrible things, that ghastly iron maiden and the round, staring eyes. Toki fought and pulled with all his might, but was going no where.

The hand in his hair released him to reach out and pull the iron maiden open, and Toki screamed as if he expected this to be the last sound he ever made. He braced himself, expecting to be shoved in, but wasn’t. The door opened, and Toki stared at the bloody body before him in terror, his knees shaking. The hand returned to his hair, stroking it. The person holding him said nothing for a long moment, letting Toki gather himself and calm down. Then a familiar voice with an equally familiar speech impediment spoke into his ear.

“It’sh jusht a dummy. Shee? Jusht rubber an’ wax. It can’t hurt you.”

Toki slowly recovered from his fright, his breath gasping and hiccupping. “Why you has dis horrible stuff? How can you sleep?”

“There’s nothing in here that can hurt you. It’sh jusht schtuff.”

“Is horribles stuff! How can you sleep? Aren’ts you afraid somet’ing is comes out an’ gets you?”

Murderface gave Toki a few more pets, then let him go. “It’sh jusht schtuff, Toki. That’sh all. No matter where it’sh been or what it wash used for. It’sh schtill just schtuff.”

“Well I hopes you enjoys it. I go finds place less morbids to sleep.”

“Why don’t you go schleep with Nathan?”

“I can’ts. He hads chilli an’ cabbage rolls for dinner.”

“Well that’sh brutal. How about Pickles?”

“Pickle gots da flu.”

“What about the robot?”

“He gots bigs perverted snakes is climb all over me in my sleep.”

Murderface raised an eyebrow. “You know, my life wash jusht sho much better before you shaid that.”

“Your life? Whats about mine? You didn’ts wake up wit’ dat t’ing wraps all around you, lyings across you waist.”

Murderface stared, blinking. “Let me get thish schtraight. The robot’sh got a schnake long enough to drape over your waist?”

“Ja! He names it an’ everyt’ings! He reads poetry to it!”

“That’s dishgushting!”

“I know! He coulds have warn me abouts it before asking me to spends da nights, instead of just letting me gets into bed and has it sneaks up on me likes dat.”

“Yeah you really should warn a guy about a thing like that.” Murderface seemed to consider something. “Scho what did it look like?”

“Was big an’ yellow wit’ brown splotches.”

Murderface shuddered. “Oh that can’t be good.”

“You think it maybes poisonous?”

“Trust me, Toki. Brown shplotchesh are never a good shign.”

“Dat’s brutal.” Toki sighed. “Well… I gots to get some sleeps.”

“You can always jusht go schleep with Shkwisgaar, you know.”

Toki looked down at the floor, sighing. “No, he don’t wants to be sleepings wit’ me.”

“Well how do you know?”

“Skwisgaar don’ts like me,” said Toki quietly.

“Toki, ash the band dick it would be real eashy for me to shay something about how you’re right, he doeshn’t like you. But like I shaid it would be way too eashy. The truth is… he doesh like you. He’sh jusht… kinda cold. Or you could jusht shtay here with me an’ the wax dummy. We don’t mind.”

“No t’anks. Maybe I just go back to my room an’ stops botherings everyone. Good night.”

Toki left Murderface’s room and stood in the hall, exhausted and depressed and frightened, especially after his tour of Murderface’s dungeon. He just wanted a safe place to sleep with someone who cared about him. Oh well. One out of two wasn’t bad. May as well try Skwisgaar.

Toki reached Skwisgaar’s door and opened it a crack, poking his nose in, breathing in the scent of vanilla and ginseng, watching the muted glow of the scented candles. Skwisgaar seemed to be alone in his enormous white bed, his lean, graceful frame draped in imitation polar bear. He was on his side, laid on the white sheet without any pillows. Toki wondered how he could sleep like that. It didn’t look comfortable.

He crept into the room, quietly closing the door, and paused, listening. The breathing was slow and even, but that didn’t mean he was asleep. For some reason… Toki had the funny feeling that Skwisgaar was wide awake and quite aware of his sanctuary being invaded. Slowly, quietly, Toki got down on all fours, his hands sinking into the soft deep faux fur rugs, and crept over to the bed, just able to peek over the edge of the mattress at the gorgeous blonde laid out before him.

“Skwisgaar? You awake?”

Not a flicker, not a hitch in the breathing. Maybe he wasn’t awake. It was hard to tell.

“Do you minds if I sleeps here tonights?”

Still no movement, no indication one way or the other. He had to be asleep. Cautiously, Toki climbed onto the bed and lay down on the mattress, facing Skwisgaar. He did not touch the blankets, not wanting to risk waking him and getting kicked out. Not when he was so tired and he had finally found a place that was just right. Not too warm or cold or smelly, not too dark or bright, and the bed was just… perfect, even without pillows. Toki settled into it, feeling the mattress sink in all the right places beneath him. He closed his eyes, and finally felt sleep begin to creep up on him. He was safe and comfortable, and even if Skwisgaar didn’t like him, it was still better to be here than alone in his room. Toki dared to lean forward just enough to plant a shy little kiss on the full lips, then sighed contentedly as he snuggled into the soft bed once more

“Good nights, Skwisgaar,” he whispered, and closed his eyes.

Soon Toki was deeply asleep, and did not notice as an arm rose up to cast part of the fur blanket over him. Arms slipped around him, and he was drawn close against a lean body. Toki slept on, unaware of Skwisgaar holding him close, comforting him, and of a pair of lips briefly pressing against his own. Closing his eyes, Skwisgaar chuckled softly.

“Good nights, little Tokis.”