Nickles one shots [Nathan/Pickles][Metalocalypse/Dethklok]

Dethmeet

TW: mentions of suicide attempt, mentions of self harm

A young ginger was walking from the bus depot's ticket master window to sit in one of the chairs lining the walls, waiting for the next bus back to Wisconsin. He sat hunched and defeated, with his greasy hair in his face and his cheeks becoming a puffy red. Tears began to form in his eyes, then fall, which all snowballed into him crying into his hands.

The black-haired man next to him looked over with a curious glance, then down at his lap and sighed. "You too?" He asked.

The ginger looked up at him and sniffled. "What?"

"Did you get let down by someone too?" He said with a low voice. The ginger nodded and squinted in confusion.

"How'd you know?" He asked with dripping sarcasm and a waver in his voice, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"The entire way you're acting. I just got let loose from home after years of dealing with hating it there."

The ginger stared ahead and saw a pale, strong hand pop into his vision. Shaking himself out of his daze, he looked over and saw that the hand belonged to the black-haired man. His eyes were a piercing deep green with a cold, unblinking stare. He jostled his hand again to notify the ginger of its presence, then grabbed firmly when the handshake was initiated.

"I'm Nathan." The intimidating young man said. The ginger looked away and returned his gaze.

"Pickles."

Nathan looked confused. "Pickles? What the fuck kind of name is Pickles?"

Pickles looked away with a pained look. "I don't want to associate with my family, or any name they gave me."

Nathan's tough grimace turned into a look of care momentarily hearing Pickles say what he said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He said softly.

Pickles nodded. "It's fine," he mumbled, "You wouldn't have known."

They sat in silence, save for an occasional bus pulling up and departing now and then. "Where are you headed?" Pickles asked, "I'm going to Tomahawk, Wisconsin, but what about you?"

Nathan shrugged and shook his head. "I just take whichever bus ride is the cheapest. I've been wanting to get out of Florida since I started high school. Now that I've dropped out of school I'm able to get away." He handed Pickles his ticket, which also read as Tomahawk, Wisconsin.

"Where's your luggage?" Pickles asked as he stared at the ticket.

"I don't have any. All I have is what I'm wearing." Nathan said. Pickles raised his eyebrows, then looked to the man beside him.

"Bad idea in Wisconsin." Pickles muttered.

"It's May," Nathan scoffed, "I'll be fine 'til November."

"You really underestimate how early the winters are then, don't you?" He chuckled.

Nathan glared and stared, which made the man look away nervously. "Sorry. Do you want a sweatshirt?" He asked.

Nathan nodded slowly. When he was given Pickles's sweatshirt, he attempted to put it on but failed. "Your little stick body's too small. Sorry Pickles." Pickles turned bright red from anger which made Nathan almost beam with a mischievous smirk. "What else do you have in that wimpy little bag of yours?"

Pickles looked up at the sign of rules by the ticket master and saw "No Drinking," but still pulled the six-pack he had out of his bag and tossed one to Nathan. "I hope Bud Light's okay," Pickles whispered.