Ever since they had brought Toki back home he had been different, it had been expected. It would have been eerier if he had pretended like nothing was changed, everything had changed. Both him and Abigail spent nearly a month in the hospital wing of Mordhaus recovering; until they had gotten home they hadn't realized just how close to death their friends really were. Nathan spent a lot of time down in the hospital visiting Abigail, talking to her and mostly apologizing and trying to make out where the two of them stood. Skwisgaar had felt a sense of foreboding at the way the singer was slowly placing himself back by her side, but it seemed different this time. He eventually asked Pickles about the situation, if he was alright with the possibility of the two of them dating; the drummer had coolly responded that he didn't care about it that much anymore. It bothered him a little bit, but nothing like before; he was just grateful that nobody had died. Skwisgaar felt about the same way; he was amazed they had all made it out of that alive, he wasn't entirely sure how the Hell they made it out alive.

He himself had a difficult time going back to normal or finding a new sense of normality. At first it was because he wasn't sure if he should visit Toki or not down in the hospital ward, he wasn't sure he could see his friend like that anymore. He couldn't shake the still fresh memory of feeling his ribs beneath his skin; he'd lost so much weight. He had barely weighed a fucking thing when Skwisgaar had been holding him up, mentally he hadn't been all that present either. The lead guitarist noticed when he did finally visit him how much was off and how much it bothered him. Even if the hospital ward was just another part of their overly large home it didn't make it feel any less clinical or foreboding. He hated the smell of bleach, the sounds of beeping machines, and doctors talking about people like they were objects more than living beings with feelings and families. He didn't like hearing his friend being talked about in terms of the things wrong with him, being told his friend was hours away from death like it wasn't a big deal. Then again to a doctor it wasn't a big deal, people died all the time; they had to distance themselves away from caring about it to get through their jobs...Sort of like how they all distanced themselves from Toki and Abigail when they had thought they were dead, to make it hurt less. He felt a spike of guilt thinking on it. The guilt came down harder when he did visit his friend; seeing him in a brightly lit room compared to seeing him in a barely lit waste land of a basement were two very different things. At least in the darkness he couldn't see just how physically damaged he was, but here he could see it and it made him feel physically ill.

The youngest member of their group was under weight, his eyes slightly sunken back in his head and circled with bruises. His left eye was bloodied and according to the doctor it looked like he would be partially to maybe even completely blind from now on in that eye; going so long without proper food and medication along with his face being shoved against the ground and rocks and glass piercing into his eye had injured it badly. His face had cuts and bruises along it, circular cuts around his neck from a collar he'd been forced to wear, more cuts and gashes along his torso and arms, and his hair had been so tangled that they had to cut it until it was just past his shoulders. Apparently he hadn't been too happy with having to have his hair cut or touched in anyway, they didn't know why since he wouldn't say much. For the most part he didn't say much when Skwisgaar went to see him; he had looked at him when he had entered the room, but quickly glanced away like he was scared. Skwisgaar felt stupid for going down there, he didn't know what it was that he wanted to say or how he should act. He just sat there awkwardly feeling sick and horribly guilty every time he looked at his friend. In his mind he screamed at himself to just apologize, it was the right thing to do. He had nearly died, because they spent a year doing nothing but getting wasted and pretending he wasn't part of their lives, and none of it would have happened if he'd just spent more time with him.

No matter how much he said he was sorry in his mind he couldn't get it to come out, he just choked on the words. It wasn't like he was incapable of saying it, not like Nathan at all, but he couldn't do it. He felt it, he felt sorry with every fiber of his very being, but he couldn't say all of the things building up inside of his mind. Things he'd thought over late at night when his friend had still been missing. Things he wished he had told him or done with him; he had a lot he wanted to say, but none of it would come out. He couldn't even fake a simple awkward conversation. Not like it mattered anyway, Toki wasn't talking; he stared off mostly and reacted little to things around him. Loud sounds made him flinch or just freak out in general, Skwisgaar only went to see him maybe two other times after the first. He never could get himself to apologize or explain himself, explain what selfish assholes they were and tell him how he deserved much better friends than what he was stuck with. He never got himself to say any of it.

By the time Toki was allowed to go back to living like normal, as normal as one could get anyway he spent another month by himself. He spent most of his time locked up in his bedroom only coming out after the others were asleep so that he could eat. Skwisgaar had a faint paranoia that he knew about how and why it had taken so long for them to get to them.

"Dude ya think he knows?" Pickles asked as they sat around the table in their kitchen drinking.

"How, guy never fucking leaves his room." Nathan responded

"Uh internet, kid's got a fucking laptop. Seriously though, he could be pissed at us."

Skwisgaar plucked nervously at the strings of his guitar, his fingers worked faster as he grew more anxious. They wouldn't be having this conversation if they had just gone looking for their friends in the first place instead of being placated by Ofdensen saying that he would look for the two of them. He had said it would be fine, the man practically ran his own army how could they know it would be that difficult?

"We wouldn't have this problem if we just went after them in the first place." Skwisgaar spoke up, he had been quiet for the past hour.

The others had forgotten he was even in the room.

"Yeah we know that Skwisgaar, but Ofdensen said he had it under control." Nathan shot back glaring at the blond.

"Does Abigail know?" The guitarist asked.

Nathan looked down, "Uh yeah I told her after the first week we got back. I figured better to just admit we're fucking assholes than for her to find out another way y'know?" He answered shrugging

The Swedish musician wanted to ask how she had handled the news, but he could tell Nathan didn't exactly want to talk about that anymore. As far as he could tell if she was angry she was getting through it or was through it and they were mostly forgiven. He was slightly amazed by how well her and Nathan's relationship had developed after what had happened. He'd had the feeling that under different circumstances with less tension she possibly would have dated the black haired vocalist anyways.

"Maybe we should have told Toki too?" Pickles brought up

"Why, he was so fucking out of it for almost a month...I don't think he would have fucking understood if we had told him."

Skwisgaar had to agree. It felt like another lame excuse, but they didn't know how much the Norwegian really did retain through that first month. He'd been so out of it, it wasn't anything he really needed to hear so soon after what he had been through. Now that it was over it just seemed wrong that they still hadn't told him and the worry he'd find out through the internet or the TV was strong.

"One of us could go talk to him, see if he knows." Pickles suggested, he looked around the table to see if anybody would volunteer to go.

Murderface was the first to get up and leave the room to avoid being picked, not that anybody would have chosen him in the first place.

"I'll go tell him or explain to him, depends on what he knows."

Skwisgaar could see the relief amongst his other two friends when he offered to be the one to go and talk to their rhythm guitarist. He mildly expected, wanted for one of them to offer and come along with him to make it maybe slightly easier, but they didn't. They went into a conversation about drum tracking after wishing him good luck with what he was willing to go and do.

He decided to leave his guitar in his own room before he went to talk to his friend, he needed to learn to not rely on it so heavily. He knew this was going to be hard, very hard; this was going to be difficult on a level that made him want to run back and grab his guitar half way to Toki's room.

He spent a good four minutes just standing outside of the younger man's room wondering what he was even going to say to him or ask him. He had no discreet way to ask and see if he knew about how long it had been, as far as they knew Toki could know literally nothing about how long it had taken. If he did know how long then that didn't mean he knew why it took so long, there was always that hope. He wasn't sure he could live with himself lying like that, letting his closest friend think that they had spent that entire year trying to find him and make sure he was still alive. If Skwisgaar had been braver, smarter, and less selfish then maybe he would have, but by himself he would have been useless with something like that. It had been something all four of them needed to do, not just one or two of them.

Skwisgaar tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh, he wished he had his guitar with him.

He tried to convince himself that he could do this, if it got bad he could just break down crying and apologize until his voice went raw. It would be the ultimate low for himself, but he was willing to do that, he felt like shit.

After another minute's worth of over thinking and building anxiety he managed to open the door, he was sort of surprised that it wasn't locked for once. He found the younger musician seated on his bed with his guitar playing it for the first time since he had been about seventeen years old. There had been a period there where he would play when he got depressed or anxious, but it had ended rather quickly; Skwisgaar's occasional complaints about his skills had never helped.

Toki didn't look up when the older man entered the room, he paused for barely a second in his playing when Skwisgaar closed the door behind himself. He had to silently admit to himself that Toki's playing sounded rather good. It had never sounded terrible, there were times he sounded worse than a beginner, but it was mostly due to nerves more than anything. When he actually wanted to play then he could play close to the same skill level as the lead guitarist. Watching him play like this reminded him of when he had been sixteen; the length of his still growing hair, the look of concentration on his face and the way he bit at his bottom lip reminded Skwisgaar of the teen they had taken into their shit apartment. The one who acted more like a house keeper and cook for the better part of the first several months than a guitarist. Skwisgaar momentarily forgot why he was in his friend's bedroom, he sat down on the chair next to the desk and watched him play.

"Why are you in here?" Toki asked just barely looking up from his guitar.

Skwisgaar was jolted back into reality by the sound of his voice, it was soft but had a command to it almost like the older man's presence was annoying to him.

"Oh right. I was just wondering...How are you doing?" He asked lamely his words coming out awkwardly.

Toki stopped playing long enough to comb his fingers back through his shaggy brown hair pushing it away from his face. He met Skwisgaar's eyes for a moment in that process giving the blond a good look at his faded left eye, another hit of guilt bringing his anxiety back all over again. Skwisgaar was the first to look away. Toki began playing again, the song was slower and the other man could hear the sadness and frustration in whatever it was he was playing.

"I'm okay I guess" He answered

Skwisgaar bit at his lower lip pulling and tugging until he felt the skin break.

"Um I was...Have you perhaps seen the news or anything on the internet since you got back?" He inwardly cursed himself at the slight feminine pitch his voice took on and the way his question came out obvious and uneasy.

He tensed when Toki stopped playing and gently lay his guitar down on his bed. He didn't look at Skwisgaar, he sat with his back straight and stared down at the floor.

"That's interesting, I didn't think you would bring it up. I guess nobody else wanted to talk to me about it?" He asked his voice was still soft, but there was something deceiving and dark to it.

Skwisgaar noticed him smiling slightly, there was something cold about it that made him feel nervous.

"I wanted to come talk to you about it." He offered his own voice coming out weak.

He wanted to at least fake calmness, pretend this was no big deal and that to treat it other wise would be ridiculous, but this was big.

"Right. To answer you, yeah I saw online about it. A lot and then the TV, I learned a lot."

He met the older man's eyes glaring at him, the coldness and hurt Skwisgaar found there made him feel like he could start crying and throw himself at his friend's feet begging for him to forgive him or at least to not hate him. He thought about the last time Toki had been this pissed at him, how lonely he had felt having his friend want nothing to do with him.

"I wanted to tell you, I really did" Skwisgaar said wanting to explain himself as much as he could.

"Why didn't you, you had a whole month to tell me."

"You were still in the hospital, I didn't think it was something you needed. I'm telling you now, why does it matter?"

He regretted the comment the second he saw the switch go off in his friend's eyes from cold hurt to borderline rage.

"Why does it matter, I nearly died. You fucking left us there, a year...I spent a year in that place going through pure Hell and the whole time I believed you were coming to save me that you spent all that time looking for us. Then you came and when I finally go online and when I turn on the TV I find out that no you weren't looking. You were getting drunk and stoned and screwing every slut you could find." The younger man got up from his bed, he moved to where Skwisgaar sat.

He towered over him, Skwisgaar was too ashamed and scared to say anything or to make a move to stand up.

"Do you eve know what happened to me?"

Skwisgaar didn't respond.

"I was treated like a dog; I was kept chained up like a fucking dog, when I got fed it wasn't even real food. He fed us the remains of the revengencers that got killed and that's if we were lucky. He kicked me and cut me, I haven't been through hell like that since I was little. What were you doing while I went through that? Smoking meth and acting like I don't even fucking matter."

"I'm sorry" Skwisgaar whispered

He couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. He was so ashamed of himself, it didn't have to be this way. None of that had to happen, so many things did not have to happen, but they had and it was their fault that it went this way.

Toki grabbed him by the front of his shirt hauling him to his feet, Skwisgaar expected to be punched or completely ripped to shreds.

"Get out of my fucking sight"

He shoved him away, the blond haired musician stumbled and nearly fell on his face, but grabbed hold of the corner of the desk catching himself. He hung his head and left the room closing the door behind him. As he walked away he heard the sound of yelling along with the sound of breaking glass.