Author: The Magic Rat.
Pairing: Toki/Skwisgaar, Nathan/Charles
Warnings: implied m-preg.
Word Count: 487
Website – Ex Libris: www.winter-wood.net/ex-libris/…
Live Journal: delaese.livejournal.com/profil…
Disclaimer: Metalocalypse, the members of Dethklok, and lyrics to Dethklok songs belong to Brendon Small, Cartoon Network and Turner Music. Copyright for all stories and original characters such as Badger the Roadie is with the author, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.
Summary: You never know what will show up in the nanny-cam.
Author’s notes: Lydia is Nathan and Charles’ daughter from my FFVII/Metalocalypse crossover.
Toki was beyond hysterical. To hear him screaming his fear and worry to the blackened heavens above one would think Skwisgaar was dead rather than resting comfortably in his own bed.
“Toki it’s all right,” the doctor tried to assure him. “It was a very mild heart attack, there’s nothing wrong with him, he’s going to be just fine.”
“What caused it?” asked Charles.
“Well I’m really not sure,” said the doctor. “His heart has always been strong, there is no history of heart trouble in his family, he doesn’t smoke, he’s not obese… I’m at a loss. A healthy young man should not fall over like that. But he’s going to be just fine.”
Toki was slowly calming down as it penetrated his tiny brain that Skwisgaar was going to be all right. Nathan put a reassuring arm around him, hugging him as Toki turned to him for comfort.
“Well where was Skwisgaar when he went down?” asked Charles.
“The main fire hall,” said the doctor. “So there should be security footage of what happened.”
Charles called Gear 86 to bring up the tapes from the time period in question. After a few minutes 86 arrived with the tape and set it up. The image appeared on screen, and Charles, along with Nathan, Toki, Pickles, Murderface and the doctor, watched.
It was a rather charming little scene; little Lydia, not quite two, was seated on the floor playing with her toy horses, her long black hair hanging loose and wild. Also seated on the floor was Skwisgaar, head down, fingers flying over the neck of his Gibson. His eyes were closed, and he was miles away in his own mind, hearing and seeing nothing as he played. Lydia set down her horse, and looked at him.
“Unca Skwi-gar? I hungry.”
Skwisgaar did not hear. He just kept playing. Annoyed, Lydia spoke a bit louder.
“Unca Skwi-gar, I hungry!”
Once again, the child was unheard as Skwisgaar pushed himself to become faster yet, to weave better and more complex riffs. Lydia rolled her eyes and put down her horsie, then got to her feet in that butt-first way of little kids. She walked purposefully over to the tall blonde, and grabbed a handful of hair, lifting it up to expose an ear. Then, drawing in a lungful of air, she repeated her statement at a pitch and volume achievable only
by a tiny baby girl.“UNCA SKWI-GAR I HUNGRY!”
“Well then,” said Charles, as on screen Skwisgaar keeled over clutching his chest. “I think we have our answer. Nathan I think we need to talk to our daughter about screaming in people’s ears.”
He looked over at Nathan, who was flat on his back on the floor, laughing so hard his face was red and no sound was coming out.
“Fine,” said Charles. “I guess I’ll do it.”