A/N: Credit for this story goes to my sister, who gave me the idea :D I rewatched HTTYD2 again today guys ;-; the feels. Serious feels. I hope you all enjoy! Please review!

Heartbeat. His heart was still beating.

Maybe it was weak, maybe each beat came a little slower than the last, but it was still there, and…and…

Gobber seemed to read his mind, and finish his thought. "And it's not going to be there, unless we go through with this."

Stoick clenched his fist tight around his son's small shoulder – he had never wanted this for his child. Hiccup was the only family he had left, and Gothi wanted his permission to render this boy broken. He took a moment to compose himself, lowering his head. His beard lightly brushed against the freckled cheek as tears built up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

"Stoick," Gobber said gently. He knew exactly what his friend was thinking, even if he didn't say a word. "It's the right thing to do. If you don't do this…Hiccup's gonna die, Stoick."

The chieftain squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the tears before raising his head and speaking again. "Alright," he growled, in the voice he always used to hide grief or tears, "take the leg, then."

Gothi sighed sadly, and drew something in the sand with her staff.

Gobber looked pained, but resigned, and Stoick instantly sprang from his chair, releasing his son's shoulder. "What? What did she say?"

The blacksmith hesitated.

"Tell me." Stoick fought to keep his voice level – if he let his emotions get the best of him, he would end up sobbing and screaming right here. "Tell me what she said, Gobber."

The Viking swallowed uncertainly. "Um…well, Stoick…the thing is…Hiccup…could…still die…even, um…even if we take the leg. And, er…there is a, um…eighty-six percent chance of…of that."

"No!" Stoick sank down into the chair and grabbed up his son's hand, clinging to it like it was the only thing tying him to that earth. "No. He won't die. He won't." His voice was shaking but strong. "He won't die. He's…he's strong. Just…just like his mother. He'll make it. He'll make it." He leaned down, resting his forehead against the chest, and forgot about being strong, being a chief, being a leader first and a man second. The tears cascaded into his beard, his head tilted slightly so as to rest atop his son's chest.

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat. Heartbeat? Oh, gods…please, please let there be a heartbeat…

In a single, frozen moment, Hiccup held his breath, terrified of what he would hear, knowing what he would hear…a Night Fury never missed. He knew that. So why was he waiting, clinging to this last hope desperately, clinging to it as he had clung to his father's hand as a child…

Valka raised her head and slowly shook it. Hiccup needed no more confirmation for the truth he had already feared. The tears, which had already been stinging his eyes insistently, fell down his face, pouring, dripping off his chin and falling into the snow, ignored. All that he knew now was that he needed his father back by his side, needed to hear the man's voice again…oh, Stoick could scold him if he wished, smack him or yell at him or be furious, meet his gaze coldly, freeze him out if he wanted, but why couldn't he just wake up, and breathe again?

Hiccup threw himself down, over the body, his own wracked with grief, leaning his forehead against the chest, that horribly still chest, why couldn't it just rise and fall, why…why…why did it have to be so silent?

He tilted his head slightly and closed his eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around his father's waist, hot tears falling onto the man's furry cloak.

No heartbeat.