Hiccup knew he was foolish to believe it was over. Things had been different after Hiccup had defeated the red death, his father had been proud, his village had finally seen him as one of them, and most of all Stoick had stopped beating him. But like always Hiccup's luck didn't last.
Hiccup currently swept and cleaned the house for when his father would come home. He made sure to do everything he possibly could to keep his father in the good mood he's been in since the battle at the nest. He would clean the house, wash his fathers clothes and always make sure there was a cup of ale on the table for when he father would burst through the door exhausted from his chiefly duties.
Today was no exception and he was very much pleased with how sparkling clean the entire house was. Hiccup walked into the kitchen and poured a cup of ale and rested it in front of the seat his father always took. He walked over to his father's leather chair that rested next to the crackling fire-place and placed some soft furs onto the seat, so Stoick will be comfortable when he finishes his ale and decides to take a seat in front of the fire and relax, like he usually does.
Hiccup turned as he heard the creak of the doorknob. Stoick stepped into his house to find swept floors, sparkling clean dishes and Hiccup standing next to his leather chair staring at him with large green eyes.
Even after Stoick had stopped hitting the boy, Hiccup still inadvertently flinched and cowered from his touch. It always hurt Stoick to see the fear that resided in the boys eyes, he hated the way he had treated the boy, but when his anger took over there wasn't much he could do, at the time it would seem reasonable, it would seem like Hiccup deserved it. But when he would look down at his son to see him lying on the floor and bleeding, with heavy tears rolling down his fragile and beaten face, he would know that he had failed her.
Stoick walked over to the boy his heart aching a little as Hiccup cowered slightly under his looming form, and flinched as he dropped his large hand onto his small shoulder.
"Hey dad" Hiccup said trying to sound nonchalant.
"Hello son" Stoick greeted back as he ruffled the boys hair and walked passed him and into the kitchen.
Stoick took his seat at the table and drank the ale that was always there. He knew he should at least thank hiccup for always cleaning the house and setting a cup of ale for when he gets home, but for some reason he just can't. The other part of him, the part that strikes the boy just for saying the wrong thing, doesn't want to acknowledge how it treats the boy, that maybe Hiccup doesn't deserve this, this part of himself waits for the boy to make a mistake, it waits for the opportunity to watch the boy whimper and hurt, it waits for power and control.
Hiccup takes his seat next to his father, with a gleam in his eyes happy that maybe today he'll once again get lucky and not be hit.
"So dad I had this idea about how we could improve the saddles" Hiccup said as he brought out the small notebook he kept in his pocket along with his charcoal pencil.
He did this most nights, rattling off ideas as Stoick drank his ale, Stoick didn't mind, he liked hearing the boy talk, watching the gleam in his eyes as he went on about new inventions or improvements, he knew Hiccup was finally happy to be listened to, and he was happy for his son.
"That's sounds like a great idea" Stoick said beaming at his son, once he had finished talking.
Hiccup had a small genuine grin, he loved hearing his father proud of him, before the red death, Stoick barely acknowledged the boy unless it was to beat him, but now his father was finally proud of him.
"Thanks dad"
Hiccup stood happily, heading to his room. Maybe things have changed.
But of course it didn't last. On his way past his father, hiccup's hip hit the edge of the table. The boy watched in his horror as the mug of ale his father had just placed back on the table fell over and poured all of its contents onto his fathers lap. Hiccup for the first time noticed that his fathers notebook was resting on his lap, the notebook where he kept everything, his battle plans, improvements for Berk, everything. And it was now permanently ruined by Hiccup's clumsiness.
Hiccup could only stand there and watch as his father raised his head towards him with a look of anger, a look he recognized, the look he always got before his father hit him, the look he hoped he would never see again.
Before Hiccup could sputter an apology his father's hand had already cracked across his cheek in a harsh and violent slap that sent needles of pain crawling along the entirety of his face.
Hiccup fell to the floor clutching his now red cheek. Despite himself a single tear rolled down his cheek before he could stop it.
Stoick stared down at his son with anger boiling inside of him.
He deserved it.
Stoick watched as a single tear rolled down his son's small face.
You did the right thing.
His eyes were full of fear, pure and utter fear. You're not supposed to fear your father, you're not supposed to cower in his presence, or be scared of the next time he inflicts pain on you.
What have I done?
"Hiccup" Stoick said as he dropped to the floor on his knees in front of his son.
Hiccup, stumbled back a bit "I-I'm sorry I didn't m-mean to" Tears were pouring down Hiccup's face, as he spoke.
Stoick felt his stomach clench, He hoped just as much as Hiccup that this wouldn't happen again, but it always did, No matter how much he regretted it, Stoick just couldn't stop hurting his son.
Stoick wrapped the boy's small and trembling form in his arms running a soothing hand through his auburn hair, "Shh, it's okay" He cooed, to the shaken boy.
Why couldn't he stop? Why couldn't he see what he was doing?
He had a good reason before, or at least he thought he did, Hiccup was tripping over his own feet and unintentionally humiliating Stoick every chance he got.
Now things were different he saw what he was doing, he saw how much Hiccup didn't deserve it.
But there was still a part of him that just couldn't see things that way.