Heya, so this is just an idea I am trying out, so let me know if I should continue it.

Enjoy! Lu xxx

It was a couple of years ago. He had been on a walk with his sister, Beth, who was a year or so younger than him. They'd been walking in the fields, just entering one filled with wild grass when they came across a large pylon. There had been no fencing, and Beth had run straight for it, shouting all sorts of nonsense about how all of the cool kids at school climbed pylons and how everyone would think that she was a total badass if she got to the top. It was about two hundred metres away, through thick long grass seed, and Beth had been much fitter than him. Even if she was just cascading through the brush, and he was sprinting through a set of tractor tracks, he was still a fair distance away when she started to climb up the metal structure.

It had been raining earlier on, and the metal was slippery, so she hadn't got very far up by the time Jack reached the base of it. He braced his hands on his knees, panting for a second, before he looked up at Beth. She was reaching up for the next section, and Jack could just imagine her tongue sticking out in effort. The wind had started to blow harder, and her dark brown hair was flying all over the place. In a moment of madness Jack considered how she would be rushing to fix the tangled mess as soon as she got home; but then he cleared his mind and stared back up at her.

She was still reaching, on her tiptoes – she was very small for a thirteen year old – and the wind was picking up dangerously now. She herself was starting to sway, just like her hair.

"Beth, get down!"

She turned her head around, steadying herself on a supporting pillar. Jack let himself relax just a fraction more.

"Why?"

"Why?! Beth, it's a bloody pylon!"

"So?"

Jack face palmed.

"Firstly, you are going to fall and break your neck in a moment, and second, you are going to get electrocuted the next time a charge passes through here!"

Beth shook her head and turned back around, reaching up again for the next metal bar, a cross in the middle of a square in the tower.

"Jack, grow a pair, nothing is going to…"

She had nearly reached the bar, fully on her toes, wavering precariously, when another gust of wind crashed passed, and knocked her right off her feet. She teetered for a moment and then fell, just as a telltale buzz made its way to the pylon, along the many over-head lines. Lights began to flash. Beth screamed, and Jack ran to break her fall. He caught her in his arms, and then stumbled backwards, dropping her the final distance. And then he fell himself, tripping over a rough stone, right onto the pylon on the left of his body – as the surge of electricity passed.

Jack had been in hospital in a coma for a week, and then had remained under close monitoring for another five once he had woken up. He had suffered severe burns and a heart attack when the bolt had struck him – it had left him with a string of snowflake scars, all the way down the left side of his neck, down his left arm and leg, covering half of his torso, winding around his ankle and wrist like morbid bracelets. They had been red, raised and painful at first, blistering like all burns, but now, after two years, the red had died down, cooled to a lattice of thin silvery white lines. He had five or six drugs that he had to take every day for his heart, to stop him from having another heart attack – though the doctors did say that they would give him a normal life expectancy.

Because of the seriousness of his burns, he hadn't been able to go outside since that event until tomorrow, just to be sure that he didn't suffer any thing else, that he didn't get any other skin related issues as a result of the burns, to make sure that they healed. The lack of sunlight had made him very pale, coupled with the fact that his once chocolate brown hair had been bleached by the strain of the shock to a white, he looked like a ghost. The only thing that made him seem alive was his deep brown eyes, but he even covered those – for a long time he had been a user of contact lenses; he'd merely switched the clear ones for icy blue tinted ones so that they didn't look so startling.

He was able to leave his house for the first time the next day – well, for the first time to do anything other than go to appointments or checkups – to start sixth form. He'd managed to get all of his GCSE's to a reasonably high grade with a home tutor, which had been a relief – it had all been paid for with the compensation from the electricity company, because despite the fact that Beth had broken the law climbing the pylon, it hadn't been cordoned off, which again was supposed to be illegal. And now, for the first time in a couple of years, he was being subjected to social interaction, and would have to properly accept the changes the accident had wrought into him – because others would be acknowledging them. He was absolutely terrified, which was probably why he had left the last medical form until the last minute – so he would have something to occupy himself with other than mindless fretting.

He had just finished listing the drugs he took and was explaining what he had to do in terms of his burns – basically just make sure he wore factor 50 whenever he was in bright sunlight in the summer, as they had had the given amount of time to fully heal – when there was a knock on the door and the voice of his sister slipped into the silence of his room.

"Jack, can I have a word?"

Jack sighed, rubbed his hand across his forehead and used the other to put down the form, which he had been holding up to read. He was still only half way through it, and it was late, and his contacts were beginning to irritate his eyes.

"Beth, I'm kind of in the middle of something. Can't it wait?"

He grabbed his contact solution and gently removed the icy blue lenses from his eyes, closing the lid before rubbing them ruefully. He only had to remove the things when he was tired, but he still kept a pair of black glasses for the evenings or when he read; he put them on and picked the biro back up again, poising it to continue writing when there was another knock on the door. He dropped his hand down in exasperation.

"Beth, can't it wait?!"

There was a sort of snuffling noise and then Beth answered in a very small, cracked voice.

"Jack, please can I just talk to you?"

"Is it really that urgent?"

There was the sound of creaking as his door opened a sliver, and two brown eyes identical to his own peered around the edge. They were puffy and glazed over; it was clear that Beth had been crying, a lot. Jack sighed and pushed his chair back along the floorboards – he hated carpets – and got up to fully open the door. As he walked over, he looked down to check the watch on his right hand. It had reached eleven, and he really ought to have been asleep, but he had seen the look on Beth's face.

He swung open the door and Beth padded in slowly, her arms hugging herself protectively and her head bowed. She looked up as Jack shut the door behind him and glanced around uneasily before settling down on the green sofa bed Jack had had since he was ten. Beth drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them against herself, settling her chin on them. Jack walked over and smiled at her in what she called his joker smile, the one he always used when he was trying to make her smile. When he saw the look she gave him he dropped it and perched down next to her. Placing his hand on her back, he began to rub slow, reassuring circles on her left shoulder blade.

"Beth, what's going on?"

She didn't respond but instead dropped her forehead to her knees and drew them more tightly to her chest. Silent sobs began to rack her and she leant into Jack slightly. He sighed and wrapped his arm around her, hugging her close to him and rocking her backwards and forwards slightly, the way their mother had comforted the both of them when they were little and scared of the dark. She grasped onto his t-shirt and clung onto him tightly.

"Beth – Beth, you're going to have to tell me what's wrong, sweetie. Is this just the nerves about moving to a new school?"

Jack's dad had decided to move all of them halfway across the country before he went to school, to avoid endless questioning about his accident – he had wanted to keep it low key and what better way than to move to a place where no one knew anything about it?

"No."

Beth shook her head violently. Jack drew back a little and she let go, rocking herself gently. He slapped his hands onto his knees and made as if to stand up but his sister grabbed his sleeve, and he promptly settled back down next to her.

"Don't go."

She whispered.

"I wasn't going to sweetie; I was just going to get you a tissue."

Beth sniffed. Jack turned a little to face her and clasped his hands together, raising his forefingers and resting them on his top lip.

"Look, you're going to have to tell me what's up Beth, or I won't be able to help you."

She sighed and wiped her eyes.

"C…could you get me that tissue?"

Jack nodded.

"Sure."

He stood up and slid out of the room, quickly, dashing into the bathroom and grabbing a pack of tissues from one of the cupboards. When he got back into his room, Beth had sat up and had her feet on the floor, wiping her eyes on the bottom of her dressing gown. She grimaced appreciatively when he chucked her the packet and carried on attempting to sort herself out – although she still looked like a wreck.

"Sorry."

She whispered. Jack slouched backwards on the swivel chair at his desk and rested his arms on the back of it, wheeling it away from the desk and over near to her. He spun around in front of her and pushed his glasses right down his nose, looking over the top of them.

"How can I help, madam?"

Beth smiled weakly and hugged herself with her left arm, balancing her right elbow on it and resting her chin on her palm, slightly nibbling her little finger.

"Well…it's…"

Beth breathed in deeply, her breath shaky, as if she was about to cry again. Jack bit his lip.

"Would it help if you wrote it down? Could you tell me then?"

She nodded and drew her iPhone out of her dressing gown pocket, swiping several things and tapping a few buttons before she gulped and handed it over to him. It had a case that Beth had made herself with rhinestones glued all over it. One of them fell off as he took it, and he was running it through his fingers when he read the message. He looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Shit, Beth! When did you find out?"

"I took the test just before I came into your room. It said I was about six weeks along."

"Six…six weeks…"

Jack ran his hands through his hair. The phone lay forgotten on the chair next to him.

"It's Jamie's."

"Yeah, I'd figured…oh Beth…"

"Please don't tell Dad or Mum. Not yet. Please?"

Jack got up and knelt down on the floor next to her, grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes. She had started to cry again, and he pulled her into a hug.

"Of course not. Of course not. It's going to be alright."

Rapunzel was sat in her room, plaiting her hair, when the chief care worker, Mrs Gothel, knocked on the door of the bedroom she shared with Rachel, another girl in the home. Both of the sat still for a moment before Rachel sighed and got up – the home had a policy of only entering the kids' rooms if they opened the door, except in a case of emergency. The other girl muttered a few words to Mrs Gothel before walking back and slumping onto her bed again.

"She wants to speak to you, Punzie."

Sighing, Rapunzel got up, securing her hair with an elastic, and tied her faux-silk kimono closed as she walked over to the door where the woman with the wild black hair was waiting. She shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms over her chest protectively, and leant against the doorframe. She looked down at the floor.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did."

She drawled. Rapunzel internally rolled her eyes.

"What do you want, Gothel?"

The woman chuckled.

"How ungrateful, considering I have in my hand your ticket out of here."

Rapunzel couldn't stop her eyebrows from rising.

"Really?"

She smirked and inclined her head, handing over the folded piece of paper in her hand. Rapunzel took it warily.

"It appears so. Some guy wants to adopt you. Here's the details about him. You leave tomorrow when you get back from school, so I suggest you start packing now."

Mrs Gothel began to walk away, and just before she reached the end of the dingy corridor she looked over her shoulder.

"I would say I'll miss you, but I won't. More like good riddance, Rapunzel Jones.

And she was gone. Rapunzel sighed and turned back into the room, swinging the door shut behind her. Rachel was lying back on the top bunk, fiddling with the hem of her frayed woollen jumper. When Rapunzl came back in she sat up and leant her elbows on the bar, resting her head on her cupped hands, legs swinging idly below. She smirked at Rapunzel as she went and sat in the tattered armchair by the window and leant on her hand, staring blindly out of the window.

"So…what was that all about then?"

Rapunzel flipped her head around to face Rachel.

"Come on. Don't pretend that you weren't listening."

She deadpanned. Rachel shrugged, and began to tap the supporting pillar of the bed with her foot.

"Okay, so what is he like? What does it say he's like, anyway?"

Flipping open the folded piece of paper, Rapunzel subconsciously drew her legs up so that they were crossed in front of her. Her eyes darted across the paper quickly, and then she handed it to Rachel, who was reaching down to collect it. Rubbing her eyes, Rapunzel got up and began pacing the room, her kimono falling loose again, her bare feet making virtually no noise on the tiled floor. The other girl whistled.

"Oh, Rapunzel, you've got a real corker here! He looks loaded, I mean look at that house! And that garden. And he's Scottish! And… oh. Oh okay, that's why you're not jumping up and down with excitement."

"Yeah."

The pacing continued and Rachel sighed sympathetically. She swung herself down from the bed, the resulting noise echoing through the room, and placed a hand on her shoulder, halting her.

"They're just other kids."

And then Rapunzel lost it.

"Just other kids! There isn't anything "just" about suddenly acquiring siblings! I…I don't know how to have a sibling! Let alone a sister the same age as me who has just lost three brothers and her mother!"

Rachel shrugged.

"You have lost your parents. Maybe you could relate?"

She was shot a death glare.

"My parents were killed in a car crash when I was nine months old and I can't remember their faces. I don't even have a picture. This girl's Mum ran off to Canada six weeks with her three year old triplet brothers with only a note saying she never wanted to see them again. What a connection!"

Cocking her hand on her hip, Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Punzie, are you going to see any positives in this?"

Rapunzel started flapping her arms about.

"I'm about to acquire a sister Rachel!"

"Well, you've put up with me!"

"You're a friend, not a sister!"

Rachel raised her arms in defeat.

"Okay, okay, I give up! But you could at least be a bit happy – you're getting out of here."

Rapunzel ran a hand over the top of her head, flicking her impossibly long braid over her shoulder. Slumping down onto her bed, she rubbed her eyes tiredly again.

"You're right Rach. I'm sorry."

The other girl nodded her head.

"I know. I get it. Would you like some help packing?"

Rapunzel nodded her head, slowly standing up and sighing.

"Have you got any idea what I should start with?"

Rachel looked thoughtful.

"Hmm. Well. Clothes is always alright? I take it you've already picked out your outfit for your first day tomorrow?"

Rapunzel gave her a look.

"Obviously."

She said, but not unkindly. Rachel smiled.

"Let's get cracking then."

Rapunzel winded the waist length braid into a massive bun on top of her head. Securing it with a used paintbrush, she rubbed her hands together, suddenly all business.

"Let's."

Merida threw herself into one of the kitchen chairs, unclipping her helmet and shaking her mad red hair out. She placed it down on next to her just as her father spooned a ladle full of suspicious looking soup into the bowl in front of her. She wrinkled her nose a little at it, but raised a spoonful of it up to eye level and after a small inspection swallowed.

"This isn't half bad!"

Her father turned around and stared at her. He was wearing a frilly pink pinny. Merida fought the urge to laugh.

"What do you mean 'isn't half bad'?"

She shrugged.

"No offence Dad, but it looks a bit…well a bit…um…"

"Dangerous?"

"Yep, I think that just about sums it up. Since when did you start cooking instead of buying ready meals?"

Her father took a deep breath and settled down opposite her with his own, considerably larger bowl of the mixture. He swirled it nervously – which six months ago would have been an action that Merida would never have associated with the man – and then looked up at her, again nervously. She raised an eyebrow and set down her spoon.

"Okay, Dad, what's up?"

He pretended to not have heard and continued swirling. He became suddenly interested in the table, which was just a slab of badly polished pine covered in salt and pepper and other random items of debris, and so averted his gaze from hers. Merida tucked a rogue strand of hair behind her ear, leant back and crossed her arms. Her eyebrow was still raised.

"Cut it out Dad, I know there's something that you're not telling me."

He put down his spoon and sighed, looking up at her.

"Yeah, okay, there is."

Merida threw up her hands.

"What. A. Surprise."

Her father glared at her and she stopped waving her hands in the air and put them sedately in her lap.

"Merida, this is serious. Well, important. Well, please just listen."

Merida rolled her eyes.

"Fine. What have you done this time?"

"Well, as you know, I have been feeling a little bit lonely since your mother and your brothers…yep…so…"

She laughed a bit and sloped backwards into her chair.

"Dad, have you got a girlfriend? Because it's totally cool if you do."

Her father made a face that was probably meant to be a wince.

"Not exactly. I know you have also been lonely…"

Merida narrowed her eyes and leaned forwards over the table, her hand clasped tightly in front of her on it.

"Okay, just spit it out, please. Enough with the softening. This sounds interesting."

He took a deep breath.

"I'm adopting you a sister."

Merida's eyes flew open and she stood up in shock, her hands splayed out and braced widely on the table. She was still leaning forward, and the chair had scraped back along the cobbled floor. She had pushed it back so fast and hard that it had left marks. Her father was wincing up at her, but didn't really seem shocked. It was clear he had expected this reaction.

"I know you're not the best happy with this Merida, but, please…"

"Are you kidding? This is amazing!"

That really made her father blink.

"Umm…what?"

Merida had started jumping up and down like an excited child, her arms going mad, spinning around in circles.

"This is great!"

"So you're fine with this?"

That made her stop at last, and she leant on the back of her chair, breathing just a little bit more heavily than usual. She swung herself back down onto the chair, bracing the edges of the seat so hard that her knuckles went white. She was grinning manically.

"Of course! I've always wanted a sister!"

Her father gulped and nodded his head.

"Okay, well that is a relief. So…would you like to know more about her?"

Merida nodded excitedly, her eyes wide and shining.

"Well, she's your age; she's actually starting the same sixth form as you tomorrow, so you'll probably meet her then. She's called Rapunzel Jones; her parents died in a car accident when she was less than a year old, their car got hit by a van and exploded on impact. They were on the way to see her at the time – she'd been admitted into hospital for a virus. Blames herself for what happened, apparently. Got moved to a home in the area three years ago after she got too old for the home she was in before. She has previously suffered from depression and anxiety, and… she likes painting, and she has really super long blonde hair, and yep. That's all I know."

Merida smiled.

"When's she moving in?"

"Tomorrow, a couple of hours after school. She'll probably be here when you get back from riding Angus. And she'll probably be dead nervous, so don't be all in her face."

She snorted.

"Says you!"

"Okay, so we're both as bad as each other. You know what I mean. Just be…"

"Sensitive?"

"Yeah."

"And what should I do if I meet her at school tomorrow?"

"Um…act normal? She'll probably know who you are, so just be pleasant, and introduce yourself nicely, and yeah."

"So basically figure it out as I go along?"

"Yep. Yep."

Merida smiled again and looked up at her dad, who also looked ecstatic.

"I'm so glad you're happy about this Merida."

"You know that I've always wanted a sister. And now I get one my own age, who I'll actually be able to have a mature conversation with, and she already sounds awesome and I haven't met her yet."

A look of realisation crossed her face.

"Dad! Dad, I could teach her to ride and everything!"

He smiled and nodded at her.

"Just don't overwhelm her, okay. I don't want to freak her out more than she probably already is."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Fine. I'll behave."

"Good."

"Right, I think I'm going to get an early night. I need to be fully awake for tomorrow."

Her father nodded, and she slipped off the chair and ran up the stairs, her hand hovering just above the wonky and loose banister because of the splinters. At the top of them she turned right and then took the first door on the left into her blue room, falling with her arms spread wide onto her bed. After a couple of moments, she dragged herself off of it, still smiling like an idiot, to brush her teeth before she went to sleep.

Hiccup glanced backwards up at the clock on the wall above the headboard. Half eleven. He removed the sketchpad on which he had been doodling from his knees with a sigh and sat up, stretching his arms up and outwards, and then moving forward to unclip his prosthetic from his leg. Once it was off, he dropped it by the side of the bed and removed his headphones, cutting out the sound of Queen, and introducing the sound of his mother and father still having a screaming match with his older sister Astrid, who'd just got back from her gap year and had decided to screw university and just go out and get into work or an apprenticeship. At first they had been supportive of her, if not pleased, but it had been several months and she hadn't even made an effort to become employed, and…well...hours of fighting when Astrid got back from drinking with her mates wasn't uncommon.

A smash that sounded ominously like his mother's prized antique vase breaking rang upstairs and Hiccup replaced his ear buds, keen to be oblivious. Clearly fate wasn't on his side, because even with both of his headphones in and heavy metal on full volume, he couldn't drown out the shouting. Growling, he rolled onto his side and pulled his pillow over his head, earning a disgruntled yelp from his dog Toothless, who had been snoozing on the bed and was now being squished by Hiccup. He uttered a muffled sorry and scooted up against the headboard, peering through the pillow to see a couple of chestnut eyes glaring ruefully at him. He scratched Toothless behind the ears as a means of apology and then gave up trying to block out the arguments and threw his iPod onto his bedside table, resting his head back onto the replaced pillow and vowing to get some sleep. He flicked the switch and darkness encased the room.

Thirty minutes and about two hundred tosses later it became apparent that he was never going to get to sleep. It had begun raining outside, typical British weather, and the sound of the rain tapping on the window just made the racket in the house worse rather than drowning it out. Toothless was sat in the corner whining – he hated storms – and neither it nor his family showed any signs of easing up any time soon. Screaming in frustration into his pillow, Hiccup, with great defeat, shoved his stump back into his prosthetic and began to make his way downstairs in his pyjamas, where he could clearly hear Astrid raging about Stoick and Valhalla being unsupportive…

"And stupid! You don't know anything!"

"Need I remind you of your A level results, Astrid?!"

There was another (though less minor) smash as Hiccup entered the kitchen and he winced as he saw the fresh beer stain begin to drip down the white wall of the kitchen. As soon as he entered, everyone fell silent and froze. The place was a mess – the chairs were strewn all over the place, some lying kicked over on the floor, and it appeared like the bottle that Astrid had just aimed at their father wasn't the first. His sister herself was poised with her arm raised and pointed outwards from where she had chucked it, his father stood red faced with his palms splayed on the table, the veins in his neck twitching, and his mother was stood looking furious between the two, her hands on her hips. They all looked a bit startled at his sudden appearance, but seemed to recover quickly, relaxing as if trying to hide the fact that something was wrong. When it was pretty obvious what had being going on.

"Oh look, its Cripples."

Astrid smirked at him, her hands crossed across her chest, her hip cocked slightly, but Hiccup ignored her. Stoick turned to him and spoke through gritted teeth, though it was clear that the anger wasn't directed at him.

"Henry, what are you doing? I thought that you were asleep."

Hiccup shook his head and glared at the three of them in turn. None of them drew back – stubbornness was a family trait – but Astrid was starting to look a bit uncomfortable and Stoick did appear to be panicking just a little bit.

"You expect me to sleep through…" He gestured to the complete mess in front of him. "All of this?!"

Stoick sighed and began to rub his forehead.

"How much of this have you heard."

"Oh pretty much everything." He nodded. "And everything last night, and the night before that as well. So yep. All of it."

Stoick sighed as if to control himself and Valhalla walked out of the room, muttering under her breath and breathing deeply, a clear sign that she was done. She shut the door behind her quietly, and even Astrid drew in a sharp breath - she was scary calm. Scary calm Valhalla was worse than raging crazy Valhalla and the latter had been enough to make grown men cry when she had felt like it. Stoick turned back on Astrid with a new wave of anger, his face an impossible shade of purple, his entire body shaking with rage.

"I. WANT. YOU. OUT."

He growled, with enough venom to kill several polar bears. Astrid stepped backwards and leant on the counter as if Stoick had slapped her across the face, her eyes wide open and her mouth impersonating a black hole. Hiccup gulped and began to back away slowly towards the stairs, thoughts racing through his mind so fast he barely had time to process one before the next one slammed it out of the way. He blinked to try and clear them as Astrid began to point a shaking finger at their father. His vision was still blurry but he tried to focus.

"You…you can't do that Stoick, I'm you daughter, you can't…"

He laughed bitterly, and the roar flooded Hiccup's ears. He'd see Stoick angry before, but he'd never thought he would actually hate one of them so much that he'd get rid of them. It unnerved him that Astrid had driven him so much off the hook, Astrid who had always been his golden girl, whom he'd loved unconditionally. Whom he'd spoilt rotten. Unfriendly ideas began to fill his brain; if Stoick could do that to her, what could he do to Hiccup, the disappointment, the runt, the one who always caused problems…

"I want you out by morning."

He said it with such a sure, precise calmness that it sent shivers running right down Hiccup's spine as he began to quietly, quietly make his way up the creaky stairs. Astrid pounded her fist just once on the table, and it made a sharp cracking noise, but no one seemed to notice. Hiccup stopped exactly still, pressed against the wall, and the moment froze. When it broke, it broke with five simple words that made a hand claw at Hiccup's heart and suffocate it.

"You are not my daughter."

The glass that had been holding the three of them together shattered. Astrid gulped, her eyes suddenly glazing over, and slunk from the room without any further protest. Neither Hiccup nor Stoick dared to move, and they only let out breath when the sound of the front door clicking shut broke through the night. Only then did his father follow Valhalla into the sitting room, and Hiccup sat on the stairs for a few minutes listening to their hushed voices to reassure himself like he had when he was little until Toothless padded noiselessly up to him and stuck his tongue in his ear. He batted the dog playfully on the nose before following him back up the stairs to his room, where he fell into a light and fitful sleep, his prosthetic still clipped on.

A musty light was shining through the half opened curtains and onto Jack's face, causing him blearily open his eyes. He blinked away the sleep from them and creakily sat up, yawning widely, trying to remember exactly why he was sleeping on the sofa in his room and not on his bed. Slowly the hazy early morning feeling left and he looked around them room. The clock winking at him said it was half six, and so he swung himself up, wobbling slightly as he properly woke himself up, and stretched himself out properly.

Beth was sleeping apparently peacefully on his bed, though her eyes were darting backwards and forwards at a dizzying pace under their lids. Her fringe had tangled slightly during the night, her normally straight hair curling at the ends. She would probably go insane when she woke up – her hair was her pride and joy – but Jack thought that his sister looked the most pretty when she was like this, completely careless. He gingerly reached out and shook her shoulder with great care, leaning down to quietly whisper in her ear.

"Beth. Beth, come on sweetie, it's half six, we need to get up now if we're going to be on time."

Beth groaned and turned over, pulling the blankets over her head. Jack stood back with his hands on his hips, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, the edges of his mouth tweaking upwards. He grabbed one of the larger, heavier cushions from the sofa and with an accuracy only years of practice had given him hit Beth's head with it at exactly the right angle to cause her to sit bolt upright, slinging a stream of profanities at the general population. Once she had calmed down she looked tiredly at Jack, who was digging around in his desk draws trying to find the notepad that he was sure he had left there.

"What time is it?"

She yawned, spinning her legs over the edge of the bed and wiggling her toes into the fluffy rug Jack always kept there. Jack turned around, raising the notepad triumphantly in the air, dropping it when Beth gave him a look.

"About half six, so you have about an hour and a half. If I were you I'd want to look at my hair."

She left the room, rolling her eyes at him, and Jack smiled slightly before starting to dig around in his draws for his favourite blue hoody.

Hiccup winced as he made his way down to the bus stop, his stump angrily protesting as his prosthetic chaffed against it. The storm from the previous night did appear to have blown over, but the air still felt damp, and the sky was overcast with steely grey clouds that made the morning very dark and gloomy. A faint drizzle was layering over the ground and Hiccup pulled his jacket a little tighter against the cold bite of the wintry breeze, cursing the British weather colourfully under his breath. A car careered past at a ridiculous speed, spraying him with icy cold water, and he trudged along solidly, slumping down on the bench when he finally reached the bus shelter and rubbing at his stump gingerly. A glance down at his watch told him he had about five minutes to kill before it arrived, so he plugged in his iPod and brooded over the events of that morning.

Everything had been very tense when Hiccup had come down to get his breakfast. Stoick had already left the house, which wasn't unusual, but it still felt a little ominous, and his mother was sat at the kitchen table, all hints as to what had been going on the previous night gone, reading and sipping at coffee. To any other person, this may have seen normal, but Hiccup knew better – the very tight, thin lips and the pressure she was putting on the mug were sure signs that she was extremely tense and angry. She hadn't acknowledged him, just staring blindly into the book without reading, and he in turn he hadn't acknowledged her, only muttering a good morning as he waited for the toast to burn – he liked it very crispy – before grabbing his bag and rushing out of the door.

There had been no sign of Astrid since she had crept back into the house at three in the morning to collect her bags, slamming the door on her way out and half waking Hiccup. He'd been so exhausted that he'd just slipped back into his dream filled sleep, but now it was morning he was annoyed that he hadn't woken fully – because then he could have removed the damn prosthetic and it wouldn't be so much of an irritation. He rubbed it again ruefully as the bus screeched to a halt, splashing everyone's shoes with a thin film of water, and then stood up, removing his headphones and reaching into his back pocket for his bus pass.

The bus was relatively empty, so he flashed his pass quickly at the driver before hobbling along and settling into a window seat towards the back of the bottom floor of the double decker. As it began to set off, the rain increased dramatically, from the light drizzle that defined English Septembers to an onslaught of water that rattled the windows and made it almost impossible to see out. Hiccup settled his head at an angle against the pain of glass, focussing on not falling asleep to the steady rhythm of the rain.

Jack stared around the room with a detached interest. He'd been sent there by the front office, who'd said he needed to give his form to the school nurse in person – well, it had been nearly five minutes and so far there had been no sight of her. He sighed and sat down on a blue one of the hard plastic chairs that were so knobbly it felt like they had goose bumps. The room was very small, with empty doorframes on either end. There were three more plastic chairs, two maroons and one a faded khaki green, scattered randomly around, and that was about it. The walls were brick, polka dotted with chewing gum that no one had bothered to scrape off, and there were several cork boards covered with cheap, brightly coloured sheets of paper and garish corrugated cardboard borders with posters about cleanliness and the body and smoking and a variety of other things that were designed to fill up space, rather than provide anything to read.

The room was rectangular. The doorways were each set on the short walls, and Jack was leant against on of the long walls. The one directly opposite him had a door with 'Medical' written on a small, peeling piece of tape, and a small opening, a bit like you'd get in ticket booths, that showed a desk littered with multicoloured pens, and a small phone with some sort of message typed out and taped on hastily. The edges of post-it notes were just visible, as if the nurse had stuck them to the frame of the not-window, and Jack was just wondering if he would be able to read what that message on the phone said when another figure clutching a piece of paper strode into the room, stared at the closed brown door and slumped into the khaki chair next to him.

Jack looked over at him, and it was only then that the other boy seemed to pull himself out of his reverie and smiled at him. He looked the sort of person that had just grown into their body; he was almost as tall as Jack, with longish brown hair sticking out wildly all over the place, a pair of black, loose fitting jeans and a tight green t-shirt with some obscure black symbol scrawled on it that looked strangely like a dragon. He had a brown, high collared coat draped over one arm, looking distinctly soggy, and several woven bracelets along with a leather strapped watch on his right wrist. It was this hand which he extended out to Jack, his face cracked into a broad grin which reached his eyes.

"Hey, I'm Hiccup."

Jack took his hand and shook it warmly, returning the smile.

"Jack. Is Hiccup your real name?"

Hiccup laughed.

"God no, it's Henry, but I've been called Hiccup by everyone since I was about two."

Jack nodded his head and raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"Fair enough."

Hiccup leant back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his arms over his torso and puffing out his cheeks before letting out a long, exasperated sigh.

"You here to give in your medical form then?"

He asked, leaning forward to rub at a spot just below his knee.

"Yep. You?"

"Unfortunately. And as usual, Hummingbird is late in, and we will be stuck here until the bell goes."

Jack raised his eyebrows and looked at Hiccup curiously.

"Hummingbird?"

"Yeah, Miss Hummingbird, the school nurse. Always late in, and a little bit ditsy. Constantly forgetting things and getting sidetracked."

Jack nodded, and silence dropped awkwardly over the two of them again. After a few minutes, Hiccup sat up and turned to him.

"So, you new then?"

"Yeah, we moved here a month or so ago. My dad thought it would be a good idea if I was in a new area to start Year 12. I take it you've been here for a while?"

Hiccup laughed.

"I've been in this damn town my whole life. And I'm in Year 12 too – in Mr North's tutor. You?"

Jack got yet another sheet of paper out of his overflowing bag, twisted it round awkwardly and tried to read the tiny print.

"Same. Room 72, right?"

"Yep."

Hiccup continued to rub at the same spot on his leg, before letting out an exasperated growl and rolling up his jean leg to reveal a prosthetic leg. He unclipped it and pulled it off with a sigh of relief, rubbing at the stump for a few seconds before noticing Jack staring at him. He smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, I just needed to get it off. I accidentally left it on last night and it's giving me hell this morning."

Jack laughed.

"Why did you leave it on?"

"Oh, my sister and my parents were fighting, and by the time I finally got to bed I was so tired that I was just out. With this thing…" He waved the leg up in the air. "Still on my bloody stump."

"I take it that's why you have to hand in this form then."

Hiccup nodded.

"Yep. Amputee. Sorry, you must think that's really weird."

Jack laughed and shook his head.

"Nope, I think it's cool. It's the quirks in us that make us interesting."

Hiccup's eyes narrowed curiously, and then broke into a smile.

"Most people just think it makes me a freak."

He shrugged apologetically. Jack batted it off with his hand.

"Nonsense. I bet you don't have to take five drugs every morning, one at lunch and then all six in the evening."

Hiccup's mouth fell open.

"That is a lot of…wow. How the hell did you manage that?"

Jack was just about to open his mouth to answer when a tall, thin woman decked out in tight multicoloured jeans and a green tank top wandered into the office, her brown hair pulled back into a braid woven with rainbow feathers, several folders balanced precariously in her arms, papers sticking out all over the place, her glasses dangling off of her nose. She nudged open the door in the opposite wall with her foot, and there was a small crash and a couple of choice words before the woman, presumably Miss Hummingbird, reappeared in the little not-window, straightening her glasses and then sinking into a seat.

"Hi Hiccup and…" She searched through a stack of papers on her desk before surfacing again. "Jack. I take it you have your forms for me."

Jack got up and handed his form to the nurse, who gave him a friendly smile which he returned. Hiccup hopped up behind him, his form in his mouth, still reattaching his leg. He finally finished, sliding Miss Hummingbird his form before standing up and wandering back to pick up the coat, which he had left on the chair. Just as he was leaving the room, he turned back to look at Jack, who had frozen where he was stood.

"You coming then?"

"Oh, sorry, yeah."

He hurried after the other boy, out into a corridor whose floor was a mismatch of plastic brown and grey tiles. Hiccup was still limping a bit, but it appeared that the short respite from his prosthetic had largely done the trick, and he seemed a lot more relaxed. He was an odd one, but Jack, never one to really judge on first impressions, thought he seemed pretty down to earth and straightforward. He also seemed friendly, and welcoming, which was a nice feeling when he hadn't really spoken to anyone his own age other than his sister and a couple of people in the hospital since he had his accident. As they were making their way outside – which Jack was still finding thrilling, feeling the weather on his face, even if he was getting really damp – Hiccup began to talk about the subjects he was taking at A level.

"So, I'm doing fine art, history, maths and engineering. You?"

"Well, I'm also doing history and maths…" Hiccup smiled enthusiastically. "But I'm taking English lit and French as well."

Hiccup nodded knowledgably as he typed in the door code to get into the sixth form centre.

"Sounds good. I was going to do French, but my accent is… well, it sounds a bit like a caterpillar, according to my previous teacher."

Jack laughed as they walked down a new, grey carpeted corridor with fresh white walls covered in posters advertising universities and various subjects such as psychology.

"How can an accent sound like a caterpillar? What does a caterpillar even sound like?"

"I'm not sure, but apparently when I speak French I resemble one. Needlessly to day, not helpful if I wanted to do it as an A level."

"No, I guess not."

They had reached Room 72. The door was made of a soft pale wood, with a long rectangular window - without metal wire reinforcement – and the number was made out of sleek, brushed steel that matched the handle. It looked luxurious compared to the nurse's office. Jack's reverie was broken as Hiccup yanked it open, entering the room. There were around twenty four seats, about half of them filled with people chattering to each other. Jack subconsciously slipped his hands up into his sleeves and bowed his head, following Hiccup to two seats at the back of the room which the two of them flopped into. No one paid them much attention as they continued their conversation, and after a while Jack began to talk more animatedly, rolling his sleeves up as more people came into the room, discussing French caterpillars and Spanish rabbits until the bell sounded and a large man of about thirty five with a huge, brown bushy beard came in.

Thanks for reading! Please review.

Lu xxx