Stoick watched as the flames came up from the large Berserker galleons. He had been on a hunting trip with Hiccup and Toothless when the Berserkers had arrived. As such, they were forced to push them back to their ships. Hiccup had chased them out to sea and hadn't yet returned.

As Stoick continued to look into the starry sky about, he heard the tell-tale cry of a certain Night Fury, and he sighed in relief. However, his relief was short lived as Toothless crash landed onto the ground and the silhouette of Hiccup was thrown from the dragon, crashing back-first into a tree and letting out a cry of agony.

"Hiccup!" Stoick shouted as he ran over to the tree, completely ignoring Toothless, who'd come out of the crash as unscathed and ran towards his friend.

As Stoick walked over, lantern in hand, he saw the extent of the damage. The tree's bark was caked in a fine layer of blood, including several bloody handprints. At the base of the trunk was Hiccup, partially hunched over and breathing rough, uneven breaths. His fur vest was gone and his tunic was ripped in several places, each pulsing out blood, to an extent. His hands were clutching his left side, which was entirely red and an arrow protruded from his right shoulder. Looking closer, Stoick noticed the right arm was definitely broken in more places and the many burns all over Hiccup 's body. His left leg seemed fine but the right had large cuts and was far from any use in standing, let alone walking.

"Hiccup. Look at me," Stoick coaxed and Hiccup lifted his head, showing slightly singed, auburn bangs and the forest green eyes, filled with so much pain, "Hiccup, I need to move you. It'll hurt, but it needs to be done. Okay?"

Hiccup managed to nod and stifled a scream as his father lifted him off the ground. His right arm hung limply and swayed, causing a tremendous amount of pain on the journey back to the camp they'd set up, and once they reached there, Stoick wasted no time in tearing his Chief's cape apart. Now was no time for sentimentality. With a good chunk of the cloak ripped up, Stoick got to work, grabbing a chunk of the fur and jamming it against his sons left side. Hiccup's eyes squeezed shut and his left arm gripped the ground harshly. Stoick knew he had to move quickly. He grabbed another piece of his cape, this time, longer, and tied it tightly over the other piece, thereby, staunching the blood flow.

He continued wrapping the wounds until, only the right arm was unwrapped. He was quick on splinting the forearm, but took extreme caution in removing the arrow embedded in Hiccup's shoulder. Fortunately, Stoick was able to pull it clear out. He finished it, by wrapping the shoulder and using the last piece as a sling for the arm. With that done, he rested Hiccup against a rock and had Toothless relight the dying fire.

He grabbed one of the water pouches from his satchel and turned around, to give some of the water to his unconcious son. However, he looked over to Hiccup and saw that his son was still awake, despite his wounded, fatigued appearance.

"Hiccup. You're awake," Stoick walked over to Hiccup and sat beside him, "Do you feel any better?"

"A little," Hiccup's voice was rough and hoarse, "Is Toothless okay?"

At the mention of his name, Toothless bounded over to Hiccup, relieved he was awake. He nudged Hiccup's good arm and Hiccup hoarsely giggled, rubbing his best friend on the head. Stoick remembered the water pouch that was still in his hand and quickly offered some of the water, which he gingerly poured into his son's mouth, being careful to not give him too much at a time. After half a minute, Stoick lowered the pouch and resealed it.

Hiccup looked back up at his dad, who was now checking to make sure he wasn't coming down with any illnesses or fever, which was more common when one was injured severely.

"Thanks dad," Hiccup smiled weakly, "And sorry for getting hurt so easily. Still not Viking material, I guess."

Stoick couldn't believe his ears. Did Hiccup still feel as if he was a useless fishbone. If so, why would his son think that?

"Hiccup," Stoick placed his arms onto his son's shoulders, being careful with the right one, "Why do you still think you aren't Viking material."

Hiccup frowned as he spoke his mind, "Because, I'm a ... Hiccup. I don't walk like the others. I don't talk like the others. I'm not a Viking. I'm just the useless Hiccup everyone feels sorry for..."

"Now stop right there," Stoick said to his son, who was now starting to tear up, "You are not useless and yes, people do feel sorry for you, but they are also extremely proud of you. You were willing to sacrifice your life to save a village that had detested you, and you payed a price for it. But you brought along this era of peace and brought us all closer together. So please, promise me you'll never call yourself useless again."

By now, even Stoick had tears brimming in his eyes, "I want you to understand that I was wrong all these years. Not just about dragons, but Vikings as well. It's okay to have feelings and it's okay to feel pain, in more ways than one. These hardships are what makes us stronger. And, if there's one person stronger than the rest, it's you, Hiccup. You've suffered so many more hardships than any Viking ever has."

"What about Snotlout?" Hiccup questioned.

Stoick burst into laughter, "Please. Snolout is just full of himself. Even you have more real muscle than him."

Hiccup smiled at his father.

"So," Stoick cleared his throat and gestured to the arrow that was laying on the dirt a few feet away, "Who?"

"Dagur," Hiccup replied, rubbing his shattered shoulder as he did.

Stoick's face went red, "Well, did you kill him?"

"No, but I think you owe him a little something, after he kidnapped you," Hiccup reminded his father of their past predicament.

"Oh, don't you worry, I'm going to town on him," Stoick chuckled, "Well, it's time we rest. In your condition, I doubt continuing this hunting trip is wise or helpful."

Stoick dug through their supplies, finding two fur blankets. He draped one over Hiccup, who'd laid himself down on his back to avoid further injury to his shoulder or his wounded left side. Meanwhile, Stoick had rested his back against the rock and laid down upon it, removing his helmet as he did.

As Hiccup slowly dozed off, he smiled, knowing for sure that his bond with his father was stronger than ever.

Stoick awoke the next morning to the smell of sweet grass and the fragrance of smoke from the fire. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and replaced his helmet onto his head before looking around at the clearing and saw his son still asleep under the fur blanket. He'd usually be surprised that Hiccup was still asleep at this hour, but injuries can make people more tired than they usually are.

He scooped up Hiccup, being sure to keep the blanket wrapped around his son, and found Toothless, who was finishing a freshly caught haddock.

"Come on, Toothless," Stoick said quietly, so he wouldn't wake his son, "It's time to get Hiccup home."

Soon, Berk was in sight and not too long after, they had landed. Stoick lifted Hiccup off his resting place in the saddle and requested Fishlegs to get Gothi, as he'd been the only villager other than Astrid to see them land. Astrid helped to get Hiccup into the house and was relieved that he'd been awake after his wounds were wrapped.

For the next few hours they waited as Gothi replaced the torn cape with real gauze and made sure everything was healing well, and when she left they sat in silence by his bedside.

"Astrid," Stoick asked Astrid."

"Yes chief?" She replied.

"Would you mind keeping an eye on Hiccup, I need to do some chiefin'."

"I understand, sir,"

"Thank you, Astrid," Stoick glanced one more time upon his wounded son and smiled, knowing Hiccup would be okay and finally knew how proud a father he was.