Hiccup Haddock the III looked away from the setting sun, his eyes tearing up again. He wiped his sparkling eyes with the back of his hand, taking a glance out over the ledge again. The water beneath the docks splashed up as the waves started up again. The 20 year old sighed, shutting his eyes again. He had a headache again. Headaches were an often occurrence now, ever since-

Since dad.

Hiccup put a hand to his forehead, opening his eyes again. Berk had been fixed up- almost all the ice from the Bewilderbeast was gone, and it was almost Snoggletog again.

The first Snoggletog without dad.

Hiccup still couldn't accept it. He'd watched his dad's ship burn and sail away. In the nights, the fire still plagued him. Whispers told him things- how it was his fault, how he could have saved his father, how dad deserved to be where he stood, not him.

And Hiccup had finally accepted it.

The voices were right- his father deserved to be here. His father did, not him.

But nothing was going to bring his dad back.

Nothing.

Hiccup shook his head, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. He was the chief now- he needed to be strong.

A chief's first duty is to his people. Stoick's voice rang out in the young Viking's head.

"You were right dad..." Hiccup said, choking slightly. "You were always... always right."

Shutting his eyes again, Hiccup took a second to gather himself again before turning back towards his village. He needed to help still- there seemed to be billions of things the villagers needed the young chief to do.

No task is to small when it comes to serving your people. Stoick's voice said again, making Hiccup pause before opening his eyes.

But when Hiccup opened his eyes, he found something that made him pause.

A little further away from the docks was a ship.

Hiccup's eyes narrowed as he squinted, wishing he could see the ship better. It looked- familiar, almost.

Like it was...

Hiccup's green eyes widened with surprise as he made his way down towards the docks. The wood creaked under Hiccup's uneven feet and for once, the thought of having to fix the docks didn't cross the young chief's mind.

Stopping before the burnt and cracked ship, Hiccup took it all in. The mast had burnt holes in it, the wood scorched and rotted. On the deck was a giant mass, covered by a ripped piece of sail.

A sob caught in Hiccup's throat.

Dad. It was dad's ship.

Why would someone do this? Hiccup wondered as he slowly stepped onto the creaking deck. It groaned low and loud as Hiccup put his full weight on it. He didn't notice the sounds as he slowly stepped closer and closer towards the mass, his father.

Tears had finally broken loose- tears from the present and past. His heart hurt- it felt like someone was strangling him front the inside.

Why- but more importantly, how?

He'd watched his father's ship burn before turning away- how was it here? How was dad here?

Without knowing, Hiccup had gotten closer and closer towards the giant mass that was his father. His hand was inches away from the sail, just barely skimming the rough, burned piece that covered his father. Inside, he was debating- take it off? Or leave it on?

It would be more polite and respectful to leave it on. It was his father after all. He could take it off when he had all the other villagers. They could properly bury Stoick. The entire village could pay respects over his body, instead of just the empty wooden box that was buried under his fathers name.

Then again, what Viking would be polite and respectful?

Hiccup's hand closed around part of the sail and he took a moment, wiping away tears, which were immediately replaces. He took a breath before gently pulling the sail off his father's unmoving body.

A sob threatened to make its way out of the young chief's throat. His father was exactly the same- the braided, orangey-red beard. His pale skin, the furry tunic his father always seemed to wear under the armor...

Hiccup put a hand to his mouth and forced down the sob. "I'm... So sorry dad..." Hiccup stammered eventually. "I know that... That I already said this, but... Gods, I..." He looked away, his eyes spilling over, despite all his internal protest. "I... I'm sorry..."

The young chief tried to turn away, but his eyes were locked on the elder. His eyes were closed, and he wasn't breathing. He was most certainly dead.

Yet... One thing had always troubled Hiccup. If Dagur, his insane cousin, could get hit by the same Plasma Blast and not die, why should his father be dead? It didn't make sense to Hiccup. He didn't think it ever will.

It wasn't fair. Hiccup's hands curled into fists. It just wasn't fair!

Just as he was about to turn away, his eyes caught something. He paused. Surely he was hallucinating- because that couldn't have...

There it was again!

Hiccup turned back to face his father, getting closer to him again. Hiccup mentally prepared himself as he put a ear to his father's armor, listening for the thump thump thump of his father's heartbeat.

And he got nothing.

Nothing.

But then how-

Looking at his father again, his heart flew to his throat.

Was his father breathing? Or was his eyes just playing a trick on him? If they were, it wasn't a very nice one-

There it was again!

Hiccup's shaking fingers fumbling into place on Stoick's neck, trying to find out of there was a pulse. Because he was sure he's seen his father breath. 3 times now.

Softly, Hiccup withdrew his fingers, his breathing accelerating. He'd felt one- he'd felt a heartbeat. His father's heartbeat.

He turned towards the village. "ASTRID! MOM! SOMEONE!" He screamed. "GET DOWN HERE!"

The doors from the other houses started to slam shut. He heard the sound of many Viking's running down towards him. Hiccup turned back towards dad and- for the first time it a long time, he actually smiled.