I really wanted to do an Autistic Hiccup Au because we're learning about it in health and watching a movie about autism and wow okay I feel like I did okay. I used what I know about it and what we saw in the movie to portray Hiccup. I just wanted him to be a bit of genius of sorts but he acted differently and he knows he does. I included Jay.

This is a quick draft. Consider this a sneak preview, if anybody likes this and wants me to continue, I would actually love to elaborate a little more, I'd totally do it. I just want to see how you react to this, first.

Hayton balled himself up in his dorm, shaking. He didn't like this. Everybody looked at him weird. And he didn't want to do this, he wanted to paint and create machines. He wanted to invent. He wanted to draw. He didn't like this. He glanced up from where he was balled up, looking out the window. It was still early, classes don't start today. They start tomorrow.

Mom said he'd get a roommate, just like everybody else but he wasn't sure of it. He wasn't sure about it. What if they didn't like him? He didn't think they would. When you're different, people don't understand.

Slowly, Hayton looked up at the empty wall over one of the beds. His mind flashed to his bedroom, the wall matching to the picture in his mind. A portrait, a drawing. Colors, he could use colors. Colors were nice, colors were meaningful, colors were everywhere. This wall was bright white. It would look nice with green and purple. Did he have his green and purple pencils? He did.

Shaky hands roughly pulled his bag of art stuff over, opening it and unzipping one compartment. If things weren't in order, he would have a breakdown. He needed everything to be black and white, in front of him. Purple and Green, his favorite pair of contrasting colors. He liked purple and green. They were calming. So he took the box of purple and green pencils, going over to the bed, crawling on and standing on the bed, opening the box of pencils.

His hands traced over the pencils before picking one and starting to trace lines on the wall. He switched between shades of purple, green and even added some blue. He drew a girl, decked in jewlery, her dress taking up the size of the bed. His hands smeared some lines, his pencils moved in strokes across the wall as he focused. His pupils had dilated as he focused in, kind of like a dragon sneaking in on its pray.

Hayton, of course, heard the door open, dropping the pencil from his hand. "Who are you?" he snapped, quickly, nervously, standing up on the floor, and off the bed.

"Uhh I'm Jay, Jay Parker," the other boy introduced, before looking over the boys shoulder, eyes widening at the picture behind him. "Did you draw that? Like right now?" He asked, brushing past him, making Hayton jump back.

"Don't touch me," he informed. "I don't like to be touched."

"Sorry…" Jay said, a bit estranged. "Did you draw this?" he repeated and he watched as Hayton nodded slowly. "Its amazing… what are you doing majoring in physics and science?"

"I like to build. I-I invent things," he stammered, wringing his hands.

"You're not good with people, are you?"

"People are strange and loud and… I don't like people," he concluded, his voice shaky as he went to his bed to place the pencils neatly back into the box. Jay glanced at the desk, a paper on the desk. 'if you have a roommate, and I'm sure you will let them read this.' And inside, all it said was 'Hayton is autistic but just because he is different, does not mean he isn't wonderful. Give him a chance.' Jay smiled a bit, looking at the other boy, feverishly trying to organize the colors into their boxes.

"Finish it… the picture. I like it."

"I… I don't like people watching me draw."

"I'm Jay."

"You told me," he said. "I'm not stupid," he snipped, seeing the letter in his hands.

"I know.. I just didn't think you were listening. What's your name?"

"Its on the paper."

"I want you to tell me."

"Hayton," he said, memorizing Jay's face, closing his eyes and letting the memory of it come in pictures. Hayton thought in pictures, he only looked at things once and he remembered them, he knew them. It was wonderful but sometimes he wondered… how do other people think if not in pictures like himself? Why can't they do that? Hayton opened his eyes and looked at the other boy, putting his bag down.

"Can we be friends, Hayton?" Jay asked, not wanting to be rude. In reality, Jay wanted to work with children, and he knew Hayton wasn't a child but he requested this room because he wanted to get to know somebody different. When you're different, you are special. Or to Jay you were. He wanted somebody like Hayton because he had faith that somebody like him would be a good friend, unlike any other's he'd had. He wanted to be friends with somebody just a little different and he wanted to help. Hayton must be lonely, but he didn't mind.

"I don't know if I like you yet," Hayton replied, glaring at the disorder the other boy presented. "I don't think I like you, you're like the other boys. Very messy."

"I'm not normally like that, its just because I haven't settled down yet."

"Good. I don't like messes."

"Neither do I." Jay looked back at the picture. "Will you finish it later?"

"If you don't stop asking about it, I won't finish it," he retorted. Jay unzipped his bag, Hayton shutting his eyes tight. He didn't like that sound, that sound hurt his ears. It was like a loud squeaking. Jay noticed this and blinked a bit. This might be a bit harder than he thought… he knew Hayton was said to be quiet and a bit different, but he didn't think people were avoiding bunking with him because he was autistic. He just wanted to give the kid a friend, but perhaps it can't be that bad.

"I won't ask about it again."

"Thank you."

"I like you."

"really?"

"Really. Do most people not?"

"They think I'm crazy… or weird. I'm not like the others."

"You're like everybody else, if anything, even better. Nobody I know can draw like that."

"When your different, people don't care how good you draw or how great you create things," Hayton said, shrugging insecurely. His speech was a bit slurred and he had a delusion to his eyes, like he was just taking everything in. "People don't care because I'm not like you."