WARNING: MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2. DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE FILM (or don't mind having it spoiled for you).
I haven't seen Hiccup all day.
It's not like he's avoiding me, or anything; he's just caught up, crazy busy, without free-time or anything of that sort at all. He hardly even sleeps at night.
I pretend I don't notice it, though, even though it hurts me probably just as much as it hurts him. He doesn't like people (especially and specifically me) worrying about him. When they do, he always brushes them off with a quick "I'm fine" when he clearly is not.
That's one of the things I have learned: he likes to play that card a lot. The, "I'm not alright but I can make you think I am" card.
He doesn't know I know, and I don't tell him. He's lying to me, and I know he is, though, every single time he tells me that "Nothing's wrong" or "I'll be alright" or "I'm okay." Anything else in that nature falls in the same category, thanks to recent events.
The death of Stoick Haddock. The death of Stoick the Vast, Oh Hear His Name and Tremble, Ugh Ugh (and I thought Hiccup had a long name). The death of our Chief has taken its toll on all of us.
None so much as Hiccup, though.
He was thrown into chieftain just a month ago, yet it already seems as though so much time has passed. From the very instant he became Chief until now, he's been non-stop active. I know he's sleep deprived, but like I said, he doesn't know I know, and I don't know how to tell him.
Even if I know how, I'm not so certain I would.
I can't imagine what it must be like for him, though; he was forced to live twenty years without a mother, and now he has to push forward without a father. To top that off, though, he's now Chief of Berk. Just twenty years old and Chief of one of the greatest islands this side of the archipelago.
Plus, the battle with Drago had been traumatizing for all of us, but I honestly couldn't imagine what effects it had on Hiccup.
If losing his father hadn't been enough, Drago had used Toothless to do it. So, Hiccup had watched his best friend kill his father. That would have to be nerve wracking for anyone.
Like I said, I can't imagine it.
I push the doors to the Great Hall open without hardly thinking about what it is I'm doing. Almost instantly, someone smashes into me - quite literally. As I pull away, I find myself face-to-face with Tuffnut. Ruffnut and Snotlout file in behind them.
"We were just coming to get you," Ruffnut says.
"Why?" I ask.
"Snotlout...he kind of...well…" Tuffnut pauses. "You tell her, Snotlout. It's your fault."
"Your fault what?" I ask. I'm getting angry now. "What, Snotlout?"
"I...well...we were...talking," Snotlout says, wringing his hands together. I cross my arms and tap my foot impatiently. If Snotlout is stuttering, then it must mean bad news.
"Well?" I say when Snotlout doesn't continue. "That doesn't tell me anything. Go on."
"Astrid," he says, "I promise you, if I had known Hiccup was there, I would have never brought up-"
I gasp, cutting Snotlout off whether I mean to do it or not. "You didn't," I stammer, taking a step backwards and shaking my head feverishly. "Please tell me you didn't."
"I didn't mean to do it, Astrid!" Snotlout says. "I thought...I thought y'know...enough time had passed…"
"SNOTLOUT!" I take him by the shoulders, and he flinches. "One month is NOT enough time!"
"He was going to apologize," Tuffnut explains hastily, "but Hiccup was long gone. He just...took off in another direction."
"Where did he and Toothless-" I begin, only to be interrupted by the answer.
"Toothless wasn't with him, and it looked like he was going back to his place," Snotlout says.
I feel a bit taken back (if not slightly worried) by the fact that Hiccup left Toothless behind, but that doesn't change how I turn and bolt. How could Snotlout be so careless? I've told him time, time and again NOT to bring up Stoick's death, and of course, that's exactly what he does.
How dare he? And bringing it up to Hiccup (whether he meant to or not) of all people.
I pause in front of the door, my hand balled into a fist as I lift it to knock. I hold my breath, and knock twice. No response. I try it again. Still nothing.
At this point, I push the door open and peer inside. The house is quiet and empty, by the looks of it, anyways.
"Hiccup?" I call. It's silent, but I know that doesn't mean anything. I glance about the main room one last time before deeming it vacant. I begin ascending the stairs, genuinely hating how the boards creak beneath my feet.
The door is closed.
"Hiccup, I know you're in there," I say.
"No I'm not," comes the response.
"Hiccup," I say, "don't be obvious."
"I'm busy. Go away."
"You know that's never going to happen."
Silence.
"Hiccup," I groan, trying to open the door, just to learn that it is locked. Hiccup had locked it, probably the minute he came up here. "Hiccup, open the door."
"You know that's never going to happen." I wince as Hiccup flips my own words right back at me. He doesn't sound angry, but then again, he's always been good at hiding his emotions. If he is angry, I won't know.
"Hiccup," I pause, trying to pick my next words carefully. "If you want me to go away I will, but we really need to talk. I want to help you." He doesn't respond. "Hiccup?" Silence.
Part of me thinks that it would be better to just leave. Hiccup will get through this on his own; he always does. However, some other part of me begs to differ. Does Hiccup really 'get through this' or does he just 'suck it up and move on'?
"Hiccup, if you're not going to open the door," I say, "then at least tell me whether or not you want me to slap Snotlout."
There's a beat. "Don't," Hiccup says. There's a waiver to his voice. "He wasn't thinking."
"Does he ever?" I try for a joke, but a lack of response from Hiccup tells me that it died. "Can we talk? You...never really answered my question."
After about a five second pause, I'm about to give up, when I hear the locks on the door being undone. I spin around again as Hiccup swings the door open. He's a few inches taller than me, but his sloppy posture makes his eyes level with mine. His auburn hair is even more bedraggled and messy than usual (if possible). His freckles stand out almost painfully against his skin.
"I guess we can talk," he says. Now that I can hear him clearly, I realize his voice has a rasp to it. It's obvious he had tried to wipe the tearstains off his cheeks before opening the door, but the evidence is still on his face.
I swallow. Anything I mentally planned to say vanishes as if it had never even existed. I'm at a loss of words, which is a big deal for me. I'm never at a loss of words.
Hiccup steps aside, and I'm broken from my thoughts as I walk forward, albeit a bit hesitant. I've been in Hiccup's loft a thousand times, yet it suddenly seems...different.
"You wanted to talk?" Hiccup asks.
"Uh...yeah." I turn around to face him. I feel immensely stupid when I can't find out how to start a conversation with him. "How are you?" I settle for.
"Um...I've been better," Hiccup says. He's not lying, but he definitely isn't telling me everything."You?" he asks.
"Same," I respond. Come on, Astrid, I think to myself. Say something smart. "How's being chief going?" I ask him, just because I don't know what else to say. We haven't spoken much since the battle.
"It keeps me on my feet...foot...whichever," Hiccup says. "You didn't get too mad at Snotlout, did you?"
I was previously hoping Hiccup wouldn't bring it up, but I don't let it show. "No, I didn't," I say. Hiccup nods. "Can I ask why you're wondering?" I ask another moment later.
"Just...it's not his fault," Hiccup says. "He doesn't mean to be a jerk."
"He doesn't mean to not be one, either," I come back.
"What are you really doing here, Astrid?" Hiccup asks. "You didn't come here for small talk. Do you need something?"
"Not necessarily," I admit. "I'm just making sure you're okay."
"Yeah, I'm okay," Hiccup says.
"You know that's not true," I say. "And...so do I. You have to be honest with me, Hiccup."
He turns away, and I see the all-too familiar sight of tears welling in his eyes. He's never one to openly display his feelings, but he's more comfortable around me than anyone.
"It's my fault," he whispers in a tone so quietly that I can barely make out what he's saying.
"What?" I ask, just to make sure I heard him right.
"It's my fault," he repeats. "It's my fault he died."
I know who Hiccup's talking about without asking for confirmation.
"It's not your fault," I say lamely, because really, what else am I supposed to say? I can't ignore him, and I'm certainly not going to agree with him, either.
"Yes it is!" Hiccup argues. "I was being an idiot! I shouldn't have gone after Drago when he told me not to! He told me specifically not to, Astrid, and I knew it, but I didn't listen."
I remain silent, but my mind is racing. As much as I hate to admit it, and how selfish it is, I am secretly glad Stoick had jumped in to save Hiccup. I'm mourning over his death just as everyone is, but I can't imagine what would have happened if it were Hiccup who had been shot.
I've imagined it once, and since then, I haven't been able to get the image out of my head; Hiccup lying lifeless on the battlefield, Toothless getting knocked out of his trance and realizing what he had done…
"I shouldn't have run off when he tried to talk to me!" Hiccup says, breaking me out of my horrible thoughts. "I should have taken up the role of Chief the minute he asked me to, but instead I ran, and now...now...it's my fault, Astrid! All my stupid fault!"
"It's not your fault." I feel dumb for saying the same thing twice in a row, but I'm speechless otherwise.
"Yes it is!"
"No it's not! If it's anyone's fault, it's mine!" I blurt, almost without thinking about what I'm saying.
Hiccup takes a step back. "How is it your fault!?" he shouts. It's more of a statement than a question.
"Your father told me to take Snotlout, Fishlegs and the twins back to Berk," I said, "but I didn't listen to him. Instead, I went after Drago, got us all captured, blabbed big time about Berk and how we rode dragons...that's what made him want to march on Berk in the first place."
"And why were you guys even supposed to go back to Berk in the 'first place'!?" Hiccup runs his hands through his hair; a nervous habit he developed when he was young. "So my Dad and Gobber could find me, that's why! It all points back to me, Astrid! It's not your fault!"
"Then it can't be your fault!" I say.
"THEN WHY IS IT!?"
We're yelling at each other now. After Hiccup's recent statement, though, I'm rendered speechless. Completely and entirely speechless. I couldn't have said anything even if I tried.
He's a patient person; he never loses his temper. Not that I've seen him, anyway. He's the last person I would ever expect to yell or raise his voice. It's not that I'm shocked, though, because in truth, I'm the exact opposite.
"I didn't ask for this, Astrid!" Hiccup says when I don't respond. "I didn't ask to become Chief! I didn't ask for any of this! I thought...I thought I knew who I was, Astrid, but now...I don't know who I am anymore! People call me a hero, Astrid, but I'm NOT. I'm not a hero! I'm not...I'm not even the peacemaker I thought I was. I'm not…"
His eyes meet mine. His beautiful, dark, piercing emerald green eyes, filled with so much pain and sorrow. Whatever emotions he bottles up and keeps hidden behind half-hearted smiles and sarcastic remarks are always betrayed by his oh so expressive eyes.
"I should have listened!" he shouts. "I could have! I…I shouldn't have tried to go after Drago! I should have stayed behind! I should have heeded my father's words, but nooooo. No, I had to be the hero. I had to be the one to save Berk. I was blinded, Astrid! I was blinded by my own stupidity, and look what happened! My father is dead because of me!"
I stare at him, unsure of what to say.
"Why…" Hiccup's voice cracks. He's crying freely now. "Why hadn't I been hit by that blast, Astrid? Why...why d-did it have to...to be...him. He didn't deserve it. But...but maybe..."
"Don't finish that thought," I say, shaking my head. I try to make my voice demanding, but instead, it sounds like a desperate plea. "I know what you're going through, Hiccup, and it's okay-"
"NO IT'S NOT!" Hiccup explodes. "IT'S NOT OKAY! I'm sick and tired of living my life pretending it is! I'm tired of just trying to...to...be someone I'm not! It's not okay, Astrid! It'll never be okay again! You don't know how I feel, so don't you dare try to tell me that you do!"
As much as I wish to deny it, he's right. I don't know how he feels. I don't know what he's going through.
"You don't understand!" he says. "I know everyone on Berk lost their Chief, Astrid! I know everyone is in mourning right now, but Chiefs can be replaced! I'm...a sorry excuse for a replacement, I know, but STILL! No one can replace what I lost! Yeah, sure, you lost your Chief!" He freezes, as if the realization had just suddenly hit him over the head.
"I...I-I lost...I lost my...my…"
He can't even finish his sentence, and he doesn't need to for me to know what he means. He stumbles backwards, going to sit on his bed, yet missing it altogether, which leaves him to crash to the wooden floorboards. He doesn't seem to notice, though, because he buries his head in his hands and sobs.
I'm frozen for a moment. I'm not known for caring or comforting, but Hiccup is different. I know him quite possibly better than he knows himself, and the same can be said about him knowing me. Watching him just so blatantly break down in front of me makes me feel as if my heart had been snapped in two. I kneel down in front of him and bring him into a tight embrace. At first, he stiffens, just to relax an instant later and hug me back.
"It's okay, Hiccup," I say.
He shakes his head, but says nothing. He sobs uncontrollably into my shoulder, and I squeeze him tighter in silent reassurance. We sit in that position for nearly twenty minutes. I know by the position of my leg that I'm going to get pins and needles in it the minute I stand up, but I can hardly care about that.
At length, Hiccup stops crying and pulls away. "I'm not okay," he whispers.
"I know," I say.
"I want him back," he says.
"I know," I say.
"It hurts."
"I know."
"I'm…" He wipes his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I'm so sorry I yelled, Astrid. I didn't mean...I didn't..."
"I'm sorry too," I cut him off quietly.
"You didn't do anything, and I shouldn't...I shouldn't have taken it out on you," he says.
"I shouldn't have yelled at you, either," I say.
"Yeah, but I started it." His eyes meet mine once again, as he gets to his feet and pulls me into a stand in front him. "We should have had that conversation a long time ago."
I nod. "So let's not do it again," I say. "You know, you can always talk to me, Hiccup. It's not like I'll laugh at you for crying, or anything."
"I know you won't," Hiccup says. He tries for a smile, and I smile back. "Thank you, Astrid."
I shrug. "Hey," I say, "that's what I'm here for."
Author's Notes:
Friendly reminder that Hiccup only has one day when he came remember having a real family. Friendly reminder that Hiccup lost his father that same day. Friendly reminder that Hiccup will always be from a one-parent household. Friendly reminder that Stoick will never see his son become Chief. Friendly reminder that Stoick will never get to see his grandchildren. Friendly reminder that all of this is (indirectly or directly), Toothless' fault.
You say: Beyond, these were…really not friendly reminders.
Well, I AM NOT FRIENDLY. Ha, ha, yeah, I'm just joking. Sorta…kinda…more or less…
You have NO IDEA how hard it was for me to write this one-shot. I mean, seriously, it was really hard writing about one character just breaking down in front of another one. I know I wrote "I'm Sorry For Everything" back in December (I think…?) but that's a little less...angsty, for lack of better word. It was a lot shorter, really, too. It's not the same as this one, that's for certain.
I normally don't write angst, so I hope I did a good job of capturing a character who suffered a loss. I hope I didn't make anyone act out of character, either. I don't like doing that. :)
Until next story! :)
-BeyondTheClouds777
