i edited this a shitton, just so you know. added detail as well as a different ending, yay.

disclaimer; don't own shit yo

rated m for future chapters as well as cursing.

The onslaught of snow threatened to take over the land of Berk; covering it with a fierce blanket of white. Snowflakes drifted leisurely from the clouded skies, landing on the noses of the stubborn, cruel and vicious Vikings that were more than used to feet of snow. The wind blew hastily through the village, gathering dirt and dust and things of the like before spewing it back out at unwilling victims.

And two of those unwilling victims happened to be Hiccup Haddock and Jack Gunnarson.

The wind seemed to pick up, sending a frail, lanky young brunette tumbling into the snow beside him with a soft thud. There was a moment of silence, and then a soft call ("Hiccup?"), followed by a burst of unnecessary laughter. "The wind. The wind is out to get me," Hiccup muttered, his whole body beginning to shake lightly and his teeth chattering.

He pushed himself to his feet, hazel eyes blinking with amusement. His hand ran through his chestnut hair as he shook his head, suddenly cold. He looked up at the other boy, Jack, and attempted to frown but was thoroughly unable to keep a smile off his face.

"Oh, come on, the wind isn't out to get you. It may seem like that though 'cause you're so small," the other brunette grinned widely, a teasing tone to his voice. Unlike Hiccup, Jack was fit; an inch or so shorter than six foot, sure, but fit. His arms were wrapped in wiry muscle from training and things of the like, and his stomach was flat, his abdominals outlined yet not fully visible yet. Overall he had a lean body, one girls swooned over and yet it was fit for any battle. And then there was Hiccup, a bit shorter than Jack with thin arms and legs and a very flat stomach. His body was only covered in a small layer of muscle, if even that, from working in the stalls with Gobber ever since he was little. Well, littler.

Hiccup crossed his arms with a slight hmph noise, furrowing his brows together. He rubbed his biceps in a half-assed attempt to warm himself up. "It's cold," he complained, his face scrunched up in what looked like dislike as he turned to look at the snow he had fallen into.

Jack tilted his head, brown hair covering his eyes as a cocky smirk seemed to permanently plaster itself across his face. "Nah, it's not cold," the brown-eyed eighteen year old stated with a roll of his eyes. "It's nice out." His hand lifted, finger extending to gingerly tap the other brunette's nose. Noticing the slight pout on Hiccup's delicate features, he crossed his arms. "Fine, if you want," he began, shaking his head and allowing himself to exhale deeply in mock-sadness. "I can take you home where you can stay inside all day, doing nothing. Sounds a bit boring, though, eh?" He asked, gesturing towards the path they had just walked.

"No!" Hiccup said a bit too suddenly, before clearing his throat. His eyes flitted wildly around the terrain, fumbling for words. He had yet to notice Jack traipsing around him in the opposite direction. "I mean, no. The cold is fine. Oh, uh, where are you-"

A sudden burst of white hit him, sending him reeling back a few feet. There was a laugh, a sound that rang almost beautifully in Hiccup's ears, but he paid no mind. A hand lifted to swipe the snow from his face, revealing an expression stuck between anger and amusement.

"Aw, loosen up, Hic!" Jack called, cradling a snowball in his hand. His arm was up, frozen in mid-throw, as if testing the younger boy's limits and debating on whether to throw it or not. Earning a scowl from the chestnut haired teen, he pouted, dropping the snowball with a thunk. "Just... come on. I want to show you something really cool."

Hiccup idly followed, wary of the other boy's mischievous behavior. Their feet left paths in the snow; Jack's being real footprints while Hiccup's were simply lines because he rarely picked up his feet. "You better not be planning a murder." He mumbled, nose scrunching up to show he was not a fan of the idea.

The sentence was immediately followed by a deep laugh, causing Hiccup to breathe a deep sigh.

"We're here!" Pushing aside some branches, Jack smiled brightly, sweeping his arm out and revealing to Hiccup the beauty of the frozen lake.

Hiccup had, to put it truthfully, never seen such beauty(aside from Jack, but it's not like he'd ever admit that).

The sun, though the light was muffled by clouds, seemed to reflect off the surface of the frozen lake. He had a feeling it was thin; he could see the coursing water beneath it, lapping at the ice for means of escape. The trees surrounding the lake were burdened with snow; the branches sagging, unable to hold the weight. It was frankly beautiful; Hiccup idly wondered why he had never visited the lake during the winter.

"Woah," Hiccup breathed out, head tilted ever so slightly. "It's... beautiful." Awestruck, Hiccup's eyes flickered back to meet Jack. He opened his mouth to say something else, however he was shocked into silence by what he saw. Jack was getting on the ice! Did he not know how thin it must be?

"Don't give me that look, Hiccup. This is fun!" Jack shouted, grinning widely as he slid onto the ice. He almost fell smack into it, but managed to catch himself with a squeak. "Come on, you'll love it!"

The shocked boy gulped but, seeing as there wasn't anything better to do(stupid, stupid, stupid), he stepped onto the ice. There was an odd sound of sorts(a creak, soft but audible, and then there was a low crackling, the noise getting louder and louder and- oh gods he's going to fall in)

Warm hands grasped his lanky biceps, the gesture calming Hiccup only slightly as he fought to open his eyes. When he did, Jack was standing in front of him, a reassuring smile on his chiseled face(how did he get so close?) and Hiccup couldn't help but smile back, even if every fiber of his being told him this was not okay. (he almost died, of course this was not okay but Jack looked so calm and happy and even though there was a trace of worry in his eyes, Hiccup couldn't help but want to continue(he hated seeing disappointment in those brown eyes and he knew that if he told him he didn't want to do this anymore, that's exactly what he'd see))

"You're okay, Hic, I got you. The ice is thick around the outside, I can feel it. Just don't go to the center of the lake; that's where it's extremely thin," he said, patting the boy's arm. "You're doing fine."

(Lie; he is not doing fine because he's panicking and even though it's cold his palms were suddenly wet with sweat)

Hiccup nodded, and with each word, he felt courage brewing in his stomach. Or was that just puke? Was he sick? Oh gods, please don't let me throw up on Jack... "Okay," he began, smiling, "I got this. Yeah, it's not so bad." He took a large step, smiling to himself when the ice made no noise. He exhaled deeply, lifting his other foot for another step and then placing it firmly on the ice; continuing the cycle, up until he was just out of reach.

Then the ice cracked.

The crack started from Hiccup's feet, striking forwards until it was half way between the two boys. With a small gasp, Hiccup's eyes met Jack's in a moment of calm panic(it was only calm because he had a feeling if he panicked or made a noise he'd fall in and he'd be done for(if the ice was a bit thicker he would have been yelling at the top of his lungs))

"Hiccup, please, don't move," Jack said quietly, eyes now trained on the ice. He was watching the crack warily, torn between options. Should he go get help? Should he try to save him?

"Jack, what's happening?" Hiccup asked finally, gulping, eyes wide. He could hear the ice crunching, threatening to break, and it only served to worry him more. "I'm scared-"

There was movement; a blur of brown hair, brown eyes and pale skin. Hiccup flinched, though altogether tried to stay still, even when he felt hands grasp his sides. He opened his eyes(not realizing he had squeezed them shut) to meet Jack's brown ones. He was standing in front of him, their noses almost touching, and only briefly Hiccup wondered how he had moved over to him without breaking the ice. And how did he do it so fast? Only seconds had gone by. He opened his mouth to speak but, like always, he was cut off.

"Hi," Jack said and, just as the ice shattered beneath their feet, placed his hands on Hiccup's chest and shoved hard, sending the boy reeling into the snow behind them. There was only a strangled gasp of protest from Hiccup, before the ice opened and the water seemed to pull and grasp at Jack; as if made out of tiny hands. He was dragged beneath the surface, met with the sheer intensity of the freezing cold water. He gasped for breath but only got water(it's filling his lungs but they're already filled with water are they going to explode? it's so cold and dark where's Hiccup?)

"Jack!" Hiccup screamed, reaching out and grasping at the air, unable to do anything but watch(so useless his best friend is dead why was he so stupid?)

Jack reached for the surface, hands opening and closing, but he only got water. It was invading his senses; all he knew was cold and wet. He held his breath until he couldn't anymore; and then he had to open his mouth again, inhaling the water. Eventually he found himself freezing, his body numb, unable to move much besides the small twitch of fingers and toes. Then, finally, even that faded away, leaving nothing but a lifeless body.

"Jack," Hiccup whispered, before collapsing back in the snow, facing the muffled sunlight and completely uncaring if he got frostbite. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, but nothing more; he didn't know what to do. What to think. He was shocked, stunned into complete and utter silence. His hands grasped the snow until he couldn't stand the cold anymore, and he screamed. Screamed at the Gods, at the lake, at the sun and the moon that wasn't even there, at his father, his dead mother, at the snow and the fatal, freezing water. And then, finally, he screamed at himself. He was useless and stupid and he had unintentionally killed his best friend because he was useless and stupid. Everyone he knew had been right. Why was he even here?

After all the screaming, when Hiccup could only croak, he drifted off into a restless sleep. He didn't care if he died in the snow. Toothless could live without him. His father probably wouldn't notice he was gone. What did he care? No one would mourn him. He's just a clumsy, weak, talking fish bone that messed everything up.

However, even after he told himself he wished sleep would forever claim him, he awoke the next morning. His eyes fluttered open, his body wrapped in at least three fur blankets as he looked around warily. He was in his home. He was alive.

And Jack wasn't.

He was to blame. It was absolutely horrid trying to explain to the villagers what happened. They didn't show it, but Hiccup knew they were disappointed in the fact Hiccup had made it and Jack had not. But in the time that followed his death, no more tears had been shed. What was the point? Crying wouldn't bring him back. Nothing would. He just had to... keep his head high. Move on. Even if it felt like there was a snowstorm in his stomach. He was always cold. Never, even when around Astrid and Toothless, did he feel as great as he had with Jack. He was cold on the inside, even when his skin was hot to the touch or it was the middle of summer.

After Jack's death, Hiccup's life went downhill. He didn't do anything, aside from sleep and take care of Toothless. He hadn't spoken to Astrid or any of the other teenagers in months- or was it years? He wasn't sure how long it had been. All he knew was guilt, guilt, guilt.

But even after he had unwillingly accepted the fact it wasn't his fault, it hurt. There were days that living without his best friend physical hurt him. On most days there was a small ache, one he could try to ignore by bringing in the presence of his dragon. But other days were different; he would try to get up out of bed and end up hitting the floor with a loud thud, landing on his hands and knees. He would grasp his chest, curl his fingers around the fabric of his shirt, and realize he couldn't breathe; didn't want to breathe. Every breath he took reminded him that he is alive and Jack is not. Gasping for air, he would dig his fingers into his skin and press his hand against the spot Jack had pushed on two years ago. The shove had left pretty bruises, but Hiccup didn't care; he liked them, actually. The bruises kept him grounded, in an odd way. But then they disappeared, along with his friends and family because he distanced himself. He didn't like to talk much, but that was a good thing. No one tried to strike up conversations with him; and if they did, he'd tell them he had something to do or he'd wave them off. They would leave him be, knowing the simplest of things might break him.

And he liked it that way. But then things took a turn for the worst.

One day, two years after the accident exactly, Hiccup's father decided he needed some closure. He had tried to get his son to visit the lake; reminisce in order to forget and move on. But Hiccup always refused or came up with an excuse; "Gobber... he.. needs me at the stalls,"(lie; no one needed him) and "I don't feel good. Coming down with a, uh, cold," being the popular ones.

To Hiccup, lying was a daily routine. Almost everything he said was a lie, and today was no different.

"I've already been to the lake. I've moved on," Hiccup sighed, eyes on the floor, unable to meet Stoick's gaze. His father was intimidating and sometimes he scared Hiccup; but at least he somewhat cared. (somewhat being the key word.)

"You haven't left the house in, what, months? Do not lie to me, son," he warned, pointing at him. "It will be hard but you will go to the lake and get some closure." Before Hiccup could protest once more, his father turned him, opened the door, and pushed him out rather roughly. Without another word the door slammed on Hiccup's face, leaving him standing there, dumbfounded.

He nodded to himself, releasing a deep sigh, before turning on his heel. He made his way to the path that led to the lake, hands clenched at his sides.

"Woah, look who finally decided to come out of hiding." He heard someone say from behind him, probably Snotlout, but he kept walking, telling himself he didn't care what he said, or what any of his so-called friends said.

He, apparently, needed closure. And that was what he was going to get.

Hopefully.