If You Fall, I'll Catch You

A/N: THIS IS A FAN TRIBUTE FOR THE FORGOTTEN BOY BY THEONEWITHTHESCAR, IT IS NOT MINE.

Anyway, The Forgotten Boy is fantastic. You guys should all seriously go and check it out, especially if you like Hiccup/Stoick father/son. I wasn't sure if the author intended to do anything dealing with Hiccup's prosthetic in her AU, so I had to give it a shot. And while we're on the subject of the Forgotten Boy OH MY GOSH GO READ IT EVEN IF YOU DON'T LIKE HICCUP/STOICK FATHER/SON BECAUSE TOOTHLESS MY GOSH TOOTHLESS IS THIS TINY ADORABLE LITTLE KITTEN THIS LITTLE BALL OF BLACK FUR OH MY GOSH x3

Great. Just friggin' great.

I rubbed at my aching, burning stump of a leg, scowling down at the huge chunk of metal that the hospital was trying to make a part of me. They'd said as soon as I got home, I should be putting it on and trying it out and all that stuff.

Personally, I was perfectly happy with just half a leg.

…Well, okay, no, I wasn't, but I had learned the basics of walking with just one leg by now, and adding a prosthetic to the mix was probably not going to help matters. Even worse? My dad was urging me to try it now, too.

"Why?" I demanded, folding my arms over my chest. "So I can fall flat on my face with both feet again?"

"You'll never relearn to walk without trying it," Dad insisted, taking my hand and helping me to my feet – er, foot. "And if you fall, I'll catch you."

Yeah. Right. That line must sound pretty comforting, huh?

Well, it's not.

I've tripped and fallen – physically and emotionally – countless times since my mom died, and no one has ever caught me when I've fallen, or even cared enough to help me back up.

Don't misunderstand me. Don't do that. I really did love my father, and I wanted to believe he would catch me.

But too many days of loneliness, too many nights of crying myself to sleep was enough to, understandably, I hoped, make me more than a little skeptical.

I hadn't trusted anyone for a really long time…but…

I sighed, picked up the prosthetic, and began to fasten it on. It was kind of slow going, because we had no clue where anything went, but step-by-step YouTube videos and Google mostly helped us along the way.

"Okay, just take one step," Dad coaxed gently, giving my shoulders a gentle, reassuring pat that, for a moment, I thought was going to become a hug. I hated myself for the disappointment when I realized it wasn't.

I put my good leg first, leaned all my weight on that foot and swung my left leg awkwardly forward. The metal seemed to take a long time to find the carpeted floor. I hesitated. I could feel Dad's gaze on me, and I didn't want to be weak in front of him.

I put my left foot on the ground and leaned on it, realizing I was trembling slightly from the exertion.

The pain from that simple step was excruciating. It made me cry out, my arms splayed out in front of me, ready to catch myself.

But I didn't even hit the floor. Warm, strong arms encircled me before I could do that, pulling me up, righting me, setting me back down like I weighed nothing. But that wasn't what shocked me.

I looked up and saw my father standing in front of me and his eyes weren't hard and cold and unimpressed, but instead there was something in them, something undeniably warm and soft and affectionate. But even that, even the look in his eyes wasn't what surprised me so much.

It was the fact that he had caught me. I had fallen. I'd been catching myself, picking myself up for years. I could do it again, I could do it for the rest of my life. But I didn't have to in that moment, because my dad had done it for me, just like he said.