Gobber was mad.

That was an understatement. His large fist embedded itself in the wall of the back room as he pounded into it again and again and again.

Hiccup winced each time that large fist hit the already unsteady wall and put the small shack which was the forge even more on the verge of collapse.

He finally pulled his fist away from the wall that now sported a large hole for the last time and turned back to Hiccup with fire in his eyes.

"He told me he would never do it again," He growled as he started to pace, "He promised me he wouldn't"

His remaining fist was clenched and his lips were pulled back in a snarl.

"It was an accident" Hiccup spoke, just above a whisper.

"I don't care" Gobber almost roared, "It never had to happen, even before, he lets his anger take a hold of him and he hurts you and it's not right"

"I- it was my fault" Hiccup said once again in a barely audible whisper.

Gobber's head snapped over to him, "What did you say?" he demanded.

"I-I spilled his ale and I ruined his notebook, it was my fault"

"Hiccup" Gobber started, "Hurting you is not worth a notebook or any notebook, he shouldn't hit you no matter what" Gobber said with finality.

Hiccup wanted to argue but he knew Gobber wouldn't listen. The man was seething.

Hiccup frowned. He didn't mean to do this. It was his fault Gobber was mad. It was his fault for ruining his father's notebook.

Gobber sighed when he noticed the distressed look on the teen's face. One of Hiccup's downsides was his inferiority.

"Hey" Gobber walked over to the teen and placed his large hand over Hiccup's cheek, practically engulfing half the dragon-rider's face.

"Don't worry about it, I'll talk to Stoick and we'll settle this, okay? why don't you go look for Snotlout or Astrid"

"But shouldn't I-"

"Take the day off Hiccup, I'll give you extra work tomorrow" Gobber smiled knowing Hiccup didn't want to slack off on his work.

Hiccup sighed, "Okay" He relented, wrapping his arms around Gobber's thick neck, "Thanks Gobber"

"You're welcome son"

Gobber loved calling the boy that because on many levels he felt that the boy was very much like a son to him, he cared for him like he would his very own.

It hurt to see the boy hurt. Before the battle at the nest, before Hiccup was accepted as part of the village we were all used to seeing him hurt, to seeing him walk with a limp, or to have a face full of bruises.

He always came to the forge after Stoick's beatings. He would cry into Gobber's chest and go on and on about how it was his fault, how he deserved it for not being strong enough or skilled enough.

Gobber would tend to his wounds and rub his back until the boy fell into a fitful sleep and Gobber would stew about how unfair the world was to the poor boy.

He pulled the boy away and smiled down at him. He rubbed his thumb over the deep purple bruise on Hiccup's cheek and pushed his auburn hair out of his large emerald eyes.

The boy was fragile and small and the farthest thing from a fighter and Gobber knew Stoick just couldn't accept it.

Hiccup sat beside Snotlout on the rocky shore of the river as the other boy scowled at him, or more specifically the bruise that consumed the majority of his cheek.

The older teen no longer felt resentment towards his cousin but now a fierce protectiveness and Snotlout had no doubt about who had given the boy the bruise.

"It was Stoick wasn't it?" He snarled.

Hiccup's eyes flickered down as though he suddenly found the hard and muddy ground far more interesting. It was all the answer Snotlout needed.

"It's not a big deal Lout, please just let it go," he said softly.

"Not a big deal!?" Snotlout growled, grabbing Hiccup's chin and forcing him to look at him, "THE HELL IT"S NOT!"

For a moment the emerald-eyed boy was shocked, than his bottom lip started to quiver and his eyes started to water. Snotlout immediately wanted to kick himself.

He was never good at being soft or caring like Hiccup and he wasn't good at the whole considerate thing either.

Tears were streaming down Hiccup's small and bruised face. Snotlout sighed and pulled the boy into a hug.

Hiccup wrapped his arms around him and buried his head into Snotlout's fur vest, his shoulders shaking with his sobs.

The boy was far too emotional. At first he had seen it as a weakness like every one else but now he finally understood why. No one ever cared for him besides Gobber.

Snotlout didn't see it at first but none of them cared that the poor boy was hurting, that he was always bruised and bleeding, none of them gave him the time of day. All they ever did was berate him and yell at him and make him feel useless. Which was the name Snotlout vowed to never call him again.

Snotlout clutched Hiccup's fur vest as the small boy's tears stained his own. He would never let that happen again, Hiccup was his family and the fishbone didn't deserve an ounce of the abuse he had gotten.

He wanted to make Stoick pay, he wanted to show him what he had done, what they had all done.

After many reassurances to Snotlout that he was going to be okay Hiccup finally made it home. The sun was just setting and he wanted to take the time to watch the gold and pink stretch across the sky.

After sitting on his door step and watching the sun and all it's light disappear shrouded by indigo's, purples and blues and finally dropping into a starry night sky.

He sighed. His sunsets always ended, his peace, just these small moments when he thinks things aren't that bad till he opens the door and a fist is pounding against his jaw and a feet cracking into his ribs, telling him how impossibly worthless he is, what a failure and disappoint he's always been.

He knew things weren't like that anymore and that his father always has and always will love him. Sometimes it's just hard to love the thing that causes you pain even when it's always right.

Taking in a large breath Hiccup stood and opened the door slowly, praying for no creak.

Of course because the world hated him, the door creaked all through its journey to the wall besides him. He wouldn't be surprised if the whole village knew he made it home.

There Stoick sat on his fur covered leather chair that rested in front of the crackling and glowing fire.

From the way the logs seemed carelessly strewn into the fireplace, the iron poker sitting a few feet away on the floor next to an empty bottle of some of Berk's best whisky, there was no doubt about it. Stoick was drunk.

Hiccup gulped as his father turned to him, a gleam in his eyes.

"Valka?" He breathed incredulously.

Hiccup winced at the name of his long dead mother. It wasn't the first time his father had mistaken him for her while in his drunken state.

"No dad it's me" Hiccup said trying to keep his voice even.

Stoick laughed loudly shifting to where Hiccup could see another bottle of honey colored liquid sitting in his lap.

"Hiccup's only a baby Valka" he said staring at Hiccup longingly the way he would his lover, "So stop fooling around and come sit in my lap" Stoick said patting his fur covered lap and taking a swig of his whiskey before dropping it and letting it shatter into pieces, it's contents soaking into the wood floor.

"I'm going to bed dad," Hiccup muttered shuffling towards the stairs.

Before he could ascend the wooden steps a large hand clamped around his thin arm and Hiccup was sure that if his father moved just the right way his twig of an arm would snap in half.

Hiccup felt his stomach drop as he turned to his drunken father who had a look of lust dancing in his gaze.

Stoick had mistaken him for Valka many times but only one other time had he acted upon it because of how severely drunk he was.

The moment Hiccup felt a large hand land on his hip he knew it was happening again. There was nothing he could do now.