"Stoick," Someone whispered beside him, "Stoick wake up," A shove. "It's morning."

The chief hadn't been aware that he'd fallen asleep, so the awakening was confusing, and he had to blink around at his surroundings a few times before yesterday's events came washing over him in a flood. Adrenaline rushed through him at the memories, and he stood quickly.

Gobber watched him with a patient face. Usually, the smith enjoyed more loud, gruff interactions with his longtime friend, but in light of recent days, he was careful to give the chief some space and, when it seemed right, gentleness.

"They're startin' to patch up the boats with what timber they can find," He told the chief as he brushed himself off and stretched his sore muscles, "Mind you, there's not much lyin' 'round here, being an island of rock. Spitelout's sayin' we'll need to send an advance party forward to fetch more ships from the Island, take 'em back here, ferry back and forth 'til we can get everyone back home. But it's goin' ta take some time, and-"

"Hiccup?" Stoick interrupted, having only been half-listening. "Where's Hiccup?"

"Ah, well, that's what I was 'bout to say. The healers are sayin, ah… that is…" Gobber sighed. "I'll be straight wit ya', Stoick, he's not well. And we need to get him home first 'fore everyone else."

Stoick started straight away for the tent where he knew they'd put his son. Gobber hurried after him. "'Course he can't go alone, Thorn will have to go too, with all his medical supplies, and a few others. Your brother's already drawing up all the arrangements, they just need to get one of those boats patched up so we can-"

"Where is he?" Stoick stopped on the spot, spinning around in a cleared patch of ground where a tent used to be. Busy Vikings milled around him, carrying wood, rope, buckets. His son was nowhere to be seen.

"They moved him further in," Gobber gestured. "The wet air's startin' to settle on his lungs. I saw him earlier, Stoick, he's running a fever something fierce, he needs to get back ta Berk as soon as-"

"Where?"

Gobber knew that tone, so he broke off what he had been planning to say and didn't hesitate. "This way."

Hiccup's face was extremely pale as the day before, but was now trying valiantly to muster a hot pink color in the heat of his fever. The only moisture on his skin was from the thick sea air, and it left patches of powdery salt that the healers had to scrub off from time to time. He wasn't in a tent, anymore, but still wrapped in furs. His body wasn't even trying to shiver.

When Stoick came in, Thorn had just finished replacing the soiled wrappings on Hiccup's leg. He turned to look up at the chief, but Stoick's eyes immediately caught on the discarded bandages, half brown with dried blood, but shining bright red in some places. Thorn noticed, and took the bloody cloth in a fistful and tossed it into a nearby fire. It broke the spell, and Stoick turned back to the healer.

"Gobber says he's not well," He said, businesslike, but he couldn't stop himself from glancing repetitively at his son's stump, which still rested in Thorn's hand.

The physician sighed, and turned to put the leg back beneath the fur coverings. "He can't stay here much longer, Chief. The night is cold, the day is warm, the air is thick and wet… it's makin' his body work too hard to keep him well. It's already had one Hel of a job cut out for it, if you'll pardon the figure of speech." Thorn stood up, shorter than Stoick but looking just as concerned. "He needs still, dry air and fresh water and a bed that's not made of rock." Thorn crossed his arms. "you wouldn't have any doubts about it, sir, but he goes home first."

Stoick drew in a deep breath, checking his concern and anxiety in so that he could evaluate their options. A thought struck, and he cast his eyes around suddenly. "Where's Toothless?" he asked, and he wouldn't figure out until later that the name tasted strange because it was the first time he'd said it.

"I sent him away this morning, when Hiccup's fever was peaking. That dragon's hide is like fire itself; he was doing more harm than good coddling the boy like that. I think he understood, but wasn't too happy about it. Marta said she saw the beast earlier, not too far away," He pointed in the right direction, "said he was chewing at his tail, though she didn't know why."

"Chewing at his…" his tail. Of course. When they'd had the Night Fury locked up, Stoick had seen how Toothless was missing a tail fin, and how Hiccup had replaced it. What he hadn't noticed until that moment was that they'd never bothered to help the dragon out of his ruined flying gear since he crash-landed to earth. "Right." He looked back down at his son. "How long?" He asked the physician, "How long do we have before…" He didn't want to finish, and Thorn understood why he wouldn't.

"I can't say, Sir, I'm sorry. I'm not so sure it's life and death at this point, more… damage control. You should know what fevers can do. Let it go too long, they won't wake up the same."

Stoick did know. So he squared his shoulders and put his head up, and pieced together a plan in his head. "Do what you need to. Gobber," He turned, knowing that the smith was still standing near, "Find Toothless and get him out of that contraption of his. …Make sure he's not hurt," He tacked on as an afterthought. "I need to go speak with Spitelout."

"Right," Gobber hurried off, following the direction that Thorn had indicated earlier. Stoick turned and marched back to where a hive of Vikings were trying to repair their ships. "And son," He said quietly, when he was away from the others, "try to listen to orders just this once: don't you dare die until I get a chance to take you home."

Gobber hadn't meant to pick up Astrid on his way to Toothless, but he'd passed the gaggle of newly-released dragons on the way, and she'd been there stroking a nadder's snout when he appeared, and had rushed over to ask questions again.

Surprisingly, she asked about Hiccup only once, and when Gobber's only answer had been "Not good. We need to get him home soon. I'm goin' ta find his dragon," she hadn't pressed the question, and instead stepped into stride with Gobber, presumably to help him.

Walking along the pebbly beach, Gobber felt silently impressed by the girl, much as he always had been, although now for different reasons. She was a strong one, to be sure. Although she did a good job acting apathetic to just about everything and everyone that didn't involve warfare, he'd seen the past few days how much she could care. It was her caring nature that gave her such formidable strength behind her axe. Before, care for her home and protecting their people. Now, for Hiccup, the one who'd changed everything overnight.

He'd seen the way she looked at him. He wasn't sure he'd call it love just yet, but he'd begun to hope it'd grow into that one day. Hiccup would need someone as strong as Astrid beside him in the days and years to come. For his own sake, and for all of Berk.

"There," Astrid said, pointing. Through a misty fog, they could see Toothless sitting curled over himself. True to what Marta had said, he was chewing at his own tail, making frustrated gnawing sounds. As the two Vikings drew nearer, Toothless heard them and brought up his head, tail still in his own jaws. Gobber saw that it wasn't really his tail that he was chewing at, but rather the mangled cord and straps that still clung to it.

"Settle down there, now," Gobber gestured peace with his hand. "Let's see what we've got here," He came close, and Toothless seemed to understand so he let down his tail in front of Gobber. Still, he eyed the Viking warily, so Astrid came over and stroked his snout comfortingly. Toothless trilled and pressed into her palm.

Getting the gear off took far longer than it should have. Toothless had apparently tried to burn it off already, and some of the metal bits were welded together, including some of the buckles that fastened the many leather straps.

"Did you know he was making all of this?" Astrid broke the silence, examining the gear on Toothless' back and chest as she continued to pet him. Gobber, who'd been wrestling a metal buckle open, stopped his work and glanced up and down the length of the dragon.

"No," He said, resuming his pulling and wrenching. "Hiccup has a knack for sneaking scraps that I won't miss right from under me nose. I don't know where he hides them, but if I'd known what that boy'd been up to all this time, I'd've told him off until his ears bled and kept two eyes on 'im until Raganok itself." He shook his head slowly, and sighed after a moment. "Truth be told, though," he said seriously, "I'm glad I didn't know at all. You should be too, after yesterday."

Astrid didn't say anything in reply, but decided to help by going at the gear on Toothless' neck. She wasn't quite as brutishly strong as Gobber, but her fingers worked dexterously enough to have the same effect. "I knew he was up to something," she confessed, "I just didn't know what. I saw him in the woods past Ravens Point, once, with the saddle."

"Did ya, now?" Gobber seemed interested. Astrid shrugged.

"I had no idea what it was. I just… dismissed it, after a while. Hiccup is strange. It was strange. I knew he was doing something to get so good with dragons. I would never have guessed this," She freed the front girth of the saddle, and Toothless shook himself in relief. "I didn't think he was capable of something so…"

"Clever?" Gobber offered. Astrid looked down, ashamed.

"We've always been wrong about him, haven't we?" She was referring to herself and the other teens, but Gobber knew it applied more widely.

"Oh, I don't know about wrong, really. Ignorant, maybe, but not really wrong." Gobber said in that strangely wise way of his, "Hiccup isn't easy to understand."

"We could've tried harder," She said, fiddling with the second girth guiltily.

Gobber nodded. "Aye, we could have. And if we'd actually managed to understand anything 't'all, we'd 'ave shipped him off for treason, or insanity besides. It's messy any way you hack at it. Could we 'ave listened to him more? Probably. Should we 'ave? Maybe. But 'probably so's and 'maybe if's don't help worth a fly's behind when there's work to be done." one of the straps on Toothless' tail snapped open, and he flexed the area gratefully. "Hiccup made himself loud and clear yesterday, and wha' with no more dragons dodging for us left and right, we've finally time to stop and listen. So tha's what we'll do. But right now, we'll do the work that has to be done." Gobber strained, and pulled apart another strap on Toothless' tail.

Astrid regarded her teacher for a moment before returning to work. She knew that some people saw Gobber as an eccentric old battle hero too damaged for real war, but she'd learned recently that behind the weird humor and questionable sanity, his mind was as sharp as the blades he forged. She dedicated herself to remember the fact in the future.

"Now, tha's better, in'it, ya Black Lightnin'?" Gobber smiled after they'd unfastened everything.

"Hiccup calls him Toothless," Astrid corrected the larger Viking as they helped Toothless step out of the metal loops around his legs.

"Odin knows why," Gobber scoffed. "The beast's got teeth as quick as a flash. They're what saved Hiccup's life, you know. Though not his leg."

Astrid shot her eyes up to Gobber for an explanation, but he said nothing more, and hauled the saddle and riding gear up and away, leaving it on the beach. Free and bare-scaled, Toothless shook himself and hummed happily as he pressed his head against Astrid's stomach. It was only a matter of seconds before he was trotting off determinedly - off to find Hiccup, no doubt. Astrid went after him in a jog, but Gobber chose to walk. A few yards in, he stopped and sighed.

He glanced back at the gear they'd left abandoned on the beach. It was useless. Mangled. It really was just salvage now. They would leave it here for time to clean up, wasting away with the rest of the rubble left under the ashes of the Red Death. There was no reason not to.

Gobber griped to himself about logic as he hobbled back over to it. Not knowing exactly why, he gathered the ripped leather saddle and its metal extensions up into his arms, and took it with him as he walked away. He didn't have a reason for doing it beside the fact that he couldn't just leave it there. So he let the warped metal tail bones dragon along after him as he hobbled through the fog.

Astrid knew her questions had been getting annoying just as much as Fishleg's questions were beginning to annoy her. So she distanced herself from the bigger boy and let him pester the twins while she drifted silently through the busy camp, eavesdropping in order to satisfy her painful curiosity. She passed Spitelout, who looked rather pestered as his son trailed behind and tried far too hard to be helpful (a sight Astrid was sure she would never see again,) but the father also seemed to recognize the concern behind his son's gesture, and suffered the bad with the good if only out of sympathy. She heard Stoick's booming voice directing people left and right. Bring that mast here, pitch the sides there, is the keel still straight? The steeringboard needs a new tether. If there had ever been any doubt as to why Stoick was the great chief that he was, the moment would have dispelled it. He was a master of direction and managing people, even when his son was lying in pieces at death's door.

Astrid let her eyes wander. She knew that the plan was to fix one ship in order to send Hiccup home first with Thorn, Stoick, and enough healers to tend to the boy. Spitelout and Gobber would stay behind to handle the crowds until more ships were ready. She also knew that time was wasting to get Hiccup home. She didn't know what the risks were for him, but she knew how to read the grave looks around camp. Hiccup needed Berk, and he needed it yesterday. Summoning what bravery she had, Astrid marched forward and found herself stepping into stride with Stoick.

"Sir," She said formally, forcing herself to stand straight and proud,

"Not now, Astrid," Stoick said, and it was longsuffering, not cruel.

"Sir, please, I want to help. We need to get Hiccup home,"

"Yes, you think I don't know that?" Stoick rounded on her angrily. She jumped slightly, and he checked himself, a deep breath before continuing, "I'm doing what I can, Astrid," he told her.

"The dragons," she blurted. "The dragons took us all here, they can help Hiccup get home." The idea game him pause, and he stared. Astrid took the silence as a cue to continue. "They make the trip home twice as fast, we can get Hiccup to Berk and have him home and looked after. Thorn can arrive and go right to work on him when the ships follow after."

Stoick only stared. The idea held real merit, he knew, but he couldn't stop the sequence of images that flew through his head: of Hiccup falling from the sky into the ocean, of him freezing in the jetstreams, of Astrid flying him safely to Berk only for him to pass in the night where Stoick couldn't be there soon enough, of him growing worse while Thorn was away, of the dragon-riding teens helpless to do anything to save him. Was he willing to take the risks? He didn't know. Stoick the Vast, for perhaps only the fourth or fifth time in his entire life, was left without an assured answer. He stayed that way, staring uneasily down at Astrid, when Thorn jogged up to him.

"Chief, I know you're doin' all you can, but we need to move faster, I've done all I can do, and storm clouds are gatherin'. If Hiccup doesn't get to Berk today, I fear of what'll happen when the rain rolls in." His eyes were serious.

Stoick tossed his head away, wishing that for once, he didn't have to make decisions like this. He took a deep breath and held it. Thorn and Astrid stood there watching, waiting, until he snapped back around with the sort of determination in his eyes that was so forced, no one there really relaxed when he gave his answer.

"Fine," He said, and it was directed at Astrid. "But I'm coming with you." She looked surprised, but nodded eventually. "Thorn, find some rope, and bring my son around to the west side of the island.

"Sir?"

"Where the dragons are. We're going to get him home."

Thorn cast an incredulous look at Astrid, and she gave the other Viking a steady look. He shrugged and let out a breath. "Yes, sir."

Stoick probably should've been more concerned with the fact that he was mounted on a dragon and was about to fly, but as the small team mounted up for the flight back to Berk, he couldn't stop himself from looking over at the Nadder, where his son was buddled up and secured by enough rope to satisfy a worried father. He looked away and adjusted his helmet.

"You sure about this, Stoick?" Gobber asked, standing by the shoulder of the nightmare Stoick was riding. Snotlout had somewhat uneasily given up his place in the return party and was staying behind under orders from Stoick to help his father direct the rest of the tribe in absence of the chief.

"No," Stoick told Gobber straight.

"Right, well… be careful, then." Gobber stepped away. "We'll see you by tonight, waves willing."

Stoick only nodded. Toothless was growling loudly, barking at the other dragons and rustling his wings. He looked somewhat odd to Stoick now, without his tack and leather. More vulnerable. The beast had nuzzled Hiccup's side all the way to Astrid's mount with the air of an overprotective hound, but now he looked like the viper-quick predator he was, and whatever he was saying to the other dragons, he'd earned their complete attention.

Vikings handed supplies to the twins and Fishlegs, and Thorn stood by Astrid, briefing her on how to care for Hiccup once they arrived. They were all so busy, Stoick wondered if he was the only one who was watching as Toothless marched up and down the line of dragons, looking for all the world like he was giving a pre-battle speech. Eventually, his growling died down, and Toothless cast a look around at the Vikings who were clearing space for takeoff. He turned back barked once more at his comrades, and the dragons trilled and screeched each in response. The night fury cleared from the beach, looking long at Hiccup, and then, as he turned, to Stoick. He snorted firmly and went to stand by Gobber.

"Ready, Sir?" Astrid asked, and Stoick remembered suddenly that he should probably hold on. The nightmare looked back around at him questioningly, and he gripped the horns more firmly.

"Go," He said, because his own preparedness wouldn't actually change anything.

"Let's go!" Astrid called loudly, leaning over Hiccup. The nadder's legs tightened and sprung beneath her, and one by one, the other dragons followed, wings beating through fog to reach higher at the air.

Gobber watched them go along with the rest of the crowd. As the shapes faded into shadows and eventually disappeared entirely, Toothless moaned beside him. Gobber looked down at the beast and gave him a pat on the head.

"Come along then, Toothy. They'll get 'im home. But there's work to be done here, as well."