She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star.
-Jamie Tworkowski
Astrid's favorite thing about her father had always been his optimistic personality. With an attitude that could chase away any dark thought and a hearty laugh that never failed to make her smile, he was the perfect childhood idol. Before her mother died, he was always right there on the sidelines at her soccer games, cold water bottle and camera in hand, or letting her ride on his back around the yard in the summer while the dog chased them, and making sure he took time on his long business trips to call her every night before bed.
But then something changed. Her father wasn't her dream-like childhood idol anymore. He came home later and later, sometimes stopping for a smoke (another new habit of his) at the intersection where her mother was pronounced dead, often forgetting to even drive her to soccer practice or answer his phone when she called for a ride back. Tired of walking home alone in the dark, she eventually turned in her jersey and quit the team.
It didn't take long for Astrid to figure out that he longed for the past to stay in the past. All pictures of her mother vanished one day while she was at school, then her jewelry, and soon after her wedding dress. Her father had done his best to completely erase her from their lives in the hopes of a fresh start.
That start never did come.
Between the fights over simple matters that left them both in tears and the weeks of silence afterward, a wall had been built between them. She missed him and secretly hoped that he, too, wished for things to be as they had been, but there was no breaking through that wall.
It wasn't until the day of her 16th birthday that things took a turn for the worst.
Without consulting her father, Astrid made the decision that she was done with her current life. Her grades were suffering, her father didn't have the energy required to take care of a family, and she hated the constant reminders of her mother's death and the role she played in it. So she packed everything she needed into her schoolbag, including his one lighter, and walked past the school to the train station, where she boarded the next train to Los Angeles.
At the time, it was the perfect plan. Los Angeles was an immense city, meaning that there would most certainly be an empty apartment and someone who would hire her. And even if there wasn't, she had an aunt in Anaheim who would surely take her in.
Then she met Derek. Fiery red hair, adorably crooked teeth, and big hazel eyes all stood out to her as she stepped off the train in LA. He was 18 and had an extra bedroom in his apartment that she was welcome to stay in, an offer she stupidly agreed to as they sat alone in a corner of the station. But he was sweet and lonely and smelled like home; cigarette smoke and cheap laundry detergent.
He was her new dream, her reason to keep moving. She loved him unlike anything else, even staying up late some nights to talk with him about finally making it official. She thought things were finally taking a turn for the better.
Hiccup dragged a hand over his face as he stepped back into the house, Toothless skittering in just before he pulled the door shut a little harder than he meant to. Part of him desperately wanted to chase Astrid down before she got herself hurt or lost while the other yearned to just let sleeping dogs lie; maybe she just needed her space. After all, she had on edge about something through the entire night. Maybe she just didn't enjoy his company quite the way he enjoyed hers. That would certainly explain her negative reaction when he tried to pluck a clump of Toothless' fur from the sleeve of her dress.
Just like how she had started to smile less and less around him. Or her eagerness to finish eating and put space between them. And he couldn't help but notice her recent disinterest in meeting up for coffee or bringing Stormfly along on Toothless' walks.
Hiccup's heart skipped a beat as he went over these facts in his head. Maybe he was right and she really didn't care for him anymore. His eyebrows knit together as he retrieved his laptop from the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. He hastily typed into the search bar, waiting anxiously for the results to pop up. His heart sank as he read them.
General discontent...loss of interest...anxiety...social isolation...loss of appetite...irritability…
They described Astrid's behavior perfectly.
It made him feel sick to think of her as ill or a statistic in some study. He hoped that it was all wrong; that she was just having a rough week. Astrid was his best friend. He knew her better than anyone else ever could. How could she have become depressed without him knowing? He had always seen a side of her that was so cheery, so positive, so eager to see the bright side of things...but was that really who she was?
Hiccup shut the laptop and buried his head in his hands. His mind flashed to the scar on her palm that disappeared under the sleeve of her dress, then her haste to cross her arms and hide it from view. His head ached. His hands trembled. A shaky breath escaped his lips.
Where had he been when she needed him? When she had been hurting? Did he really know her after all?
Hiccup reached into his pocket for his phone, selecting the very first contact before lifting it to his ear. He stared into the darkness of his bedroom as he waited, hoping.
Astrid's eyes snapped open. Her hands shook as she pushed herself away from the sink and her tired reflection. She attempted to calm her breathing as she spotted her purse on the kitchen counter and began to dig through it for her phone.
Hiccup.
The repetitive chirping of her ringtone was the only sound in the dim kitchen as she stared at his smiling face, drinking in the sight of his green eyes and freckles, the things that made him who he was. She wanted to hear his voice in her ear again, singing and joking like he always did to make her smile. But she couldn't talk to him, couldn't force him to listen to another poor excuse for her behavior. It was a sick game and she knew it, but what else was there to do? She wouldn't let herself take his happiness away from him like the way hers had been taken from her.
And then just like that it was quiet. Hiccup's face and the opportunity disappeared as her phone's screen went dark, leaving only the harsh bathroom light to illuminate the kitchen.
Astrid gripped her phone in her right hand as she returned to the bathroom. She set it next to the sink before turning the faucet on, watching as the bathtub slowly began to fill. She focused on the dull, aching tightness in her throat as she undressed.
The cold water stung her skin as she lowered herself into the bath. She pulled her knees up to her chest, feeling the telltale wetness at the corners of her eyes. Her skin prickled as she traced the scars on her arms lightly, paying special attention to the strip of raised, pink flesh that stretched from her left palm to the middle of her forearm. She still remembered that night. Sitting alone in that tiny bathroom, an old kitchen knife resting on the floor beside her as an angry fist banged on the locked door, her entire world crashing around her.
God, how long had it been since she had seen him? She wondered if he still remembered her; if he still thought about good it must have felt to have his hands around her throat-
A sob echoed through the bathroom, her own voice mocking her for her weakness. She should have stayed with Hiccup. Hiccup would make everything okay and then...and then what? He would just take her apart and put her back together again, all clean and new? No, that was silly. Those things only happened in movies. She knew enough about the world to know that even people like Hiccup couldn't always be heroes.
She watched the water pour from the faucet, her entire body aching from the cold. Her eyelids were heavy but she forced them open, a small voice in the back of her mind telling her that she shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this.
But then something happened. Her eyes shot open when her phone began to ring again, She pushed herself out of the bath, water splashing over its sides as she collapsed onto the tile floor. Her body sung with pain as she pushed herself onto trembling arms and grabbed her phone from the vanity. She sighed as she leaned against the side of the bathtub.
Her thumb hovered over the answer button. As she hesitated, the phone went silent. She listened to her own heavy, pained breathing as she stared at the dark screen, her stomach going cold. A tear slipped down her cheek, then another, and another after that. A scream welled up in her throat but she forced it back down.
She almost cried out in joy when it began to ring again. She hit the answer button without even considering the consequences, the need to hear his soothing voice blotting out all other thoughts.
"Astrid?"
She held her breath as she listened, unable to speak.
"Where are you? I...God, I'm so stupid. I'm sorry. Please just come back."
Silence.
"I know I screwed up, but just give me a chance. I know there's something wrong, Astrid. It's okay."
She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sob that broke through her lips. He knew. That knowledge alone both terrified and excited her.
"Please. Just let me try. You don't have to be alone in whatever this is."
Tears streamed down her cheeks freely now. Someone had finally thrown her a lifeline.
"Astrid?"
She hung up and dropped her phone on the tile, the screen no doubt shattering into a thousand glittering pieces. Her head fell back against the wall, her eyelids hot and heavy as she sobbed freely.
