We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers.

-Jamie Tworkowski


Los Angeles was like a jungle. Without the teeth and the claws, you were no one. The lower class, the prey, knew where they were destined to end up someday: nowhere or dead with no one to speak of their name in mourning. Without money or some sort of connection to the higher class, the predators, you were worthless to the city. If it couldn't use you, it didn't want you, and that was made clear in several ways.

For a while, they lived in the in between, the middle class, where you were neither appreciated or looked down on. Astrid picked up a job as a secretary at a local dental office while Derek worked long shifts at a factory just outside the city. They lived comfortably but not luxuriously, but she was happy enough just having somewhere and someone to call her own.

Even when Astrid was fired from her position over the many hours she had taken off to work towards a degree, things were okay. Sure, they had to move into a shabbier apartment and spent more nights in than out enjoying themselves. They had each other and that was enough. She later found a waitressing position at a sleazy night club within walking distance of their apartment complex, which was certainly better than nothing. However, she could easily see that Derek wasn't handling the stress as well as she was.

When she tried speaking to him about it, even going as far as offering to take him a therapy group to deal with his stress, he lashed out at her, yelling and banging his fists on the wall until the old man upstairs came down to complain.

But still she loved him.

Astrid finally began to see things from a different perspective when he started going out to bars with some of the other workers from the factory. She often waited early into the morning for him to come home, hoping that he wasn't hurt or lost.

There were no apologies, no signs that he appreciated her concern, no signs that he wanted to change.

That was when she began to obsess over her father's old silver lighter, the one thing she had from home. She would often sit for hours, flicking it on and off, watching the small flame rise and fall.

It was this habit that drove Derek over the edge.

One night, his breath carrying the pungent scent of alcohol and smoke, he stumbled in later than usual. On any other night she would have ignored it and gone to sleep, but being that it was the anniversary of their second year together, she was upset and decided to confront him.

Bad idea.

So there she waited in the kitchen, lighter in hand, the late summer air chilling her through her thin pajamas. He froze whwn he saw her, breathing heavily.

"What 'er you doin' up?" he mumbled, stumbling forward and letting himself drop into a chair.

"You were late," Astrid said quietly. "I was worried."

Derek scoffed. "Can' I get a break?"

"It was our anniversary today." She pursed her lips and knit her brows, searching his face for a sign that he had indeed remembered. Nothing.

He stood up, throwing his hands into the air. "Don' you see how tired I am? All you ever do is complain. Well maybe you should hear wha' I have to say for once," he yelled.

"All I ever do is complain? You're rarely here! When you are, it's only to fetch your wallet so you can get hammered," she retorted.

He huffed and pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket before searching for a lighter.

Astrid shook her head as she watched him. "You know how I feel about you smoking in here-give that back!"

The lighter was suddenly yanked out of her hands. She lunged for Derek as he held it to the end of his cigarette and inhaled the smoke. He blew it into her face, making her cough as he pocketed the lighter.

"Derek! That was my dad's!" Astrid shrieked.

"Since when do you care about that old man? All I ever hear is how much of a pain he is." He grabbed her wrists, holding them between them as she struggled.

"Let go of me!" Astrid grit her teeth and slammed her knee into his thigh, forcing him to release her. He hissed an insult at her under his breath as he doubled over in pain.

"Don't touch me until you've figured out whatever it is you're doing with your life, Derek." Astrid backed away, pure anger in her eyes. When he grabbed at her again, she threw her wrist back and out of reach, but he still managed to grip the other. His cigarette, glowing orange in the dark kitchen, slipped through his fingers and was crushed into her palm.

Pain seared through her veins as a scream bubbled up in her throat. She shoved him away, holding her hand to her chest.

He stumbled back, the cigarette falling to the floor. "Damn it. I didn' mean it, doll," he whispered, his eyes wide with fear.

"Get out," she said quietly.

"Jus' give me another chance-"

"I said get out!" Astrid felt her eyes begin to water, her hand throbbing and raw.

"Please, Astrid. I'm sorry. I don' have anywhere else to go," he begged. "I'll fix things. I promise this time."

Astrid stared down at the floor for a moment, hesitating. "You promise?"

He nodded and held the lighter out to her. She grabbed it from him with her good hand, happy to feel the cool metal against her skin again.

"Okay."


Astrid stared down into her coffee mug blankly, still groggy from the few hours she had managed to sleep the night before. She sighed as its warmth soaked into her hands, chasing away the chill that lingered in her bones. Light cascaded through the window above the sink, the sounds of the city outside coming to life reaching her ears.

An entire city. Some 600,000 people, most of which would never stop to smile at her or hold the door. Of all the cities in the country she had chosen Baltimore, where even the smallest things dug up old memories that she had fought so hard for so long to force back. Maybe she should have just stayed in California with him. At least the money and the people were decent. She could have worked things out with him, or…

Or what? Let him beat her within an inch of her life? Throw herself off a bridge to please him? Silently hope for the day he took it too far and killed her?

Astrid set the mug down, the hot liquid inside threatening to slosh over the sides. She let her eyes wander around her small but efficient kitchen, panic racing through her veins when she caught sight of the digital clock on the oven.

10:14. She was two hours late for work. And to top it all off, wasn't there a staff meeting at noon? Even if she hurried she would never make it in time. If she was lucky, Hiccup would cover for her.

Hiccup. What was he thinking right now? Did he even care if she showed up for work after the way she had acted? She had so much to explain to him, but she had no idea how to go about it without scaring him away. Maybe it would be best to just leave things alone.

But that would be giving up, wouldn't it? The last time she tried that, she ended up with a man who lusted for her blood in a city larger than life.

She was so tired. If she could just sleep for a thousand years…

Astrid sighed and reached for her cellphone. She turned it off and placed the now empty mug in the sink before heading to her bedroom. She climbed into bed, sighing blissfully as the mattress sank beneath her weight, the blankets hugging her figure like a second skin.

Things will be okay, she thought to herself. No one can hurt you here if you don't give them a reason to.

But did she really believe it?


Something was very, very wrong.

Hiccup leaned against the glass wall of the break room, his gaze glued to an empty desk on the other side of the office. His co-workers ignored him as they refilled styrofoam cups with coffee and stopped for a minute of rest, their hands undoubtedly sore and in need of a break after typing all day.

He should have been working himself; Abigail would have a fit if his report wasn't completed and polished to a shine by tomorrow morning. But something about the sight of that empty desk scared him.

Astrid had never called in sick. Even when her father fell the previous winter and landed himself in the hospital, she was there, albeit not happily.

And that was just it. She hadn't called, which was even more unusual. If she had, he would have heard about it already at the incredible rate gossip traveled at.

Hiccup shuffled to the side as a hand reached behind him for a cup. There was no point in lingering; the lunch crowd would be on its way soon. He twisted his way through the throng of people, his heart thundering away in his chest.

What if something had happened to her? She could have become lost on her way home the night before. That would explain why she had never answered his calls.

Or, worse, what if she had made it home and something else had happened?

It was wrong to make assumptions, he knew that, but there was no stopping the thoughts that raced through his mind. He had no idea what, if anything, had happened in the past or what she was capable of.

Hiccup felt as though a pair of invisible hands had slipped around his neck, forcing the air from his body. For a long moment he stood completely still, unable to breathe as he took in the sight of her empty desk, adorned with old pictures and yellow sticky notes.

His feet carried him down the hallway as his hand shot to his back pocket, seeking the reassurance only a phone call could bring him.

The bathroom was empty when he burst through the door. He locked it behind him before pulling up her name from his contact list. Her smiling face greeted him, as careless and beautiful as ever. Her blue eyes were dull.

How had he never noticed? What else had he been missing all these years?

Hiccup hesitated before lifting the phone to his ear. It rang and rang and rang before her voicemail finally cut in. He panicked and hit the call button again, his eyes searching the bland white ceiling.

The ringing stopped. Hiccup froze.

"Hello?"

"Astrid?" he asked, surprised.

There was a slight pause before she responded. "Hiccup?"

"I noticed that your desk was empty. Did something happen?" Hiccup asked.

Another pause. "No. Everything is fine," she said.

Hiccup sighed, somewhat relieved. Just hearing her voice was enough to keep him from tearing his hair out. "Look, about last night-"

"I had to get home and feed Stormfly. You know how she is when her dinner is late."

When was the last time he had even seen her walking with Stormfly?

"Okay, but I still think that there's something we need to talk about," he said.

"Everything is fine, Hiccup. I just needed a day off, okay? We can talk tomorrow," Astrid said.

Could she hear the clear anxiety in her own voice? It was nearly impossible for him to ignore as she spit out the words as quickly as possible.

Hiccup fumbled for a response. "Astrid, I know."

"You know...what?"

"I know something happened yesterday and you don't want to tell me about it," he answered.

There was a muffled groan from her end. "Hiccup, for the second time, everything is fine-"

"Fine does not mean okay, Astrid."

A stretch of antagonizing silence followed. Hiccup waited for her to snap, to correct him or tell him it was none of his business, but the reaction never came. He didn't think before pushing the argument further.

"What happened, Astrid? You're not you anymore. I'm trying to help you and you just keep pushing me away," he blurted, regretting every word immediately and longing to erase them from existence, but it was too late now.

There was a strange sound from the other end. Was she...crying? Hiccup felt his stomach grow cold with guilt.

"I need space," she whispered.

"Astrid, please just listen-"

"I'm done listening. Goodbye, Hiccup."

"No, no, no, that's not what I-"

Click.

"...meant."

Hiccup ran a hand through his hair, his eyes squeezed shut. It took him a few minutes to calm down enough to return his phone to pocket and figure out the next step in whatever it was that he was doing.

If she wasn't going to do the talking, then he would just have do it himself. It was this idea and pure insanity that left him standing outside her apartment complex nearly 45 minutes later.

He texted her upon his arrival and gazed up at the rows of covered windows as he awaited her reply.

Please, please answer.

Horns blared and brakes squealed in the road behind him, leaving his ears ringing in the short moments of silence that followed. He felt ridiculous, standing next to a busy street and hoping for a text that would never come. She had made it clear that she didn't want to see him.

Hiccup's phone buzzed in his hand. Come in.

He threw the door open and took the steps two at a time. He found Astrid standing outaide her door, waiting for him. She avoided his gaze and gestured for him to come inside.

"I told you to say away," she whispered.

"You should know by now that I don't listen well," Hiccup said, offering a small smile. It wasn't returned. "Talk to me."

Astrid lifted herself onto the back of the couch, staring down at her swinging feet. "There's nothing to talk about."

"I didn't drive all the way here in rush hour traffic, nearly lose my job, and scare a couple of pedestrians to hear that, Astrid," he said.

"Well I'm sorry. Were you expecting something a little more exciting?" she sneered.

Hiccup stepped closer to her. "You don't have to lie. I know you better than that."

"I'm not-"

He was so close that she see a strand of Toothless' black fur clinging to his shirt. His hand reached for hers. "I just want to help you. Why won't you let me try?"

"I don't need help," Astrid snapped. She pushed aginst his chest, the loose sleeves of her sweatshirt sliding up to her elbows.

She felt his eyes burn into the bared flesh. Shock, anger, and fear flashed across his face in the short seconds it took her to yank the sleeves back into place. She bit her lip in an attempt to keep herself from screaming.

The room was quiet. Hiccup's eyes still lingered on her left wrist, as if he could see right through the fabric to the ugly, swollen flesh. He knew that she was abnormal now.

"Astrid…"

"Don't," she whispered. As soon as her lips parted, she felt her composure slip and fall away. She turned away when tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

A pair of warm hands gently grasped her waist, slowly turning her back around before pulling her closer. Astrid sank into Hiccup's chest, inhaling his woodsy cologne as her tears soaked into his shirt.

"It's okay. I'm here," he whispered, his voice cracking. His left hand rubbed the small of her back in soothing circles.

"I-I'm sorry you had to see that," she choked out.

Hiccup shook his head. "Don't ever apologize for being human. Maybe...maybe there's something I can do. Do you want to talk about it?"

Astrid hesitated. Bits and pieces of the years that had lead up to this moment flashed behind her eyes. She couldn't ignore those memories anymore now that he knew, as she had tried to for so long. They were a part of her.

She clutched the sleeve of his button up in her hand, pulling herself back to the present. "It's...it's a lot."

"I have time." Hiccup rested his chin on top of her head, pulling her closer.

"I don't think I how yet," she said, her voice hoarse. She listened to his heart tha-thump in his chest as she blinked the tears from her eyes.