As I write this chapter now, I am quietly contemplating finishing the whole thing and uploading it on a regular basis. Of course, I planned to do that with Changed, and that totally worked out *cough*.
So we'll see. On with Serialcup!
(I lied. I wrote five chapters before I cracked and started uploading)
-HTTYD-
Groaning into the hand over his face, Eret leant back in his chair and sighed deeply before rising to his feet to go and get more coffee. He'd not be sleeping that night. Not with the Night Fury still out there. The serial killers handiwork no longer fit on two noticeboards - there were three now, and the third was filling up far too quickly.
"Hey Eret, shouldn't you have left already?"
Teeny - a sarcastic nickname for the guy built like a tank, who barely squeezed those muscles into his uniform - stuck his head round, saw the papers everywhere and the rows of crime scene photographs along the corkboards. Two per victim, one of their brands and another of what was left of their faces. 'Fury' had been a name the killer worked hard for. Even the ones the Fury used their fists for had barely a bone unbroken in their faces.
"Does it look like I can leave?"
"Ah. This guy won't catch himself."
"We don't know its a guy."
Eret pointed out, and Teeny countered with
"What woman could do this?"
"That line of thought cost cops before us, and that sort of blindness is why we don't catch female serial killers. Do I think its a guy? Probably, but none of the victims were sexually assaulted, apart from one guy kicked in the jewels presumably during a struggle, and I am open to the possibility of a woman. I mean, we've hauled that writer in three times now."
Teeny winced.
"Fair point. That girls got a mouth on her, and a mean right hook."
Hofferson had been questioned a few times, and also cost one police officer their job after breaking his nose. He'd offered to 'trade' a guarantee she'd not be called in again for sex, and Hofferson had socked him in the face then produced a recording of him doing it. Apparently she used their interrogations to inspire her writing. They'd had to sack the police officer, or Hofferson probably would have gone to the press about it. Bad publicity was something they couldn't afford, not when they were failing so spectacularly to find anything on the Night Fury.
"They have got to make a mistake somewhere. Nobody is this good at covering up."
The suspect folder was horrifyingly thin, both in numbers and information. Eret opened it again, as though it would show anything. A couple of them were pictures of ex partners of victims, but they all only connected to one person. The growing number of victims told that none of them were viable as the Night Fury. Eret didn't discount copycats, but the brand was so specific, the attacks so random.
"You think it could be a cop?"
"Maybe. But they've never used a gun, or even a taser to incapacitate. This" Eret pointed at the boards behind him "is anger. So unless we start looking at any cop with excessive violence complaints coming out their ears, it's not much of a suspect pool."
He pushed the photos aside one by one, discounted already. There was only one photo left in there.
"Who is this?"
Eret was fairly new to the precinct, having requested the transfer because he so hated cocky, free roaming murderers. He'd been following the case from afar before, but this picture of a guy who looked barely out of teens was new to him.
"Haddock? Oh, he's not meant to be in there. That one witness picked him out of a lineup, but he was a spot filler and has a sick mother as an alibi to boot."
"I thought we didn't trust mothers as alibis?"
Teeny laughed.
"Trust me. Look at his medical list. He was out picking up his mothers meds when he was asked to fill a spot, and she's got a chunk of medical problems herself and can't leave the house without him, so it was more than just a 'my son was visiting' convenient comment. That guys not our guy."
Glancing through the list, Eret nodded to himself - lost his dad as a kid, stepdad ran off, he was registered as medically disabled due to old injuries from a car crash. Including a prosthetic leg. Eret glanced up at the notes next to the first two victims - at first they'd thought the Night Fury had a limp, which would probably match this amputee. But the next victims didn't show any real struggle for mobility in the shoe prints, so the signs of a limp had been put down to things like "maybe he slipped in wet blood" or "he'd sprained his ankle" and so on.
"He doesn't even look old enough."
"Yeah, he was..." Teeny consulted some notes "seventeen, when that first one was killed. The one with cigarette burns, not a brand."
"Are we sure thats a Fury kill?"
"Same rage. And that was the only other one with a witness. Not that she'd help us, but she did say he saved her from a rapist. This guy has a type, and it all fits. Right down to absolutely zero evidence."
Someone came in - the room had been sectioned off for Night Fury stuff only for the moment, because there was so much of it - and dropped an evidence bag on the table. Eret picked it up, frowning.
"What is that?"
"Hoffersons new book. Someone's gotta read it to see if there's more details."
Desperate for anything to stimulate his mind at that point as Eret swallowed a bitter mouthful of cheap instant coffee, he reached for the book immediately, signing the chain of custody log before he opened the seal and pulled out the book. Coffee refilled, he scanned the back and opened the inside covers first. There was a picture of the author; he'd seen pictures of her before, and ignored the wayward notice that she was an attractive woman. There was a chance she was a serial killer. Or knew one, if she had more details of deaths.
He woke with a stiff neck, hours-old coffee and his face stuck to the book under his cheek. Eret sat up with a grunt, peeling the book off his face and rubbing his eyes. Someone had turned the lights off, but apparently left him to sleep. He stretched, stood and headed for the bathroom. After a brief trip out to pick up a breakfast his personal trainer would yell at him for, Eret went back to the Night Fury room and picked the book up again.
Like Teeny said, this killer wouldn't catch themselves.
Astrid was a patient woman. Mostly. And she didn't want to pressure Hiccup.
But a girl could worry.
"Hiccup."
"Yeah?"
Astrid drew her knees to her chest, hoping not to come across aggressive or harsh or judgemental. He was sweet, she didn't want to hurt him but the whole 'wait and see' had gone on a while now. Communication was good, right?
"Are you actually interested in me? I mean, in an attraction way?"
He frowned, and Astrid worried for his answer.
"Are you asking me why I haven't tried to have sex with you?"
She'd not expected such a blunt question, but at least they were at the problem quite quickly.
"Sort of. It's fine if you're just the type of guy who likes to wait. I just don't want to... waste either of our time if you aren't really into me."
Hiccup looked down at his hands, sighing deeply.
"I do like you. I'm just... it's complicated. I struggle with touch sometimes, and I guess I'm self conscious of being a scrawny stick insect covered in scars."
Astrid nodded - she understood the first, though the second was one she felt she ought to address.
"If you're uncomfortable with being touched, that's fine. But I think I've already said this. I like scars. Your metal leg doesn't bother me. And I don't think you're scrawny. Slim, sure, but so what? I don't need you to make me feel small and delicate by comparison."
He squirmed a little under Astrid's scrutiny, so she tried not to look so intently at him on what was clearly a touchy subject.
"Would you take your shirt off? I won't touch you if you don't want me to, but this way you can't say I don't know what you've got under there."
Hiccup's eyes widened, hands shaking. Astrid worried she'd asked a little too far, but then he heaved a deep sigh and nodded.
"You asked for this."
He stood, turned away from her and placed hands on the hem of his heavy jumper. Astrid sat up straighter, trying to keep her face neutral as he began to lift the fabric. Right away, she could see what he was worried about. When the jumper and t-shirt were tossed aside, Hiccup stood with his arms crossed in front of him, exposing the scars only on his back and gods... there was barely an inch of him that wasn't scarred. Jagged lines, thick stripes, small, circular burns and flat, stretched ones. He was shaking when he turned to face her, letting his hands fall to his sides.
More scars littered his chest, his sides, his stomach. Astrid knew he'd been in a car accident, and expected some scars from something that had been serious enough to cost him his father and his leg. But looking at his torso now, Astrid could see there was far more to it than one accident. There was a tattoo on one shoulder, but other than that his skin was mostly scars and a few freckles.
"Told you."
Astrid realised she'd lifted her hands to her mouth in shock, unaware until he was reaching for his jumper again to hide himself. Still stunned, Astrid finally snapped out of it when Hiccup made a comment that he was going to leave.
"Wait! I'm sorry. I was surprised. And I don't know what happened to you" Astrid stood up, moving in front of him so Hiccup stopped rather than walk into her "but it doesn't make me less attracted to you. At all."
Hiccup still wouldn't look at her, but he didn't back away or try to leave again.
"I won't ask what happened, although I hope one day you'll feel like you can tell me."
He was quiet for a minute, but then Hiccup reached a tentative hand out and placed it on her waist. Astrid dared to step closer, tipped her head up and smiled when Hiccup kissed her. Maybe they weren't wildly physically passionate, but Astrid knew that didn't matter. Hiccup was attentive, always listening no matter how much Astrid went on about her books. He talked her down when she was wound up with stress, answered ridiculous texts at three in the morning even though he probably ought to be sleeping. He made her dinner and watched trashy TV with her. Even drew pictures to help Astrid visualise when they were talking murder mysteries.
If it took another month or another year to get him in bed? She'd live. And get new batteries for her vibrator, probably.
Hiccup pulled away from her, cheeks flushed and breath a little heavier.
"I'm... I mean, I haven't... before."
"Hiccup, are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?"
He nodded, eyes downcast. Astrid reached up, touching his cheek gently.
"That's ok. I can wait til you're ready. And I'm a girl who will happily give you directions if you're not sure what to do."
Hiccup slid his other arm around her, pulled Astrid to him in one of those rare Hiccup-initiated hugs. She tried not to squeeze him too tight.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
He said it so quietly she wasn't sure it was meant for her to hear it, but Astrid drew back a little and offered him a smile.
"You say that like you've done something terribly bad before."
His face clouded for a minute, looking away and Astrid saw him swallow thickly.
"Guess we file that under things you might tell me one day?"
He nodded tightly, arms falling from her sides and Astrid resisted the urge to pull them back, liking how it felt when he held her. She couldn't imagine he'd done something truly terrible in the past, but Astrid also knew she could not be certain he'd never done something 'bad', and equally there was a good chance that he'd done nothing bad but had been convinced otherwise by whoever had covered his body in those marks.
"Hey. Fancy some pastry?"
Hiccup raised an eyebrow; he was not enamoured with Astrid's efforts in the kitchen, and she couldn't blame him. Cooking wasn't her strong suit.
"Did you make them?"
"Rude! But no. There's a place I spend far too much money in that makes great pastries down the road. Up for it?"
"Uh. Sure. Mind if I use the bathroom first?"
Astrid stepped back, smiling as Hiccup headed off toward the toilet door, leaving her to think for a minute. Someone had obviously hurt him. A lot. She recognised cigarette burns, marks of a belt-whipping. It would explain a lot anyway - his hesitance with touch, how quiet he was, and since he was so terrified to take off his shirt and reveal it, probably his virginity too. It had taken Astrid a few months now to even get the conversation that far - anyone less patient and not necessarily understanding might not have hung around that long. And that was if they were as forward as Astrid. She basically demanded his phone number and asked him out.
Still, for lack of experience, Hiccup was a pretty good boyfriend so far. And she liked how sweet he was, always taking care of his... oh. Did his mother do that to him? Or... his injuries were all old, some years older than others. His stepfather had vanished when he was fifteen, and his mother had a list of medical maladies. Oh. Astrid tried to stop thinking too hard on it - he'd tell her when he was ready.
"So... pastry?"
Hiccup exited the bathroom, wiping a little missed water off washed hands.
"Pastry it is."
After a little hesitation, Hiccup reached down and held her hand. Astrid grinned when he turned nervous eyes to her, squeezing gently in encouragement. He smiled in return as they walked, Astrid eventually tugging him into the bakery. The girl who worked behind the counter spotted Astrid quickly, waved with a smile.
"Astrid! The usu- oh. Who's this?"
"Hey Heather. This is Hiccup. Hiccup, meet my sugar dealer, Heather."
Heather looked him up and down before turning back to Astrid and giving a thumbs up.
"I like to think of myself as ensuring you actually eat something every day."
They chatted for a minute while Hiccup got the chance to peruse the options, Heather mouthing "nice!" at her in reference to Hiccup. It was the first time Astrid had ever had a date to the bakery after all. When Heather looked back over at him, he tapped the glass over one of the options.
"Are there nuts in this?"
"No, but are you allergic?"
Hiccup shook his head.
"No. I just don't like the taste of most, and I prefer peanuts in a smooth butter."
"That's alright then" Hiccup meandered off to look at the drinks menu, and Heather looked back to Astrid "wow, is he always so...?"
She trailed off, but Astrid knew what she meant.
"He's quiet sometimes, but I like him."
"That's good. Your usual, yeah?"
"Always. Well, not always. But until the gingerbread stuff comes back for December."
After Hiccup ordered, Heather shooed them off to sit and said she'd bring them over. Hiccup checked his phone, but Astrid knew he was only checking if his mother had called or texted him, otherwise it tended to stay in his pocket.
"Hey, is this the guy that overheard you on the bus and you thought was following you?"
"Wow Heather, doesn't make me sound weird at all! But yes, this is him."
Heather winked, placing the tray down and escaping before Astrid threw a spoon at her. Hiccup surveyed his drink, stirring with the overly long latte spoon to disperse some of the foamy top.
"So this is where you fuel the writing?"
"Yep. And then pay for it in the gym. Actually, thats a lie. Working out is a great stress relief, its just a happy side effect nobody can tell I'm a secret sugar addict. Except maybe my dentist, but she's evil incarnate anyway."
Chewing on a mouthful of something that smelled like cinnamon, with chocolate chips scattered through it, Hiccup gave her a bemused look.
"What did your dentist ever do to you?"
"Doesn't everyone hate their dentist?"
He shrugged.
"I don't. I've had some dental work over the years" his expression said it was related to the network of injuries over his body, and he sucked in a breath before moving on "and I disliked all the times I couldn't have solid food more than anything. He was gentle, did good work. And I'm not afraid of needles, which I guess helps?"
"Could be. Mostly mine gives me cleanings and tells me to drink less coffee. Has she never met a writer before? Caffeine is part of our DNA."
Heather left them in peace to eat and drink, waved goodbye when Hiccup took their tray back up to the counter. After they left, Hiccup checked the time.
"Would you mind if I headed home now?"
"Nope. I know you gotta get back to your mom. Can I see you again soon?"
Hiccup nodded, smiling.
"I would like that. Thanks for the pastry date."
Astrid waited, hoping, and was rewarded by Hiccup repeating his earlier motion of one hand on her waist before he leant in and kissed her. She could taste the cinnamon on his lips, stomach fluttering.
"Are you writing tonight?"
"Maybe just some outlines. I only just got the last one out! Why do you ask anyway?"
Hiccup chuckled, holding up his phone.
"So I know to look out for the late night questions about blood and broken bones."
"Well when you put it that way, I sound really weird."
Still smiling, Hiccup shrugged.
"I like weird. I will see you soon milady."
Astrid couldn't keep the goofy smile off her face as Hiccup headed off to his car, turning to wave when he reached the disabled bay of the car park over the road. How was anyone the right mix of adorable and knowledgeable about murder? It was a strange combination, and she was so glad she'd found him.
-HTTYD-
Serial Killer AU and fluff... I'm sure thats a trope somewhere...
Silvoide - when you say 'already started kissing', they had been seeing each other for a few weeks by then and were only kissing. If anything, thats moving slow for me when most of my work is "how soon do they bang? very soon"
IcyForest - air embolisms can definitely kill you. They usually happen as a side effect of needles in blood vessels.