A/N: Alrighty! We're nearly at the end guys! Thank you so much to everyone whose stuck with me, and I'm proud to announce I am already looking at uploading my next fic, which I hope you'll all give a looksee. I think we'll probably have one more chapter and an epilogue after this, so I hope you enjoy!

The Dragons fly faster than they ever have before, pushed on by their frantic riders. They arrive at Berk shadows of the beasts that left, wings trembling with exhaustion. The Dragons land heavily in the middle of the village, not so much setting down as falling from the sky. The teens feel much the same, their legs liquefied from long hours in the saddle and they stagger drunkenly as their feet meet land for the first time in hours. Fishlegs is the first to give up and sit down, leaning back against an exhausted Meatlug. Vikings pour out of their homes and the group is quickly surrounded. Stoick elbows his way to the front with Gobber and Spitelout two steps behind.
"Where have you been? And where is Toothless?" Stoick demands, his voice a shade of it's normal power. The Chief looks gaunt and tired.
"And what in Thor's name happened to you, Astrid?" Gobber adds, taking in the blood on Astrid's face with raised brows.
"Snotlout! You picked a bad time to go gallivanting about on your beast!" Spitelout moves past the chief to stand over his son. "You're going to be chief one day! You can't be running off with these…" He pauses and casts a disparaging eye over the teens, "Children."

Snotlout visibly shrinks before his father's gaze while several villagers mutter at Spitelout's words. Stoick scowls heavily, but makes no comment.
"Now see here, Spitelout!" Gobber, however, is not so quiet. He shoves past Stoick and places his bulky form between the Viking and his son. "Hiccup is not dead and unless that changes, he remains future chief." Gobber's usually cheerful countenance gives way to an almost bestial snarl and is enough to have Spitelout backing up.
"Of course, of course. But Hiccup has Firevein and no one has ever survived it. We need to be prepared." Gobber looks ready to tear into Spitelout, a dark flush creeping over his face and Astrid chooses that moment to interrupt.
"We found one!" She shoves her way in between the two Vikings and she smiles up at Stoick's shocked face. "Well, Toothless did. We found a cure for Hiccup, but we have to hurry! Toothless broke his tail fin and we had to leave him on the island." She explains in a rush, taking the pouch from her belt and offering it to the Chief.

"There is no cure for Firevein!" Spitelout snaps immediately, reaching out as though to snatch the pouch from her hand.
Stoick reaches for the pouch at the same time as Gobber moves to intercept Spitelout. Astrid gasps it is snatched from her, and by none other than Snotlout. The brawny youth hefts the bag in his hand a moment and then tosses it underhand to Stoick.
"Hiccup might be really lame, but he's still my friend." He says, his face unusually serious. He pegs his father with a level stare, Hookfang sliding up behind his master in a manner that is blatantly protective.
"I don't want him to die. I don't care about being chief." Snotlout holds the stare a moment longer, his gaze only shifting when Stoick drops a hand to the boy's shoulder.

"Thank you, Snotlout. We must get this to Gophi immediately! And pray to Odin this works." Stoick turns away before his facade can crumble, feeling his heart kick up into double time. A chance to save Hiccup…

"Ridiculous! There is no cure for Firevein! If there was, we would have found it long ago!" Spitelout makes an abrupt, slashing motion with his hand. "We can't place our hopes on- whatever that is! Hiccup is dyi-" Spitelout gets no further. Stoick is upon him so fast the rest of the village is left stunned. Astrid stumbles backwards, bouncing off of Fishlegs, who crashes into the twins. Snotlout shrinks back until they are grouped tightly together, watching wide eyed as Stoick lifts Spitelout onto his toes. The Chief twists one hand in the slightly shorter Viking's vest and leans in until they are nose to nose.
"My son is not dying. This will work. And if you value your life, Spitelout, you'll not speak again." Stoick's words are a quiet growl, audible only to Spitelout and the teens who stand so close. He releases the other Viking, only to deliver a heavy blow that sees Spitelout staggering back several feet and landing heavily upon his rear.

Spitelout sits in stunned rage for a moment and then climbs stiffly to his feet; Stoick's face is dark with rage, one hand flexing and Astrid's belt pouch is all but strangled in his grip. He straightens slowly and scowls at the surrounding villagers,
"Anyone else wish to comment on my son's condition?" He speaks softly and yet there is no doubt of what he is saying. People shift uncomfortably, but no one dares speak, until Fishlegs bursts forth,
"Can we please hurry up? Hiccup doesn't have time for this!"

Satisfied his point is proven, Stoick spins on his heel and heads for Gophi's house, trailed by Gobber and the Academy.

~x~

An hour later finds Stoick straddling Hiccup's bed, with his son resting in between his legs and resting back against his chest. The boy's hallucinations are the worst they've been so far; he howls and claws at Stoick's grip, his skin flushed and sweat soaked. Gophi sits by the fire, keeping an experienced eye on Fishlegs, who pounds viciously at the moss in a small bowl. Astrid kneels next to Gophi, stirring a bubbling pot that smells noxious. The clacking of the mortar and pestle is drowned out by Hiccup's screams and the Vikings are silent, grim faced. The rest of the academy are ranged around the room and their Dragons fill the doorway.

"Hiccup, hush son, hush." Stoick presses one hand to Hiccup's forehead and flattens the other against his chest. He is oddly perturbed by the way his palm spans the entirety of his son's chest and the fragility of the ribs that push against his hand with every breath.
"How much longer?" He raises his voice to be heard over the uproar Hiccup is causing, the grimace on his face almost pained. It is a struggle he wishes never to repeat, if this cure works; trying to restrain his delusional child without harming him. Gophi waves a hand at him, which could mean just about anything.
"Try to keep him calm, Stoick." Gobber offers helpfully and Stoick thinks longingly of smacking his old friend.
"Because of course I am sitting here for fun." Stoick growls, without actually bothering to try and raise his voice. He casts an uncomfortable glance around the room and then shifts so his back is partially facing the other Vikings.
"Hiccup," Stoick drops the name quietly in his son's ear, and is stunned when Hiccup's cries die down to quiet whimpering. "You hang in there, my boy. Berk just...Wouldn't be the same without you. The village need you, Toothless needs you. I…" He trails off and his voice sounds oddly strangled. "I need you, son. You make an old Viking proud. You're...Uh..." Stoick looks around at Gobber to see if his friend is listening. Gobber is leaning down to read something Gophi is scratching on the floor. Stoick leans closer to Hiccup's ear, an almost smile upon his lips.
"You're far better than a talking fishbone...And if you ever tell Gobber I said that, I'll deny it." Gobber had let Hiccup's comment slip in a moment of frustration and promised Stoick to secrecy. He hadn't wanted Hiccup to know his confidence had been betrayed.

For a moment, Hiccup is silent, resting heavily against Stoick's chest. The moment passes quickly and then Hiccup's chest begins heaving, his breath rattling in his lungs.
"Oh dear, we're out of time!" Fishlegs cries, handing two bowls to Gophi. The old woman hands one to Stoick, and the Chief recoils from the foul scent of the sludge it contains. It is the colour of mud and vaguely resembles the texture of a thick broth. From the other bowl Gophi scoops a thick paste of the same colour. This she spread over the bite wound on Hiccup's neck, coating the skin liberally.
"Since we don't know how the moss works, we thought we should use it both ways." Fishlegs explains, as Stoick carefully tips Hiccup's head back. The brew is slowly tipped into his mouth, and though at first Hiccup coughs and chokes, he is eventually coaxed into swallowing.

The house falls completely silent, and even the sound of their breathing is muted. Hiccup sags abruptly in his father's arms, like a marionette whose strings are suddenly cut. Astrid inhales sharply, looking as though it takes a serious force of will to not cry out. Stoick's face flushes first red and then goes sickly pale. Panic spreads around the room like wildfire, and just as the Vikings are opening their mouths to demand what is happening, Gophi holds up her hand. She leans forward and thumps Hiccup in the chest once with a gnarled fist. The boy gasps once, drawing in a deep breath and then settles into an easy, normal rhythm. The flush recedes slowly from his skin, and though he still looks ill, the deathly pallor has faded. Gophi nods once and scratches something in the dirt, with Gobber and Fishlegs leaning over her shoulder.

"She says he'll sleep now." Fishlegs reads, a slow grin spreading across his features.

The joyous cry starts first with Stoick and is quickly taken up by the teens and then their Dragons. Soon the entire village joins, and the air all but vibrates with the force of Berk's celebration. Most amusingly, Hiccup doesn't bat an eyelid through the whole thing, although several birds are started into flight and the sheep stampede in the fields.

A/N:Next up for Insidious...Hiccup is cured! But how has Toothless fared in the meantime?