It was an Accident RotG/Httyd fanfic
Chapter 9 - Fight for his life
Authors note: Hey^^ new update- I am both sorry and not sorry for that last cliffhanger so sorry(mwahaha) so we finally found out who it was... Dun dun dun but as you can probably guess from the ending of the last chapter this one isn't going to be all that sunshiny nothing that graphic really but I thought I'd warn you guys. Anyway I won't keep you any longer- on to the story^^ please leave a review I love hearing what you all think:-D LAST update tommorow0.0 ooh and on that bombshell that's all I've got to say so enjoy :-)
A hiss of air, and a blur of motion. That was the only warning he got.
For the briefest of seconds, in the corner of his eye.
"NOOOOO!" He heard the desperate shout, and stumbled, as he was shoved backwards. Somehow keeping his footing...
... despite his metal leg.
Then... he saw Jack jolt. His shout came to an abrupt end. Hiccup's heart stopped. He'd seen enough fighting on Berk, to know when something had gone terribly wrong.
Slowly... as though time had frozen... He watched, as his legs buckled... he fell back... crumpled to the floor... and lay motionless in the snow.
"Jack!" He couldn't stop the cry of shock and terror escaping him, as he dropped down next to him. What had happened?! A dark red spread from his chest, far too dark next to his pale skin. If he was stirring, he could barely tell. If he was conscious- it was a miracle. His body slowly turning from pale skin to chalk white.
So this was a bullet... a shaftless arrow point, buried deep into the heart of his friend. He should have known more! If he'd known what he was looking for, he could've taken it instead! It should be him lying there, not Jack! He'd been through too much- he didn't deserve this! Why?!
Fear for his friend was slowly consuming his every thought and movement- it seemed to be whispering to him, but he pushed that thought aside. His hands were shaking so badly, it took two attempts to grab hold of Jack's limp hand. He forced his fingers against his wrist. Did Jack even have a pulse normally?! He was a spirit, how does he know?! He felt one, but was that just his own pulse, throbbing with fear driven adrenaline? That was his own pulse! He needed some kind of life sign, from Jack! Not himself! He moved his ear towards his mouth... a slight death rattle was heard.
He thought the sound of a breath would have comforted him, but this just sent waves of horror flooding through him. It was terrifying!
He attempted to calm himself. He had to get help. He couldn't lose his head now. He had to focus on saving him. Panic later. But the one who shot the bullet had no intention of letting his fear fade that easily.
Hiccup should've gave his friend some kind of treatment- a bandage or something. He should've called for the Guardians- he should've dragged him out of the sanctuary, to where he could get some medical attention. But he didn't. He scrambled away from the dying spirit, as the Nightmare King approached him.
If anyone had been watching him they'd have turned their back on him for cowardice... if they'd seen what was going on in his head, they'd have ran like a coward themselves. But Hiccup wasn't running. Somehow he was standing his ground. Refusing to abandon his friend, in spite of the visions of horror invading his head.
Images of a slit eyed Night Fury. Blue flames rising from its throat, towards him. The mighty, fallen warrior- his last battle lost. Huge, orange flames threatening to envelope him... and more. Some of the visions hadn't even happened, but in the disturbed, warped reality of his nightmares... it was impossible to distinguish the two.
His mother trapped, the dark Alpha about to entomb her in ice. Drago raising a sword at his faithful, black dragon. The Red Death bearing down on Berk. Astrid faced with a feral Stormfly.
He couldn't stand it! They were just too much! But the worst was yet to come...Because now came the visions, that were happening right now.
Jack thought he'd felt pain before... he was wrong. You haven't felt pain until you've experienced the world wiping, soul destroying, endless, unbearable pain he was. All he was aware of, could think about, was pain.
An explosion a second, with every beat of his failing heart. He wished for it to end, but still he clung to consciousness. Like he was being forcibly anchored to the agony of his dying body, right until the last.
He thought he saw snow beside him, washed red with pain, but, then again... was it the pain that was staining the snow red?
The sharp crunch of breaking snow caught his lapsing attention, and a voice, broken and terrified, pleading...
"Dad! Toothless... no, stop!... Mom!... Toothless... no..." He couldn't stand the sound of it. Hiccup... Hiccup was in danger! He had to help him!
He struggled valiantly, but vainly, to get up. Managing only a feeble stir, before pain stole his little remaining strength. He had he hated being so helpless! He couldn't save him... and that anguished thought hurt him more than the bullet... Hiccup... I'm so sorry. He thought...
"Jack..." His eyes, dull and blurred, snapped open, as he heard the voice. The cry was just as terrified as his previous shouts, but somehow more desperate.
Now he understood why the word "cry" had two different meanings... there was a shout which spoke of tears. It broke him inside.
"Jack." He hear him say again, Hiccup's voice shaking so badly, he could hardly even make out the name. He had do something. He couldn't give up! He was not letting Hiccup suffer! He would fight! He fight his failing body! He would fight the king of all nightmares! And it was a fight he would even contemplate losing.
The cries of the Viking boy giving him strength, he managed haul himself onto an elbow. No, it wasn't the pain staining the snow red, he realised, grimly. But he gritted his teeth, and battled on.
It felt like every inch of movement was ripping his cells apart. It was too much- but he didn't back down. Hiccup needed him... Hiccup needed him... Hiccup needed him!
Ooh... this was just precious. Pitch knew the young Guardian was conscious (though barely), as he could feel his fear for his little, twig legged buddy... and what a toy he was.
Such fears, such skeletons in his closet... Oh, watching him writhe and tremble like that...it was so satisfying... And when he started crying out "Help me, help me" in feeble little whimpers. Awww... it was music to his ears.
He wasn't running, though. He was both intrigued and amused at that. He wouldn't abandon the winter spirit... he supposed it was some kind of gallant gesture, but all the silly Viking was doing was fueling Frost's terror. Still, it took a special kind of courage to resist his nightmares- even to that minute degree. He was impressed- that meant he would hold out longer before he snapped.
Torturing the Viking was a bonus, and a pleasure, but Jack had been his main target all along. The fear the untamed winter storms would inspire would be legendary- maybe even enough to start a new dark age. But this puny Viking... now, he, was fun. Tormenting him with distorted versions of the present, and past. His fear was delicious... and his pleas that were falling on his dying friend's ears? Simply delightful.
The fear of a spirit was the greatest and rarest of all... and the fear for those you hold closest? Well that was the strongest, and best fear- he was sure Jackie boy would agree.
Poor, pathetic Guardian. Too weak to even help his own friend. He was almost disappointed really- the Viking had put up a better fight.
He expected more from the great Jack Frost.
The sights of Jack were impossible to bear. Lying dead. Crying out desperately for help- beaten with tears streaming down his face. The slow motion of him jolting and falling down again. The fact that the sequence of it made no sense meant nothing. Sense didn't matter in this twisted nightmare he was trapped in.
The pleading, broken winter spirit appeared once more. He was desperate to help, but couldn't do anything. That one was by far the worst. Seeing him in such a destroyed, beaten, desperate state... needing his help, reaching out for him... but being unable to do anything. It tore him in half... and then another vision, worse than all of the previous ones combined, assaulted him.
So vivid, and extreme, it was real in the world of nightmares.
Jack. Anger in his eyes. No mercy in his expression. Running towards him with a savage battle cry. Staff raised. Glowing with ice. This warped Jack had glowing, demonic eyes, and bared pointed teeth. His shout merged with that of a wild beast. Everything about him screamed untamed, merciless, unstoppable fury. Hiccup could no longer tell that this wasn't Jack. To him, he was really coming for him. He was really about to murder him- this time, for real.
A blast of ice searing through the air towards him. But, instead of the impact, reality returned.
The battle cry of the inhuman beast, turned into one of pain and fury. No longer a nightmarish scream that said "I will murder you." but a strained cry of pain that said "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
Suddenly, Hiccup was back in the sanctuary... and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Jack couldn't be fighting- he couldn't be even be standing!
Most men die instantly from an arrow to the heart- and while Jack wasn't most people- him running at Pitch in a methodless flurry of anger fueled fists...?! It, just wasn't possible! Even for an immortal!
Most of his blows did no decent damage, but he was relentless, and he managed to distract the Boogeyman enough to drag him away from Hiccup.
The twenty year old knew he should run. Take advantage of Jack's distraction to find the Guardians- or at least make sure one of them survived this situation. But he couldn't leave him like this!
He fumbled in his pocket for the one thing that might save his friend.
It shouldn't have been possible for him to be in even more pain, but he was. The agony that filled his every passing moment was an merciless, ceaseless foe that had no equal. But he fought it without hesitation. He didn't know how, he only knew pain- and that he had to continue regardless.
It was only a matter of time before Pitch gathered his bearings, but Jack was dead anyway. At least now his death would mean something. Hiccup would escape.
He had to constantly remind himself what he was fighting for, to give him strength.
Pitch would never have him! He wouldn't let anything happen to that boy! He didn't deserve any of this! Pitch was going to suffer for this! He wouldn't let anything hurt Hiccup! Not now! Not- a ragged cry of pain tore his throat.
His arm had been caught in mid swing, and forced into an unnatural position. Teetering on the edge of breaking point.
His pain level was off the scale! He could barely see straight, and still, in spite of everything, his beaten, tortured body refused to stop fighting. The path of escape through peaceful darkness wasn't open to him. He could only endure, and pray to escape through it soon.
Dark eyes bore down into him.
"I've had enough of your interfering Frost." He couldn't even form thoughts through the haze of pain that surrounded his mind. "I'll be sure to take, very, good pleasure in-" He stopped in his furious threat, as something struck him. A flame wreathed sword, straight through the darkness of his heart.
For a second he stayed there. Shock etched across his face. Then, slowly, painstakingly, he melted into shadows.
Hiccup lowered the sword, breathing heavily. He knew he hadn't killed the Nightmare King, but he'd got rid of him for now.
Without Pitch's death grip on his arm, Jack fell limp to the ground. Where he lay still.
Eyes closed.
No... no, no, no!
"Jack?!" He shook him, with desperate care- trying to wake him, but trying not to make his state any worse. No response. He couldn't be. No... Jack had always seemed so invincible... so full of life... seeing him like this... Oh gods, he couldn't be- he just couldn't!
A shrill sound of wingbeats, and a green blur materialised next to him.
"Jack! What hap- Oh no... No... No..."
Next a grey figure entered the clearing. Stood at the side, and watching as tears slid down the fairy woman's face. His ears flattened to the back of his head.
"No..." He murmured, as he caught sight of the motionless Guardian. Numb with shock, he stood there, feeling as frozen as the winter spirit himself.
North arrived soon after.
"Jack!" He called out, racing over, to kneel beside him. The slender, cold hand vanishing completely in North's own, as he held it to his ear. He muttered some kind of relieved Russian prayer.
"Still alive." He muttered. Bunny's ears pricked up. There was still hope for him!
"Sandy!" North called. The dreamsand master was at his side in an instant. Placing a hand over the open wound, he withdrew a small handful of golden sand that had once been the black bullet.
Bunny leapt into action, then. Picking him up off the floor.
"We need to get him to the warren." He told the others. None of them argued. All kinds of plants and herbs grew in his underground lair- including healing ones... hopefully there was something in there that could save their youngest member.
The Guardians ran to the nearest mountain Bunny raced ahead, carrying the half dead spirit in one arm, as he double tapped the floor. An earthy tunnel opened up in the side of the mountain.
Hiccup made to follow, but Tooth stopped him at the entrance.
"I'm sorry, but you can't come." She told him. She really did look genuinely sorry.
"Wha- but!" Hiccup protested.
"We'll let you know as soon as anything happens." She promised. Then she flew off into the tunnel. In a second, she was gone.
Hiccup would have followed them, permission or not, but the tunnel closed behind her. He ran to it anyway, beating an ineffectual fist against it. A loud crunching drew his attention.
He looked round as all around him the sanctuary was crumbling. The tree's branches were drooping. The lake groaned and splintered. A dull boom, as one of the mountains surrounding the valley cracked. The snow slowly shrank. His valley falling apart, as Jack Frost fought for his life.
