Note: Last of the beta'ed chapters. Slightly slower updates from here on out.
Not for the first time, Fishlegs wishes he was Thor Bonecrusher. It would make life so much easier.
Pushing the idle thought aside, he sweeps past Hiccup and Toothless to where Hookfang is holding Snotlout upright. Triage first. Open wounds but not actively bleeding. Pain, of course. Shock, most likely. Fever— "He's burning up," Fishlegs snaps. "Hiccup, we have to get this down, now. Find us some ice… Toothless, can you go get some?" The Night Fury nods and slips out of the room. "Hookfang, I'm going to clean him off and get him bandaged up with poultices. You know what those are, don't you?" The dragon nods. "Okay. Can you talk to him, purr for him?" Hookfang blinks, and Fishlegs looks into his anguished eyes, not without sympathy. "You probably don't feel much like purring right now. But it's the best thing for him, it'll calm him down, might help with the fever as well." The deep, resonant, boiling-teakettle purr immediately starts thrumming through Hookfang's body. "Good. Keep it up."
Hiccup's barely been able to follow this flurry of action. He feels the corner of his mouth quirk upward as his chest swells with pride in his friend. And Fishlegs thought he wasn't up to this.
Fishlegs is not feeling confident in the least, but there are things to do and he knows how to do them, so that's what he'll do. "Hiccup, keep giving me wet cloths, okay? This has to be cleaned off now." Hiccup obliges, and Fishlegs starts working. He doesn't dare scrub at the deeply welted and raw flesh, so he just uses the towels to sluice water all over everything. "Sorry about your quilt," he adds as an afterthought to Hiccup.
"I'll wash it later. We've got another one."
As Fishlegs works, Snotlout grunts, then starts moaning with every exhalation. Hookfang grunts in sympathy and licks the top of his head. Fishlegs' chest feels tight. "Sorry, Snotlout," he apologizes, unsure if Snotlout can hear him. "I gotta get this cleaned off. It wasn't a bad idea with the seawater, but the salt can't stay."
"You think it was on purpose?" asks Hiccup, steadily dipping and handing cloths to Fishlegs.
"Oh, yeah. Hookfang, you did it deliberately, didn't you?"
Hookfang tilts his head and quarks in what's clearly a Yes, but it was his idea.
"Don't blame yourself. It wasn't a bad thing to do," Fishlegs says, patting the Nightmare's quilt-draped stomach. "Probably helpful in the long run. But it's going to make his pain worse and irritate his skin…" Fishlegs grimaces. And it's already bad. "That's why we need to clean it off."
The humans work steadily as Hookfang licks Snotlout's face. Toothless pads in with two blocks of ice in his jaws. "Crush 'em into a bucket, bud?" They end up with a container of watery crushed ice. "Hookfang, can you…" Hiccup looks up and smiles. Hookfang is already using one of his claws to dip a cloth in the ice, then drape it carefully over his rider's forehead. "Atta boy!"
They work for what seems like a long time. Their patient makes little sounds with each breath, but doesn't come back to the wakefulness of before. Even unconscious, he shudders and groans as Fishlegs washes the salt off the places where the skin is flayed raw and bleeding. Hiccup cringes to hear it, and Hookfang writhes and moans, just barely holding himself back from blasting holes in the ceiling. "It's okay, Hookfang," Hiccup reassures. "It's okay. Just try and keep quiet." The dragon throws his head back, giving vent to his feelings in a belch of smoke and fire that thankfully doesn't reach the roof.
Fishlegs keeps working. It's funny how he used to hate Snotlout when they were little, then grew to respect him – and now his heart aches and goes out to him with every sound of pain his friend makes. He keeps washing off the crusted salt, shutting out Snotlout's moans and Hookfang's anguished rumbles. He can practically hear the dragon begging Help him. Stop the hurting. "Is there something more Hookfang can do to help?" asks Hiccup.
Hiccup always asks the right questions, always. "Yeah," says Fishlegs, thinking aloud. He's noticed Snotlout's getting hot and dry. "Hookfang, when you've put the ice on his head, as you're waiting to change it, go ahead and lick the rest of him. It's good, it'll help cool him down."
The dragon immediately sets to licking the wounds Fishlegs has washed and gently running his tongue over his rider's arms. "Let's get this done…" Fishlegs sets Hiccup to finishing the washing while he heaps herbs into a mortar, grinding them fine to make a salve. Toothless, who has appointed himself Hiccup's assistant, passes Hiccup cloths and places the dirty ones in a pile. There's an embarrassing moment when Hiccup has to remove Snotlout's salt-saturated leather gear and underwear ("No, those can't stay, Hiccup. Good way to have the salt eat through his skin"), but Hiccup gets through it by looking mostly away while he splashes water over his cousin's privates and covers him with a sheet, patting him dry. Hiccup winces as he presses the soft cloth onto the wounds, bloody liquid soaking through the sheet with the water from the washing, but he finishes the job with admirable fortitude. Hiccup's always been a great partner for serious work. "You're doing great, Hiccup," Fishlegs encourages him, even managing a smile, but Hiccup just winces and shakes his head. Fish can't really blame him.
Finally, the herbs and other ingredients are mixed smooth enough for Fishlegs' requirements. "Going to put the salve on now. Could you light another torch, Toothless?" Fishlegs requests. Obediently, the Night Fury shoots a careful blast, setting the torch-head glowing. Then he helpfully rises on his hind legs, lifts the torch out of its bracket, and trots over with the handle in his mouth.
"Thanks, bud," Hiccup croons to his dragon. Toothless warbles back as best he can with the torch in his teeth. Then he rises to sit on his haunches and hold the light aloft, angling it so the humans can see.
Fishlegs gasps. Under the bright torchlight, each welt is painfully visible, casting shadows over Snotlout's skin. Fishlegs almost asks Toothless to move the torch away, sickened at how the lashes have overlapped to flay Snotlout's back and legs raw; there's barely any skin left. His sides are blistered, underlain with bruising all the way down to the bone, his chest similarly bruised and scored with raised, purple ridges. Hiccup grunts in sympathy as the light makes it visible to him as well. "I shouldn't have left him," he whispers, in pain. Hookfang nods and moans. "Shouldn't have let you leave him," Hiccup adds, unable to tear his eyes away.
Fishlegs forces himself to be the voice of reason. "This isn't helping. Come on." Steeling himself, he scoops out some of the balm in his fingers and carefully layers it on in a thick paste, hands not touching the raw flesh. "It's okay, Snotlout," he dares to say, even though Snotlout has said he doesn't want him here. "You're gonna be okay. We've got you." In Fishlegs' wake, Hiccup lays pretty much all their store of scrubbed seaweed over the balm and then wraps everything up in soft, clean bandages. "Yeah, up, Hookfang… turn… Perfect."
As they work, Snotlout moans and shifts, trying to push his way into consciousness. "Come on," urges Fishlegs. "Come on."
But the fever's climbing, and although Snotlout opens his eyes, they are glazed and unfocused. "Hookfang…" he moans. The Nightmare croons and licks his rider, beating a wing to fan him with cooler air. Snotlout moans, hands blindly reaching out. "Ah—please…" he mutters. "No… not a thing. He's not!"
"What?" Hiccup leans in close. "'Not a thing'?" he murmurs. "What's not a thing, Snotlout?"
"Hookfang." Snotlout's burning face contorts. "He's not a thing. I never had a—a friend like…" He cuts off, dry-sobbing.
Hookfang brushes a wing over his feverish face and croons, bending close and licking him with infinite gentleness. Don't worry. Hush.
"No, Hookfang! I should have defended you! I'm a coward…" Snotlout sobs again.
Fishlegs fumbles the bandage in shock. "A what?" Hiccup stares as Fishlegs goes on. "I've seen you face down Outcasts, bandits, trappers, outnumbered ten to one! How can you say that?!"
Hookfang grunts, echoing Fishlegs. His claws tighten round his rider's shoulders, as if in an embrace, and he issues a long, tender purr, nuzzling Snotlout's cheek. Hiccup stares, seeing Toothless just as stunned out of the corner of his eye. If someone had told him Hookfang could sound so soft, he wouldn't have believed him. Hookfang licks Snotlout's hair and cheeks and neck as he moans desperately, "I let you down, Hooky, I'm a coward, I'm disloyal—"
"Hold it right there." Hiccup can't believe what he's hearing. "You're the most loyal person I've known."
"Hiccup," Fishlegs murmurs, gesturing for them to work as they talk.
"Okay." Hiccup takes the bandage from Fishlegs, who spreads salve thickly over Snotlout's welted and bloodied right thigh, motioning to Hiccup to follow up with the scrubbed seaweed and the bindings. "Snotlout," Fishlegs says softly as they bend to their task, "what do you mean?"
"Hookfang. He said Hookfang w's… was a thing." Snotlout slurs, choked with tears. Hiccup doesn't have to ask who 'he' was.
Fishlegs growls – straight-up growls. Hiccup raises his head in alarm.
"He said he couldn't feel!" Snotlout moans. "He said Hookfang—he said my Hooky –w-was like—like a mace or a sword and…" Snotlout's breath catches on a sob, eyes fever-bright and unfocused, "…and I should have stood up for Hookfang but I was already gonna get it so bad…" Snotlout shivers, choking on the rest of his sentence. He tries to breathe again, but it's uneven and hitching.
Fishlegs and Hookfang growl in unison. Toothless rumbles at Hiccup's side. Hiccup can only stare, stricken.
"..and I didn't want to get punished more and I'm a coward. I'm a coward…" Hookfang groans and shakes his head, bussing Snotlout's cheek and licking him lovingly. Snotlout whimpers and his hand twitches, clearly wanting to reach for his dragon but too weak to move, another sob racking his chest. "I'm so sorry, Hooky, I let you down," he babbles through his tears, enough heat radiating off him to worry Hookfang. "I didn't stand up for you. I don't deserve you…"
Hookfang turns his head upwards and lets out a blast of flame, creating a decent-sized hole in the roof that's still smoldering around the edges. Hiccup sighs, not blaming Hookfang for his anger. Gods know, his own chest feels tight and his hands ache with the need to do something. "Toothless? Can you get Meatlug to put that out?"
The Night Fury slips out. Hookfang is nuzzling Snotlout, purring and licking, his normally neutral eye-bulbs wide with love and sorrow. You didn't let me down. You did the right thing. I wouldn't want you to be hurt more. I don't care what any human thinks of me. Except you. Only you, little brother. Only you. Hiccup can practically understand every word, and clearly so can Snotlout, who's clinging to Hookfang's snout as best he can with his injuries, half-sobbing, "I'm sorry, Fangster, I'm so sorry, you're not a thing or a mace or a sword, I shouldn't have let him say that," and being comforted by his dragon partner.
Eventually, Snotlout drifts into a feverish doze, Hookfang's chin still pressed against his cheek, the dragon still crooning to him. With tight, jerky movements, Fishlegs snips off the final bandage and sets his equipment down. Then he rises, fists clenched, and turns away from their work-station. He takes a few paces away, and Hiccup can see his chest rise and fall in deliberate, deep breaths, hands opening and closing at his sides.
It takes Fishlegs several moments to get his rage under control. "The bandages," he begins unsteadily, "can stay on for two or three days." He takes a deep breath. "His fever's high, and it's going to get higher." Fishlegs looks directly into the Nightmare's eye-bulbs. "He's gonna need you. Keep up the ice and the licking. He might talk or move around, but just keep cooling him. We'll be here in shifts day and night."
The dragon nods and licks his rider's forehead. Then he runs his tongue lightly over Snotlout's shoulders and upper arms. Like this? he quarks.
"Yes, like that. He might move around," Fishlegs doesn't look too happy, "or, uh, thrash about. Heat can do that to humans. If he does, will you be able to hold him down to keep him from hurting himself?"
Hookfang nods, demonstrating by folding his wings around the patient. "Yeah, that's good." The dragon reopens his wings, purring deeply and giving his rider another lick. "Yes. That's perfect. The purring will calm him down. Keep doing that and the ice, and the licking. Hiccup and I can take over while you're sleeping."
The Nightmare opens his eyes wide in an exaggerated stare. Won't sleep. I'll watch over him.
"You need sleep, Hookfang," Hiccup instructs. "Toothless and I are here, Fishlegs is here, Meatlug's keeping watch at the door. Get some rest, you'll need it."
Hookfang nods seriously. "Come on, let's get him comfortable," Fishlegs instructs. Their Night Fury nurse croons and noses another cotton quilt into Hiccup's hands. "Perfect."
Hookfang lifts his partner while the humans spread out the fresh bedding, then carefully lowers Snotlout onto his underbelly, arranging him onto his least-injured side and tucking him into the soft seam where wing meets stomach. It's like coming home.
Hookfang smiles at them and sighs. One by one, his wings fold themselves over his sleeping rider. Hookfang starts to lick the tuft of hair protruding above his wings, and the room is filled with the sound of Nightmare purring.
Hiccup inhales deeply. "I'll take first watch."
Oh, Snotlout. Oh, partner, my little brother, my dear one.
Hookfang can breathe now. Snotlout is right here with him where he belongs, resting warm and safe on Hookfang's tummy. He's shivering and mumbling and sick, but he's here where Hookfang and his humans can comfort him and soothe him and tend his wounds and keep him safe. A tiny frown appears on Snotlout's forehead; Hookfang wraps his wings around the warm, welcome weight on his chest, and purrs to him, hoping to soothe his dreams. Oh, little brother. I shouldn't have left you alone.
It wasn't fun to watch the humans care for his partner, but he let them. Hookfang allowed it, not because of Toothless' command, but because he stands by what he said: Snotlout needs his own kind. They can care for his soft, fragile human skin, they can lower the heat that is health and life to a dragon but danger and death to a human, they can use herbs and plants to ease his pain and heal his wounds. They can bring him water and ice and care for him, they can do what needs to be done.
Snotlout groans in his sleep and the sound claws into Hookfang's chest. His inner fire threatens to choke him as he sees Snotlout's face contort in pain. He recalls how Snotlout called himself a coward—and believed it. Hookfang's little brother is courageous, selfless, with a great heart, but his sire has convinced him he's ignoble. Hookfang lets out a rumble, aching to flame, to roar, to destroy. It's what he's built for, it's what he's made for. If he let his skin flare up, if he set this room alight, it might unblock the weight that stops his breath.
The warm – beloved – weight on his underbelly would never survive that. So Hookfang tamps his flame. He croons and shifts Snotlout's position, hoping to make it hurt less. His heart-fire burns with tenderness. Annoying, relentless scenes keep running through his head of all the times he was late catching Snotlout, the times he hurt him. The times he was proud, the times he was stubborn.
He replaces the iced towel and uses his wings to fan his feverish rider, stroking his little human face with his tongue. I'm here, partner, I'm here. I've got you. Whatever you need, I will do. Whatever it takes, little brother.
Snotlout calms and settles with the coolness, murmuring and curling a hand round the edge of Hookfang's wing. The wildfire of protectiveness that surges through Hookfang at the touch is indescribable. A Fire-Scale's flame is nothing to it.
Hookfang licks the little hand, with love. Knowing Snotlout cannot understand dragon tongue, Hookfang still speaks to him. Don't hurt, partner. Tell me what you need. Tell me what you need and it's yours. Like I am.
He should be ashamed at these words. But it is no shame to a dragon to say what he means, and he has never meant anything more.