Hiccup tried — so desperately — to go back to his life as if everything was normal.

Stoick slipped in and out of lucidity. Sometimes he seemed completely normal, if a little tired and forgetful; other times, he was little more than a zombie, his eyes glazes, his face slack, the darkness lurking under his skin like a disease. During these periods he sat and stared off into space without seeing anything. He would say nothing to Hiccup outside of mumbled, distant responses. It was like talking to a robot, then; like Stoick knew the words, but not the meaning behind them. He just repeated.

Hiccup tried to talk Stoick out of these slumps, with no success.

Saturday morning was okay; when Hiccup woke up and stumbled downstairs, his father had already made break and was in a pleasant mood. He'd even forgotten about their fight. He served Hiccup bacon and pancakes and laughed at how sleepy Hiccup looked.

But by the time Hiccup returned home from the library that evening, Stoick was bad again, slouched in one of the kitchen chairs with his eyes peeled wide and unseeing.

"Dad?" Hiccup flicked the kitchen lights on. His heart sank into his stomach as he saw the washed-out expression on Stoick's face. "Dad? I'm home."

No answer.

"DAD!" In a rush of anger and panic, Hiccup slammed his hand down on the table, palm flat, and the resounding bang echoed through the tiny kitchen.

Stoick startled awake with a jerk. "Oh…" He rubbed at his eye with one hand. "I didn't notice ye, Hiccup. Just driftin' off, I guess."

He didn't say anything about Hiccup's sudden outburst. Had he even noticed?

Some of the horror that had been rising in Hiccup drained away as he let out a relieved sigh. At least he'd been able to pull Stoick out of it. He shook out his hand, which stung now, and scraped it through his hair, giving his father a tired smile. "Sorry."

"S'fine. But shouldn't ye be gettin' to work? It's Saturday, yea?" Stoick's eyes were bloodshot and shadowed, and his skin had a weird unhealthy, greyish tint.

Hiccup swallowed and moved his eyes away. "It's a little later than that, Dad. I just got back from work."

With a flat chuckle, Stoick stood up. "Must've lost track of time."

Hiccup just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Toothless, sensing Hiccups distress as he wound around Hiccup's ankles, mewed and places a paw on his knee.

Stoick didn't get better the next day.

The next day, Hiccup escaped the house before he could run into his father and confront what was wrong with him. He was grateful to go back to his volunteer work at the library, grateful to get out of his silent, hollow-feeling house into a place filled with a more sacred type of quiet.

The familiar sorting, piling, and stacking of books comforted and soothed Hiccup. He buried himself in the task. In the solid weight of them in his hands. The dull thud they made when he dropped them into piles. The ca-thunk when he slid them into the shelves. The smell of old pages and dust. Hiccup took a deep breath in, and back out, letting his worry drain out of him.

His mind drifted, so it took him a while to notice that the library fey were watching him.

A small row of pixies gathered on a shelf high overhead, their little legs swinging off the ledge, their whispering voices like faint silver bells as they leaned forward to watch him. Several willow-the-wisps drifted out from between the books to peer at him before they disappeared again. A short, fat creature like a toad watched him from the shadows at the end of the stack, its eyes glimmering.

It was a new level of watchfulness that the fey have never had for him before, and it was unnerving. The skin on the back of his neck prickled and his hands went cold as he struggled to stay calm, sliding books onto shelves like he hadn't noticed them. He wished Astrid could've been there to keep him company, but she'd probably wait a couple more week before trying to sneak in with him again.

At the end of his shift he got a surprise, a surprisingly pleasant one.

From where he was, sequestered in the back of the stacks, he couldn't hear people come in. But he could hear the familiar pattern of little pitter-patter feet coming toward him, and then see a fuzzy black tail come bobbing into sight.

Toothless sat himself down right at Hiccup's feet and stared up at him. "Merrrrr," he greeted him.

"What—"

Right behind Toothless, Jack sauntered down the aisle, hands tucked into his hoodie, grinning all over his fey face. Jack was carrying a rolled-up piece of old yellowed paper under one arm, and the other fey lurking around vanished at the sight of him. A wave of something calm and quiet washed over Hiccup when he saw both Toothless and Jack.

"Hey," said Jack. He took a deep breath and looked around. "Aaaaaahhh, this feels familiar. Seems like just yesterday I was in here yelling and throwing things at you as you ignored me."

"That was last week."

Jack's gaze scraped over Hiccup. "You're okay," he said, a strange sort of satisfaction in his eyes.

Hiccup leaned against the bookshelf. The solid wood pressing into his arm grounded him. Behind his back, he curled the fingers of one hand under the edge of the shelf, digging his nails into the wood seam, getting wood pulp under them. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Jack's crooked grin grew wider. "I was kinda afraid, with the Fearlings after you…"

When Hiccup gave no response except to sink into silence, Jack's grin faltered.

"…you are fine, right?"

"They got to my dad," said Hiccup.

Jack's face glazed over with anger. He lowered his head, exhaled angrily through his nose, and pushed a hand through his wild white hair, rubbing his forehead harshly. "Did they infect him?"

"Is that what it is? It's like he's half dead."

"I'm sorry." There was a lick of fear in Jack's eyes when he looked at Hiccup, a pleading note in his voice. "I didn't meant to — If I hadn't —"

"Don't." Hiccup's voice came out hoarse. He'd already been through this once. Now he didn't want to think about it; he didn't have it in himself anymore to hate Jack for what he'd brought into Hiccup's life, not now, not with knowing everything that Jack must deal with on a regular basis, what Jack must have dealt with for years. And it wasn't like chaos wasn't always a part of Hiccup's life.

Hiccup was starting to feel quavering and unsteady. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth to hide the expression on his face. His thoughts were crawling down a dark path, leading to things he didn't want to think about.

Jack's hand on his forearm startled him out of it. "If you really do get me memories back for me," said Jack, his voice rough and low as he leaned in toward Hiccup, "I'll get your dad back for you. Promise. Even if you can't, I'll do everything I can to fix it."

Hiccup's face went hot, a strange contrast to the chill seeping through his sleeve where Jack's hand rested. "Okay." Hiccup meant to sound strong and confident — instead his voice came out soft and breathy, more like a gasp for air. He snatched his arm away.

A slow exhalation, breath seeping out of his lungs, and he relaxed once again, rubbing at the cold spot on his forearm. He set his mouth and straightened his shoulders: they had things to do. They were going to fix this, like Jack said. Somehow, he trusted Jack, trusted that Jack would do the best to honor his word. Jack never meant to get Hiccup's life this fucked up, but sometimes, that was the way life went.

"Okay," he said again, steady this time. He kept his voice hushed, though the patron in the next aisle can undoubtedly hear him anyway. "But what are you doing here? I thought you were going to meet me at my house."

"Toothless brought me to meet you."

"Brought…you…?"

"Yeah." Jack smiled down at the cat and bent to scratch his ear, but Toothless dodged his outstretched fingers. "I went to your house, and he was sitting on the roof like he was waiting for me. So I followed him here."

"Too smart for your own good." Hiccup, stifling a smile, picked up Toothless and set him on the book cart, avoiding the cat's attempts to grab his face and scent-mark him. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Ours." Jack rubbed his foot against his shin. "Should I wait outside?"

"No, I'm coming."

Hiccup stored the rest of the unsorted books in the back room for later. Jack followed Hiccup home in silence; not an angry or awkward silence, just a silence filled with contentment. It was the first time they'd been like that (while they were both awake), and Hiccup wasn't sure what to think of it.

He broke the silence halfway home. "So, there have been lot of the folk watching me."

Jack hadn't been paying attention, absorbed in his own thoughts. He started and looked round at Hiccup. "Er, what? Haven't they always?"

"There's a lot more." Hiccup fixed Jack with a look, trying to pin him down because he could tell Jack wanted to slide out of this conversation. "Like they're paying special attention to me now, and following me. Any idea why that might be, Jack?"

As if to prove his point, he glanced back at the humanoid faery that had begun to trail them half a block behind since they'd left the library. It froze in it's tracks when he glared at it, and turned around to go the other way.

"Ah." Jack rubbed the back of his head, leaving his hair a mess. "That's…that might be because they've probably heard of you."

"…heard of me."

"Yeah." With a resigned huff, Jack lowered his hand. "They may have heard about what happened between me and Pitch. Now everybody knows I have a human here in Berk."

"Hold up, have me? You don't have me—"

"Have a human helping me," Jack amended in a rush, but a splash of frosty pink appeared on his cheeks. His shoulders bunched up guiltily and he gave Hiccup a quick sideways look before turning his head away. A snickering sound came from a hedge they were passing, and Hiccup caught a glimpse of tiny golden wings before the fey hidden there scurried away.

They reached Hiccup's house with no more words between them.

"Meet me upstairs," he muttered to Jack as they trekked up the driveway. Jack, obedient, leapt up to the second story as Hiccup went in the front door. He made his obligatory "I'm home" call, which goes unanswered, and slipped away to his room. He got only a brief look of his father's shadow, slumped over at the kitchen table, and tried not to look at it too hard.

With Toothless on his heels, he opened his window and let Jack in.

Jack lingered on the window sill, looking around with wide, reverent eyes and leaving a light pattern of frost on the wood, before stretching his legs down and alighting on the floor. He had a bright look on his face, a mixture of delight, awe, and hopefulness.

"What?"

"I like being in here," Jack said. He turned, running his fingertips across Hiccups' bookshelf and desk.

"You were in here three days ago. Bleeding all over the place, I might add."

Jack snorted at that. "Sorry," he said, looking not at all sorry. "Invited in here, I mean." He plopped down on the bed, curling his fingers into Hiccup's askew blankets. "I've never been invited into a human dwelling before. Hundreds of years…"

Hiccup hovered in the middle of his room, somehow the awkward one despite this being his house. He had the feeling of wanting to impress Jack with it. He shoved the feeling away. "How old are you?" he asked instead.

"I don't know." With a grimace, Jack tapped the side of his head. "Old, I guess."

"And yet still so immature." With Jack sputtering in indignation — which felt good, having Jack be the one wrong-footed for once — Hiccup moved to clear his desk. "Okay, tell me what we're doing."

Muttering to himself, Jack approached and unrolled the paper across the desk.

It was a map. It took Hiccup a moment to decipher it, to realize that the sprawling lines were hallways and rooms. The paper was thick and heavy; it left an oily residue on his fingers when he touched it. The two of them leaned over it together, Hiccup peering at it closely in wonder.

"This is a map of the Shadow Court. Aaaaaand," said Jack, rubbing his hands together with an excited grin. "I have something that will get us into it. Something to help us get the memories."

Hiccup glanced up at him wryly. "You mean something other than me."

"Very funny. Yes, something other than you." Jack pulled something else out of his pocket and presented it to Hiccup with a flourish, bowing low with his hand outstretched.

Two clear glass globes glimmered in reflected light from the window, small enough that they both fit in Jack's hand. A gold band circled each one.

Hiccup blinked in confusion and picked one up. It was cool and smooth to the touch. "Snow…globes."

"Yes! I got them from a friend who owed me a favor."

Jack didn't seem to be getting Hiccup's confusion, so Hiccup had to ask. "Okay. What are we supposed to with snow globes?"

"Oh! Right. Think of a place and give it a shake."

The shadow court came into his mind — it has been on his mind a lot lately, thought he had no idea what it looked like. He pictured something like a castle, but darker. He shook the globe, and, in his hand, something inside it glittered and churned. An image of darkened hallways and tree roots reaching into the earth like ravenous hands appeared. "Whoa."

Jack leaned against the desk and tapped his finger to Hiccup's globe. "They create doorways to wherever you're thinking of when you break them. You can only use it once, though. I've got one to get us there, one to get us back.

Hiccup tore his gaze away and looked up at Jack, enchanted. "So these can go anywhere?"

"Anywhere that occurs to you. But the court—"

"Where do they come from?"

Jack frowned at him. "They're a powerful spell, and no, I don't know it. Like I said, I got them from someone else. We just need them to get into and out of the shadow court."

Hiccup pinched his mouth together, his eyes falling back to the map, stretched out before him and waiting. Reluctantly, he handed the globe back to Jack. "Okay. Tell me about the court."

There were so many hallways and rooms, so many lines and dots and squares and squiggles. Hiccup couldn't believe what he was looking at; how many years had he known about the fey? But he never knew they came from somewhere, and now he did, and he had a map of it, and he was about to know so much more. He could make out a throne room, antechambers, storage rooms, living quarters. The court was tangled web of rooms, hallways, halls, gardens, caves, and other things that aren't clear on the map, and Hiccup was fascinated.

As they both leaned in further to stare at it, Jack's hair tickled Hiccup's forehead. The air between them mingled, cold and warm.

"It's so big," whispered Hiccup. He glanced up at Jack. He was startled to see Jack right there, so close that he could see the shadows cast by his eyelashes and the faint freckles dotted across Jack's nose that he'd never noticed before. His lashes were as pale as his hair, a striking contrast to his dark blue eyes.

Jack grinned at Hiccup and didn't move away. Hiccup felt his face heat up.

"Um."

Uncomfortable, he straightened up, creating a little more space between them. "I never thought there was… there must be so many of you. It's like a city on its own, a second city right near Berk."

Jack cleared his throat. "Yeah, basically, that's what it is." His face darkened. He looked away from Hiccup, hitching one shoulder up and rubbing at the back of his neck.

Most of us were banished here, Jack had said. That meant Jack must have left behind something. Did he have friends in the court? Did he have a family? "Probably nicer than this tiny human town," he offered, but Jack shook his head.

"No. It's not. Not at all."

"Oh."

"I would a million times rather be here, if it weren't — I mean, if I had my memories, even with all the metal around here."

"You mean if you were free?"

Jack's eyes cut to Hiccup sharply. "Yeah."

"Did you have friends in the court?"

"No," said Jack, to Hiccup's surprise. "I was… I never…" But here his voice faltered, and he lost his train of thought. He rubbed at his forehead for a moment, looking lost, opening and closing his mouth a little, then blurted out. "I don't remember."

"You don't…remember anything?"

Jack said nothing to that, merely shifted between his feet and looked uncomfortable.

Hiccup's resolved hardened. He fumbled in his pencil cup and pulled out a pencil, twirling it between his fingers so fast it was a blur. A tiny grin pulled at the corners of Jack's mouth as he watched Hiccup's hands.

"Where are the memories?"

Back to the task at hand, the both leaned in once more, all their awkwardness forgotten. "There are a couple of places I think they're most likely to be," said Jack, tracing a finger along the map. "Here, in one of these storage rooms where Pitch keeps things like trophies and spoils. Or," he paused, his finger moving to the largest room in the center, and took a deep breath, "here, in the great hall, where he spends nearly all of his time. With him."

Hiccup winced. "Do you think he carries them about with him?"

"I don't know," admitted Jack. "I really hope not. Either way, we'll check these outer rooms first. We're less likely to be discovered there. We won't go into the great hall unless we have to."

"What do memories look like? How will I know when I've found them?"

"It'll be obvious." At Hiccup's worried expression, Jack struggled to explain better. "Look, your Sight is gonna do some pretty strange stuff that I don't know how to explain. You'll be able to tell a lot about things. Just trust me."

Hiccup just hummed doubtfully. He looked at the map again, nervous, worrying at his lower lip. "What," he began, coughed, and began again, "what will the court be like?"

"Well." Jack chose his words carefully here. "There are some, uh, festivities going on this time of year, so it's unusually crowded. But, nearly all of the fey will be in one room, the great hall. Everywhere else should be almost deserted. I really hope we can find them somewhere, and that Pitch doesn't keep them on himself, or else we'll have to go in there."

Hiccup opened his mouth to say something, but Jack interrupted him.

"You'll be okay," he added. "In the crowds no one will pay attention to you. It'll be too confusing. If anybody notices you, they'll just think you're a fey like them."

Hiccup thought about going into a crowd of nothing but faeries, and his stomach knotted, but he gave Jack a tight, small smile. "When do we start?"

Jack's relieved smile lit up his face, brilliant as winter sunlight. "Up to you."

"I want to get this over with as soon as possible." Hiccup tried to keep his voice firm. He didn't want any of his anxiety, worry, excitement he felt to stain his voice, but he had the feeling a little leaked through when Jack gave him a sympathetic wince. The sooner he fixed Jack, the sooner Jack could fix Stoick. "Can we go tonight?"

"Yeah, sure—" A creak on the stairs cut Jack off. His eyes went to Hiccup's door. Hiccup froze, too. Heavy footsteps ascended the staircase. Hiccup glanced at Jack in alarm and the look on Jack's face made whatever Hiccup was going to say next get stuck in his throat.

"I gotta go," Jack whispered.

"It's just my dad," Hiccup whispered back, "and he can't hear you. You'll be fine." But he wasn't sure at all about that last part; he only hoped it was true. Whatever Pitch had done to Stoick…Hiccup didn't know what that meant. If Stoick could see or hear Jack…

Jack shook his head. "I'll come back for you tonight." Quick a snowflake, he pecked Hiccup on the top of his head and was gone out the window, leaving nothing behind except quiet and cold air and Hiccup with his heart beating wildly, staring after Jack in confusion.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I told you I'd be back soon with a better, longer update! And here it is, as promised.