A/N – Oh, look at this, a timely update two weeks in a row? That's the fun part of working ahead. I can't say the same for my others stories, sadly. I aimed to update all of them, but I spent much of this past weekend in bed. So…let's aim for sometimes this week or next weekend for those.

Thanks a ton for being awesome readings and supporting me and this story. You're all worth a bank vault of gold!

X

Chapter 10

"Hiccup?" Fishlegs asked.

"Yeah?" Hiccup rubbed is face. It felt like he hadn't slept in days. "I'm alright. It's fine."

"No, it is most certainly not fine," Fishlegs argued.

A small throb started on the side of his head.

Hiccup asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Hiccup, I've been following you around the house for three hours," Fishlegs said, holding up three fingers. "You haven't looked at me…you… you haven't heard a word I've said; it's like you're sleep walking. Are you okay? You know, you might be having some sort of brain spasm or seizure. I think it's worth looking into, alright? What if it's some form of brain cancer?"

"Fishlegs, I'm fine," Hiccup said, waving away his concerns. "It's these…crossings that're getting to me."

"That's where you went?" Fishlegs said.

"Yeah…you know, let's get a cup of coffee, and I'll tell you what happened this time," Hiccup said. It might help him sort it out, too.

They retreated into the kitchen where Hiccup tried his best to explain what had happened, while making coffee, to Fishlegs, who, despite his efforts, tried to hold onto his worry despite his excitement.

"I know how awesome this sort of thing is," Fishlegs said, "Trust me, I'm really happy about this, but at the same time, Hiccup, it's obviously not doing you any good. When's the last time you ate?"

"Uh…"

"Exactly," Fishlegs said. "It's draining you physically and emotionally. I think you should take a break for a while."

"From the crossings?"

"Yes," Fishlegs said. "It's…frightening to walk into a room and you're just sitting there, or standing, just staring, unfocused and glassy-eyed at nothing. You won't answer or speak or acknowledge my presence. It's just…it's freaky, alright? It's worse than walking into a room and finding a ghost hanging out."

"I'm sorry…I-I don't know how," Hiccup said. "It just happens. I can't control when I go or when I come back. I could be doing nothing, like fixing coffee, or waking up, or walking down the stairs, and then boom, I'm back in 1862 or whenever."

Fishlegs didn't know what to say. Over his shoulder, in the foyer, Astrid appeared. She leaned against the doorway. Her hand graced the wooden frame, and Hiccup could see each of her delicate fingers. She looked more real than she ever had, even though he could still see the banister through her.

"Each time I go back, I can see her clearer," Hiccup said, looking at Astrid.

"Astrid Hofferson?" Fishlegs asked.

Hiccup nodded. "Each time I go back, I get closer."

"Closer to what?"

"The day she died," Hiccup said, unable to take his eyes off her. "I'll find out what happened. I know there is more to the story than what I've read. She didn't kill herself, Fishlegs."

"I believe you," he said. "Wholeheartedly, but, Hiccup, maybe you should slow down. Take time to do some research or something… just, take an afternoon and get out of the house. You had something to look up at the library in town, right?"

Did he? Hiccup thought back, and it took a moment. Astrid, standing in the doorway, mouthed a name.

"Eret," Hiccup repeated.

"That's the one," Fishlegs said. "Do you think he had something to do with her death?"

Hiccup looked at Astrid for the answer. She shrugged. Hiccup said, "I don't know. She doesn't either."

Fishlegs's enthused face slackened. He said quietly, "Is she here?" He strained to see what Hiccup saw. "Is that what you're looking at?"

"Yeah."

"I don't see her. Wait, is that her, there in the doorway? I can see something, but the sun's too bright. You see her clearly?"

"I can see her like she's nearly a living person," Hiccup said. "When I go back, I can hear her… I-I didn't use to. It was like being underwater, but now… I can. It's like I'm standing there with her."

"I think we should go to the library this afternoon," Fishlegs said suddenly.

Hiccup blinked. He took his attention off Astrid and looked at Fishlegs. He said, "What? Why today?"

"Hiccup," Fishlegs said firmly. "You need to get out of the house."

"No, I'm good. I'll go tomorrow," Hiccup said.

Fishlegs sighed, and said, "Maybe we should have lunch with Heather. I think it would be a good idea to mention these…dreams of yours to her. Maybe she's heard of someone else who's had them, or of someone that knows about them."

"No," Hiccup said. "I don't want to tell Heather. I don't want this to be breaking news in the paranormal community. Have you mentioned anything to her?"

"No," Fishlegs said. "I promised you I wouldn't, and I haven't. But I am suggesting, for your best interest, that you look into some fresh air."

Astrid had entered the kitchen. Her feet padded against the tile floor. She walked to Hiccup's side, placed a cold hand on his arm, and nodded. She mouthed the word, "Go."

"You sure?" Hiccup asked.

She nodded.

"What?" Fishlegs asked, looking between them. "What did she say?"

"She wants me to go," Hiccup said.

"Like…go as in leave? Move out?"

Astrid's hand squeezed his arm. She shook her head.

"No," Hiccup said. "Just for some fresh air, like you said."

She nodded.

Fishlegs sighed, but his worry remained.

X

Hiccup, after a shower and shave, drove into town with Fishlegs. While he finagled a lunch date with Heather, Hiccup retreated to the library's historical section in search of anyone by the name of Eret. It took lengthy research into old court documents, property holders, and tax records, but he finally came across the name on an old marriage certificate from 1882, two years after Astrid's death.

Eret Walker had married Charlotte Mays on June 21st.

Had that been Astrid's Eret? She said he'd stayed in town.

He'd married after her death. Had he had a hand in it? Hiccup listened to his gut, but it was being remarkably silent. He didn't dislike Eret, but he didn't particularly like him, either.

Eret Walker appeared again on a death certificate from 1938. He'd been at the ripe old age of eighty-six. His wife had died four years later. They'd have four children together. His grandson, Robert K. Walker, (eighty-three) still lived in town.

Would Robert Walker have anything to add to Eret's story? It was worth a shot, he supposed.

"Hiccup?" Fishlegs whisper-yelled.

"I'm in here," Hiccup whispered back.

Fishlegs came around the corner, phone in hand. He said, "We've got food plans with Heather in about an hour and a half."

"Cool."

"What have you found?"

"Eret got married and later died," Hiccup said. "According to these, his grandson should still be alive, Robert Walker."

Just then, the older librarian walked into the room. She said in her naturally silent voice, "You talking about old Robert Walker?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Hiccup said. "Do you know him?"

"I know him, yes," she said. "We were sweethearts a ways back."

"Do you know where I can find him?"

"Somewhere in Florida," she said. "He joined the senior citizen migration a few years ago and bought one of those condos down there."

"Oh," Hiccup said. There went that lead.

"Why? What do you need from him?"

Hiccup explained to her about Eret Walker.

"Oh, one of his relatives?" she asked. She glanced at Hiccup's research. He didn't try to hide it from her. She'd been a massive help in the start of the Hofferson project. "I think I remember that name. Eret was a bit of a family story, you see, and Robert loved telling stories. He told me once that his grandpap, this man here, this Eret fellow, came out of nowhere. Says he was a Confederate spy during the war, but he didn't have anything to prove it, and when the war ended he stayed with the north because they won."

"That's interesting," Hiccup said. Could that young boy really have been a confederate spy?

"Interesting, but probably not the truth," she said. "Or, it might have been the one story he had that was true. It's impossible to tell from this spot in time."

"His father might have been a spy," Hiccup said, thinking back to Eret's father. He'd worn a Union uniform, though.

"That's also likely," she said. "We were right on the line, you see, some places were a stone's throw away from the Confederate states. We had more scrapes between people than people like to admit to."

Someone rang the bell on the librarian's desk.

"Thank you," Hiccup said.

"Any time," she said, shuffling toward the desk.

"So, what do you think?" Fishlegs asked, sitting down across from Hiccup.

"I think I know as much as I did when I walked in here," Hiccup said. "I found legend and lore, not fact."

Fishlegs dropped his voice, and said, "Do you think Astrid would be able to answer those questions?"

"Maybe," Hiccup said.

"Maybe she found out he was a spy, and he killed her," Fishlegs said.

"In 1880? The war had been over for fifteen years."

"Maybe she had dirt on him? He did live in her house."

"I don't know," Hiccup said. It didn't make a lot of sense to him. Did he want Eret to have something to do with her death so he could have a reason to dislike him?

Just then, Fishlegs's phone beeped. A new message appeared across the screen. His face fell.

"Heather?"

He read the message and quickly typed a short response. He said, "Something came up. She can't make it." A new message popped up. Fishlegs read, "But tomorrow looks good."

"Sounds good," Hiccup said.

"Sounds…good," Fishlegs said as he thumbed in the text.

X

Hiccup returned home with his pitiful notes. What was happening? He used to be able to spend hours in the library and come home with pages of notes, names, dates, possible ties, and yet, he hadn't been able to focus long enough to find anything more than a marriage and a death on Eret.

Maybe Fishlegs was right. Maybe this house was draining him.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. He rubbed his face. But what could he do about it? He couldn't leave. He couldn't stop the crossings. Truthfully, he didn't want to stop them.

"What do you mean he's dead?"

Hiccup snapped up; the house had changed again. Standing in the foyer was Randal and Jacob Hofferson. Mrs. Hofferson stood against the banister, looking ashen-faced.

"He snuck off in the middle of the night," Mrs. Hofferson said weakly. "I didn't know or I would have stopped him."

Randal wobbled into the sitting room and collapsed into a chair. "My boy, my son, gone? That fool of a child. I told him war was not a game! He didn't listen and now look at him! Dead! Both my boys…"

"Who's that?" Astrid's chime came from the back of the house. Hiccup entered the foyer just in time to see her set a bucket down in the kitchen.

Randal jumped to his feet, and said, "Is that my little girl?"

Astrid ran into the sitting down. She squealed at the sight of her father and uncle, and jumped into her father's arms.

"Look at you! You're almost a grown woman!"

"She's got a few more years," said her mother.

"How old are you now? Eighteen? Twenty?"

Astrid giggled. "I'm ten!"

"Of course!" Randal said, pretending to be ashamed. "Just ten. You're twice as tall as the last time I saw you!"

Eret came into the house through the kitchen, carrying a bucket similar to Astrid's. He set it down beside hers and came sheepishly into the hallway.

Randal spotted him, and his smiled faded. "Who's this now?"

"This is Eret," Mrs. Hofferson said. "His father stayed here while wounded. He didn't make it."

"Ah," Randal said, as if it all made sense to him. "Well, I guess it's good to know that you had a man in the house while we were gone."

"Someone had to chop wood and clear out the snakes," Eret said.

Randal laughed and slapped Eret on the shoulder. "Aye, I suppose someone does."

Hiccup watched Randal walk into his study, and then he'd gone. All the Hofferson's, and Eret, had gone; Hiccup stood in his study in 2016.

He decided on a cup of coffee, but when he got to the kitchen, he found his coffee pot gone. He spun around to see Eret and Randal walking into the office. Hiccup followed. Randal looked healthier than he had the last time Hiccup had seen him. Eret looked taller and thicker. His hair had reached halfway between his shoulder blades. He no longer looked like a boy. He might have been sixteen or seventeen.

"I've gotten you a job in town," Randal said.

"It's not with horses, is it, Sir?"

Randal laughed, and said, "No. It's at the train station. It's a bit of a hard job, but you're a strong young man, Eret. You're smart, too. You work hard for a few years, prove your strength, then you prove your mind, and you'll be the top of the chain in no time at all."

"What's at the top of the chain?"

"Power, money," Randal said. "Enough to provide good security for a family. A nice home. Nice things."

Eret nodded, and said, "Of course."

"These things don't entice you?"

"No, no, they do, it's just…I'll have to live in town, won't I?"

"Ah," Randal said. He nodded in a fatherly fashion. "It's a long walk here to town every day. Even by horse it's a long ride. Too long. But don't you worry. I've got a cousin who owns a few apartments in town. I won't toss you into the streets, my boy. I'll make sure you're taken care off."

"Thank you, sir."

"But, it's not the apartment or the job you're worried about?"

"Sir?"

Randal smiled. "You're keen on Astrid, aren't you?"

Eret blushed.

"It's alright, she's a fine young lady," Randal said. "You're a fine young man. Tell you what, Eret, work hard and show that you can adequately provide for a family, and I'll frighten any other suitors away."

"Thank you, sir," Eret said, unmistakably relieved.

Hiccup stood by the stairs as Eret gathered what few things he had. Randal had ordered a coach, which stood in the drive. While he gathered Eret's few things, Eret stood on the porch with Astrid. She looked older, too. She was no longer a skinny ten year old girl. She'd grown several inches into a gangly teenage girl.

"Promise you'll write," Astrid said, hand on Eret's arm.

Hiccup tried hard to quiet the jealousy that raged like heartburn.

"Every week," Eret said.

"If you don't, I'll come and find you," Astrid said. "And you'd better not be writing to any other girls."

"I would never."

"I've heard the city girls are pretty."

"Not nearly as pretty as you," he said. "Besides, those city girls are all air. There's nothing in those heads of theirs."

"Alright, we're all set," Randal called from the carriage. "Let's go Eret."

"Goodbye," Astrid said.

"Goodbye," Eret said.

He started down the stairs. Astrid held onto his arm as long as she could. Hiccup stood behind her and watched her as she watched the coach leave the drive and trot down the road and out of site. Astrid leaned onto one of the porch's posts and let out a long sigh. Hiccup tensed at the sound of heartbreak on her breath.

Eret had married someone else, Hiccup reminded himself. He half-wanted to tell Astrid that, but he didn't. She didn't need to know. He'd already messed with the timeline; any more and he might erase his own existence, or allow the Nazis to win World War II, or make it so that some lynchpin person had never done whatever it was that they'd done and the future he returned to would be messed up beyond repair.

Hiccup took a deep breath; he'd been way too into alternative histories in college.