At first, the Doctor didn't understand why Hiccup had acted so strangely. Sure, they had landed in a parallel universe, but that didn't mean much to him. Yet Hiccup was staring at the house they had landed in front of - a modest two story home surrounded by trees - like he had found the Holy Grail (in the Doctor's opinion, bit of a let-down). When a woman in faded jeans hopped out the front door and began to water the flowers, Hiccup's knees buckled. He just sat there, on the street in front of the TARDIS, staring. The woman gave him a few perplexed glances, but otherwise continued in her work.
"Hiccup, she's not that impressive."
"Okay, okay, very nice, things to see!"
"It's not a very pretty house, is it?"
"Thank goodness she's watering the flowers. I can't stand dead flowers."
"Alright, Hiccup, get up!"
Nothing worked. Hiccup didn't move. He barely blinked.
And then the Doctor's eyes drifted to Hiccup's shoe. Then it all made sense.
The shoe was old, scruffy from years of use. There were dirt stains all over it and the laces were grimy from all Hiccup's adventures. The Doctor didn't question Hiccup's fashion sense (he would never get over that ridiculous scarf he used to wear) but he did question why Hiccup had kept the second one after his … accident. Plus, Hiccup frequently cleaned the blasted things. They weren't even nice shoes!
But the woman was wearing the exact same pair. Less grimy, less beaten, but the same pair. And that was when the Doctor remembered what Hiccup had said, eventually, about this one precious pair of shoes.
"They … they were my mother's."
"Oh."
The Doctor could see the similarities. The lean figure and forest green eyes were definitely common traits in the two, and the Doctor could see a trace of Hiccup's jerky, awkward motions in her more graceful movement.
"She left. One day she just left."
Sometimes the Doctor wondered why so many of his more recent companions had lost a parent. Donna and Rose had lost their fathers, Clara her mother, and Amy, at one point, had lost both her parents.
"The police found her car, with me in it, and there were signs of a struggle, but she was gone."
All the Doctor could do was rest an arm on Hiccup's shoulder. "It's alright," he said. For once, he couldn't think of anything to say. A lot of quantum physics came to mind, but that wouldn't help.
A loud cry came from the kitchen, and the Doctor instinctively reached for his sonic. But the woman sighed, tossed a strand of frizzy auburn hair out of her eyes, and called, "I'm coming, sweetheart. Wait for your mother!"
"I was a baby, and she was gone."
Hiccup's torso stiffened as the woman retreated into the house. Less than a moment later, she appeared-
With a small, skinny baby on her hip.
Hiccup's breath stopped and the Doctor could only stare.
"My little Hiccup," the woman crooned softly, straightening the dragon shirt the baby was wearing. "Did you have a bad dream again?"
She swept her hand across the yard and wrapped both arms around the baby, her forehead resting against his.
"Daddy will be home soon. Do you miss Daddy?" The baby smiled widely at his mother.
"She's alive." Hiccup's voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the pain was easily distinguishable.
The Doctor couldn't let him think that. Though it pained his hearts, he bent down and whispered, "That's not your mother, Hiccup. That's another person very similar to your mother. But she's not … yours."
Hiccup's voice cracked as he replied, "But she's alive! She never left. She's still here." Suddenly he jerked to face the Doctor. "Take me forward."
The Doctor knew almost instantly, but he couldn't process it. "What?"
"I want to go forward in time." Hiccup spoke with a desperate urgency. "Please."
"Hiccup-"
"I need to know he gets a happy ending!" Hiccup's voice rose, and the woman cast a worried glance their way. The Doctor gave her an awkward smile. But Hiccup had him by the shirt collar suddenly. The Doctor looked at him. He just wanted a happy ending in some universe. It didn't matter which one.
"It won't make you feel better," the Doctor whispered.
"I don't care." Hiccup spoke with iron in his voice.
There was a pause.
"Alright," the Doctor said, sighing. He knew what was coming. But still he repeated, "Alright."
