You know the drill by now: Graphic violence, PTSD, the whole shebang. 10Blue10 is the source from whom all blessings flow. This chapter is looong. Meraki is my fave reader on FFN. Thursday26 is the world's best editor bar none and I love them.
"Hiccup? Are you in there?"
"Astrid!"
Hiccup bolts up into wakefulness, hitting his head on the underside of Toothless' chin. WATCH IT! comes the dragon admonition. "Sorry, bud! COMING, ASTRID!" He scrambles up and fumbles for his prosthetic, Toothless helping him with the leather thongs as he straps it on. Flailing and galvanized with the horror that she may get tired of waiting and barge in, Hiccup yells, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" and practically flings himself down the stairs. Three steps down, he trips over his own metal leg and nearly falls on his face. Warm black scales break his fall. Not so fast, Toothless grunts.
Hiccup tumbles over his friend's neck, then jogs past Hookfang and his human companions, scared Astrid will open the door without permission. "Oh…" he starts guiltily as he gets to the door: Meatlug is sleeping curled up tight against the wood, so no-one can get in unless she lets them. "Meatlug?"
She opens sleepy eyes and rolls to the side, allowing Hiccup to open the door. He slides it open a slit and slips out, almost slamming it on Toothless' tail as the dragon follows him. Toothless smacks him in the head with his fin, snapping hey, watch the tail! He continues dragon-lecturing, waving his tail about. You want to rip off the fin I have left?
"Sorry, bud." Hiccup bends to Toothless and brushes his cheek to the top of the dragon's head before standing to face the music. "Hi, Astrid!" Hiccup grins manically. He's reminded vividly of the time she came to him in the forge, back when he was still learning to ride Toothless. Only this time, it's not his own secret he's keeping. "Hi, Astrid," he repeats, his grin slipping a little. He hitches it up. "Hi, Astrid." He tries not to grimace with how his voice cracks on that last 'Hi, Astrid.'
Astrid leans into his face, one hand on her hip. "What are you hiding?"
"Hiding?! Me? Hiding! Why would you think I was hiding?" He shrugs in what he hopes is a show of honesty. "I mean what would I be hiding?" Hiccup inhales deeply. "I'm not Astrid anything, hiding."
Astrid's shoulders slump in resignation. "It's a new invention, isn't it." It's not a question. "Please don't tell me it's another flying machine."
Toothless grunts and rolls his eyes the way he does when Hiccup invents something dangerous. Hiccup is so grateful for the support, he could kiss the dragon. Toothless rumbles and smacks Hiccup's head with his tailfin. Now Hiccup is a little less grateful – but still grateful. He laughs, and doesn't have to fake his embarrassment. "Uh…"
"It is another flying machine!"
"No! No, it's not!" Hiccup is kicking himself. Why can't he just say yes? "But I am working on something. Something I can't show you just yet."
"I swear to Odin, Hiccup, if this ends up being something that will get you killed, that dragon," Astrid points to Toothless, who warbles who, me? "won't be able to protect you, Night Fury or no Night Fury!"
"Astrid, Astrid!" Hiccup sounds so hearty he could kick himself. "Why do you always assume the worst?"
"Because it always is the worst, with you. I ought to just go in there and—"
She takes a step forward and Toothless growls.
Toothless' eyes widen and he sits up straight. If he were human, he'd have clapped a hand over his mouth. There's no surer way to let Astrid know something is up. Hiccup wants to groan, but refrains. Toothless is supposed to be the goodliar.
Astrid stills. She glances from one to the other, arms crossing over her chest. "Okay," she says. "I'll let it go for now. But you," she glares at the dragon, "had better not be helping him find new ways to get himself killed!"
Toothless gives her his best innocent, wide-eyed warble. "Nice try," Astrid retorts. Toothless responds by turning his face up to her and gives her Cute Manipulative Look #33, complete with full-moon pupils. Hiccup's heart flutters a little in his chest to see it, but Astrid is made of sterner stuff. "We'll see," she retorts, as if Toothless has just spoken. She fixes Hiccup with a stare. "So, are we going out on our recon flight this morning, or are you working on your new mystery project?"
"Mysteryproject!" Hiccup blurts. "It should be done soon," he mumbles, wilting beneath her glare.
"Hmpf." Astrid taps her foot angrily, giving Hiccup a Look. "I'll see if Fishlegs wants to come with me."
"Ah…" Too late, Hiccup realizes he shouldn't have opened his mouth, so he closes it again. Toothless is giving him a half-lidded glare. Can't you keep your mouth shut for two minutes?
"'Ah'? 'Ah' what , Hiccup?" Hiccup bites his lip. Nope. Not saying anything. "'Ah' what ?" Nope. Not happening. "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third! 'Ah', what ?!"
"Nothing!" Hiccup gives what he hopes is a disarming smile. "Just, um! Fishlegs might… might be helping me with my project too."
"Oh." Astrid folds her arms. "Oh, I see what's going on."
Toothless chirrs uneasily, eyes flitting between them.
"You—you do?"
"Of course I do." Astrid leans in close. "You and Fishlegs get to geek out, inventing new toys, while the rest of us knock ourselves out protecting the Edge. You know what, fine," she spits, turning on her heel. "Maybe Snotlout will want to come with me," she throws behind her as she strides away.
"Uh…"
Astrid freezes, back to Hiccup. She speaks without turning. "What?" He does not like how tense her shoulders are.
"He's… actually he stayed with his, uh his dad, b—back on Berk?" Hiccup wishes everyone would turn their back on him while he's lying to them. It makes it so much easier. That sounded really plausible, he congratulates himself. Why is Toothless covering his eyes with his front paw?
"Hiccup, he wasn't on Berk." Astrid turns again to face Hiccup. Right. Oh, Thor. "He was on that Gods-forsaken island in the middle of nowhere!"
"I mean, went! Went with his dad, to Berk." Hiccup makes flying motions with his hands. Astrid keeps her glare trained on him. "To Berk… for a few days…" His voice is petering out. He gives her what he hopes is a bright smile. "Oi, oi, oi?"
Astrid's mouth narrows into a tight line. "Have it your way, Hiccup." Her eyes are piercing. "For now. But I am going to find out what's going on."
Hiccup sags with relief as Astrid stalks away, fuming. "That was close, bud," he breathes, too low for her to hear. "Thanks for the backup."
Toothless responds by nosing Hiccup up onto his back and butting the door open. Let's just relieve Fish and see how they are. He looks back where Astrid has gone and rumbles. I don't think she's going to give up that easily.
"But I thought it went well," Hiccup says, looking into his friend's green eyes. Toothless' eyelids droop and the dragon shakes his head. "…No?"
Hiccup slides off his friend's back as his eyes adjust to the dimmer interior. Fishlegs is asleep, slumped back against Meatlug's side – she must have left her post at the door when he and Toothless made their exit. Hiccup is struck by a surge of panic. Too many people. Too many dragons. Toothless croons. You okay?
Hiccup takes a deep breath. It's a bit silly to think about a violation of need-to-know in relation to the dragons, he tells himself. All the dragons have seen them arrive, and it's not like they'll be telling anyone on Berk. "Hey, Meatlug. Thanks for the guard duty," Hiccup whispers. "Shh. I'm not going to wake them."
Snotlout is lying on the side opposite to the one he fell asleep on, breathing shallowly, facing away from Fishlegs. Hookfang's wing is draped over him, pulled up to his chin; both of Snotlout's hands are wrapped around Hookfang's claw, fingers and talons intertwined in a loving tangle on the dragon's stomach.
Bright yellow Nightmare eyes blink down at him, shining in the dimness. Warmth washes over Hiccup. "Hey, Hookfang," he breathes. "You are such a good guy – uh, dragon." He smiles up at the Nightmare. "You're such a good friend to him. Thank you."
Hookfang rumbles and rolls his eyes. Like I'd leave him to die.
Toothless quarks, and Hiccup glances at him to see him staring up at Hookfang, eyes wide, pupils half-narrowed questioningly. You've always said it's shame to care…?
Hookfang's jawline softens into an unmistakable smile, and his shoulders seem to… shrug? His head tilts down to Snotlout, and he busses his cheek softly and licks him like a dam grooming a hatchling.
Toothless' pupils blow completely round, and he purrs and gives the Nightmare a dragon smile.
Letting the dragons talk, Hiccup takes a tentative step towards Snotlout. "Could you lift your wing so I can check on him?" Obediently, Hookfang angles his wing up, never letting his claw slip out of Snotlout's hands. Hiccup ducks under the wing to check. The bandages seem tighter than they were yesterday, but there's no blood. "Okay…"
He circles round Hookfang so he can see Snotlout's face, Toothless padding warm and silent at his side. Snotlout seems peaceful, except for the rapid breathing. Hiccup lays the back of his hand on his forehead – and snatches it away. He's searing hot. "Dammit. Fishlegs," Hiccup calls. "Fever's up again." He hates to wake his friend, but it's urgent. "Fishlegs!"
Astrid sidles around Hiccup's hut on the eastern side. She well and truly smells a rat. Geeking out is one thing, but this feels like they're keeping secrets. And she can't stand secrets. Secrets mess with the team dynamic. They create security holes. They can get people killed.
Screw it. She just can't stand secrets.
Back to the planks of Hiccup's hut, she slides along the outside wall, waiting. It takes her a while to find an opening. She has to stay downwind of the interior so Toothless won't catch her scent through the cracks, which he's perfectly capable of doing, and she has to find a place where sound will reach her. It would be super ideal to find a crack she can see through, but she can't count on getting that lucky. Still, she scopes out the joins between the planks. They get a lot of rain here on the Edge, enough to warp even the toughest wood by a few fractions of an inch.
There. There's a crack. Right there. One crack. And one is all she needs.
The sun has moved higher in the sky by the time she's made her way to her ideal spot. She can already hear murmurs, if not make out words, and the crevice between the planks is maybe twelve to fifteen paces away. She just needs to creep quietly enough to slip under Toothless' hunting senses.
Astrid is a few paces from the crack, inching ever closer, when she starts to make out words.
"…move Hookfang…" that's Hiccup's voice. Hookfang's dragon rumble comes through, shaking the walls of the hut. She's been hearing it as she sidled around, but dismissed it as a wild Nightmare, since Hiccup said Snotlout was with Hookfang on Berk. Now, however, the sound is unmistakable. Hiding Hookfang from her? Why would they do that?
"…fix the bandages."
"Hookfang, could you move your wing?"
"Fishlegs," Astrid breathes, inaudible. Something's really wrong. This isn't some kind of project. 'Bandages'? The way their tones are soft and urgent, filled with concern, means they're hiding something serious. And where's Meatlug? Now Astrid listens, she can hear a Gronckle's snuffly breathing from the door. Meatlug's standing sentry? Her fists clench. It's more serious than she thought.
Hiccup and Fishlegs continue to murmur in low tones, fussing around Hookfang. So the dragon's hurt – bad enough to need bandages – and Hiccup and Fishlegs are taking care of him instead of his rider? Hiccup lied to her, telling her Snotlout's with Hookfang on Berk. Covering for Snotlout while he's gallivanting off to Berk with his dad and leaving his sick dragon alone? She clenches her fists. Oh, she'll have a thing or two to say to Snotlout when he gets back. With her axe.
Another step closer. Hookfang is whining pitifully as if he's in pain. Her gut twists to hear it. Who hurt the dragon so badly? What's wrong with poor Hookfang?
A wave of disappointment washes over Astrid. She has to pause in her careful creeping for a moment. She can barely believe how unhappy, how let down, she feels, that Snotlout isn't here with his dragon. Astrid has known for a long time that Snotlout's changed, changed from an unpleasant, disrespectful bully to someone who'll give his life for his friends, clinging only to old habits out of some kind of misplaced resistance, not because he really believes the things he used to say anymore. But now, it seems like she was wrong to trust him. Hookfang is prickly, but everyone knows he cares for Snotlout – care that's misplaced, if his rider has swanned off and left the others to help when he's injured.
The disappointment weighs down on her chest like a stone. She hates to admit it, but she… likes Snotlout. She cares for him. He's family. Family who needs a bitch-slap every now and then, but still family for all that. And she knows he'd take an arrow for her. Or knew, before this.
It's a little disorienting, to be honest. Her instincts are rarely wrong, and when they are, they aren't this wrong. Fishlegs and Hiccup are still murmuring, Astrid catching about one word out of every three. Fish is explaining something to Hiccup about needing to re-wrap the bandages on account of swelling. Hiccup talks about undoing bandages and unconsciousness. Astrid can't see how they think Hookfang is unconscious with the amount of vocalizing and honking he's doing, Toothless warbling and purring to him in what she's come to recognize as the Night Fury's attempt to calm another dragon.
"What's really worrying is the fever," Fishlegs' voice rings out quite clearly. "The… uh, the other injuries wouldn't be worrying in themselves."
"Are you sure?" Hiccup has that tone he gets when he's trying to hide how worried he is… well, he always did have a soft spot for dragons. Astrid didn't know dragons could get fevers, but live and learn. "The skin's broken… in some places it's…" his voice lowers and Astrid can't make it out. "And there's so much of it…"
Astrid inches closer to the crack in the wood. Skin? Dragons have scales. Hiccup must be really confused…
"Yeah," says Fishlegs, "and I hate to say it, but he's clearly taken abuse like this before and healed okay. Even the salt did more good than harm because it was washed off immediately. The wild card here is the exposure."
"I can't believe he left him out in the cold like that!"
Wait, what? Who left whom? Astrid really needs to see what in Midgard is going on in there. Snotlout left Hookfang? That doesn't make any sense. What was to keep the dragon from leaving wherever he was being kept? Was he restrained, maybe some kind of incident with dragon trappers that they're not telling her about? But why would Hiccup and Fishlegs keep quiet about dragon trappers ?
"Hiccup, I know it's a pain, but we have to loosen the bandages. There's a lot of swelling. It's my fault. I should have realized the, uh… the injuries would swell up. I should have made allowance for it."
"That's okay, Fishlegs. You're doing really great. Hookfang will help, won't you? We got this." Hiccup's trying to sound encouraging, but he's always been really terrible at concealing how he really feels… Astrid starts to burn with worry. She closes the last few feet between herself and the gap in the wall, steeling herself for whatever she's going to see. Pressing her face to the wooden surface, she closes her left eye and brings her right one flush to the crack between the boards.
For the first few moments, there's nothing but darkness. She waits, patiently, cupping her hands around her eye to help her vision adjust, careful to remain completely still so the people and dragons inside won't be alerted by the motion of her shadow or the scent stirred up by her moving.
Slowly, the darkness resolves. Hookfang is lying on his back. So the dragon is injured—
It's a good thing she steeled herself, or she'd have gasped out loud. Instead the sound is caught behind her clenched teeth.
Snotlout is lying face-down on his dragon's stomach, asleep or unconscious, Hiccup and Fishlegs working on him with what looks like salve and bandages. He's undressed, only a sheet covering his private parts. His arms and the back of his neck catch the pale sunlight slanting in through a hole in the roof, but his back is dark with…
Astrid recoils. Her hand flies to her mouth, the extra light dimming her view for a moment as she brings her eye back flush to the gap. No amount of darkness can hide what she sees.
Snotlout's torso is so swollen it makes Astrid's stomach turn. His back and sides are puffy red and purple, flayed raw in places. His bandages are partly uncovered, to reveal his body – even his legs – scored with welts from some sort of whip. Some are scabbed over, some still shiny and bleeding sluggishly. The side of his face that she can see is damp with sweat: he's flushed with fever.
Astrid shudders. She's read of inter-clan warfare, and seen the drawings of Vikings whipped and tortured by enemies. She has just… never seen it in person before.
And never on a friend.
She slides her knuckle into her mouth and bites down as she watches Hookfang lift his rider while Hiccup and Fishlegs finish their task, unwrapping the bandages from around his torso. The dragon croons unhappily, softer than she's ever heard him, and licks his rider's face. Who could have done this? she thinks. Her money's on Viggo. Ryker is a man for fists rather than lashes. But Viggo is no less cruel, and no matter what Hiccup thinks about him being an honorable opponent, Astrid wouldn't put it past him to have their friend brutalized this way – on his order if not with his own hands. Bile rises in her throat.
She bites her knuckle harder. How, she wonders, could Hiccup and Fishlegs hide this from her and the twins? Isn't it Hiccup's duty as their leader to warn the Riders what they're getting into when they go up against the dragon hunters? How could he keep this a secret? Oh, she is so going to have words with Hiccup when she sees him.
"Oh no," Fish's voice filters through the wooden boards. "The bandage is stuck to his back."
"What do we do?" Hiccup asks nervously.
"Toothless, could you… thanks…" She can't see everything Fish is doing, but Toothless must have handed him a dipper of water, because she hears faint splashing. "We soak them till they come off. If we pull them off, it'll tear off," Fishlegs swallows, "uh… the skin with it. What-uh, well, what skin he has left."
Even in the half-light, Astrid can see Hiccup shudder. She feels a little queasy herself. "How could anyone do that to their own kid?" he whispers. Still staring at them working, Astrid wonders idly what Hiccup's talking about. And what it has to do with what they're doing.
She's still brain-dead, in a daze, when the thoughts slide into her head and click into place without warning. About how they were on the island together, and how scared Snotlout was when he told her and Hiccup to leave, and how reluctant Hookfang was to leave him alone with his father, and…
Suddenly, there's an explosion of ice in Astrid's brain, trickling down her temples as sweat and making her headband feel too tight. She can't think.
If she did think, she'd have to think that Spitelout Jorgenson has dealt his only son and heir a flogging so ferocious that he's bedridden – that a respected council member and head of a prominent Berkian clan has beat his own son so badly it's taking four nurses, two human and two dragon, just to tend his wounds and keep his fever down.
Which means – if it were true – that their friend isn't just badly hurt… he's dangerously hurt. By his own father.
Astrid swallows, throat suddenly dry. Not a minute ago, she was thinking 'how could they hide this from us'. But now, How gives way to Why.
No. No no no no no. It must be a misunderstanding. She turns back to the crack in the wood. After all, it doesn't even make sense. Snotlout is forever singing his dad's praises and those of the Jorgensons. Sure, he's strict and Snotlout will do pretty much anything rather than make Spitelout mad, but he won't hear a word against his father and he worships the ground Spitelout walks on. It makes zero sense that this could have happened.
Although, now she thinks about it, when Spitelout arrived on the Edge, Snotlout was all enthusiastic to see him, sure… but she did happen to be watching Snotlout do his training exercises when his father arrived, and she distinctly remembers seeing him cringe. Like his dad's arrival was a surprise, and not a pleasant one.
But that doesn't mean this! Spitelout's a council member! He's a war hero! He wouldn't! There must be some mistake, she decides. They're keeping it a secret for some other reason… some reason other than it's a family secret.
She blinks, the boys a blur in her line of sight as they work on the frighteningly still body before them. She remembers dismissing her observation when Snotlout pasted a big smile on his face, and turned: now that wasn't faked. He was enthused to see his dad. And he was bursting with pride to be entrusted with that stupid axe. And then he was careless enough to lose it.
Careless enough, her mind can't help asking, to be whipped within an inch of his life for his failure? And was he really careless? Snotlout fought so hard to get that axe back, risking his own life and hers and Hiccup's to get it back. Was he careless? Or reckless? She shakes her head. That's not important right now. Because even if he were careless… no amount of carelessness would merit… well, this.
Is this a family secret? Astrid shakes her head again as the boys' voices inside drone on, punctuated by dragon comments. Vikings guard their private affairs jealously…. So it would make sense to hide it, her mind keeps circling around, if it was a Jorgenson secret… But… no, it can't be. Being brutalized? By his own father? It just can't be. Because that would mean this isn't the first time. Nobody just hauls off and beats their kid half to death the first time the kid messes up. That would mean that Snotlout… Ever since they were kids…
She shakes her head and takes a step back, almost falling off the platform. The shock brings her to her senses. No, she tells herself sternly. She's not going to think of a respected elder of Berk this way. It's got to be a misunderstanding on her part.
"Should be loosened enough now," Fishlegs is instructing. "Hookfang?"
Recovering, Astrid moves close to the crack again so she can see what's going on. The dragon lifts the patient off his stomach – it scares Astrid how limp and lifeless Snotlout looks – and Fishlegs positions himself behind Snotlout, unwinding the bandages, assisted by Hiccup, who's positioned at Snotlout's front. Together, they ease them carefully off. Not carefully enough, it seems. Part of the fabric binding sticks to a place on his back where the skin is – Great Odin, is his skin torn off? – and Snotlout shudders and blurts a slurred, "I'm sorry!"
It hurts to see Snotlout so vulnerable. Astrid wants him to be brash and disrespectful and insulting. But he's gulping back sobs, and sounding terrified. "No, no, it's okay, it's okay," Hiccup is trying to reassure him, but it doesn't seem to be working. "It's just us. Me and Fishlegs. You're at the Edge, you're okay, you're safe…"
"I didn't mean to, Da..." Snotlout's voice rises to a yell. "Please don't!"
His arms flail and Hiccup grabs his wrists. "Hold still!" At the touch, Snotlout cries out. The sound makes Astrid cringe.
"Hiccup, not his wrists, they're hurt!" Fishlegs darts out from behind the bed and grabs Snotlout's upper arms. Hiccup lets go, but too late: Snotlout has started yelling incoherently and thrashing. Astrid bites down on her knuckle. She knows as well as anyone that fevers can kill… and her friend must be running a raging fever to be this far gone. Is Snotlout's life in danger? Her heart is pounding. His own kin would never do that to him… would they?
"Fishlegs, do something!" yells Hiccup. Toothless nudges him and he bends, disappearing from Astrid's view.
"He's burning up!" Fishlegs snaps back, voice sharp and clear of its usual diffidence. "I can leave you here and go get something to bring it down, or I can help you hold him down before he hurts himself!"
Hookfang grunts, jerking his head for the other two to pay attention to his rider's reaction. Snotlout is shrinking away from the loud voices, eyes screwed tight shut. He's stopped thrashing, but Astrid feels sick at the pallor in his face, the way his shoulders are raised as if bracing himself for a blow. "It was my fault," he breathes, eyes still shut tight. "I deserve this." Snotlout chokes, gulping down large breaths of air. Fishlegs tries to put a gentle hand on Snotlout's shoulder, maybe to help him calm down, but Snotlout blurts out, "Th-thank you for-for taking th…" He draws in a wheezing breath, voice strained and unnatural. "The trouble to p-punish me."
Astrid's stomach roils. She has to turn away for a moment, letting her unfocused eyes take in the trees and the blue sky. Snotlout's normally brash voice was so small, so hurt and vulnerable. And… and he was saying…
She shakes her head and turns back to watch. Fishlegs is looking up at Hookfang and instructing the dragon to do something Astrid can't hear. Hookfang grunts and replaces Fishlegs' grip with his own claws, curling them carefully around Snotlout's arms. "Okay, I'll be right back," Fishlegs rasps out, and dashes off. A moment later she can hear Meatlug's telltale whup-whup-whup receding into the distance.
Toothless warbles and holds up a block of ice in his teeth. Hiccup bends and does something, reappearing with a leather gourd filled, presumably, with the broken-up ice, since he puts it on Snotlout's head. "How did we forget that?" Hiccup shakes his head in self-disgust. "What would I do without you, bud?"
Toothless forgoes his usual sarcasm and warbles, the sound matter-of-fact and supportive. Hiccup presses the ice pack to Snotlout's head with his left hand, laying his right over where Hookfang's claw is curled around Snotlout's upper arm.
In the silence, Snotlout struggles. "It's okay, Snotlout," says Hiccup. He takes Snotlout's hands in his. "It's okay. We're here. You're okay." Hiccup's voice sounds strained, and Astrid doesn't wonder.
Snotlout pulls against Hookfang's claws, tentatively at first, then harder. She can see the precise moment he realizes he's restrained: he stops fighting and starts to sob, little lost sounds in the open structure of Hiccup's hut. Let him loose, idiots! Astrid thinks furiously, the words caught painfully in her throat, but they don't. Toothless croons and Hookfang rumbles, but they keep him held fast.
"See? We're with you," Hiccup tries for a smile. Astrid can't blame him that it falls flat. But she does blame him for what Snotlout says a moment later.
"I'm sorry, Dad… I'm sorry," Snotlout's eyes fly open, staring at something only he can see. "I'll do better! I won't let you down again." His voice rises in pitch, sounding like a much younger version of himself, one Astrid remembers from when they still used to fight dragons. "I promise!"
"Snotlout, you're not with him anymore. You're here with us. You're safe," Hiccup keeps talking, but they still have him fucking held down, dammit! Astrid is itching to barge in there and smack some sense into them. Hookfang's tight hold is clearly making Snotlout relive something horrible... something... from his childhood? Wait… Does this mean she believes it?
And in the instant she's thought that, Snotlout crumples. "I'm sorry. I know I… I earned this. Don't... don't tie me down, da... I can... I can take it like a man."
Astrid's gasp is drowned out by Hookfang's bark of shock. The big claws let go of Snotlout so suddenly he falls forward. Hiccup jumps up and catches him, grabbing his forearms and letting Snotlout's head fall against his stomach. "Snotlout." Hiccup's voice is ragged. "You're here with us on the Edge. We're in my hut. You're safe. It's okay." There's no response. "Snotlout, can you hear me?!"
But Snotlout's not listening; as soon as he's released from the restraining grip, he moans in relief and starts to babble. "Thank you thank you thank you. I won't move a muscle, Dad. I won't make you regret it, I promise. You won't need to get the whip, I promise, I promise…"
Astrid covers her mouth. A ragged sound bursts from Hiccup's throat. Blindly, he fumbles for the gourd of ice, settling it at the back of Snotlout's neck since the crown of Snotlout's head is braced up against Hiccup's body, and holding it there. He squirms again and whines pitifully. "I can take it, Da… I can take it. Don't-please," he shudders and starts to sob. His breathing is uneven and heavy. "I'm sorry!" he cries, moving desperately in Hiccup's hold. "I'm sorry!" He jerks and spasms in Hiccup's arms, letting out cries of pain between heart-stopping sobs, and making an odd motion with his head and hands.
Hiccup takes a step back, keeping Snotlout's head steady. "What are you doing?" Hiccup asks, his own breathing picking up in panic. "Stop—Stop moving," he orders, without much conviction.
Astrid suddenly gets an idea what Snotlout's trying to do – she's seen the motion before. He's trying to brush away tears. Only he can't: the open wounds on his back and sides are too large and overlapping. She can't imagine how it must hurt to even try to move his arms.
With a last desperate effort, Snotlout wrenches his arms high enough for his fingertips to brush his cheeks. Gods. He is trying to wipe away his tears. He's starting to gasp with the exertion, but still he tries, his movements growing more desperate every time he's forced to drop his arms in pain. And then he lets his arms fall. "I'm sorry!" he wails. "It hurts!" He ducks his head. "It hurts… please… I can't take anymore." He slumps more, voice wrecked. "I'm weak… useless…" he inhales shakily, "…a disappointment."
He doesn't get any further, because Hiccup puts his hands on either side of his cousin's head and squeezes Snotlout's head tight to his chest. "No, Snotlout, no!" he yells. "You're not any of those things!"
"I'm… I'm sorry." Astrid sees Hiccup touch Snotlout's forehead and snatch his hand away, eyes widening. Snotlout's throat grates with a helpless sob. "I know I'm a disgrace to the Jorgenson name…"
"He's lying if he told you that!" Hiccup shouts. "Do you hear me? Listen to me! Snap out of it!"
But Snotlout only cringes. Hookfang rumbles, bending his head sorrowfully to his rider. Astrid's own throat betrays her with a small sound, but it's drowned out by the others' voices, Toothless nuzzling Hiccup's waist and adding his own croon to the mix. "It—it's Hiccup," Hiccup whispers, finally lowering his voice. Still applying pressure on the ice pack, he moves in closer. Snotlout's makeshift bed on Hookfang's stomach is high enough that all Hiccup has to do is bend his knees slightly to guide Snotlout's head down to rest on his shoulder. He holds the ice pack there, stroking Snotlout's hair as much as he can. Astrid can see him raise his other hand, hovering, afraid to touch his cousin's injuries. He finally settles a hand on Snotlout's upper arm. "It's okay," he whispers, "it's okay. No-one's going to hurt you," he swallows, then breathes in deep through his nose. "No-one's gonna hurt you anymore," he vows, and bends to press his cheek against the top of Snotlout's head, face set and serious. "I promise."
Hookfang starts up a rumbling purr, nosing down at his rider and licking his face, Hiccup straightening to make room for him. At the touch, Snotlout opens his eyes, turning his head sideways. Even from where Astrid's standing, she can see his eyes are glassy: wherever he is, it isn't here.
"Hookfang," Snotlout whispers, voice hitching. "Sorry… you had to see that."
Hiccup makes an inarticulate sound. Astrid echoes it.
"Guess this means it's over, huh?" Snotlout whispers, rubbing his cheek against the Nightmare's scaly chin, his pained grimace melting into a soft half-smile. "You didn't have to stay, Hooky…" Hookfang purrs louder and nuzzles him. "It really hurt this time, Hookfang," sighs Snotlout. "Probably got to stay in bed for a while… Guess I'll have to tell them I'm sick again…"
Snotlout turns his head sideways against Hiccup's chest, and Hiccup rubs a hand over his head, grimacing at, Astrid guesses, his fever. "He comes for me every time," Snotlout says casually, as if he's suddenly perfectly okay with Hiccup being there. Astrid's teeth dig into her knuckle. Snotlout sounds coherent, but he is not conscious. "After. He takes care of me."
"Hookfang's a good friend," Hiccup breathes helplessly. Astrid can hear the relief in Hiccup's voice, probably from Snotlout finally calming down. At least he's not thrashing around anymore.
Hookfang burbles and pushes his chin into Snotlout's cheek. Then he flicks out his tongue and pushes the dual-bulbed end into the side of Snotlout's neck, tickling. "Hookfang!" Snotlout giggles, his face softening into a smile. He meets the dragon's eyes, and for a moment he looks nothing but young and happy. Toothless and Hiccup watch with identical dropping jaws, and Astrid knows she's echoing their expressions. She hasn't seen Snotlout do that since they were kids…
Hiccup settles a hand on Snotlout's upper arm. "It's okay," he whispers, "it's okay." Hiccup squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head: Astrid knows how Hiccup uses the word as a mantra when things are anything but okay but he'll shift Valhalla to Midgard to make it so.
"Wait—what are you doing here?" Snotlout is staring at Hiccup with wide eyes.
Hiccup takes a step back, hands held up. "It's okay, Snotlout. Don't panic!"
Astrid wants to cover her eyes. She shouldn't be seeing this at all. The panic is already there, in Hiccup's voice. And sure enough, Snotlout panics, rearing back. "You can't know! You can't know!" The movement causes pain, and he gasps, eyes darting around the room. "You can't," his voice rises in pitch and cracks, "you can't know!"
Hiccup grabs Snotlout's upper arms. "Snotlout, snap out of it!" he yells in his battle voice. Hookfang pulls his head back to meet Hiccup's eyes and growls like Hiccup is the threat. Toothless rears up, not spreading his wings but coming level with the larger dragon, crooning to him.
Just as Hookfang's growls subside, Fishlegs bursts in, Meatlug's wings still whirring outside. "I got it!" Fishlegs calls. He pauses a moment in the doorway, taking in the scene; then he rushes to Snotlout. "Here. Drink it down."
Snotlout jerks backwards. "Fishlegs?" he gasps. "No!" He crumples, moaning. "No, no, no, no, no…"
Hookfang butts his head against his rider, purring forcefully. Astrid can almost hear him instructing Do what the humans say.
"I don't want you to know!" Snotlout says helplessly as Fishlegs rounds Hookfang and comes up next to him and Hiccup. "How are you here? How are you here?"
"Has he been like this—"
"Since you left, yeah," Hiccup nods. "Go on," he says, an edge in his voice, "drink up for Thor Bonecrusher."
Snotlout stares. "Thor Bone… He hasn't b… Uh… no, wh…?" His eyes widen. Then he says in a very small voice, "My head hurts."
Fishlegs uses Snotlout's confusion to cup his head in one hand and practically force the drink down his throat with the other. Some sort of fever remedy if Astrid had to guess. Snotlout looks from Hiccup to Fishlegs, then his eyes slip shut and he slumps. "Is he okay?" Hiccup asks worriedly.
"The fever really took it out of him," Fishlegs explains, arranging their unconscious friend more comfortably. "We're gonna need to feed him some broth or something. When he can handle it. Or it's gonna eat him up."
"Yeah." Hiccup nods uneasily. Astrid remembers how Hiccup was – a small, sickly child, no stranger to fevers, at least when they were very young. He'd know.
"A little to the side, Hookfang—yeah, that's perfect. Good job with the purring, by the way." Fishlegs smiles up at the dragon, and if it's forced, who can blame him? "It should go down soon. C'mon, Hiccup. This is a good time to redo the bandages." He grimaces. "I won't mess it up like last time."
As Hookfang lifts Snotlout and the humans, with Toothless and Meatlug, start to do the bandaging again, Astrid slips away. She's seen enough.
She spends three days retrieving frozen yak chops from their cold storage on the mountainside and making broth for the entire Edge, pretending she's got a yen for it. Broth is within Astrid's cooking skills: throw the meat into boiling water with some salt. She pretends she doesn't notice Hiccup and Fishlegs sneaking some of it away. Every time they come back with an empty bowl, she feels herself fed.
