To Be Loved the Way You Love Me

Life on Berk turns upside down when a sixteen year old boy traveling with a dark past, a world of hurt, and a Night Fury washes up on its shores. The love-starved boy will only tell people one thing about his past: His name is Hiccup. But where did he live before? And why doesn't he trust anyone?

Chapter 20: Flashes

NO. OKAY. NO. I DO NOT KNOW WHY I CHOSE THAT TITLE, EITHER. :P anyway, I'm also working on my Halloween story 'I Didn't Mean to Hurt You, Too' so if you're in the mood for something Halloween-y, you guys should read it! :D please?

Anyway, um, yeah. It's gonna be chapter 23 or 24, but I had plans for chapter 24...I'm sorry, I have random little bursts of inspiration where basically I know everything that's going to happen five chapters from now, but no idea of what's going to transpire in the very next one xD well, okay, actually, I have a vague idea, but it wouldn't work for anything earlier than 23 or 24, so...

The next few days passed in blurs and only certain flashes stuck out to me, flashes that had been made memorable for some reason or another.

I had flashes of working on the vest, a blur of sewing and pressing and cutting and reworking.

I remembered Gobber telling me stories on quiet days in the forge, his voice echoing, shattering the early morning peace.

I remembered little clips of the villagers patting me on the back, thanking me, telling me what a great job I'd done in the dragon attack last week.

It felt strange to be liked and congratulated, and even stranger to realize that there were some people on this island who had spoken to me before and were interested in speaking to me again.

I guess being the village screw-up has that effect on people.

The chief seemed warmer, somehow, too, as if the dragon attack had made him like me a little better as well.

And Gobber remained the same as he always was, just kind of there, as insane and possibly unstable as he was.

I remember one night, after having had dinner at Stoick's house, before we all parted ways to go to bed, we had sat down in the living room and Stoick and Gobber began telling me story after story of bloody battles.

"…and that dragon crept up behind me…" Gobber continued, leaning toward me and forming claws with his hands. "…with menace in those yellow eyes…"

I leaned forward a little, too, but Toothless didn't seem interested. Maybe he himself had seen too much warfare to be terribly interested in another story about it.

"And he opened his mouth…his jaws blood red from the life of other victims…I tried to run, but that dragon was faster…he clamped his jaws over my knee…and bit down with apparent relish…"

I swallowed, but interest still bound me to listen.

"He bit through flesh and blood seeped out from my leg…"

I couldn't tell if I was interested in the story any longer or not, but I listened anyway, because Gobber seemed so into the story that I didn't want to interrupt and a kind of fascination had taken hold of me anyway.

"…and I thought it was the end…bones snapping…blood dripping…staining his fangs a bright red…"

I winced and bit down, hard, on my tongue, drawing a little blood.

"…and then…he SNAPPED MY LEG CLEAN OFF!"

He gestured to his prosthetic leg, and then continued, "Oh, but I got my revenge, alright! I took my mace and bludgeoned him to death…hitting him over the noggin again and again…there was blood, then, I'll tell ya…" and he gave a bloodthirsty little laugh.

"Gobber," Stoick interrupted, pointing at me.

"What?" Gobber demanded, irritated, and then he glanced over at me. "Oh." His smile faded.

"You're scaring him," Stoick said in an audible whisper.

"I'm not scared!" I said hotly and it was actually true: maybe a little uninterested in the story now, but definitely not scared.

"All the same, maybe we should get to bed," Gobber said in a soothing voice. "We're gonna have a big day tomorrow…"

"Hmph," I muttered grumpily, still stuck on the whole 'you're-scaring-him' thing and not happy about it.

"C'mon," Gobber went on, ignoring me. "I'll stop telling stories about how I lost my limbs."

I planned on walking alone to the forge, but Gobber walked with me, reminding me that I needed him to open the door for me with his key. "Alright, Hiccup," he whispered, "just scooch on in there…'night…"

"'Night, Gobber," I responded, and he shut the door.

Toothless curled up on the floor and I rested my head on his back, reminding myself I should probably make a saddle, too…but I didn't want to intrude on their hospitality any more than I already had…

"NO!"

"HICCUP?"

"Hiccup the dragon trainer?"

"But he can't be!"

"It's not possible!"

But soon, their cries of surprise turned into something a little different.

"We should've known!"

"He comes prancing in here with these fancy ideas—

"Maybe hoping to get back in our good graces?"

"He lied to us! To all of us!"

"I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD'VE KICKED HIM OFF, AND NO MORE SAID!"

There was nothing but hurt in Gobber's eyes. "Hiccup…how could you?"

"An Outcast!" Astrid said, her face very white. "How?!"

"Hiccup, how could you?!"

But I had an answer for no one. I turned and I ran.

I woke up, panting, gasping for breath, sucking the air, but it offered me little relief. It was still dark outside and the only light that came was the meager light from the stars. It was all okay; everybody was safe and nobody knew about me.

My hands clenched into fists and I took a few more ragged, slow breaths before laying back down on Toothless and trying to coax myself back to sleep.