Chapter 21: Denial

A/N: So, um. Yeah. Here you go. I hope you like. Sorry about that superlong AN last time.

Hey, have any of you read 'The Forgotten Boy' by TheOneWithTheScar? Oh, my gosh, it's so beautifully angsty, I love every inch! Of course, I haven't finished it...I've only read up to chapter...five, I think? I don't know. I must finish it to find out what happens. Anyway, it's really amazing. Seriously, if you guys like angst upon angst - which you should, considering you're reading my story - then you should check it out.

I was rendered speechless and frozen for a second, my mouth moving, but no words coming out. I was ten years old again suddenly, my body completely immobile as I waited for someone or something to jar me out of this state, this speechless and shaken state I was in. The same state I was in when Dad hit me for the first time.

The last thing I needed was to remember the first time my dad hit me, but it did do the trick: my voice returned, miraculously, but just in time for me to blurt out the incredibly intellectual answer of, "What?"

The nurse smiled a bit, simply pushing the door a bit wider, allowing a voice I recognized to come floating into the room. And the voice was so familiar that it made tears spring to my eyes, and my heart honestly ached.

"Is this his room?" The voice asked, and I saw the nurse turning to look and nodding at some unseen person, but I knew exactly who it was.

The man who came into the room was not my father.

His face was pale and scared as he stumbled his way into the room, and I caught the barest whiff of alcohol on him, which made my stomach contract, only the scent was a lot weaker than I was used to. It wasn't enough to make me relax, but it was enough to give me hope. He stumbled uncertainly over to the bed, staring down at me as if he couldn't believe I was there. "Hiccup…" he whispered. "What happened?" His voice came out a trembling whisper. And then he did something he hadn't done in a very long time, something I didn't think he would ever do again, something I had never dared to dream he would do: he hugged me. He wrapped me in a tight hug, his chin resting against my forehead, and he kept asking me what had happened, but I didn't want to answer, I just wanted to relax and feel safe in his arms, because he was finally showing me affection.

After four long years of next to nothing, of blows to the head being my lullaby, slaps on the face my kiss goodnight, his yells that I was useless the only 'how was your day' I got… The only thing I wanted was to keep holding onto this man I hardly knew.

"What happened?" he repeated, drawing away from me.

Toothless was watching the exchange curiously, but his green eyes had darkened with something close to sadness, something close to longing. A longing for something he knew he could never have.

I reveled in the fact that his arms were around me, despite the fact that I expected him to hit me at any second, to realize I didn't deserve hugs. I clung to him, but I wouldn't relax my rigid posture.

The nurse gently tapped him on the shoulder. "Sir?" she ventured cautiously.

He didn't let me go, but he turned away from me to face her, wrapping one arm around me and pulling me close to his side. "Yes?"

"The doctor would like to speak to you and your son privately, if you wouldn't mind," the nurse said quietly, straightening her overlarge black glasses that dwarfed her blue eyes. "Will you stay here for a few moments while I go and fetch him?"

"Of course," he responded, and I could tell he meant it. It was the first time somebody had asked him to do something and he replied with such gratitude in his voice, such relief.

"I'm just gonna…" Toothless began to edge towards the door, and the nurse nodded, holding the door for him. "See you tomorrow!" he added and I nodded.

"See you tomorrow," I said quietly.

The moment the door had closed behind him, my dad sniffed a little, and wiped his eyes. I worried that I had made him cry. There are seldom worse feelings in the world than making your parents cry. "Hiccup, when I got that call from the hospital, I was so scared…" he hugged me tightly again. "I thought something serious had happened to you!"

"I'm fine," I mumbled, shrugging. "You shouldn't have been so worried."

"What happened to you?" My dad repeated. "I hardly even heard a word the message said after they told me to come discharge you, I was just scrambling around trying to get out the door!"

"I guess I was just exercising too hard." I muttered, staring down at the blankets, trying not to look at him. I think it was even worse lying to him than it was lying to other people. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

"Don't apologize." He told me gently. "I just need to know you're okay."

A light tap on the door, and it opened slowly. Dr. Montgomery came in again, running a hand through his graying hair. He looked up at Dad and I, him still with his arms wrapped around me. "Mr.…Haddock, is it?" he cocked an eyebrow, and Dad nodded.

"Excellent," he muttered to himself, taking a seat in one of the chairs and motioning for my dad to do the same. "Hiccup, you can stay in here if you wish, but there's really nothing keeping you…"

I nodded, but they were kind of blocking the bed anyway, so I just sat there, waiting for him to start speaking.

"Mr. Haddock," he began seriously, "your son passed out from malnutrition four days ago."

I could see the shock and surprise on my dad's face, growing more and more apparent with each word the doctor spoke.

"He confessed to me that he hadn't eaten anything at all on the day in question, and he is horribly underweight as is."

I began picking at the blanket again. It was easier than seeing my dad's face.

"Had you noticed anything unusual in your son's behavior lately?"

Dad shook his head wordlessly, evidently too stunned to speak. But he did speak then, turning to me and regarding me with wide eyes. "Hiccup…why…?"

I squirmed. "I'm sorry," I mumbled helplessly. "I didn't mean for things to get this bad, I didn't…"

The doctor cleared his throat, fiddling with the silver wristwatch on his wrist. "I…I'm sorry to say this, sir, but I suspect your son has an eating disorder."

This just added to the shock on my father's face.

"No, I don't!" I protested hotly, defensively. "It was just one day, honestly!"

"Hiccup." The doctor closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "Whatever this is, you need help in dealing with it."

"I've told you, my body doesn't hold onto food like regular people!"

I think my dad was starting to look a little surprised by how easily the lies rolled off my tongue, instead of by what the doctor was telling him.

"Does your son have a history of that?"

"History of what?"

"A history of being unable to hold onto food?"

Dad wordlessly shook his head. "Not…as far as I can remember," he whispered.

"Well, it must have developed recently." I couldn't meet my father's eyes. I just stared down at my lap.

"Hiccup…"

I pressed my hands into fists, intertwining them tightly. I couldn't sit here and listen to this anymore.

Dr. Montgomery gave me a swift look, one that meant that I should probably shut up now. I reluctantly closed my mouth.

"Mr. Haddock, your son needs help in dealing with what he's got. Even a child could see his body is not healthy. I have several programs, a few clinics that could help him…I have their numbers if you'd like to give them a call…"

"Yes," Dad nodded. "Yes, that would be great. Please, may I have the numbers?"

Dr. Montgomery nodded and I pulled my knees up to my chest, asking myself how I got into these things.

It was a perfectly normal day, and I had passed out. Suddenly, it was a big deal. Suddenly, words like "eating disorder" and "health clinic" and "rehabilitation" were becoming part of my regular vocabulary. They were words the doctors and nurses told me to "think about".

Dr. Montgomery stood and walked to the door. "I'll be right back with them."

When the door closed, my dad didn't look at me for a long second. "An eating disorder?" his voice trembled. "An eating disorder?"

"Dad…" I felt so helpless. I had let him down again. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Because I was tired of trying to deny things.

"Oh, Hiccup." He let his head fall into his hands, and I thought for a second he was crying, but when he raised his face again his eyes were dry. His expression twisted, and he looked indescribably angry. "An eating disorder?"

"I'm sorry." I could feel tears building in my eyes. "I'm so sorry, I never meant for this to happen, I never meant for things to get this bad…"

"Isn't that what women have?" he asked bluntly, all the sadness gone from his face, and I felt a sudden spasm of hurt, as if he'd just smacked me on the heart instead of on the face.

"Well…um…the doctor said it could happen to all genders…people of all ages, but people in their teen years were most susceptible…" I shrugged helplessly.

My dad sighed a little. "How did it get this way? And why didn't you tell me?"

"I…I don't know." I wanted suddenly to tell him that it was because he was never there, that I needed him there, that I needed him to stop hitting me and stop calling me mistake and start taking care of me again and start doing the shopping like a regular parent. I wanted to tell him that I wanted him to show that he cared about me, but the words stuck in my throat. I couldn't accuse him of never being there, because who would ever want to be there for me, anyway?