Untold

Chapter 21 - Thunderstorm

Summary: Hiccup doesn't like storms.

A/N: Well, here you go! 3,000 words! Hope you enjoy :D This idea was given to me by RazzlePazzleDooDot. We got into a discussion about whether or not this AU Hiccup likes storms.

When I awoke, it was storming. Not the gentle, drizzly rain that turned the sky a bit gray; a fully-fledged thunderstorm with a heavy downpour and bright white forks of lightning that practically lit up the sky. The howling wind alone could've shaken the hut right down to its foundations.

I knew I would be getting no more sleep from the moment I opened my eyes.

I reached out a hand, hoping to relax myself by stroking Toothless' scales, but my fingers met only the cold hardwood of the floor. The feel of the floor beneath my fingers forced me to remember the last storm like this: Toothless pulling against his chains, whimpering in the back of his throat as his desire to be free was made known.

Toothless loved rain. He loved the sights and sounds and smells of a thunderstorm, yelping with excitement every time there was a particularly loud clap of thunder, dancing around and trying to guess when the next strike of lightning would be. The louder and fiercer the storm, the heavier the rain, the brighter and scarier the lightning, the better it was, at least in Toothless' head.

The last time there had been a storm like this, I had lain shuddering in my cell, my arms over my head, trying not to hear the loud booms and claps of thunder overhead. I did much the same thing now, yanking the blanket over my head, shuddering beneath the blankets.

I could almost hear Toothless' shrill, excited yelps as he frolicked in the rain, large pink tongue dangling out, catching stray drops. Of course the wind and rain and thunder were much too loud for me to even hope to hear him until they abated, but I knew, if I could, that's what I would hear.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the world outside my little blanket, burning orange in front of my tightly closed eyes.

I hated, just hated, storms. I didn't like admitting it, or other people knowing I didn't like them – too much risk of them using things like that against me in the future, I thought – but that couldn't be helped sometimes.

And it wasn't like I was scared of them, I comforted myself, as another boom shook the hut, causing me to jump. My heart sped up slightly and I tightened my trembling grip on the blanket.

I simply detested the loud, distracting booms, the howling gusts of wind, the often freezing rain and the lightning. Oh, the lightning. Now that really was the worst part of a storm. It just seemed so big and angry, a storm did, and each flash of lightning was a reminder, at least to me, of how very small I was, how small and vulnerable and helpless.

And if there was one thing I hated, it was feeling helpless.

Every time a storm had occurred on Outcast Island, I remembered running as fast and far as I could in the forest, trying to beat the fat, cold raindrops and the loud booms of thunder sure to come. Sometimes, I made it and sometimes I didn't, but they both had the same result whenever I got back: to run into my house and bury myself under the covers on my bed, shuddering every time lightning flashed across the sky. Sometimes, I would even cry if the storm were particularly bad; that was how afraid of them I used to be.

I was stronger, now, though, I assured myself silently, rolling over, making sure to take the blanket with me. And I was not scared.

It was the first time I would ever try to escape from Outcast Island, but it certainly wasn't the last. The night started with hope, and a possibility of escape; so why did it end in sadness and hopelessness and fear?

It had been completely dark in my cell, that much I remembered. The only illumination I received was the occasional flashes of lightning from my tiny, barred window, too high above my head to see out of at the time, too far up to offer me any hope of escape.

Besides, it wasn't like I was stupid enough to try and repeat my actions from earlier tonight, after such a harsh punishment for them.

Things had actually started out okay for Toothless and I, but when the storm hit is when things started going nightmarishly wrong.

We had escaped from our cells quietly; we had made it out of the dungeons and onto the end of the island, where sand met ocean with no one's knowledge. We were practically invisible against the night sky, especially a starless night like this, with dark, heavy clouds moving in. There was no moon.

We exchanged excited glances and Toothless settled down for a second, but only for a second, and that second was all I needed to climb up on his back and turn my attention to the sky. I could feel the static in the air, hear the distant rumbles of thunder, and my grip on his reins tightened slightly. I was twelve years old, and I knew I should be a man. And besides, I had come this far. It was too late to reschedule, to wait to do it another day. It was now or never. We might not be so lucky if we waited until next time.

My gut lurched as he began running along the sand, kicking up dust and gathering speed as the thunder grew louder and louder, as the clouds burst open and he threw himself up into the sky…

We made it barely three feet off the island before the rain started, before the lightning flashed, hit his tail, and sent us plunging back to the ground. I sat up, spitting out a mouthful of sand and staring down at his prosthetic tail, now hopelessly burned beyond repair. The escape attempt had been a failure.

Another round of thunder, and I shuddered, hiding my face in my knees for a few seconds so I didn't have to look at the sky, or Toothless, or anything. So I could just shut the world out for a few precious seconds and pretend to be alright. And then I raised my head again, once the thunder had passed and quieted, and I stroked his head comfortingly, although I wanted to be comforted too, right then. But it was my failure, and I had to fix it. My screw-up. My repair. "We can swim." I whispered. "If we swam fast, we could make it away from here before the storm even clears. Before it's even half over."

But this was not likely, and we both knew it. I wasn't a strong swimmer at the best of times, and, although Toothless was strong enough for both of us, eventually he would give in, too. The makeshift tail I had created from the odds and ends I had picked up when I could risk sneaking out, or sweet-talk/confuse (mostly confuse) one of the guards into letting me out wouldn't have gotten us very far anyway.

I stared miserably down at the burnt, soaked metal substitutes. No, they wouldn't have gotten us very far. And his tail was a lightning magnet as is. I should have thought of that. I pulled my knees up to my chest as I watched another strike of lightning flash across the sky. "We'd never have made it anyway," I whispered to the lonely, black night. "C'mon, Toothless. It's time for us to think of something new."

I rose to my feet and brushed myself off, wrapping my arms around myself to lock in as much body heat as possible – not easy when I was drenched from the freezing rain. I pushed myself forward, already relaying the newest plan to Toothless, waiting for him to give me his input on it. I had already come up with several plans over the weeks and he'd either shot them down or approved them, at least until one of us found a (usually gaping) hole in it.

"Alright," I whispered confidentially, "we'll hide out, I guess, in the forest. Let's go back to the cove. I guess we'll just lay low until the storm abates, let Alvin think we're too far gone to catch and then—

But I was cut off by the sound of a cracking twig, coming from the direction of the forest I spoke of right then. I stopped walking instantly, flinging out an arm to stop Toothless, too, but this wasn't really necessary; he had stopped the instant I had.

We dropped to the ground instantly, Toothless picking me up, shielding me with his wings to quiet the sound of my shudders from the cold and the storm and to hopefully shield me from view from any person. If he closed his eyes right then, he'd be practically invisible.

Maybe it was just an animal, I thought to myself as I tried to calm my panicked, racing heart. It was an animal, or the effect of the wind and rain on a branch…

I clung tightly to Toothless, listening hard through his wings for any other sounds, but it was hopeless; his thick, warm scales blocked out any sound instantly.

So I just shut my eyes and prayed that someone or something would get us out of this, or get Toothless out of this, at the very least. He didn't deserve this. He had been dragged into this by me.

There were a few loud, panicked yells and Toothless tightened his grip on me anxiously, worried moans making their way out of his throat as he nuzzled the top of my head. I tightened my own grip on him, trying to meet his eye, but he wasn't looking at me as he slowly raised his head. Low growls made their way out of his throat for a few seconds and my anxiety only increased.

Then Toothless' wings vanished from around me, and my only warmth and protection was gone. I blinked open my eyes just seconds before a hand grabbed me by the collar, hauling me right back to where I came from. I gave a panicked glance around for Toothless, watching several Outcasts beating him into submission. The sight of them punching and kicking my dragon was enough. "Leave him alone!" I commanded, struggling to break free from whoever held me. "Just leave him alone!"

I felt a fierce blow to the back of the head and a rough Outcast voice telling me to shut up. The burning pain and the spots of color bursting before my eyes forced me onto my knees, but the Outcast holding me didn't seem to care; he insisted on continuing to drag me along. No matter what he had to do to get me back into my cell, it was clear that that was what he was going to do.

I was dragged helplessly along, away from Toothless, away from the raging storm and back into the dingy little cell that now served as my home. I stared miserably around at the stone walls, only halfheartedly trying to resist the shackles the man began fastening securely around my wrists.

When he left the room, it was with these solemn words: "Alvin will be here shortly, runt. Sit tight."

The metal door slammed shut, leaving me in darkness.

He hadn't been lying about "shortly"; within just a few minutes, the door had opened again and Alvin was standing there, one hand fingering the hilt of his sword, the other slamming the heavy door shut behind him. "How did you do it?" he spat, taking a step closer to me as the door slammed shut all the way, plunging us into pitch black.

"I…what?"

"How did you escape?"

"Why should I tell y-you?" My fear was given away by my stammer.

He took another few steps forward, bridging the gap between us easily and taking out his sword, holding it close to my throat. "Start talking."

"I—

He pressed it down, hard. "I'm waiting."

"I…it was easy," I managed. "The guards would let me out if I convinced them, or if I tricked them. I picked the lock on my handcuffs. That part was really easy."

"What else?" The blade was now so close to my throat that I could barely speak.

"Scrap metal," I choked. "For Toothless' tail. I picked it up from around the forge."

"How long were you planning this?"

"A few weeks."

He swore quietly under his breath, drawing his sword back. I let out a breath of relief, my limbs trembling from the adrenaline and fear of the night.

As if to underline that he wasn't finished with me, however, he kicked me in the ribs, causing me to crumple at his feet, gripping my side tightly. "Did you really think you could get away from me?" he snarled, landing another painful kick. "Did you really think you could escape me that easily?"

"You're hurting me," I whispered painfully, but he didn't hear.

"You are never getting away from me," he sneered. "I own you."

"I'm a person, not an object!" I began indignantly, but he silenced me with a slap on the face.

"Shut up," he snarled. "Just shut up. You're not escaping from me, is that clear? Any more attempts like this and you will regret it."

I scowled. "I'm not scared—

"Liar." he sneered, landing another kick before drawing his sword and kneeling down next to me, looking at me almost thoughtfully. "Now, let me see," he began in a leisurely way, letting the blade tickle my neck before shooting up to my cheek, down to my side, back up to my forehead. "Where do I want your newest scar to be?"

My flinch gave me away, and he chuckled.

By the end of the night, his rage was gone and so was my defiance.

"Never forget it," he snarled. "Never, ever. I own you."

"Please," I choked. "Please, no more. You're…you're h-hurting me."

"What did you think was my intention, you fool?" he demanded, his harsh voice cruelly amused. "You're an even bigger weakling than I thought. Can't even withstand a decent beating."

I closed my eyes against his words, but I knew he was right. A stronger man than I would have just kept silent. "No more," I blurted, unable to keep calm when the thought of the torture that was sure to come loomed over me. "Please, no more."

"Then control your tongue and your temper."

"I promise." I managed.

"Stop resisting."

"I'll stop." I whimpered.

"I own you."

"You…you…" the words were foul on my tongue, but I managed to spit them out. "You own me."

I sat straight up in bed, panic sitting in my stomach like a stone. In the darkness, Stoick's spare bedroom could've been an Outcast cell. I let out a piercing, high-pitched scream, expecting Alvin to be upon me at any moment, expecting anything to come out of the shadows from where it lurked. Tears welled up in my eyes as the storm only seemed to grow louder, the very universe amused by my pitiful attempts at survival.

I whimpered, drawing the blanket up closer beside me before I heard a creak on the stairs and I shuddered again. Someone was coming to get me, to shut me up for being so loud. I instantly lay down again, rolling over, trying to pretend to be asleep.

The door flew open and Stoick walked in, the floorboards creaking loudly as he stepped in all the weak places, making his loud, heavy way over to me. "Hiccup, Hiccup, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

I shrank down slightly under the covers, but it seemed rude not to answer him now, so I opened my mouth to tell him, yeah, sorry, I'm fine, but what came out was, "I'm s-scared."

"What?" he sat down on the edge of the bed and scooted closer to me. "Did something happen, Hiccup? What are you scared of?"

I was shaking as I released my grip on the blanket, groping around for his hand in the darkness. "I don't like storms."

"Oh, Hiccup…"

"Alvin h-hurt me during one of them."

"Oh, son—

"And…and I tr-tried to escape from Outcast Island…" That's funny. I don't remember letting those tears fall. Normally I'm better at holding them back. "…And he b-beat me for it. He told me, 'I-I own y-you.'"

The dam broke, the tears began falling faster, and I squeezed his large hand with both of mine. He pulled me up into a hug, listening to me sob for a few minutes.

"I'm…I'm scared, Daddy," I whimpered, clinging to him like a child. "I don't like storms."

"I know."

"They're scary."

"I know." His warm, soothing hand on my back was warm and comforting and solid; I wanted to stay like this all night.

I wiped my nose on my sleeve, trying to stem the flow of tears, knowing I wouldn't be able to. "Alvin liked to h-hurt me during storms."

"I'm sorry, Hiccup. I'm so sorry."

"Don't let him hurt me, okay?"

"Never. I'm right here for you, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

There was silence for a while.

"Don't…" I hesitated before saying it. "Don't leave me alone, okay?"

"C'mon." he whispered, taking my hand and gently tugging me up off the bed. "Why don't you come sleep in my bed? Would you like that? That way, you don't have to be alone."

The idea did sound nice. I realized I would like that. I nodded shakily, and he helped me all the way downstairs, even though I didn't even need help.

He waited until I was safely on one side of the bed before crawling onto the other side, taking my hand, and giving it a squeeze. "You're alright, Hiccup. You're safe. No one's gonna hurt you."

"Storms are scary." I whispered in a small voice.

"But you're okay. If you need me, I'll be right here, okay?" He drew me into a tight hug, letting me rest against his chest. I buried my face in his beard and shirt for a few seconds as he hugged me. "You're alright. No one's ever gonna hurt you again, alright?"

The storm outside seemed to drop a bit as I replied. "Okay."

Maybe this storm wasn't so scary after all.