Disclaimer: I do not own HTTYD, RoTG or anyone else you may come to recognize. I only own my OC's.

Chapter Twenty Five; Coming Back To Me Now

"I thought he was awake."

"He was, but then he.."

"He what?"

"He saw his leg. He started freaking out. The nurses had to put him out before he ended up damaging anything."

Stoick gave a sigh, nodding his head. His gaze left the Hofferson girl, looking to where his son lay fast asleep in the hospital bed. It was killing the man inside, seeing the state his son had been reduced to. He'd been out of it for days, and it had been such a relief that once days had passed, the man finally heard word that his son was awake.

Only for him to arrive and find the boy like this. Astrid had been in tears when Hiccup's father had arrived, apologizing over and over again to him. It wasn't Astrid's fault, if anything, Stoick felt that this entire mess was his own fault.

He'd been about to go out in search of Hiccup when he had gotten the phone call. He was on the verge of yelling when a voice he did not recognized greeted him over the phone. When he pulled the phone away to check at the caller ID, flashbacks of his wife came to him when he saw the number. He'd wasted no time in rushing out the door, not even caring about the loud slam as he moved to his car.

His son had been in a car accident, and the memories came back to him like a nightmare that would not go away. A frail limp hand, long auburn locks spread around her. If it wasn't for the blood pouring from the wound, he could have passed it off that his wife had been fast asleep.

When he arrived at the scene, it almost seemed the same. He saw a limp, freckle covered arm. Auburn hair pushed away from his face, lips parted as he tried to take in oxygen. Stoick's eyes took in all the blood the lead a trail away from the car and to where his son was being hoisted up onto a gurney. Astrid had soon joined him, having gotten a phone call as well.

Her hands had reached out to Stoick, being the stronger one for the both of them as the man had collapsed onto his knees.

And now he was the one being strong for his son's best friend. His large hand rested on her shoulder, trying to comfort her as she shook with sobs that threatened to escape. He wished he had been there, maybe he could have calmed down Hiccup. His eyes glanced down, looking to the spot where his son's left foot should have been. But the sheets on indented in, the limb long lost now.

"Go on home, Astrid. I'll watch him."

Her head rose, blue eyes looking up at him. Giving a sniffle, she shook her head, wiping the back of her arm against her eyes. She had to stop crying, she had to be here for Hiccup. She had to be here when Jack couldn't. Stoick sighed, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at the teenage female. Her eyes had moved away from him, focused again to her best friend.

"Have you heard from Jack?"

The white haired male had been there with Hiccup, white hair coated with blood from where he had hit it during the accident. He'd been put into a separate room, but unlike Hiccup, had hadn't been out for days. Stoick had gone in to speak to him, but when he had shown up he had seen Mary and Emma, the girl sitting up on the bed with her arms wrapped around her brother.

Stoick hadn't seen him after that. The last time he walked past the room, he had seen it empty. So he could only figure that Jack had been discharged.

The man hadn't been happy at all with that. There were questions left unanswered. But he didn't want to see Jack again, the thought of what had happened to Hiccup, Stoick found himself clenching his fists. If Jack showed his face again, Stoick would put that boy into worse pain. While Hiccup had lost a limb, Stoick would make sure that Jack lost more than that.

"No." Astrid answered, pulling her legs up.

. . . .

He stopped, his blue eyes looking across the street to the large building. In his hand was a creature made out of red fabric, two horns jutting from the top of it's head and a pair of long, jagged looking wings sprouting from the back. He held the object to his chest, lightly biting down on his tongue.

This was where he'd stop, every time he'd made the effort to come see Hiccup. He'd stand in this spot across from the hospital, with the gift for his boyfriend held in his arms. But he could never find himself able to cross the street, it was like there was a barrier keeping him from moving any closer. And why should he? Because of his reckless driving, his boyfriend was stuck in bed, missing his left leg.

Sighing, Jack slowly sank down so that he was sitting on the sidewalk.

He stared down at the dragon plush on his lap, black beady eyes staring back at him. His fingers stroked down the back, feeling very little comfort in the motion. He had only seen Hiccup once, before he left the hospital. He'd wobbled his way down the hall, his hand pressed to the wall to keep him upright. He'd stopped outside the room, his gaze landing on the boy that lay in bed. It had been so heartbreaking in seeing him, seeing the state he'd been left in. But what was worse was seeing the indent on where his left leg should have been.

Jack had ended up retching right there in the doorway, catching the attention of a nearby nurse. The woman had escorted him back to his room, telling him that he should have been resting. But he couldn't find any rest after that.

Astrid constantly texted and called him, trying to get in touch with him. Jack ignored each though, he didn't want to see what she had to say. Surely, she'd probably only yell at him. She'd tell him how reckless he was, how dumb of an idea it had been. She'd blame him for everything, tell him she hated him for what he'd done to her best friend.

And each of her words would have been true.

What was worse though, that the blow he had taken to his head, that was the push he needed to remember everything.

He could recall his parents. His father, who use to build trains with him when he was a kid. The man who use to pull him onto his back for piggyback rides, and would make train noises as they ran about the front yard. There was his mother, looking almost the spitting image of an older Emma. He could recall the way the skin wrinkled around her eyes when she'd smile at him, her caring yet stern voice when she'd yell at him when he'd go running outside in bare feet.

Hopscotch with his sister, pulling pranks on their neighbors, his and Emma's tiny voices as they begged their parents for a family pet. The nights when the family would gather in the living room, all cuddled together as they watched movies. The day Jack finally informed his mother that he was a growing boy, and it was uncomfortable to be sharing a bath with his sister.

And then there had been the kidnapping, so clear in his mind, it was almost as if it had happened just yesterday.

He could recall his mother telling him to go fetch her something, how he had gone down the isles to get it. There had been the older man who had approached him, feeble and requesting the young boy for help. Jack had been young, and so naive at that age. He had agreed to helping the man, feeling bad for the fact that this man couldn't seem to get help from any of the adults.

So he followed him, past the isle his mother was in, not even stopping to inform her where he was going. He had followed that man outside, to the vehicle that had been pointed out to him. He smiled as he chatted with the elder, not a single warning bell going off in his head that it wasn't a good idea to be walking away from his parent with a stranger.

He remembered how the door had sprung open, a cry failing to escape him when he was pulled inside. A hand was clamped over his mouth, his legs and arms flailing to try and escape. He could remember the man that towered over him, younger than the male that had walked out of the store with him. His fingers smelled like tobacco, and every time his mouth opened, Jack recalled pointing out the missing teeth.

Who knew how long the drive was, the entire time Jack was held in a firm grip in the back of the vehicle, hidden away from view behind the seats. He'd held strong through the entire drive, not letting a single tear shed. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction in seeing him cry.

The area they had arrived at was unfamiliar, a house hidden away in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn't until he was lead into the basement, locked away to stay there that he finally let his tears go. He'd curled up into a ball on the floor, thinking of his family. His mother, waiting for him to return to her at the store. His father and Emma at home, waiting for Mrs. Overland and Jack to return home with the groceries, only to find out that Jack would not be returning.

At first there had been no interaction between him and his kidnapper. The only time Jack saw him was when he came down with food and water. Jack barely touched it, the sadness of never seeing his family keeping him from doing anything but laying on the floor.

Maybe it had been a week, maybe two, when they finally had their first interaction.

The man had come down again, delivering food like he usually did. He'd stare down at Jack as he placed the tray on the floor, never touching him, never saying a word. Jack's eyes would meet those blank blue one's, and wonder why it was he was here. What had he done to be brought here, taken away from his family? So finally, he found the courage to question it.

Turned out, he did nothing wrong. He'd just been at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

The next few interactions returned to silence, neither saying a word to each other. Finally, what Jack could guess was maybe three weeks, maybe a month since he'd been taken from the store, the man finally brought him out of the basement.

At first he'd just be brought out when the man had company over. Scantily clad women, men who smelled like alcohol. They'd look him over, never questioning why the man had a young boy. Sometime's they'd reach out, stroke their fingers over his arms or through his hair. Women and even some men would compliment his looks, mostly on his teeth and his eyes.

It was maybe two or three months in when things started to turn for the worse.

Winter use to be fun times. Snowball fights, making snow men with Emma, the two would go out with their parents and they'd ice skate across the lake when the ice was thick enough. Now it was going out with no shoes on, his feet hurting so bad when he was brought back inside. The man always went outside with him, as if Jack would run away. And at times, he thought of running, but he had no idea where he was. How could he run when he didn't even know what direction his home was?

He recalled one night with the man when the snow had just recently fallen, being led out to the nearby pond. The ice hadn't been thick yet, thin enough for the man to knock a decent sized hole into it.

Young Jack had been brought to the hole, fighting with the man when he was pushed down onto his knees. The ice was so cold as he head was pushed under water, the air escaping him and his mouth drinking down the ice cold pond water.

As the years went by, it remained like that. Jack slept very few hours in the basement, brought out as if some sort of trophy to the strangers friends. So often going out in the cold with nothing to protect his feet to the point where the cold stopped bothering him. There was the ice water being swallowed down, and sometime's there was a time when the man would just come down and hold him. He wouldn't touch him inappropriately, he'd just pull Jack onto his lap and wrap his arms around him.

He'd finally escaped when the man had started to become reckless. He'd come down, like he always did, and pull Jack onto his lap. He stayed like that until the drunken haze lulled him to sleep. Jack had carefully moved off the man's lap, slipping as silently as he could up the steps. He'd left the building, not even taking a glance back when he left in the night.

Out of all that time spent there, Jack wished his younger self had tried to get a name out of the stranger. He should have looked for a phone to contact the police, but all he had thought about was an escape, and he had found it.

With a shiver, Jack brought himself out of his thoughts. He'd told everything he recalled to Mary, the woman having taken him in since he got discharged from the hospital. She had offered going to the police, filing some sort of report in case this guy was still out there. But Jack was unsure if they should do that, it had been years now since he last saw his kidnapper.

Was he still doing it? Or had taking Jack been just a one time thing?

Pulling himself to his feet, Jack turned away from the hospital, walking down the sidewalk and away from the building that currently sheltered his boyfriend.

. . . .

It was the sharp sting of pain that woke Hiccup up at four in the afternoon. His leg was throbbing, his hands reaching down to try and sooth the pain, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. There were voices trying to calm him down, trying to shush him when he realized he was screaming.

There was Astrid, her eyes large and her hands reaching out to comfort him. He could hear the stern voice of his father, feeling his large hands on his shoulders as he tried to hold Hiccup down. His green eyes were searching, trying to find a pair of familiar icy blue's that belonged to his boyfriend. Where was Jack? His lips parted, calling out the boy's name.

Astrid bit at her lip, her eyes meeting Stoick's as they heard Hiccup call out for Jack. And when the boy did not get any call back from the male he was looking for, it almost broke Stoick and Astrid's heart as he fell back into the bed, tears and whimpers of pain leaving him as he sobbed for his mother.

A nurse had come in, holding out a small paper cup of water and a pill to Stoick. It was suppose to relieve the boy of his pain, but it wouldn't relieve him of his want for his mother or the comfort that could be given to him by his boyfriend. Sighing, Stoick turned his gaze to where Hiccup lay. He had tried to pull his leg up, to grasp at what was left and to try and ease the pain, but his father's large hands had kept him from doing so.

"Here, Hiccup." Stoick offered the pill and water over to him.

Tear filled green eyes opened, looking up at the objects held out to him. His hands were shaking, his teeth screaming at him as he grit down on them to try and ignore the pain coming from his leg.

Swallowing down the pill, Hiccup let his head rest back on the pillow under him. He let his eyes close, waiting for the pill to kick in and for the pain to seep away. Stoick had pulled his arms away, standing back by the bed and watching Hiccup. Astrid had curled up in the chair, knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

Letting out a breath, Hiccup focused his attention to his father. "Where's Jack?"

Anger first came to him, angry that Hiccup would still want to be around the male who had caused him to be in this accident. But next came the sadness, in the fact that it hadn't been his name that Hiccup had called for comfort. Had he really messed up that bad with Hiccup, that the boy couldn't even find comfort with being around him?

"We don't know Hiccup. He hasn't been here in days, and he won't answer any text or phone call." Astrid answered him, pulling her phone out to check if maybe Jack had finally gotten back to one of her messages.

Sighing, the female opened a new text, her fingers angrily hitting at the buttons. She didn't care that she had misspelled words, or that she had forgotten to shift out of capitals and now her words now looked as angry as she felt that the white haired teen had yet to come see his boyfriend. Practically stabbing the send button with her thumb, she stuffed the phone into her pocket.

"I'm going to get myself a drink. You guys want anything?"

Pulling herself out of the chair, Astrid's eyes went from Stoick to Hiccup, and then back to Stoick. Hiccup ignored her question, his eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. Stoick shook his head, and nodding her own, the female left to give the two time alone.

Ilamazzobro - Yeah.. Chapter title might need to be changed. I have no idea now why I called it Mistake.. I can only guess I was listening to Demi's song Mistake at the time I was working out the chapter titles. That's the only logical explanation I can come up with haha.

Tigermike83 - Hiccup was pretty banged up from the car accident, but I'm sure they would have taken notice to his injuries left over from Pitch.

LittleIcicle - While I can't say much for any upcoming fanfics.. *cough* I'd never kill Jack off here. Not when things are going to get better for him and Hiccup.

So, I told you guys a little bit about the next fic. It's going to be based around February, it's going to be HiJack with a side of Rapunzel and Flynn. But I'm at war with the title.. I was either going with Playing Cupid or Tangled Up With Cupid. What do you guys think? I like both, but I'm just.. Undecided which to use as the title.