A/N: These few chapters have been very difficult to write and are pretty dark in tone.
WARNING: Severe angst ahead, along with some psychological, physical and emotional abuse and suicidal thoughts.
Thirty Six.
Stoick's head swung round to stare at him.
"What do you mean 'No'?" he growled. Hiccup blinked and felt his entire body tighten with fear.
"I mean NO," he said firmly. "I will NOT become your Heir again. You didn't want me. You called me a disgrace to Berk, a disappointment, an embarrassment. You told me you were ashamed that I was your son. You made Snotlout your Heir and stated you were proud you had such a fine Viking as your successor. So keep him. I refuse."
He stared across the stunned village, the room suddenly silent. The crackle of the fires sounded astonishingly loud and his green eyes scanned the faces. There was shock, astonishment and anger that he had rejected the honour they bestowed upon him. He saw the twins with sagging jaws, saw Olaf Hofferson look at him with worry and Fishlegs mouth something…maybe 'Are you okay?'.
"It is my WILL!" Stoick shouted.
"You never listened to me," Hiccup said breathlessly, his eyes pleading to Gobber and Gothi to help him. "You imprisoned me. You stop me going out. You have prevented me riding. You're isolating me. And you ignore everything I say or want. I was your Heir but you took that away."
"And I want you back!" Stoick snarled. "I have named you my Heir again."
"No," Hiccup said quietly. "You made your choice, Dad. I made mine. I want to leave. Let me go."
"No, son-you came back," Stoick said, trying to be reasonable. "You forgave…"
"NO, I NEVER FORGAVE YOU!" Hiccup shouted desperately, staring at at the shocked villagers. "I never forgave you. You were never sorry. You just went back to exactly how you were. You talk over me, make me do only what you want-and take away everything that makes me…me. I won't become your Heir. I won't become YOU!"
Stoick grabbed the boy by the tunic and his face darkened red with rage. He shoved him across to Hoark and nodded. "Take him to my house," he growled. "I will deal with him later." Then he turned back to the village. "He is tired and ill," he said angrily. "That is the fever speaking. Hiccup is our Heir once more and he will make us all proud."
But as the boy was hauled out the door, all he could hear was the fury on his father's voice and he knew that he would pay a terrible price.
oOo
When the door slammed open, it was dark and late and he was trembling-cold, hungry and afraid. After making a fire and lighting candles, Hiccup had folded the fine cloak away and scooched up to his room on his rear. He had grabbed a little water and made up the draught Gothi had instructed and he was longing to take off the wooden peg leg…but he felt he needed to be able to stand on his own two feet when the worst happened. And as Stoick raged up the stairs, he knew it was about to.
"You little bastard!" Stoick roared and lunged at him. Hiccup staggered back out of range, swallowing.
If only. I would be safe then, he thought despondently.
"I told you that you would pay!" he swore. "That Nadder is…"
"If you harm one scale on her, Dad, I will shame you and Berk to every visitor that ever sets foot on the island!" Hiccup swore, suddenly calm. "I will never be what you want me to be! And I will damage you! You know I can!" Stoick stared at him, then raised his fist and hit him. Unstable, unprepared, Hiccup went down with a crash, his head spinning and tasting blood in his mouth. He lay on his front, breathing hard.
"You will not defy me," Stoick swore. "I promised I would make your life Hel!"
"You already did!" Hiccup shouted at him, raising his head and staring up. "You did for years, tearing my confidence to pieces. Tearing me down in front of the village. Never standing up for me or even asking if I was okay. My life was Hel before-and you have managed to make it worse! Way to go!" He suddenly felt numb. Stock lurched forward, his fist clenched and he felt a shudder of fear run through him. "It's easier, isn't it, Dad? After that first time, hitting me? Each time, it's easier to raise a hand and strike me." Stoick grabbed his hair and hauled him up, then put his full force into a slap that spun the boy around and dumped him on the wooden floor once more.
"You will not defy me, boy!" he roared. "You will obey my will!"
"You want me as a performing seal!" Hiccup cried, his voice thick from his swollen mouth where the slap connected. "You want to parade me-look at my son-a weakling, one-legged runt but he still killed the monster dragon!-but I won't do it. You have stopped me going out, stopped me working, stopped me flying. You have taken everything I value. You have taken my life and made me a prisoner, a slave!"
"You think this is slavery?" Stoick snarled.
"No freedom, forced to do what you want, punished if I disobey, humiliated…yeah, feels much like it," Hiccup breathed, his voice shaky. He could hear his father's furious breathing, see the shadow looming over him in the candlelight and saw the flash of a knife. He froze and wondered if he had pushed Stoick too far, if he would just be killed. He felt a hand grab his hair and he felt his head dragged back.
"If you think this is slavery, I'll help make it more real for you!" Stoick snarled and the knife flashed. Suddenly, the pressure eased and a handful of hair fell past his face. Hiccup gaped as his father grabbed another handful of hair and hacked it off. "This was your punishment for the villagers," he snarled, sawing away at another hank of hair. "Try it, boy, See how you like looking like a slave!"
Shaking, his head spinning from the blows and fever, Hiccup just froze as his father sawed away. Finally, the Chief dragged the boy up by his tunic and glared into the white and bruised face. "I told you I would make you life Hel," he growled. "This is just the beginning-unless you obey me, boy!" The final punch dumped him hard on the floor as the footsteps receded. His hands closed on the uneven clumps of his auburn hair and his eyes filled with tears of pain and fear and hopelessness. Finally, mercifully, blackness claimed him.
oOo
Fishlegs felt awkward about knocking on the door of the Chief's House, but he forced himself to do it anyway. He had promised Astrid and she had looked very firm-and had been wearing her axe. Besides, he had been looking at Hiccup and the boy had looked so desperate when he refused to become the Heir that Fishlegs had felt his entire chest hurt with pity for the boy. Hiccup had been so isolated and despised that it must have taken a terrible thing for him to reject all that acceptance by the Tribe, to throw away the one thing he had always sought. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
Stoick had admitted him, accepting his assurances that he wanted to ask Hiccup some questions about training his dragon. Hiccup was the acknowledged expert and Stoick guessed allowing the boy to feel as if he had some meagre connection with the reptiles may appease his complaints. So Fishlegs had warily climbed up the stairs to Hiccup's loft-a place he had last been over five years earlier when the boy still had friends and hope. And he found him huddled in a corner, his legs drawn up to his chest, his face buried in his knees.
Fishlegs gaped. His hair had been hacked carelessly away, leaving a very short and uneven cut. As the boy warily glanced up, he saw that Hiccup's face was swollen with bruises and his lips were swollen and cut. Stoick had really taken his anger out off the boy. He walked closer and peered down on the skinny shape. And his eyes lingered on the crude, wooden peg leg-so greatly inferior to the customised metal one Gobber had created for the boy that it was almost an embarrassment.
"Hiccup?" he asked timidly. The boy blinked and his green eyes focussed on the husky shape in front of him.
"Fishlegs?" he murmured. "What-what are you doing here?" Fishlegs knelt before him.
"Trying to see you," he murmured urgently. "How are you?" Hiccup gave a small shrug, his battered face passive.
"My leg's bad, I've been beaten and I'm locked up," he said tonelessly.
"You-you haven't forgiven us, have you?" he guessed, Hiccup's weary eyes flicked up.
"You were already forgiven, Fish, when you offered me your friendship," he said quietly. "I am so sorry they didn't do as I asked…" The larger boy gave a sigh.
"Where's Toothless?" he asked. Hiccup's eyes filled with misery.
"I-I don't know," he whispered. "I sent him off with Astrid…and then I was captured. They have Stormfly and I am threatened with her life if I disobey…but I couldn't accept what he offered. I'm already a prisoner in the house, not allowed out, not allowed to work or fly…I guess you are only allowed to see me because you are trustworthy…" He closed his eyes. "I want Toothless," he whimpered. "I want Astrid!" Fishlegs leaned closer.
"I have seen her," he whispered. "She wants to know how you are. She doesn't believe you wanted to come back." Hiccup looked up.
"No secret there," he murmured. "I thought she would run so I sent her with Toothless. But then my Dad showed and I was so glad he was safe and not in Dad's clutches. But then I guessed I would never see him again." He paused. "Life without Toothless is not worth living, Fish. If I can't get to him soon, I know I can't carry on." Fishlegs gaped.
"Don't do anything stupid!" he gasped. "She'll come. He'll come. You gotta hang on." He swallowed and inspected his hands, clumps of his hair still clasped in his palm.
"I…don't know if I can…" he whispered. "I can't even get to go out. I-I don't know what my Dad will do next…but I am scared, Fishlegs…" The larger boy paused and sighed heavily.
"All I know is that he is really keen for you to be presented to the Chiefs of our allied tribes, to tighten our protection because there have been rumours that we have gone soft…with all the dragons now living on the island," Fishlegs said quietly. "Some want to drive them off but Gobber and I have managed to persuade them that would cause more bloodshed. I suggested…your plan with the stables and feeding stations but no one wants to listen."
"No one ever wants to listen," Hiccup said quietly. His hands were shaking. "I don't think they'll ever acknowledge what they did-and so nothing will change. And Berk will be trapped here and now, in the past. Nothing will move forward." He buried his face in his knees. "Thor, give me strength, now more than ever. And if you see Astrid-tell her to hurry! I really can't stand much more…" Fishlegs laid a kindly hand on the boy's thin shoulder.
"My Mum sent these," he muttered and gave Hiccup a couple of his mother's famous fishcakes. The boy paused for a second or so before tearing into them ravenously: he had been given no food at all since the previous lunchtime. The larger boy watched him with sad eyes: there was a blanket of utter despair over the smaller boy and he was very worried his friend would do something stupid. "I'll tell Astrid now!" he promised. Then he leaned close and his voice was very worried. "Just…please…hang on, Hiccup. She needs to make sure she doesn't come when Stoick is here or she and Toothless may be captured…or worse!" Hiccup looked up and fashioned a very small smile.
"I'll try," he murmured, running his hands over his short and spiky hair. "I'll try…"
oOo
As the day wore on, alone and unregarded, Hiccup curled in on himself even more. He glanced arose the room, seeing his few things that he had left when he ran last time and he achingly picked up his sketch book and charcoal. Slowly, his hand slid across the page, drawing from memory the familiar black shape with the big green eyes, the furled wings and half-tail: Toothless, his best and truest friend. The one who had never let him down.
But as the charcoal gently shaded the dark body, tears began to drip onto the page and the boy realised he was weeping. He stopped drawing but the tears kept coming: he felt utterly alone with no idea if he would ever seen his friend again, ever even be allowed to walk into the forest towards their cove once more. If he would ever be allowed to be Hiccup. The charcoal dropped from his shaking hand and he fumbled then slowly drew his belt knife.
It would be quick and simple: no one would bother to check on him until it would be a long time too late. One quick cut and then just wait as his blood dripped away and all the pain left with it. One quick cut and it would all be like going to sleep, leaving all his horrible life behind. He would finally see his Mom and maybe Toothless would one day forgive him for leaving him alone. Maybe…maybe Astrid would as well… even though he had promised to stay with her. Would Toothless even understand? Would he understand when he came why Hiccup was lying pale and still, having opened his veins because he didn't have the strength to wait for them to come? Because Hiccup was too much of a coward to try to struggle on any longer?
No. They would come. Toothless always came.
So he…he couldn't give up, no matter how scared and hurt and alone he felt. No matter how hungry and in pain and hopeless he was.
The knife clattered to the floor and he dropped his hand to the smudged picture of the Night Fury, his wide eyes staring trustingly up at his friend. "I-I can't l-leave you-you, b-bud…" Hiccup sobbed, almost beyond speech. He bent forward, over the sketchbook. "Please h-hurry…" he whispered. "Before I run out of courage…"
But as he lay there, sobs shaking his hopeless shape, a thud sounded above him and a small croon rumbled overhead. He stiffened and lifted his head slightly as he heard the roof hatch creak open and a familiar pair of sea-blue eyes peered down into the gloomy room.
"Hiccup?" Astrid called softly. "Are you okay?" He swallowed and lifted his battered tear-soaked face, his shining green eyes meeting hers.
"No," he murmured, his voice broken with despair. "P-please, Astrid…Help me…"