Untold
Chapter 35 - Vikings Don't Get Sick Part 1
Summary: Hiccup is sick and in terrible denial. From my own imagination, based off my sickness back in March.
A/N: Alright, this was originally my own idea that I planned to write wayyyyy back when I updated Casualty. Wow XD how time flies. I only received more motivation for it by two people, BlackBlood and Jesusfreak, requesting it. So. This is for them :)
Sorry it's not I'm With You. Can you guys understand?
The sunlight was too bright, and it hurt my eyes. I closed my eyes again with a quick groan, trying not to think about how much I didn't want to get up. It was late winter, but it was cold enough in the room that my teeth chattered. I tugged the blanket up closer to me, snuggling closer to Toothless. My eyes slid open again and I took in the room, which seemed strangely blurry to my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut instantly again, remembering how bright the sun was today. All I wanted to do was sleep.
Be a man, Hiccup. C'mon, get up.
Reluctantly, I sat up, brushing sweaty strands of hair out of my eyes. I heard Toothless give a slight noise of surprise when he realized I was no longer laying next to him, but I ignored him. When I tried to exhale, out came a cough instead.
"C'mon, Toothless." When I spoke, it was a raspy whisper. "We gotta…gotta get to the forge."
When I tried to walk, it was more of a stumbling gait, and not just because of my prosthetic. My throat felt like it was on fire, and I couldn't swallow without pain. I could hardly breathe through my nose, and I couldn't smell anything, either.
Putting a hand to my forehead and feeling how hot it was, I sighed a bit. It was a common cold, I guessed, and I could take it.
All the same, it was annoying.
I tried to take a breath through the nose, and, finding I couldn't, tried to take one through my mouth instead. As I did this, I stumbled slightly, tripping over my own feet and closing the distance between myself and the floor fast. I landed on my knees at the bottom of the stairs, slightly unsure what had happened. I had been standing on the fifth stair and suddenly, I'd just wound up on the floor.
With a groan, I pulled my legs up to my chest, trying to gather enough strength to stand. The door swung open then and I turned, expecting to see Gobber asking me why I hadn't been at the forge hours ago. Judging by the position of the sun alone, I was sure his workday had started long ago.
Stoick leaned against the door to close it, massaging his temple with two fingers. When he looked up, though, his face was perfectly calm, the dark circles under his eyes practically disappearing with an affectionate smile. "Good morning, sleepyhead, I didn't think you'd ever…" his smile disappeared, his voice trailing off as he realized where I was. "Are you alright? You didn't fall down the stairs again, did you?"
"Maybe," I choked, getting to my feet and swaying a little. Stoick came around behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders to steady me.
"What's wrong?" he whispered, studying me with a look that spoke of parental concern way too clearly.
"Nothing!" I tried to shoot him a smile, eager to get him off my back. The last thing I needed was for him to know I was sick. Vikings aren't supposed to get sick. Then again, we're not supposed to get cold or tired, either, and I get like that way too easily. "I'm— I tried to say fine, but I had to interrupt myself to cough. "—fine," I managed when I'd stopped.
Stoick raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You certainly don't look it. You look horrible."
"Thank you," I replied sarcastically.
He wasn't amused, but then, I guess it wasn't a joke. "No, Hiccup, you look sick."
"Vikings don't get sick!" I crossed my arms and glared up at him.
Confusion was apparent on his face for a second. He blinked and shook his head. "Hiccup…where did you hear that?"
"Outcast Island." I mumbled reluctantly.
Stoick rubbed his face tiredly. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, Outcast Island is not exactly full of the best teachers."
"No, I know," I insisted. "But, really, they don't. And I'm a Viking. Therefore, I'm not— I took a pause to sneeze. "—sick," I finished.
"So what would you diagnosis yourself with?" he asked, putting a hand to my forehead, raising an eyebrow in my direction. Drawing back with a bit of a start, he added, "Odin, Hiccup, you're burning up."
"I'm just under the weather," I insisted. "And Vikings don't get fevers!"
"Yes they do," Stoick responded stubbornly. "Now you need to get some rest."
"I have to go to the forge."
"I'll explain the situation to Gobber."
"I'm not sick."
"Yes, you are."
"I'll be fine."
"You're not going to work in that state. And if you try, I'll just tell Gobber to send you straight home."
He glared down at me for a second, waiting for me to try and find a loophole. I looked away from his glare. "Fine," I grumbled. "Then I won't go to the forge."
"Do you promise to go upstairs and rest?"
He had me and he knew it. I scuffed my prosthetic against the wooden floor, causing it to jar my stump a little.
In truth, the idea of rest sounded fantastic. I'd slept so late, but I was still exhausted. It wasn't helping that my whole body ached, and my throat burned.
But that was so besides the point. I yawned again behind my hand, shooting him a glare. "I don't need rest."
"Yes, you do," he told me stubbornly. "Hiccup, whether or not you want to admit it, you're sick and rest will help you."
"I'm not sick," I protested. "I'm just under the weather!"
"Either way, you're getting your under the weather butt back in bed," he ordered. It wasn't a request anymore, and there was to be no arguing with him.
I turned and stalked right back up the stairs, hearing his footsteps behind mine.
When I reached my room and sat back down on the bed, trying not to admit to myself how badly I wanted to go back to sleep, Stoick gave me a gentle shove, sprawling me out on my back. He gently tugged the covers up to my chin, ruffling my hair in a worried sort of way. "Stay warm."
"I'm a Viking," I mumbled. "I don't get cold."
I heard him give a soft, booming chuckle, felt him dropping a quick kiss on my forehead.
When I heard the door opening but not closing, I opened my eyes to see Stoick standing at the door, a faint half-smile on his face.
"Do you need something?" I leaned up on my elbow to ask.
His smile disappeared. "Oh, no. I was only thinking…do you need me to stay?"
The idea of him hovering over me all day like a concerned mother hen made me wince, but I also couldn't deny a kind of warmth spreading through me when I thought about how much he cared.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," I responded. "Really."
The concern in his eyes never faded. He came around to the side of the bed again and hugged me tightly. "Just…be okay. Okay?"
"Yes, sir," I nodded with a mock salute.
He offered me a half-smile, sweeping my hair back from my forehead and putting a hand on it.
I rolled my eyes. "You do know I'm not on my deathbed?"
"That isn't funny!" He responded sharply. "There are all those diseases intruding from other islands, you don't know what this is! It could be so much bigger than a cold!"
Taken aback by his vehemence, I could do nothing but stare as I tried to find my voice. "I…I was only…"
"Don't say you were joking," Stoick said, but he seemed to have calmed down a bit. "Hiccup, I lost you once. How do you think it feels to constantly be reminded that I could lose you again, at any second?"
He kissed my forehead gently. "You're just getting hotter," he whispered concernedly.
"I'm alright," I insisted, even though I knew he wouldn't listen.
He left the room then, but just before closing the door, he peeked inside and whispered, "I love you, okay?"
My tongue tangled around the relatively simple four-word response. Even when he said it first, it was unimaginably hard to force myself to say the words, not because they weren't true. By the time I'd managed to spit them out, he'd already shut the door.
"I love you, too," I whispered to an empty room.
It seemed Stoick had turned even Toothless against me. Every time I tried to get up, he would shove me right back down, his green eyes filled with concern.
"I'm really okay," I tried to reassure him, but this was followed by a long bout of coughing and I don't think he was convinced.
"Really," I insisted when I saw him looking at me again, "C'mon. Let's go flying."
But he would have none of it. He pulled me closer with his tail, nuzzling my hair with his nose. I giggled slightly from the tickle, but I realized he was attempting to lull me to sleep, and I tried to push against him. "Stop it, let me go! C'mon, let's just go."
He simply continued to nuzzle and moan, holding me tenderly against him as he licked me.
I could feel my eyelids beginning to flutter closed as the calming lullaby of his moans brought me closer to sleep.
"Toothless," I yawned, trying to be stern as I rolled over, allowing my eyes to close. "Stop it."
The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was a soft dragon laugh.