Toothless jolted awake, a whine of pain escaping his lips before he was fully aware of his surroundings. His tail fin, the missing one, was throbbing and burning, the pain so real that he could almost see ghostly muscles and skin twitching in the empty gap where a living fin used to be. He whined again, closing his eyes and whimpering as the pain increased dramatically. He could already tell that it was going to be an extremely bad night.
"Bud?" Hiccup sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "What's going o—"
Toothless shrieked suddenly as the pain rocketed upwards and started to flail, which would have been embarrassing except his tail hurt. Oh gods, it was burning and pinching and something with extremely sharp teeth was tearing into his tail fin, shredding flesh and crushing bones and—
"Bud!" Hiccup flung the covers away, almost falling over in his hurry to get to Toothless.
Help me, Toothless begged with his eyes, shrieking again as the awful gnawing sensation increased, every scale slowly being ripped out of his tail, nails mercilessly driving through his skin—
"I've got you, bud. I've got you," Hiccup muttered, clumsily weaving past Toothless' whipping wings and diving for the thrashing tail. He grabbed it in both hands, his small weight dragging around as Toothless writhed in agony.
Touch, physical touch on the scar where his tail fin had been, forced his brain to accept what was real and what wasn't. His tail still burned, itching and smarting, but Toothless swallowed his shriek with a gulping gurgle, grasping for control of his limbs again.
Gradually, he calmed his tail and legs, setting Hiccup down on the bed. He shook with echoing pangs, pain dragging through his tail, all the way up to the base of his spine and pooling there, before falling back down to the tip of his tail. Hiccup sat on the stone slab, his human hands gently squeezing and massaging the scar tenderly, encouraging him with soft words. Toothless crooned shakily, still aching and hurting, but far better now that Hiccup was there.
"Atta boy, Toothless," Hiccup crooned, his voice almost draconic, and Toothless crooned right back.
Thank you, he purred to Hiccup. Thank you so much.
The pain gradually faded to a dull ache over the next few hours, and Hiccup stood up stiffly, heading back to his own bed. Toothless fired his bed again, heating the rock up to a comfortable temperature, then curled up with his tail in front of his face.
The single tail fin stared at him accusingly, but he didn't feel any regret or bitterness. Yes, it might hurt every so often, and, yes, it might be annoying and downright dangerous when he and Hiccup were separated in mid air, but in return he'd met Hiccup. The small Viking was stubborn and reckless, had almost killed them both several times with his insistence on trying to settle things peacefully, but Toothless loved him for it. There was something magical about depending on another being completely, and their relationship was far deeper than any of the other dragon-rider pairs because of their disabilities.
Toothless wouldn't have his tail fin back, not for all the fish in the ocean
It was the day for his annual inspection the next day, the day when Fishlegs updated the Night Fury page in the Book of Dragons. It involved several tests and measurements, from speed and endurance to standing still while Fishlegs measured the space between his nostrils, and frankly, the whole process bored him to death.
Toothless sighed happily when Fishlegs finally finished prodding him, and immediately trotted over to Hiccup, who'd been waiting patiently on the sidelines for the past half hour. Hiccup grinned, the happiest Toothless had seen him for a long time, and he tilted his head inquisitively. Good day?
"The best, bud," Hiccup said dreamily, absentmindedly scratching Toothless' head. Toothless crooned, happy that his rider was happy. Maybe he'd spent the day with Astrid; he always came back happy, and sometimes breathless and red in the face, from her.
When they got home, Hiccup had already set out supper for them; a cooked fish on a plate for himself, and a large basket of raw fish for Toothless. The fish were still slightly damp from the sea, and Toothless ate with enthusiasm; fish were always better fresh. Hiccup smiled again, still mysteriously happy, and Toothless raised his ears. What had Hiccup been doing?
"I'm sorry you were stuck with Fishlegs today," Hiccup said, picking up his plate and dunking it in the bucket of water in the corner. "Let's go on a long flight tomorrow, okay?" Yawning, he started up the stairs.
Toothless was confused; normally they sat by the fire for a while before going to sleep, but if Hiccup was tired, then he'd gladly go to bed with him.
Toothless wriggled in excitement as he climbed the stairs, especially when he thought about what they'd do the next day. 'Long flight' meant at least four hours, and that meant four glorious hours of being in the air with Hiccup.
Curling up on his rock slab, the fire-heated surface warm beneath his scales, Toothless crooned quietly at Hiccup. I love you.
Hiccup rolled over onto his back and smiled sleepily. "Love you too, bud."
Everything was perfect.
Toothless blinked awake at dawn, as normal. He could hear Hiccup, snoring quietly in the way Toothless privately thought was adorable. Sun streamed in through the window, peeking round the edges of his tail fin, and he lifted his tail up to begin the day.
Something was wrong.
Toothless felt the sense of balance that came with his fake-tail fin, but he wasn't wearing it. There was no red tail fin attached to his tail, but there had to be something there; the weight was evenly spread—
There was a second tail fin on the end of his tail.
Toothless thought his heart would stop with shock. He shook his tail hard, hoping that Hiccup had simply strapped an auto-tail to him while he slept. His breathing sped up when he couldn't hear the rattle of gears or the creaking of joints, coming in heaving gasps of panic. No! Toothless quickly glanced over at the bed. Hiccup was still asleep, good. This had to be some sort of engineering miracle. If it wasn't… He closed his eyes tightly, an invisible band constricting around his chest.
He dropped his tail onto the floor, and felt the wooden boards through not just one, but two tail fins. Only just holding back a cry of despair, Toothless brought his tail to his face again and looked at it closely, still illogically hoping he'd find a clasp or a buckle, something that would let him take it off. The right tail fin was the same as always, flesh and bone.
The left one was the same.
When he nudged it, he felt the contact on his tail and his nose, forcing him to accept reality.
He had two tail fins again.
Toothless flexed his tail, seeing the fins move in perfect sync, even better than the auto-tail.
It was horrible.
"How do you like it, bud?" Toothless whipped his head around and saw that Hiccup was awake and sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning forward eagerly. "Gothi spent ages working on the potion until it was just right."
It was a potion that had performed the horrible miracle, Toothless absently noted, his mind sluggish with shock. Hiccup was still waiting for an answer, his eyes shining with happiness for Toothless. Should Toothless let Hiccup know that he hated the gift—the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him—with every fibre of his being, or should he lie?
He leapt up with an energy he didn't feel, and licked Hiccup's face with an enthusiasm that was completely forced. He didn't want to hurt his human's fragile feelings. Besides, he couldn't do anything about it.
It was a permanent change.
Permanent… Toothless kept licking Hiccup, fighting back tears and battling the lump in his throat. That was it. He'd never fly properly again, not with his real tail fin, the red one. He could have chuckled or cried at the irony. Just a few short years ago, when he was trapped in the cove, he'd gladly have taken a living tail fin and flown off into the sky without a backwards glance. But now, after getting to know Hiccup, flying felt empty without him—Snoggletog had been hard enough, his human should have known how he felt by now!
Flying! They were going for a long flight today, Hiccup had promised. Hopefully it wouldn't be too bad as long as Hiccup was still riding on his back, but Toothless couldn't stop the apprehension rising in his chest. He'd liked his red tail fin, the way it represented how much Hiccup cared for him.
Now it was gone.
Toothless landed on the ground, glad to get out of the sky. He stumbled a little when his feet touched the grass just behind their house, all his muscles aching after almost ten hours of continuous flying. Hiccup had wanted to try out all sorts of dangerous tricks now that Toothless could catch him properly, and Toothless' wings and tail fins all thrummed with exertion. Worst of all, the actual flying had been the worst he'd ever done. He missed the clicking noises the gears made when Hiccup twitched the pedals. He missed the familiar weight down one side, and kept finding himself leaning too far to the right, unconsciously compensating for something that wasn't there. He missed the way the fake-tail fin shaped the flow of air under his right tail fin. It just wasn't the same, and Toothless wanted to scream in frustration, bitter tears welling in his eyes despite his best efforts.
Hiccup easily swung himself out of the saddle, landing on the ground next to Toothless. "How are you doing, bud?" he asked casually, unaware of the whirlpool of feelings inside his dragon. Toothless tossed his head once, sending the tears flying into the soft green grass, and managed to croon somewhat happily.
Hiccup smiled, reaching out to rub Toothless' head tenderly. Drawing comfort from the warm fingers, Toothless pushed into Hiccup's hand.
"I wish we could do it again tomorrow," Hiccup began, and Toothless' blood ran cold. He didn't want another day like that, not ever again. "But Gobber wants me in the forge."
Quelling a sigh of relief, Toothless lowered his head tiredly. It was strange how much energy it took to fly solo, even if the only difference was one tail fin. He slipped into the house through the large hatch in their room, while Hiccup used the smaller door.
"Enjoy your flight, son?" Stoick asked, sitting in front of the fire with his knife and a chunk of wood.
"It was great!" Hiccup said, enthusiastically. He launched into a description of one of their new tricks—not the most dangerous one, but only because Stoick would have a heart attack if he knew what they'd done. Toothless watched as Stoick nodded quietly, absorbing every word.
Slipping away as Hiccup reached the most exciting part, he silently slid up to their room and curled up on his stone slab tighter than normal, as though he could block out reality for a few hours if he tried hard enough. The double-finned tail mocked him, so he closed his eyes, hating the very sight of it.
Tap, thump, tap, thump, came Hiccup's mismatched footsteps up the stairs. "Bud?"
Toothless pretended to be asleep, keeping his breaths slow and shallow. He didn't feel like putting on a happy face for Hiccup, not after the disastrous day he'd had. To his surprise, the mismatched footsteps headed towards him, not Hiccup's bed. "That tired, huh?" Hiccup sighed, sitting down and leaning against Toothless' side. His small arm wrapped tightly around Toothless' neck. "I'm glad you liked it…"
Hiccup yawned, then stood up again and shuffled over to his bed. Toothless heard the small thunk as he dropped his prosthesis on the floor, then a rustle of material as he got under the thin blanket. His heart stirred guiltily; no matter what the reason was, he always hated lying to Hiccup. Despite his exhaustion, it took him a while to get to sleep.
Things kept getting worse and worse. The next day, Toothless tried to follow Hiccup around as usual, only to get told that he 'could fly now' and didn't have to 'tie himself down' to Hiccup. Shaken, Toothless leapt into the air and flew into the thick forest, curling up under the leafy trees, and tried to tell himself that it didn't mean anything.
As weeks, then months slipped by, Toothless felt more and more distant from Hiccup. Every time he pretended he was fine, and every time Hiccup believed it, the rift between them widened a little more. Flying, once one of the greatest pleasures in his life, was now a chore, and Toothless only flew when Hiccup specifically asked to go on a flight. He often spent days at a time on the ground. On the ground, he found it easier to imagine that everything was still as it should be, that the terrible sense of balance on his tail fin was just another one of Hiccup's inventions. Hiding from the problem, even if only slightly, felt far better than confronting it.
Whether it was the lack of exercise or his troubled mind, Toothless couldn't tell, but he found it harder and harder to get to sleep at night. Just three short months after his new tail fin, he would spend hours chasing rest, only to finally doze off as the sun rose, then wake up again after two or three hours of fitful sleep. He'd look up as Hiccup creaked down the stairs with a hurried, "See you later, bud." and occasionally a "Have a good day!", then shake his exhausted body awake and trot outside, into the forest where he could be away from people and dragons.
They didn't really talk anymore. Hiccup was always just about to leave when he woke up, and when Toothless returned at night, he was already asleep.
After four and a half months, Toothless couldn't be bothered to eat properly. He'd slurp a few fish at dinner time, when Hiccup was watching, but other than that he rarely ate. There was a longing in his chest for Hiccup, for the times when they used to be so close that they could practically read each other's minds, a longing so powerful it hurt—and his stomach's cries for food paled in comparison. Toothless missed Hiccup, and even though he saw him every day, he'd never felt so distant.
Curling up on his stone slab for yet another sleepless night, six months after the tail fin incident, Toothless watched Hiccup as he slept. His human looked so peaceful, his features relaxed and smooth. Unable to stop a small hiccuping sob as he remembered what they'd had, Toothless chose to wrap himself around the foot of Hiccup's bed. He wouldn't get any sleep anyway, so at least he would be close to Hiccup physically.
He didn't realise that someone heard his small cry, someone who almost always noticed when something was wrong with one of his villagers, especially when they were close to his son. Or used to be close, anyway, Stoick thought sadly to himself as he heard the small movements from upstairs, the same noises he heard well into the night far too often. I need to talk to Hiccup.
Hiccup was already gone when Toothless woke up the next day, and the loss of the small greeting left him feeling even hollower than normal. It was like he was being sucked dry, losing a little part of himself every time he and Hiccup drifted a little further apart. He would have given anything to take back his decision and just tell Hiccup how he felt, but the gap between them was too wide now. It felt like he was standing on the edge of a bottomless chasm shrouded in thick fog, and he couldn't even see the other side anymore. He knew that Hiccup was on the opposite side, but every roar, every firebolt, every desperate cry for help barely penetrated the mist ten metres in front of him.
He struggled to his feet, still just as tired as when he lay down yesterday evening, and glumly slid out the hatch in the window. Lethargically trudging into the forest, he automatically wound through the trees, just like every day for the past two months. He was physically and emotionally numb, too exhausted to feel anything. Hiccup almost never wanted to fly anymore, something Toothless was guiltily grateful for. He didn't think he could get into the air anymore—after months of inadequate food and sleep, he simply didn't have the strength.
The ground suddenly disappeared from under his feet, and Toothless instinctively flung out his wings, hating how easy it was to glide smoothly down into a bowl of green vegetation with a calm pond at the centre.
The cove.
His home for weeks, back when he was Hiccup's only friend.
Where they'd met.
It had always been their place, where they went when Hiccup couldn't take the pressure of being the Dragon Conqueror anymore. It didn't seem right for it to be only him, without Hiccup.
Standing in a place he'd been avoiding for months, Toothless let himself slump to the ground and simply feel, sobbing bitterly. He wasn't angry at Hiccup—he could never be angry at Hiccup—but he hated the root of the problem, that eel-infested moon-bitten dragonroot-soaked sky-cursed TAIL FIN!
Pulling it up to his face, he glowered sharply at the monstrosity. If eyes could shoot daggers, an expression he'd heard Hiccup use once, his tail fin would be sliced off within seconds.
Sliced off… he repeated to himself, more slowly and thoughtfully. He could… get rid of it. Why hadn't he thought of it before? His teeth were sharp and his bite was powerful, it could be done within seconds. The question was: should he do it?
He'd be tied to Hiccup again, relying on him for flight. More importantly, Hiccup would be tied to Toothless. He knew his rider utterly believed the words Gobber had said once, 'a downed dragon is a dead dragon', and if Toothless became flightless, then Hiccup would never leave him again. Did he want to do that to Hiccup?
Toothless' head told him to keep the tail fin, to let Hiccup live freely, but his heart was screaming at him, begging him to rip the tail fin off and bind Hiccup to his side again. Six months ago, he'd chosen to listen to his head and here he was, heartbroken and empty in the place that had always meant the most to him. Worn out from pretending, sick to his stomach of feeling so detached from his best friend, Toothless let his heart guide him.
He clamped his mouth around his left tail fin, braced himself, and pulled.
Stoick laid a hand on Hiccup's shoulder as he stepped out the door, making the small boy jump.
"Dad?"
"Sit down, son. There's something I need to tell you."
Hiccup's face passed through puzzlement and fear, then finally settled on apprehension. "What is it?"
Stoick turned around, heading back inside. "We should sit down."
Hiccup perched on his stool by the table, right in front of Stoick. "You know I've got work at the forge, right?"
That was the first problem. "No, you don't," Stoick told him. "Gobber says that you spend most of your time moping around, after finishing the whole day's work in the first hour or so. You're avoiding something."
Hiccup tried to pass it off. "N—no, I'm working, dad, really. I've got so many ideas in my head that I have to sort them out, a—and break them down, a—"
"You're avoiding your dragon," Stoick stated firmly, not giving Hiccup any room to maneuver.
"I—" Hiccup started, desperately searching for words. "I—"
"It's that tail fin." Again, calm and confident, no room for Hiccup to argue.
"Yes…" Hiccup finally said, not looking at Stoick.
Stoick sighed deeply, it was just as he'd feared. "Now, what are you going to do about it?"
Hiccup stared at him in shock. "What do you mean: what am I going to do about it? I can't tell Toothless, he likes his new tail so much, and—"
There it was, the moment he'd been waiting for. "He doesn't, son." Stoick watched as Hiccup's momentum faded.
"What?" The voice was incredulous, but a little hopeful too. "What do you mean?"
Stoick chose his words carefully. "Toothless has changed, haven't you noticed?"
"N—no. Tell me," Hiccup said, his green eyes wide.
"When was the last time you saw him eat?"
"He ate a cod last night."
"I mean properly, more than two or three fish."
Hiccup visibly had to think, casting his mind back. "I—I can't remember…" His voice was soft with shock.
"Or the last time he went to sleep before you?"
"I—I don't know—"
"The last time he flew for fun? Without you, I mean."
Hiccup was shaking, his face pale. "It was—It was—Oh, gods, how did I not see this!"
Stoick sat back, satisfied that his point had been made. "You might ha—"
A sudden draconic scream of pain shook the entire village, echoing through the house from the direction of the woods. Hiccup's face lost all colour, as white as ashes. "Toothless!"
Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow! Toothless screamed again, curling up and convulsing as pain ripped through him again and again. Gods, he'd completely forgotten how much losing a tail fin hurt. Ow ow ow ow ow!
It was far worse than any phantom pain he'd ever had, worse than the fall after defeating the Red Death, worse than anything he could remember. He could feel the pain across all his senses; a red haze covering his vision, a thundering in his ears, a sour taste on his tongue, a suffocating smell in the air. It was so overwhelming that he didn't hear the wingbeats until they were almost on top of him.
Skullcrusher landed heavily on the ground and Stoick—at least, Toothless thought it was Stoick, it was hard to tell through the thickening haze—jumped off the tall Rumblehorn, only just catching a small slim figure as it tumbled off the high saddle. Hiccup! Toothless tried to get to his feet, craving Hiccup's warm touch that he hadn't felt in far too long, but he couldn't. There was too much pain and his legs were too weak, so he watched helplessly, as Hiccup sprinted towards him, moving as fast as he could but still too slow. Hiccup… Toothless craned forwards, trying to hasten the moment of contact any way he could.
Finally, finally, Hiccup was there, wrapping his arms around Toothless' neck and holding him as he twisted in agony, shrieking as the raw, scalding, searing pain continued to crash over him in irresistable waves, building up and up until it smashed into him with a sickening jolt, again and again.
"I'm sorry, bud, I'm so, so sorry," Hiccup wept, pulling him onto his lap and gathering him in, and Toothless desperately pushed forwards, starving for his touch.
"Easy, Skullcrusher," Stoick muttered somewhere in the background, but Toothless could only focus on two things: the awful, excruciating pain, and Hiccup's overwhelming scent and touch and love, warding it away.
Then there was something heavy on his whipping limbs, pinning him to the ground. Toothless kept struggling, sobbing and choking in pain, and Hiccup was there in a way he hadn't been for the past five months, hushing and comforting and loving and muttering reassurances. Toothless soaked it up, his heart a dry husk that was gradually expanding again, relaxing into Hiccup's lap as best as he could.
"That's it, bud, you've got it. Gods, I should have noticed!" Toothless would have frowned and tried to reassure Hiccup if he hadn't been in so much pain. "You should have told me!"
Whining with guilt and pain, Toothless buried his nose under Hiccup's comforting arms. An instant later Hiccup took it back. "No, no, it's not your fault, it was never your fault. Gods, I'm a complete muttonhead!"
Stormfly landed softly in the cove and Astrid sprinted over. "Sir, is—Hiccup! Toothless!"
Hiccup looked up, his face tearstained. "Astrid, I messed up. I messed up so badly…"
No, you didn't! Toothless tried to croon at Hiccup, but it came out more like a groan. Astrid squatted on her heels next to Hiccup and scratched around Toothless' ears. She was used to Hiccup's habit of taking the blame for everything, and knew how to deal with it. "So, how are you going to fix it?"
Hiccup hesitated, unsure. He already is! Toothless licked Hiccup's hand gently, nudging it with his head, and Hiccup started scratching around his ears. Toothless slumped with pain, melting into Hiccup's warm embrace willingly. It felt so good to have his boy with him again, caring for him and loving him like he'd used to.
Stoick interrupted suddenly. "Astrid, I know you mean well, but could you and Stormfly go and get Gothi?"
"Yes, sir," Astrid said crisply, a warrior following her chief's orders. "What should I tell her?"
"Tell her that Toothless took his tail fin off."
Astrid froze, her mouth hanging open for a second. Then she pulled herself together and leapt onto Stormfly, leaving the ground and heading for Gothi's hut immediately.
"Dad, I—" Hiccup began, his voice anguished. Toothless crooned again, rubbing his cheek against Hiccup's arms. Don't you dare blame yourself.
"Aye, Toothless. Hiccup, can't you see that he doesn't blame you one bit?"
Hiccup stuttered some more. "But—I—There's got to be something I can do—"
Toothless groaned, the pain in his tail fin smothered his mind, but there was something he needed Hiccup to know—
"You already are," Stoick said firmly, resting his hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "He's pining for you, Hiccup.
Yes, yes, don't leave me again! Toothless used all his remaining strength to lift a shaking front paw and wrap it around Hiccup's thin body, pulling him closer.
"Bud…" Hiccup choked, unable to speak.
Tap, thump, thump, tap, thump, thump, came the slow, shuffling steps of Gothi with her staff. Letting his eyes close, Toothless drifted into Hiccup's scent, letting it numb his thoughts to a faint buzzing.
A heavy weight, probably Stoick, suddenly rested on Toothless' tail, just above his tail fins—tail fin! Remembering what he'd done, Toothless crooned both hopefully and guiltily at Hiccup. Would Hiccup make him drink more of that potion? Gods, he hoped not!
"It's alright, bud. It's your choice. It should have been your choice in the first place. I don't know how you could ever forgive me…"
I forgive you! Of course I do! Nudging his nose firmly into Hiccup's chest, Toothless purred quietly, so so glad Hiccup was there again. He'd been so lonely the past five months…
Something foul-smelling and gloopy was shoved into Hiccup's hands, almost but not quite spilling onto the ground. Toothless ignored it, still soaking up Hiccup's touch and scent and tender care like it would be snatched away from him at any moment.
To his shock and horror, Hiccup gently pushed him away. Betrayed, Toothless gazed up at Hiccup in fear, his heart rate doubling. Were they going to go back to—
"Hey, it's okay," Hiccup murmured softly, his hand rubbing gently behind Toothless' ears. "Don't look at me like that, you just need to take these painkillers."
His racing heart calmed, and Toothless stared suspiciously at the thick liquid. It really didn't look or smell like it would do any good. "Please?"
Hesitantly, he opened his mouth, then coughed and spluttered as Hiccup poured the revolting mixture onto his tongue. His taste buds shrivelled up in disgust, and his nostrils and eyes started to burn and water.
"I know, I don't like them much either," Hiccup commented as he gave Toothless a drink of water. "But I can promise you, it will help with the pain."
Still coughing, Toothless gave Hiccup a glare. Then the painkiller started to take effect and the deep ache in his tail gradually faded away. As a side effect, or maybe his lack of sleep, he started to yawn. His eyelids were so heavy… Hiccup's soft hands gently cupped his face, and Toothless' eyes flickered shut.
I love you… he crooned wearily, his head settling heavily onto Hiccup's lap again.
"I love you too," Hiccup crooned back, his voice fading as Toothless fell asleep.
The first thing Toothless noticed when he woke up was a horrible absence. His head wasn't on Hiccup's lap anymore, and there wasn't a warm presence lying against his side. Blinking back his panic with effort, at least for the moment, Toothless lifted his head, still heavy with sleep, to see where he was.
The walls of their attic room cocooned him, familiar and smothering. Confused by the loss of the cove, he swung his head around to see if anything else was wrong. A weight on the left side of his tail made him freeze. Even if he focused on his tail, it wasn't painful at all.
How—what—WHY?!
It was all as though he'd never been to the cove, never fixed his tail fin, never been reunited with Hiccup. He curled up in a tight ball, shaking.
Toothless couldn't breathe.
He gasped, choking for breath, but only managed tiny snatches of air that didn't help. His throat twisted in a knot around a sharp dagger in his neck, shredding itself a little more on the razor-like surface with every breath. He couldn't get enough oxygen.
Silently shuddering, trapped in smothering panic, Toothless tried to call for help. A small strangled whimper escaped his lips, but there was no chance anyone heard it.
Just as he was about to pass out, black spots darting across his vision, footsteps pounded up the stairs.
"Toothless?!" Stoick's voice rang out, filled with shock. A warm hand settled on his snout, rough and calloused, but Toothless couldn't focus on it, wrapped in cold, choking fear. "Hang in there, Toothless," Stoick ordered, and the pure authority in his voice shocked some sense into Toothless.
Every breath was a struggle, his lungs fighting him, but he got enough air to stay conscious, if barely. He heard Stoick's footsteps hurry down the stairs at a run, the wood flexing and creaking under his weight, then he was alone again.
He rested his head on his paws, closing his eyes and still gasping for air, strangely light headed. Gods, what if it had all been a dream? What if he still had both tail fins, and Hiccup was still avoiding him and he was avoiding Hiccup? Toothless knew he would die if he carried on like that, he knew it deep in his heart. He was so, so scared of losing Hiccup again, his rider, his best friend, his missing half. He controlled the right tail fin, Hiccup controlled the left. That was the way it should be. There wasn't any other way they could both be happy. Six months of doing it by himself was enough to finally shatter Toothless completely.
"Bud!"
Familiar, achingly familiar footsteps raced across the wooden floorboards, then there was a warm body completely wrapped around Toothless' head, trying to shield him from whatever was hurting him. Toothless instantly knew that it hadn't been a dream, Hiccup wouldn't have been so loving and scared if they were still distant. He shuddered and quaked, his small amount of control melting away.
Hiccup found himself sitting on the stone slab with an armful of distraught dragon, Toothless shaking and sobbing and breaking down in a spectacular fashion. Unsure what to do, Hiccup stroked and petted Toothless' head, trying to help him through the internal storm.
Pulled along in a whirl of emotions he'd been trying to ignore for months, Toothless let a silent scream of grief and fear escape his lips, air whooshing out of his lungs but not making a sound.
"What is it, bud?" Hiccup rubbed around his ears, the contact as familiar and right as it had felt the last time they'd done it—almost two months ago. Toothless sobbed hard, silent and violent.
There were so many negative feelings trapped inside him—rejection, loneliness, isolation and misery—and he was such a tiny outlet compared to them. But if he tried to contain them again, he feared he would rupture under the pressure.
Stoick's large hands rubbed across Toothless' back, not nearly as comforting as Hiccup's presence, but they helped him to relax a little. It was like trying to fly against a tornado: impossible. The harder he struggled the more it hurt, so Toothless finally surrendered and let his emotions take him where they would.
It took several hours of crying and being comforted for every last drop of gut-wrenching misery and loneliness to force its way out of Toothless, and he felt wrung out and exhausted by the end, his eyes bloodshot and blurry from shedding an ocean's worth of tears. Hiccup stayed with him the whole time, even though Stoick came and went. He thought Astrid might have come at one point, but he couldn't be sure.
A smothering whiteness had lifted from his mind, like paint had been washed away by his tears, and Toothless could sense the world fully again. The colours were brighter, the sounds clearer, the air cleaner, and it rubbed against him, almost scary in its intensity.
"Better?" Hiccup asked, as Toothless took a last shaky breath before letting it out in a long sigh.
So much, he crooned quietly, rubbing his face, sticky with half-dried tears, against Hiccup's arms.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Hiccup murmured, reaching into a nearby bucket of water someone must have brought at some point, and pulling out a small soft cloth. Cool against Toothless' saltcrusted cheeks, it gently dissolved the tear tracks and cleaned his scales. It also felt symbolic in a way, like Hiccup was wiping away the last evidence of their separation.
Blinking tiredly, Toothless noticed his throat felt dry and his tongue was parched in his mouth. He nudged Hiccup's hand wearily. He wanted to sleep for a week, but he also wanted to slake his thirst and satisfy his stomach, which reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything more than a single fish for at least two days, and hadn't had a proper meal for weeks.
"What is it, bud?" Hiccup patted his snout gently. "Do you need something?"
Toothless' stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, audible even to Hiccup's human ears.
"Hungry?" Nodding, Toothless swallowed. Hiccup got the message easily, as though they'd never fallen out of sync. "And thirsty. Don't worry, I've got it."
He slowly slid out from beneath Toothless' head, and stood up on half-asleep legs. Arching his back, Hiccup stretched his arms high above his head, then turned and walked down the stairs. Toothless sat by himself for a while, then shifted slightly to get more comfortable. He remembered the weight on his tail, and hurriedly brought it up to his face for a look.
On the right side, there was a living tail fin, black scales and bones. On the left, a mass of clean white bandages clung to his tail. Toothless hesitantly nudged it with his nose. Pain, muffled a little but not completely, tore halfway up his tail before losing momentum. Huh, Gothi's pain potion really worked, Toothless mused, relieved beyond belief, and a small smile worked across his lips. He dropped his tail on the floor gingerly, and rested his head on his paws.
Hiccup's mismatched footsteps made their way up the stairs, and Toothless looked up, drinking in the sight of the boy he could call his rider again, and purred happily.
"Here you go, ya big baby," Hiccup grinned, setting down a basket of fish. It was almost identical to the basket he'd brought to the cove everyday when they were first getting to know each other, a basket filled with good memories. He also had a bucket of water. Instead of letting Toothless stick his head in the bucket and drink, Hiccup gently lifted the bucket for him and poured the water down his throat.
As soothing water trickled down his dry throat, cool and refreshing, Toothless realised just how thirsty he'd been. He completely drained the bucket to quench his thirst, then sighed in contentment. Hiccup's hand on his head was the best thing he'd ever felt, made even more precious by the long absence. Purring quietly, Toothless rubbed his head under the warm fingers, enjoying every single second of contact, like a rain shower after a dusty drought.
"Now, you're going to eat something."
Half asleep, Toothless blinked his tired eyes awake again. There was a fish in front of his mouth, the smell reminding him that he was hungry—starving!
"Open up," Hiccup chuckled, and Toothless obediently let him place the fish on his tongue. It tasted fresh and vibrant, very different from the bland lumps of flesh he'd reluctantly swallowed under Hiccup's scrutiny when he had two tail fins. Even while the first fish was still sliding down his throat, Toothless asked Hiccup for the next one, his eyes wide and pleading.
"Gothi said you were close to malnourishment," Hiccup said quietly. "I never saw you eat more than a few fish at a time for the past month. What have you been doing to yourself?"
Eyes widening, Toothless looked back across himself. To his shock and horror, he noticed that his ribs, once covered in strong muscle, were plainly visible.
"You didn't notice?" Hiccup asked incredulously. "Bud, why didn't you eat?"
Didn't feel like it, he crooned quietly, drawing comfort from Hiccup's silent support. Not worth it without you.
"I—" Hiccup choked. "I hurt you so badly…" he murmured quietly. "I don't know how you can ever forgive me."
Toothless pulled away momentarily to glare at Hiccup. Think about it. What was it that hurt the most?
"The tail fin?" Hiccup said, avoiding the problem. Toothless shook his head, rolling his eyes. He brought a paw up to his chest and tapped it.
"You…?" Hiccup guessed, and he nodded, then butted Hiccup's chest with his head. "Me…?" Toothless nodded again. "You and me?"
Satisfied, Toothless nodded one last time, firmly.
"You and me. You and me." Hiccup thought hard. Pushing back into his hands, Toothless crooned in pleasure as Hiccup resumed petting him, taking the offered fish gladly.
"You missed our friendship?" Hiccup finally said, and Toothless hesitated. Missed was such a small word for the aching absence he'd felt…
"I missed you too," Hiccup muttered quietly. "But I honestly thought you were happier with your own fin. And when I was with you after that, it wasn't the same. I knew that you could just fly away if you wanted to and never come back. I thought that…"
His voice choked, as if he'd just realised something awful. "I thought that it was better for me to put distance between us, so that if you did fly away then it would hurt me less. I thought you'd leave eventually, no matter how much you said you loved me. I thought—I thought it was better for me to leave you, than for you to leave me!" he screamed angrily at himself, and Toothless whimpered in sympathy for Hiccup's pain. The hands on his head stilled, and he took over providing physical comfort, rubbing his head against Hiccup's chest and purring slowly. What happened was in the past, they didn't need to churn it over again and again.
"I—I put you through hell because I was insecure…" They were getting off topic. Toothless drew back again and looked at Hiccup, waiting. Hiccup's green eyes, lined with tears, gradually focused on him. When he had Hiccup's full attention, Toothless narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly, nudging him gently.
"But if I keep dwelling on it and regretting it, then I'm—I'm just putting even more distance between us…?"
Nodding, Toothless crooned and pushed his head under Hiccup's hands again. He never wanted his rider to leave.
"Thanks, bud." Now that Hiccup had something to focus on doing to mend their relationship, his voice was stronger and freed from the guilt that had been plaguing him.
Toothless looked away, guilt niggling a little at his own heart. Well, I wasn't perfect either.
"Not perfect, but you did what you thought was best," Hiccup reassured him, giving Toothless another fish. Yawning, he took the fish and swallowed it slowly. The next one was met with a sleepy refusal, and Hiccup frowned, but let it go.
I love you, Toothless crooned, twisting to curl up more comfortably, and giving Hiccup the option to stand up and go back to his own bed. He stayed, simply moved slightly to get into a more comfortable position, leaning back against Toothless' neck and wrapping an arm around his neck.
They weren't okay yet, and Toothless still had a way to go before he was completely healed—he'd been hurt too badly to suddenly snap back to normal—but they were on their way. And like they'd learnt to fly together, like Toothless had helped Hiccup to walk, they'd take it one step at a time. One thing he knew was that he couldn't wait until they could use his real tail fin again—the red one.
THE END
AN: What do you think? Voting options for the next story are:
Cold: 15.3k words, another sixshot. It's tradition for the heir to make a journey from one end of Berk to the other on his sixteenth birthday, with only four companions. Typical Hiccup luck, his birthday happens to be in the middle of Devastating Winter. Of course, it's unthinkable for him to go without Toothless, but when the weather turns rough, the dragon might be the only thing standing between them and freezing to death. Toothless' POV, 1st person.
Crash: 2.5k words, oneshot. The Great Hall stands tall, literally built into the side of a mountain, watching over Berk. However, earthquakes are not its strong suit, that's for sure. Toothless' POV, 1st person.
Lightning? Yes. Death? Hopefully not: 4.6k words, oneshot. One of Toothless' parents obviously wasn't very pleased with Hiccup and his dragon, that was for sure. When lightning destroys the tail fin, leading to a fall into the ocean, Hiccup must fight the weight of his clothes and metal leg long enough for his dragon to find him. He just hopes the other half of 'Lightning and Death itself' won't make an appearance. Hiccup's POV, 1st person.
Victory Went to Snotlout's Head: 12.8k words, sixshot, in the process of being beta-ed. After Thawfest, and encouraged by his dad, Snotlout sees the opportunity to claim what he's always deserved. After all, why should the best Viking have an inferior dragon? Hiccup's POV, 1st person.
You're Mine: 3.5k words, oneshot. Written in present tense, which I have almost no experience with, so grammar mistakes will be more frequent.
"Alpha has a firm grip on his muscles, holding his mouth steady and ready to shoot. The realisation hurts as much as the Red Death's club-like tail. Hiccup is going to die… by his fire. The gas in his mouth lights. Three seconds until someone dies. The imposter thinks it will be Hiccup. But Toothless has always known that if he was given a choice between saving his life and Hiccup's, he'd choose Hiccup's in a heartbeat."
Toothless' POV, 3rd person. NOT DEATHFIC, no matter what the summary sounds like. I hate deathfics.
Stay with Me: 5.5k words, oneshot. Someone gets grievously wounded in an encounter with Krogan's Singetails, and Hiccup doesn't know what to do. Thankfully the A team are there, with both Gothi and Stoick. He just hopes they can save his dragon... Hiccup's POV, 1st person. Is it a deathfic? See above.
Based on the conclusions from last fic, this will be voted in the reviews and I will not be posting a poll. So, what are you waiting for? I'm not a mind reader, you'll have to click that button if you want a say in what comes next.