Here's chapter 4, in which Matthew is doing his job, Snotlout makes his first appearance, and everyone cries!

Her head was still hurting and had added a new buzzing sound to the painful mix after her MRI. However, she had managed to sit up in bed with the help of Freya, and was considering herself rather lucky to be sitting and eating again.

She'd noticed the rings on her hands. One slim, golden wedding band on her right index and another one, also in gold, but with an intricate flower design on her left ring finger. She'd also been staring at them for the past five minutes, her thoughts racing. Was she really married? And he'd been here? When had they met? Was he still here? She remembered the voice she'd heard right as she'd been waking up, and it hadn't been either of the doctors or Freya. Had that been him? She pulled the bigger ring off her finger and noticed the engraved inscription on the inside. To end up with you. She frowned, put it back on, and pulled off the other one on her left hand. All's well that ends well.

A knock at the door. Astrid looked up, expecting it to be Freya to take back the food tray, but instead, she was faced with the young doctor from earlier. Now that she got a good look at him, he seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn't really place it. He pointed at the chair next to her bed.

"May I?"

She shrugged. "Sure, go for it."

"Thanks. So, this … all must seem like a bit of a mess to you, huh?" His voice was soft as he spoke and his bright blue eyes were carefully watching her.

Astrid hesitated, not quite sure what to say. Then she sighed.

"You really were serious, weren't you? This isn't some kind of joke?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I'm really sorry."

She nodded. "Okay. I just wanted to make sure."

They sat in silence for a bit. Then, the young doctor asked, "Would you like to hear your diagnosis?"

"Honestly, not really. I mean, yes, of course, please tell me, but I'd rather know if it's gonna stay like this. I mean, I-" she broke off, her voice shaking. She was fiddling with the ring on her index finger and tried again. "I don't really know who I am anymore. I'm not who I think I am, right now. Not to anyone else."

He sighed. "I understand, I really do. And … what I can tell you is that normally, patients do recover. We just don't know how long it might take and just how much your brain will restore. It is very likely you'll never remember the accident or any events closely leading up to it ever again. But, I guess, that's not really anything you'd like to remember, anyways."

She chuckled dryly and nodded slowly. "I guess not. So what is it?"

"Retrograde Amnesia. Specifically, post-traumatic amnesia. I know what you're thinking," he said, holding up his hand, smiling lightly. "It sounds like something out of a film. What it basically means is that your brain has temporarily blanked out any personal and episodic memory, meaning that you're not able to remember what happened, where, when, and with who. So far, it looks like it starts at the point that you called the fire department for the first time – or do you remember anything else?"

Astrid hesitated but then slowly shook her head. "I … remember speaking to the fire department. He just said to evacuate and that they'd be on their way. After that, it kind of … gets blurry."

"Right. Well, I can tell you that – " he broke off, stopped and smiled. "You know what, it's not my place to say. Do you need anything?"

"Can I – is there a way I could get in touch with my friend? I don't know her number off by heart, but, um …"

"I can ask Hi – I can do that, yes. What's her name?"

"Rachel Thorsten."

She watched him write it down and shoot her a brief smile. "I'll let Freya know she'll be coming by."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it."

He smiled again and got up. "No problem. I'll come by again later and we can talk more about your diagnosis if you'd like."

She nodded, hesitating, still rotating the wedding band on her finger. She watched him open the door and –

"Hold on – " the words had escaped her mouth before she could think any further. "I'd like to see him. My husband, I mean. After I've spoken to my friend. Could you tell him, please?"

There was a strange look on the doctor's face but he nodded, smiling softly. "Of course. Rest up."

"Hey, any updates?"

Hiccup stopped for a second, considering how to best say this. "Well, uh … good news first, you'll be happy to know that she remembers you. Bad news is-"

"Remember me? What are you talking about?" Rachel said on the other line and Hiccup sighed, rubbing his eyes for the umpteenth time.

"As I was saying, the bad news is that, apparently, the brain damage she suffered caused her head to black out her personal memory of the last five years."

A pause. Then, "What, like in those films?"

He sighed. "Yes, like in those stupid films. Can you come over, please? I'm at my wit's end here and Scott's covering for my shift. And the only one I can talk to right now is Matt, which isn't really all that helpful because he's literally at work doing very hard things and Astrid's his patient and also our friend and I kind of feel like I'm going insane right now."

She hesitated, then said, "Well, good thing I've got experience with that. I'll be right over. Also, you know, maybe this is a punishment for the fact that you didn't call me right as it happened and you're finally receiving some cosmic justice for that, but the jury's still open on that one."

"Just get here, please."

She hung up. Hiccup stood out in the cold, watching his breath condense and had never felt so insanely jealous in his entire life.

"Hey," he suddenly heard a voice behind him, and he swung around, sudden relief washing over his body.

Snotlout stood there, flowers in hand, smiling at his cousin and gave him a quick hug. He pulled back and furrowed his brow. "Dude, you look awful."

"Gee, thanks. You always know what to say."

His cousin grinned. "Of course, that's what I'm here for. Wanna grab one of those awful hospital 'hot beverages' and compartmentalise?"

Hiccup shrugged. "Sure." It's what we do best, he thought as they walked back inside. Snotlout handed Hiccup the flowers he'd brought and slid a few coins into the vending machine. Hiccup smiled, looking at the nice sunflower arrangement.

"Hey, thanks for remembering."

His cousin shrugged lightly. "Of course. She's family, isn't she? What kind of cousin in law would I be if I didn't remember stuff? Also, since when have you been drinking coffee?"

"Oh, since a couple of nights ago. My Dad just kind of handed me one, ignoring I don't like it and I've been drinking it ever since. It's awful. I'm guessing it's a subconscious punishment."

They sat down on the bench that had, more or less, become Hiccup's main residence at this point, and Scott furrowed his brow.

"Punishment? For what? Putting your life on hold for a very compelling reason?"

Hiccup hesitated and sighed, his hands clasping around the steaming cup. "I should have been there. I should have just gone and picked her up. Taken the car or something. I keep thinking if I'd been there, if she'd just waited a little bit, she wouldn't have got into the accident, you know?"

Snotlout said nothing for a few moments. Then, he sighed and leaned forward. "Listen, I'm not gonna tell you that's pointless to think about, okay? I get it. But whenever I say that kind of stuff about a fire, you always tell me that it wouldn't have changed anything. Things happen. And it sucks, but sometimes they're bad and they still happen. I mean, Gobber said she'd told you she wanted some alone time and a walk. Plus, it was already snowing. So what, she just stands out there waiting for you to come walk towards her for 45 minutes, just so you can walk back together for 45 minutes? No."

Hiccup sighed. "Look, you're right. I know that, rationally. It's just … I almost lost her, Scott. I almost lost her and I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if I had."

"Yeah, but you didn't," Snotlout said softly, putting a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "She's still here and okay – physically, at least. Ish. You know what I mean."

Hiccup laughed, and it was almost sincere. "Thanks. You always know what to say."

"I'm serious, though. You said Matt said there's a high chance for recovery. So, take that chance. She'll be okay. You guys will be okay because you always are. You're the best couple I know – and I'm in a really good relationship, so that's saying something."

Hiccup chuckled. "You are."

"Look, all I'm saying is, I get it and I'm really sorry, but sitting around feeling sorry for yourself isn't gonna make anything better, you know that. The only thing that's gonna make a difference is if you talk to her. Look at it this way, you get to meet her again for the very first time. Isn't that kind of beautiful? Plus, you can make up for the way you met the first time 'round, 'cause, I mean, that was truly awful. Her flat's set on fire and you just care about getting her number? Honestly."

He couldn't help it. For the first time in what felt like decades, Hiccup laughed. Honestly, truly, laughed. He laughed so hard he couldn't stop. And then he cried. He cried so hard he couldn't breathe.

The soft knock at her door ripped Astrid out of her peaceful, painkiller-induced slumber.

"Come in," she croaked and quickly rubbed her eyes, trying to sit up (and failing once more, thanks to her wrist).

Rachel Thorston stuck her head through the crack in the door and grinned at her, and Astrid thought she might cry from relief.

And so she did. Rachel sat down next to her and Astrid cried, and cried, and cried, for the life she thought she had, and the life she'd had, and not recognising any of it, apart from her best friend.

[crying] we love narrative parallels!