My shoulders sagged as I gazed around at the mess of jagged shards of ice embedded in houses and ground and the deep grooves cut in the cliff where the Bewilderbeast had kept itself upright as it terrorized Berk. It had already been an hour since Toothless and I had set our people to work, fighting against the clock to get as many houses habitable by sundown, and already the task was taking far longer than I'd anticipated. This was going to take months to fix.

I let my head droop with exhaustion. I'd been dashing up and down the village, called by villagers who couldn't work out which end of the hammer was which, for what seemed like hours.

Groaning, I passed a hand over my face. That wasn't fair. Most of the villagers had a lot of experience at rebuilding normal houses. It was my inventions, like the fire prevention system, that caused the most problems. Still, I needed a break.

I stood on the cliff overlooking Berk, wishing I'd thought to bring a water flask. I glanced sideways automatically, my shoulders falling with disappointment when there was still no Night Fury beside me. I wasn't sure what Toothless was doing; we'd been separated in the initial crush of people bellowing at us for answers. He'd be fine—he was a Night Fury, and an Alpha for Thor's sake—but I couldn't help wishing he was here.

Villagers scuttled like ants below me, listening to Gobber and Astrid yell at them. Without my father's old friend and my fiance, I didn't think I could have survived two minutes down there. I savagely swiped my sleeve across my face, swallowing hard. I was a chief now, Thor curse it! I was strong, I was immovable, I was hard working, I was loyal, I was fierce, I was—I was—

Not my father.

My chest throbbed, reminding me of the constant pain that wouldn't fade, but I refused to let the ache in my throat go any further. Dad would have found everyone a place to stay already. Dad would have somehow solved everything, then stopped by each house to reassure and comfort the villagers before he fell into his own bed. Dad would have never tried to reason with Drago in the first place!

I numbly sat down and pulled my knees up to my chin, rocking back and forth as I gazed out across the ocean. I'd thought I'd have more time. I'd thought I could keep running, avoid becoming chief for as long as possible, and then my father would've guided me into the new role. The transition would have been unwelcome, but slow and easy. Instead, it was heart-wrenchingly abrupt. I'd fallen into a shadowy abyss of grief and responsibility I wasn't ready for, and I couldn't see a way out.

Then there was Toothless. I groaned and pressed my eyes against my knees until I saw stars. Yet another thing I'd messed up.

Contrary to what most people assumed, I couldn't blame my dragon. In the first few moments, I'd been angry and accusing, but I'd give anything to take that back now. I'd seen the confusion, seen the pain, and instead of comforting, I'd shoved. Even when he'd crooned pleadingly, giving me a second chance, I'd chosen to yell instead of relent.

I'd seen the pain rocket, anguish growing in Toothless' unearthly green eyes, but by then it had been too late. He'd bounded away before I had a chance to call him back. And then—and then—

Drago. Sitting on my saddle, riding my dragon. That monstrous bullhook, slamming into Toothless' black scales before it was ripped out of Drago's hand. I'd believed every syllable of the words I'd used to coax him out of the Bewilderbeast's control. It wasn't your fault, bud. You'd never hurt him. You'd never hurt me.

The problem was, he didn't.

I could see it in the drooping tail, the eyes that wouldn't quite meet mine. The wings that lacked their normal enthusiasm for flying, and every time he tried to quietly sidle away when I was busy. He was probably avoiding me on purpose. I groaned, knuckling at my eyes. We needed to sit down and talk, thrash out what had happened. We'd find a way to fix this.

I hoped.

I sighed, cupped my hands to my mouth—and hesitated. Was I sure?

Yes. Living without my dragon was unthinkable.

'TOOOOOOTHLESSSSSS!'

The Night Fury dragon call echoed across Berk, the draconic sounds carrying far further than my normal shouts did. I'd have to remember that when the villagers—my people—were being too loud.

Several people looked up and caught a glimpse of me, the small figure on the cliff, calling for the person who knew me best—more than my own father had.

Nothing.

There were a few moments of silence after the last note of the long howl faded away, then I cupped my hands to my mouth and tried again.

'TOOOOOOTHLESSSSSS!'

Still nothing.

"C'mon, bud, please," I muttered, taking a step forward. I knew how to pronounce a few more words in Dragonese, but they hurt my throat terribly, and I didn't want to be hoarse for the next few days.

I cupped my hands a third time. 'TOOOOOOTHLESSSSSS!'

I took another step, dangerously close to the edge, and waited. This time, a small black blob detached itself from one of the shadows and started moving closer, slinking slowly up the slope. Massaging my throat, I turned and hurried back down the long slope, taking giant steps towards my dragon. Before we were within comfortable speaking distance, he slowed to a stop, wary. I ignored how my heart twisted guiltily, and slowly tried to bridge the gap. I took one step forward, and he took one back.

"Please, bud. Please…" Toothless shook his head, taking another step backwards. "I'm not mad. I promise, I'm not mad."

He moved backwards again.

"I need you, bud." I let my heartbreak show, begging my dragon to come to me. "I've always needed you. Don't leave me now."

'You don't need me.' Flat and unemotional. I hated every syllable of the first words he'd said to me since he threw off the Bewilderbeast's influence. I wanted to touch his face, stroke his ears, rub the truth into his skin, to never let him think I'd ever hated him.

"I do! Toothless, I lost Dad today—"

'—because of me! I killed him—'

"—I can't lose you too!"

'Well, you should! It would have been better if we'd never met!' To hear him uprooting the memories, tearing out the very core of our friendship, cut me to the bone. I gasped, sagging as though I'd been struck. Tossing his head, too proud to release the tears I could see shining in his eyes, he turned to leave.

"No—stay—please—"

It was too late; he was already breaking into a trot. I hesitated, torn. I'd never catch him on foot, but what could I do except try? Why did he have to be so stubborn! Gods, it was just like his grudge against the Skrill, or the Whispering Death—

'TOOTHLESS!' I'd probably mispronounced something, but I didn't care, pounding up the slope again as fast as I could. My dragon was hurting, and Odin strike me down if I didn't do something!

'I told you—what do you scorching think you're doing!?'

I took the final step and plunged off the cliff, trusting that he would be willing and able to catch me before I hit the fatal rocks below. After two seconds, sure enough, a black form slipped beneath me and we clumsily pulled up. In the distance, Astrid shook her fist at me, and I winced. I'd get a lecture later.

Toothless was stiff and uncomfortable beneath me, displeasure radiating from his skin in waves. He flew straight back up to the cliff, trying to tip me off the moment we arrived.

'Stunt's over, get off!'

Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I held on for dear life. "I'm not going to let you do this!"

Enraged and scared, he tried to fling me off with a sudden jerk. I squeezed hard with my legs and stayed on, whispering soft words and endearments into his ears. He bucked and leapt, but I clung on like a Smothering Smokebreath, refusing to let go.

"Face it, bud, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

'D—don't you ever give up?'

"Have you met me before?"

'I—' he suddenly staggered, lurching to one side.

"Bud?"

'I'm fine. Just fine. Now get off!' I didn't believe him at all, especially when he staggered again.

"Buddy, let me help," I begged, rubbing my cheek against his head.

'I'm—fine—' He panted, shaking his head to clear it.

I dared to dismount, and he instantly bounded away, down the side of the mountain. He stumbled over himself before he got halfway down, rolled head over tail a few times, and crumpled into a black heap on the ground. I was already chasing him, worry and fear lending my legs speed to run over rocks and down a steep path I would never have dared otherwise. Toothless was the epitome of grace, whether in air or water or on land. He never tripped.

"C'mon, bud, please be alright…" I almost fell but recovered, running till my lungs burned, my hair falling into my eyes at the worst possible moments. Finally, I could fall to my knees next to him and lift his head onto my lap, cradling it. He seemed to be unconscious, and guiltily gladness that he wasn't trying to run away anymore welled up in a sticky mess in my heart.

"Don't scare me like this, bud. Please, wake up…"

I curled around him for a few more moments, reassured by his steady breathing and strong heartbeat. There seemed to be nothing seriously wrong, but he wouldn't simply collapse out of nowhere…

After about five minutes, he started to stir, groggy and disoriented.

"Easy, buddy. I've got you." I fondled his ears the way he liked, praying he'd see sense for a little while. "Tell me what's wrong, bud. I want to help."

'Nothing's wrong. I'm fine.'

"Toothless, you're as good at lying as I am." I cupped his face with both hands, stroking and rubbing the places I knew he liked best.

'I—I—' He squirmed a little, trying to edge away.

"C'mon, you know you like this." I reached down and tugged at the ropes on my prosthesis, fumbling them free with one hand. Toothless, still leaning into my other hand despite his hesitation, didn't notice. The edge of the cliff wasn't too far away, and I swiftly drew back my arm and threw, watching it disappear over the side where it would shatter on the rocks below.

After a few moments, he blinked, shaking his head, and stood up. 'I'm going to g—go now.'

"Please—"

'You can't stop me.'

"I'm gonna miss you so—so much." The tremble in my voice wasn't faked.

He turned away, refusing to look at me, and every inch of me longed to throw myself at him, to cling to his neck and never let go. I let him take a few shuffling steps, his legs still wobbly and unsure, then called out, "Could you—could you take me back to the village?"

I rose to my foot, fighting to keep my balance. There was something strangely terrifying about missing a leg, something I'd never gotten used to. To feel nothing where there used to be living flesh, to kick out against something and not feel it, to think I was standing on something only to realise I'd miscalculated. It was like the mini-heart attack people got when they missed a step on the stairs except far worse—unexpected, unsettling, and unbalancing.

He turned around, his mouth open to say something sarcastic. When his eyes widened, I gave him the yeah-I've-done-something-stupid-so-what smile and shrugged.

'You utter imbecile,' he grumbled, coming back towards me. I wobbled, leaning heavily backwards, then swung forwards again.

"Stupid leg." Reduced to hopping to keep my balance, I windmilled my arms wildly and clutched at the air in an undignified whirl of limbs. "Glad the villagers aren't here."

Despite himself, he chuckled. 'Some chief you are.'

"C'mon, you look just as immature when we're free falling."

For a moment, things were almost normal. Two friends, good naturedly insulting each other.

Then his grief slammed back down, so heavy I could feel it pressing down on me. I finally lost my battle against gravity, toppling past the point of no return. Leaping forwards, he slipped himself under me and I fell heavily onto his neck.

'One last ride,' he warned, his voice strained. 'No more making yourself helpless or putting yourself in danger to get me to stay.'

I whimpered, not too proud to let him know how much he was hurting me. "Bud—if you can look in my eyes and truthfully tell me you want to go—" The words dragged themselves out of me, each one a dagger that scraped up each and every one of my ribs before slicing my throat, but they had to be said. If he really wanted to go, I couldn't stop him. "If you really want to go—" I took a deep breath. "I'll—I'll let you."

I hopped one step away and held out my hand, lowering my head. I couldn't bear this hesitation anymore.

"You don't even have to take me home—I'll get back somehow. This is either a new beginning—or the end. Your choice."

I closed my eyes and sank to the ground, silently crying. I wanted him to see that I was being completely honest with him, showing him that leaving was the last thing I wanted him to do—it should never even have been considered.

The moments dragged out, each minute marked by my rapid heartbeat, fluttering with hope and despair in turn.

My confidence waned, sure that he'd already slunk away, unable to force himself to say goodbye. My tears intensified. But I didn't lower my arm, even when it went numb and cold, I didn't dare peek, and I didn't let a single sound pass my lips. I'd wait like this for hours, if I had to, until he either responded or someone arrived and told me he was gone.

Just like the first time, scales under my fingers made me start in surprise, every atom in my body sighing as they returned to the place they were supposed to be. I looked up hesitantly, fearfully, and Toothless gave me a shaky smile from where he lay on the ground. 'How do you always know exactly what to say?'

"I tell the truth." I let my hand roam down his face, briefly tracing the edge of his eye and cupping his cheek. He sighed, leaning into the contact, and something wet dripped onto my fingers. I smoothed the tear away, scooting closer, and my nerves sparked wherever our skin met—I was home, where I belonged. "About D—Dad—"

He stiffened, shrinking back, scared. 'I—'

"Shh." I placed a hand over his mouth. "I don't blame you."

'But I—'

"—was being controlled. Mum had it right all along—" I laughed bitterly. "I was just too stupid to see it."

'That doesn't change the facts! It was my fire that killed Stoick! My fault he's gone!'

I'd already told him it wasn't his fault—but his logic made a terrible sense. Yes, without Toothless, Dad would still be alive. I couldn't argue with that, other than point out that he hadn't meant to do it—and I'd already done that. He'd never see it the way I did. I needed something else to argue, since I'd lost that point from the moment he'd realised what had happened.

I dragged out my own guilt—Dad's death was at least partially my fault—and forced myself to look at it closely when all I wanted was to shrink away. "The problem isn't forgiving yourself, is it? The problem is believing that you should. You think you deserve to suffer for this."

His silence confirmed it.

"Well, let me drive this through your thick skull." He blinked at me, unearthly green eyes filled with pain and grief that broke my heart. "No. You. Don't. You're my dragon, and I refuse to let anyone hurt you."

He whimpered, broken and mute at the back of his throat, and leaned into my chest. 'It hurts. It hurts so much.'

I smiled sadly, wrapping my whole arm around his neck. "I know. Gods, I know." Dad's absence was a sucking vortex in my chest, devouring me with an insatiable appetite. "But honestly? Losing you would hurt far more." Worrying about him, my mind chewing over how to fix my dragon ever since the funeral, was the only thing that had kept me sane.

'I don't deserve you.' He shuddered, head heavy on my lap as he finally released the tears I'd caught glimpses of before in a series of small, choked sobs. I nuzzled him dragon-style, my cheek to his forehead, letting him cry.

"You're my dragon, whether you deserve me or not. I know I don't deserve you."

My own eyes filled, blurring the darkening grass around me. It was sunset, when we'd always gone for a flight before—well, everything. "Are you up for our flight?"

He shook his head, and I couldn't blame him. It had been a long, tiring day for everyone, especially him. "Okay."

We stayed like that for a while, letting the cool air soothe us. I closed my eyes and leant forwards, absorbing the constant warmth all dragons emitted naturally. He flinched, a small cry passing his lips, and I moved back immediately.

"Can you tell me what's wrong now?"

'Hic—cup,' he whimpered, the last shreds of confident Alpha being replaced by a small, hurt dragon. 'I don't feel well…' He curled up, pressing closer to my chest the way he always did when he was sick or hurt. I ran my hand over the top of his wings, my fingers finding a small lump, and he flinched.

"What's the problem? C'mon, buddy, talk to me."

'Hurts…'

"Anything else?"

He groaned, blinking slowly. 'Everything's spinning—I ache everywhere—I want to sleep—but I'm the Alpha…'

"Just because you're the Alpha doesn't mean you can't rest." I slid out from under him, and pulled away, running my hands over the rest of him. Gods, he was bruised everywhere—back, wings, flanks. Every patch of bruises was swollen and tender, and he flinched and whined every time I touched them gently, trying to work out how he'd earned them. His belly was free of marks, as were his legs, and it only increased the mystery.

"Do you know how you got these?"

He whimpered at the memory. 'The ice.'

I sucked in a breath. The Bewilderbeast's breath, though it looked like nothing more than mist, was a blizzard of small ice fragments, sharp and heavy. And he'd taken it all, curling over me as the fatal stream crashed into both of us. He'd used his delicate wing membranes to shield my frail human body.

"Gods…" There was one patch that didn't match the others, on the back of his head near his ears. I ghosted my fingers over the angry swelling, barely touching it. He shuddered, flinching away.

"How did you get this?" I apologised with my other hand, petting his ears and scratching down his face, almost to the sweet spot.

'That was Drago,' he shuddered. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

The bullhook materialised in my imagination, slamming down—right onto that spot. "You should have told me!"

He whined, needing comfort more than a worried lecture, and I gently pressed my cool hands against the two worst patches—by his head and where a particularly large chunk of ice must have hit him on his left shoulder blade. He groaned, leaning into my hands despite the pain it must have caused him, and I felt the tears return to my eyes.

"I'm so sorry, bud. I should never have pushed you away." My hands moved of their own accord, caressing the places it hurt as I whispered apologies and endearments and promises into his ear, holding him as he sought comfort in my small human arms. He whined in relief, begging for more, and I gave it without question—anything he needed. We ended up completely tangled, limbs interwoven, but it wasn't uncomfortable—it felt so right.

'Are we good?' he asked hesitantly, eyes wide and nervous.

I bit back the accusing "Of course!" that leapt to my lips and nuzzled his cheek with mine. "We're better than good."

oOoOo

Astrid was tired of waiting for her fiance to come back from the cliff. Yes, she knew he'd had a hard day, but so had she! It was almost night, and they'd finally found everyone a place to stay. Gobber and Valka were ready to go to bed, and Astrid wanted to join them.

"I'm going to get Hiccup," she declared, standing up from the bench in the Great Hall. From their bedrolls on the floor, Valka under Cloudjumper's wing, the two adults looked up.

"I'll come too. I—I missed twenty years of my child's life—I want to be there for him." Valka said, her face strangely vulnerable in the flickering firelight.

"Ay, I'll come too," Gobber said. "He shouldn't grieve on his own. We're his family."

Astrid nodded wordlessly, thankful for their support. They walked up the hill in silence, holding a torch each, until they saw something on the very edge of Gobber's circle of light. Astrid took a deep breath, instinctively taking the lead. She held her torch over her head and took a few steps forwards.

"He's fine." She wasn't sure if she was relieved or hurt at the sight that greeted her. "They both are."

Valka stepped forwards, a queer smile gracing her lips. "Even after everything… He forgives."

Gobber stumped up next to them. "He's always been close to that dragon. It didn't feel right to see one without the other."

"He'll be alright," Astrid muttered numbly, turning to go. "He doesn't need us." He doesn't need me. Thor's hammer, she wanted Hiccup to need her. She wanted to hold him, to stroke and braid his hair, to let him cry into her shoulder, to know that she was the most important thing in his life. Instead, he'd turned to his dragon.

Valka sighed. "Astrid… a bond with a dragon isn't like anything else. It can be weak, like a human master with a dragon slave—or it can be so deep they feel as if they are one being with two bodies. I suspect Toothless and Hiccup have a bond more like that—and what Toothless did under Drago's control severely damaged that. Imagine if your arm was trying to run away, how would you feel?"

Astrid snorted. "That's ridiculous."

"What if your arm didn't want to leave and felt like it was tearing itself apart—but thought you'd be better off without it and was sacrificing itself for your good?"

She rolled her eyes, and Valka looked at her sternly. "I guess I'd want to get it back and knock some sense into it," Astrid said, humouring the older woman.

"That was what Hiccup was doing today. Just be patient—he loves you very much. Sooner or later, he'll need you when Toothless can't help him with something." Valka laughed. "Like braiding his hair."

Slightly comforted, Astrid sighed and started walking down the hill. Behind her, in a mess of tangled wings and legs, Hiccup stirred slightly and pressed closer to his dragon. Toothless, equally asleep, curled around his charge tighter to keep out the chill of the night.

The first step was fixing themselves.

Next, they'd fix the village.

THE END


Okay, options. There are a whopping eleven of them, so get ready for a very long AN.

1) Always Come Back—1.8k words, oneshot. Just some gratuitous Toothless whump, really.

2) Blood Always Shows—9.6k words, five oneshots in the same universe. I'm not entirely sure about posting this, because it deals with some stuff I know is a sensitive topic, and (thankfully) I have no personal experience with it. Nothing too graphic, hopefully, but still trigger warnings for self-harm and accidental near suicide.

3) Blush—1k words, oneshot. An attempt at humour. Right after HTTYD 1, Hiccup and Toothless were the pair dragons and humans went to when they needed translation. And sometimes, those conversations could be... embarrassing.

4) Coconuts—3.5k words, oneshot. Berserkers poison Hiccup, and Toothless and Astrid have to find the antidote that happens to be halfway around the world within a week.

5) Forever?—1.8k words, oneshot. Immortality AU. Astrid dies but Hiccup can't. Toothless comes back from the hidden world with devastating news. All they have left is each other.

6) How Not To Pick Your Dragon—3.1k words, oneshot. I saw an opportunity for Hicctooth hurt/comfort and took it. Slight deviation from the episode How To Pick Your Dragon.

7) Lowest Moment—23.3k words, sixshot. AU on Weakest Moment. Hiccup flew from Toothless' grip as he hit the ground, leaving Toothless alone to brave both Alvin and Dagur.

8) The Longest Dark—3.3k words, oneshot. This was a request from Dargur about the episode The Longest Day. When the Shadow Wings are chasing Hiccup and Toothless, what if Toothless was too slow and Hiccup got hit in the face? Now blind, he has to depend on Toothless to get them out of there.

9) The Unspeakable Happens—3.7k words, oneshot. Like the title says, the unspeakable happens. Set in HTTYD 2.

10) Tired—3.7k words, oneshot. Immediate aftermath of HTTYD 1. Hiccup isn't Useless anymore, and he's determined to keep it that way. Toothless only wants his human well rested and healthy again.

11) Undeserving Trust—5.1k words, oneshot. The Terrible Twos, but from Toothless' POV and with a few extra details.

So, which one is it going to be? Review below.