AN: So, here we go. The last chapter to this 'originally-having-been-planned-as-a-oneshot' thing.

. o O o .

Chapter 3

Exhausted.

That was how she felt as she dragged herself up the handful of steps toward their entrance door. Maybe it was because she hadn't really slept in three days, or maybe it was that her wounds – the deep cuts on her upper arm and her thigh, and the smaller ones all over her body – hurt, the pain draining her of all strength.

Maybe it was a combination of both.

She probably should have listened to her commander, should have agreed to be admitted to the ward, to let the medics tend to her wounds with their special treatments. She should have rested, let drugs knock her out until her body had recovered. Surely, that would have been the wiser choice.

Astrid took a shuddering breath, and winced as she lifted her hand to press the thumb to the scanner lock next to the door. Yes, logically she should have stayed at the HQ and return home a day or two later, healed and well.

But her being here had nothing to do with logic.

With a low click, the door opened, and she stepped inside, quietly. The foyer was dark, but despite the late hour, soft light fell through the open doorway to the living room. Suppressing all pained noises, she took off her shoes and the torn jacket, let them drop near the wardrobe, and then all but limped into the other room.

The comfortable and cosy atmosphere hit her almost like an avalanche. It was warm, the remains of a fire still glowing in the fireplace. The soft light that had enticed her to come here came from a dozen or so flickering candles – artificial electrical ones, but the difference was only noticeable because she knew. The low tea table was set with two plates and the leftovers of an enormous chocolate cake. With crumps still all over the place, it looked chaotic but in an endearing way. This table – the entire room really – had clearly been used today, had been meant to be used further, and it gave the room this wonderful lived-in feeling. Home. But it also reminded her of what she'd missed today.

Suppressing a sigh, she pushed that thought away. Dwelling on the past, whichever part of it, wouldn't do her any good right now. Instead, she quietly stepped closer and around a side table to where Hiccup's sleeping form lay on the sofa.

Astrid took a minute to just watch him. He looked so soft, his messy hair spread over his arm beneath his head and covering his eyes. He was still wearing his day clothes – a comfortable hoodie, jogging trousers, and slippers – and hadn't even covered himself with the woollen blanket lying at his feet. As if he hadn't meant to fall asleep at all. His face was relaxed, even though even sleep wasn't enough to smooth out the worried lines on his forehead or around his eyes and mouth. Astrid swallowed as her eyes landed on his lips. His kiss had been her last memory of her home on this cursed mission, of her family, and looking at his mouth now brought back the truth about what had happened with brutal force.

Trembling, she sat down next to him. A part of her wanted to let Hiccup sleep, let him rest, because he looked as if he needed it. That part just wanted to curl up next to him and rest too, wanted to sleep wrapped in his warmth, forget, and deal with everything else tomorrow. But that wasn't why she'd hurried home tonight, and, of course, he instantly woke up anyway.

"Hey, babe," she greeted him in a weak voice as he stirred. She reached out to touch his face, but didn't finish the movement. For some reason, she didn't dare to do so.

Hiccup blinked up at her, eyes still dazed, and she wondered how he would receive her not-quite-usual appearance. Her messy hair and dirty face, the scratches all over her skin. The leftover traces of blood that might or might not still be visible.

He swallowed, but didn't move. "If this is another dream, then please don't wake me," he eventually murmured, still unmoving. His tired eyes never left her, as if he was afraid she might disappear if he only so much as blinked.

Astrid gasped, something between a laugh and a sob. "It's not a dream. I'm really here." She forced something like a smile onto her face. "Happy Birthday."

Now it was on Hiccup to make nearly the same strangled noise, nearly choking. Then he suddenly sat up in one quick motion, and before she knew what happened she found herself cradled in a tight embrace.

"Oh Gods," he muttered over and over. "Oh, Gods, you're real. You're here. You're alive." He nearly crushed her, and she couldn't suppress a pained whimper as his hand unknowingly pressed into the wound on her arm. He immediately loosened his hold and pulled back to look her over, even though his hands didn't let go of her. His eyes widened as he took in her appearance. Not just her face, but also the dirty and torn uniform, the wide cut in her trousers with the clearly visible, bloodstained bandage beneath. She hadn't even wanted to wait for someone to bring her new clothes in her haste to return to him.

"I… assume it didn't go smoothly?" he eventually murmured. He sounded incredibly tired.

"No, it didn't," she confirmed, gulping. It hadn't gone smoothly at all.

Hiccup nodded, questions clearly burning in his eyes, but he knew better than to ask for details. Instead, he pulled her into his arms again, more carefully this time, until she effectively sat across his lap, nestled against his chest, and with his mouth and nose pressed into her chaotic hair. It felt good, warm. Safe.

"Gods, I thought you were dead…" he muttered after a while, his arms around her twitching as if he wanted to pull her tighter again but didn't dare to. Astrid pressed herself closer to his chest, and let all tension flow out of her, let him be her strength. Hiccup seemed to appreciate it, his arms carefully tightening after all. "I was prepared for some agents to show up here at any moment and deliver the news..." he murmured but trailed off, voice too weak to go on, and instead pressed a hard kiss against her scalp. His body was trembling.

Yes, it was the right decision to come back tonight instead of waiting another day…

Astrid could feel his ragged breathing against her skin, hot and panting. She burrowed deeper into his embrace, clinging to him. "I'm sorry!" she gasped. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… to…" she trailed off, not sure what to say. She hadn't meant to hurt him, but he knew that. That didn't change that she had hurt him, repeatedly. That it was unavoidable. Or had been…

"I know. And I don't blame you," Hiccup sighed, and his arms around her grew a little softer again. "I just… Please, don't ever do that again," he mumbled after a while. His voice sounded raspy, as if he was close to tears, broken. A weirdly strangled noise escaped her, but before she could actually say anything, tell him, he already continued. "Not… not leaving, I mean," he clarified, gulping. "I know you'll have to. But don't tell me again when you're supposed to be back. Waiting and not knowing when you're going to be back… that's hard. But knowing and you not coming back as planned… That's so much worse!"

The last bit of strength seemed to leave Astrid's body at the tone in his voice. He sounded so broken, lost and hurt, and Astrid felt like something broke inside her, too. Through all these years, he'd been so strong, had never said anything, had never complained. But this time, it had been too much. For all of them.

"I won't," she whispered, slightly muffled against his hoodie. Hiccup swallowed and nodded, but he didn't understand. How could he? So she shook her head, and clarified, "I won't leave again."

It took a moment or three before the words truly sank in. Then he grunted, surprised, and pushed her away a little to be able to look at her. His face was a display of utter confusion. "What?"

Astrid shrugged, and gave him a shy smile. "I won't leave again," she repeated, then added emphatically, "Ever."

Watching the kaleidoscope of emotions that crossed Hiccup's face nearly tore her apart. There was confusion, hope and joy, but also disbelieve and sorrow. "But…" he eventually stammered. "But you love your job."

"I do," she nodded, gulping. Then she added in a lower voice, barely more than a whisper. "But I love you more."

Hiccup's breathing grew faster, and he swallowed again as he stared at her. Hope and pain fighting for dominance on his face. "But… I don't want you to give up the job you love," he finally muttered. "Not for me."

Astrid whimpered. Gods, how was it possible that she deserved this man? She took a deep breath, and lifted her hand to let her fingers caress his freckled face, his bushy eyebrows, his chiselled jaw, and the stubbles around his thin lips. She was buying time, she knew that, needed to collect her thoughts before she could answer him, before she could explain. Barely more than an hour had passed since she'd made this decision, and it had been one she'd made in the matter of a heartbeat. It was the right one, she didn't doubt that, but she still needed to put order into all her thoughts.

"Hiccup," she began slowly. "I'm not doing that for you… Not exclusively, at least. It's also for Bri, and for myself. For us." He still looked confused, so she went on without any more preamble. "A few weeks ago, my commander offered me a new position. Operation manager. Leading and coordinating missions from the HQ instead of heading right in. But I–" she sucked in another breath, "–I refused. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, that I didn't ask your opinion. I know I should have. But I–"

"I wouldn't have tried to talk you into taking that offer," Hiccup interrupted her gently. And she believed him, but she also knew what it would have cost him.

"I know," she sighed, grimacing. "I know you wouldn't have done that. But it didn't seem fair to tell you that option was within reach when I knew I wouldn't take it. I… didn't feel ready for that yet. It's not that I don't want to do this job… eventually. But not now, later, after my running missions were all finished and closed. In a couple of years, maybe..."

He nodded, and, biting his lip, brushed a loose strand of her hair out of her face. "I see," he whispered. He hesitated, swallowed, and then asked, "What changed your mind?"

She noticed how his eyes roamed over her, taking in all the details she rather wished he wouldn't see. The scrapes and bruises on her face from when she'd fallen or had been beaten. The stains in her hair, probably not recognisable as blood, but she was sure he would know. The small burns here and there...

She took a few ragged breaths, pondering how much she could tell him, and then decided in a heartbeat that she didn't care. "You were right," she breathed. "This mission didn't go smoothly at all. Somehow, they knew we were coming, when and how. We ran into an ambush, and… and everything went wrong. Hea– two of my comrades were badly wounded right away, we lost the hostage we were supposed to rescue and–" she choked at the memory, "–and I almost died, too." She could feel how Hiccup's hands, his entire body really, started to tremble. "I got engaged in close combat. Not a problem usually, but I was already injured, and–"

Hiccup silenced her with a finger over her lips. He didn't say anything, only shook his head and looked at her with eerily empty eyes, and she understood. He didn't need to hear all the details. Didn't want to.

Nodding, she went on, "There was a moment then when was helpless. I thought the man would kill me any moment. And in that second, I realised that I wouldn't get those couple of years. That this was it. That I would do everything to turn back time and take that offer after all. And I prayed to all the Gods I knew to just… let me see you and Bri again, one last time."

Her voice broke, and tears welled up in her eyes. The Gods had answered her desperate prayer, and the moment she'd been able to speak to her commander, she'd known which path she had to take. Because she might not be this lucky the next time.

For a long time, neither of them said a word. They just sat there on their worn-out sofa, and his warm arms around her felt better than anything else she could ever imagine. Every now and then, small waves of shivers and sobs ran through her as the tension finally glided off her and the memories returned. The explosions, the pain, the sense of despair and helplessness. Heather's and Cami's screams and so much blood… The face of that man appeared in her mind again, and only when Hiccup's soothing noises and the rubbing motion of his hands brought her back into the now did she realise that she was crying.

"It's okay," he whispered over and over, and as if under a spell she slowly calmed again. "It's okay. You're safe now."

. o O o .

Hiccup woke, as nearly every day, to the sound of quickly approaching tripling steps, and mentally prepared himself to be jumped by an overly awake four-year-old. When that impact failed to occur, however, he blinked himself awake, slightly worried by what might have happened for Bri to change her habits. Had she tried to prepare breakfast again and had dumped the entire kitchen in flour? That already had happened… once or twice.

But when he finally had his eyes open and spotted Bri in the open door to the bedroom, she didn't look as if she'd turned any part of the house into a mess. Instead, she stood utterly still, unmoving, and looked… Stunned? Surprised? Happy?

He was about to shift out of bed and get up when she finally left her frozen-like state after all.

"Mummy!" she squealed, and a second later the usual impact of her jumping on the bed hit him after all.

Right...

Astrid was back!

So that hadn't been a dream after all.

"Hey, little cupcake!"

The smile in her voice was practically audible to him, and Hiccup turned around on the bed to look at them – Astrid still on her back with Bri lying plain on top of her, her thin arms disappearing in Astrid's wild morning hair.

"You're back!" came Bri's muffled voice before she sat up to give her mother a confused look. "When did you come back? I just woke up."

A warm smile spread across Hiccup's face as he watched the two most important people in his life. Bri was still in this wonderful age where she believed that, when she slept, the entire world had to be asleep too.

But it was probably better this way. It was good that Bri hadn't seen Astrid last night, not the injuries and none of the blood either. They'd talked a lot as he'd treated her wounds, about what had happened to her – what she could tell, at least, and what he'd been able to stand to hear – and about the future. He'd redressed the deep cuts, and had cleaned and put ointment on the others to keep them from getting infected. He was glad that, even after years, basics like these still came naturally to him; he wasn't sure whether he'd been able to concentrate on his actions otherwise. Because he knew enough about wounds to get an idea of what had happened to Astrid, even as she didn't go into details.

But now, with all traces of blood and dirt washed off her skin and after some hours of sleep, she looked much better, normal enough for Bri not to notice anything.

"I came home last night," Astrid explained with a soft smile. "But tell me, what did you do while I was gone? Did you look after your dad as I asked you to?"

Bri nodded, and instantly dove into a lengthy monologue about what Astrid had missed; them baking cake the other day, how she'd played with her friends, and about another child at the nursery that had fallen and hurt their arm. Smiling, Astrid listened, nodding and humming in reaction to everything she was told. But her hand slid through the covers until it found him, her fingers weaving through his, and he squeezed them lightly.

It was time to get up and prepare breakfast. Hiccup felt his stomach rumbling and knew that, as soon as Bri remembered being hungry, breakfast would need to be ready quickly. But he couldn't bring himself to go downstairs, not yet. Instead, he lay down next to Astrid again, and she shuffled until his arm was around her shoulders. Bri, unperturbed by the jostling, still sat on her stomach and was still talking.

It was a moment of pure comfort and bliss, easy and light. A moment he would treasure, would stow away in his mind so that he could retrieve it whenever he needed something to cheer him up. But then he remembered that he wouldn't need that anymore. Astrid wouldn't leave again, wouldn't head out into danger all on her own, leaving him behind with nothing but the hope that she would come back.

Laughing quietly – and earning himself a confused look from Bri – he nuzzled into Astrid's hair. "I love you!" he whispered, chuckling, unable to help himself as the joy bubbled over inside him. She was safe now.

And he would do whatever he could to keep her that way.

. o O o .

So there, it's done. I'm not entirely happy with the ending, but it refused to get better, so this is how it is.

And I don't really like to do this as it always awfully feels like whining... But here's a friendly reminder that we fanfic-writers solely run on feedback. We need to know whether people even read or like what we're doing to keep us motivated. So getting barely any reactions (with one exception, and thank you a lot for that!) wasn't exactly encouraging. And just to clarify that, just greedily demanding more isn't really helpful either.

So there, ranting is over... Back to the important bit:

A shoutout to all those people heading out into danger to help others and also to those staying behind, waiting. You're all stronger than I could ever be...