(a/n at the bottom)

Hiccup stood outside the library doors for far longer than he would have liked to admit. The sun warmed his shoulders as he stared at the tarnished wood, picking shapes out of the grains and lines. He was not completely positive as to why he felt so insecure about talking to Jack again, but the thought of talking to someone who may very well be deaf made his stomach twist in uncomfortable knots.

Perhaps it was Fishlegs' paranoia that was rubbing off on him again. His friend always had leaned towards the side of pessimism. Hiccup could recall the night before, how as he copied down math equations the lanky boy had sprawled on his bed and listed off the ways things could go wrong.

"Best case scenario is he can hear, but he's just weird about library rules. Worst case scenario is he can't, and you end up doing something ignorant, and offend him." Fishlegs said while his fingers tapped away at Hiccup's well loved nintendo DS. "Although, he doesn't have to be deaf for you to say something ignorant and-slash-or offensive."

Hiccup rolled his eyes and twirled his pencil in the air as if it were a magic wand. "Thank you once again for your insight that I never asked for."

"You like to ramble when you're nervous, is what I'm saying." Fishlegs pushed his glasses onto the top of his head so that it would pin his hair back. He squinted at the game screen, vision having not been improved by the lack of lenses. "But then again, you only just learned the guy's name."

It was true, he has only just learned Jack's name- and if Fishlegs-scared-of-his-own-shadow-Ingerman thought he was being ridiculous, than surely he had nothing to worry about.

Right?

It also helped that Hiccup chose to ignore the part where his friend all too happily explained the possibility of Jack throwing him out of the window if he said the wrong thing. That scenario did little to help his dwindling confidence.

Taking a deep breath, Hiccup folded up his umbrella and pushed open the library door. For while he was a cautious sort, he was also stubborn to a fault, and not one to let his nerves get the better of him.

The smell of the library greeted him like an old friend, and Hiccup inhaled deeply to savor the smell of old paper and ink. It offered a gentle reminder that no matter what happened, this old red brick building would always be there, radiating a soft comfort that nothing else could give. With its walls surrounding him, Hiccup walked with more confidence than he felt he had a few seconds ago.

His feet made a soft shuffling sound as he peered through the aisles on the second floor, for the first time actively looking for the shock of silver-white hair he had grown used to seeing. Anticipation fluttered in his chest the way it always did when he explored something new, And small, nervous smile tugged at his lips when he saw Jack. The boy was curled around his notebook, his back to Hiccup. Hiccup hesitated, biting at his lower lip. His hand gently brushed the wooden shelf, and traced the plaque that read Biography as if it could tell him what to do, or even explain why it was he was nervous in the first place.

Oh Well.

Hiccup took a deep breath, suddenly feeling foolish. He took a step forward, and said in a soft whisper: "Hey, Jack…"

Simple, two syllables. Hiccup gripped the straps of his backpack and watched, waiting to see if Jack would raise his head. When he didn't, Hiccup tried again, this time a little bit louder, only to get the same lack of response.

Oh.

For good measure, he dropped the whisper and asked as loud as he dared "Jack? Can you hear me?"

In the echoed silence Hiccup suddenly felt as if he stumbled on to some dark secret. Guilt wrapped its way around his ankles and kept him from moving forward any farther. His toes curled in his shoes, and he took a hesitant step backwards. The sudden feeling of wrongness weighed him down, pushing on his shoulders and whispering in his ear to leave. What if Jack didn't want him to know, and now he had invaded his privacy? He knew it was wrong, and he had faced greater challenges in his life, but Hiccup felt the urge to leave before Jack saw him.

It was stupid, he thought, determination the only thing keeping him from leaving. Hiccup traced with his eyes the outline of Jack's shoes, laying discarded on the floor beside the window seat. They must have at some point been a vivid blue, but wear had turned them a dusty grey. They reminded Hiccup of his own runners, and how he too had worn his into the ground. It was such a silly thing, but in that second Hiccup was reminded of how only yesterday Jack's lack of hearing had not even been on his mind. It was fine, he told himself. This could work.

When Hiccup slid into the window seat and dropped his backpack on to the ground, Jack glanced up. He smiled, flashing his wide grin that crinkled his eyes. Hiccup returned the gesture, but with a hesitance that Jack thankfully didn't pick up on.

Hiccup leaned against the window and gave a small wave, suddenly self-conscious of his own voice. The glass was cool against his back, and by the time he had settled, Jack had already flipped to a fresh page in his notebook and pushed the paper into Hiccup's waiting lap.

You're late.

The words were slanted and bled in to each other in Jack's haste to write. Hiccup checked his phone and frowned at the time. He had been unaware that Jack had even known his schedule, and was curious what else the boy had been keeping track of.

Only by a few minutes.

He argued back, sliding the notebook back into Jack's waiting hands. Jack read the note and stuck out his tongue before flashing his watch. The time read a little past four o'clock, only fifteen minutes past the time Hiccup usually arrived.

Normally you're here only a few minutes after me. This time you made me wait almost 20 minutes. I almost thought you weren't going to show.

Hiccup let out a breathy chuckle. The feeling of guilt was back, tightening around his lungs as the realization of how right Jack nearly was. The boy scratched nervously at the faint scar on his chin and gave a lopsided smile.

Where else would I go after school? Home? And what would I do there? Play video games? Nah, the library is where it's at.

Jack read this and laughed, his hand flying to his mouth as it did the day before. It was a warm, friendly sound that brought back a fraction of Hiccup's confidence and helped ease his previous nerves. It was welcoming, and before he realized it Hiccup had twisted his body so that he was facing Jack, and crossed his legs comfortably.

You're funny.

Jack wrote, a smile still dancing on his lips. He flashed the page, but then his eyes widened briefly and he took the book back.

Not many people can write in sarcasm.

As Hiccup read, he chuckled sheepishly. It was true, he had always had a sarcastic sense of humour, and he would be lying if he said it hadn't gotten him in trouble in the past. Only a select few people he knew of could tolerate his sharp tongue in large doses, and it was strangely comforting to know that Jack took his words in stride.

Consider it a talent of mine. I have many.

Such as?

Jack glanced up at him hopefully, eyes practically shining with anticipation. The sight was strangely endearing, and Hiccup felt his cheeks heat up from the attention. He stared at the paper, suddenly intimidated by the light blue lines. Had he even any real talents, he wondered?

Nosey, arent you? He began to write, only to aggressively scribble out the words as Jack watched curiously. Seconds ticked by, and it had been almost a full minute before Hiccup hesitantly handed back the notebook.

You'll have to be at least a level 8 friend before you unlock my tragic back story.

Jack read this and grinned. He held up the page for Hiccup to see, and pointed at the sentence mischievously. He didn't have to write down a response for Hiccup to see the question dancing in his eyes, already silently accepting the challenge. Jack pulled his knees underneath himself, and leaned over, writing with the notebook on the seat in front of him.

Then I guess I'll have to work harder to be your friend.

'Friend.'

Already the word was being offered to Hiccup, and not gently either. It was like a demand being forced into his hand, and Hiccup had already curled his fingers around it before he even realized what he was doing. He smiled then without realizing, tugging the book out from under Jack's hand.

I'll warn you now, I'm really annoying.

Jokes on you, so am i. why do you think I'm here?

Hiccup paused, taking the question seriously. He tossed a glance out the window as he thought, twirling his pencil in his hand. As he watched the wind make the leaves in the garden below sway gently, Hiccup began to wonder what it would be like to live in a world where he never heard the whistling of the wind, or to never fall asleep to the soothing sound of rain against the glass. He felt a twang of pity for Jack then, and flashed the boy an apologetic smile.

Jack did not seem to understand the gesture, and furrowed his brows as he returned smile with a nervous one of his own. His eyes flicked to his notebook, then back to Hiccup as if he could ask what was wrong with only a glance. Hiccup stopped twirling his pencil and held it above the notebook's pages, thinking long and hard about what he was to write. He must have taken too long however, as before he knew it the book was snatched out from underneath him, and Jack was scribbling furiously.

Is something wrong?

He asked, holding the book up for Hiccup to read. There was a tension in Jack's shoulders that was not there before, and his fingers gripped the pages with a force that was not necessary. Hiccup tightened his hold on his pencil. The feeling of wrongness was back and seized his chest with icy hands. He should not have hesitated. He should not have come. Jack was staring at him, and the longer Hiccup waited to respond, the more Jack's smile wavered.

When he took the notebook back, Jack sat back on his calves and folded his hands in his lap. He waited anxiously, wringing his fingers together while his eyes flitted from Hiccup's hand to the boy's face. Hiccup hated how Jack's lips were twisting downwards, knowing that he was the reason that expression was there in the first place. His hand wavered, but finally Hiccup put his pencil to the paper.

I didn't want to ask but,

Jack took a sharp inhale through his nose and gripped his hands together with enough force to turn his knuckles white.

Can you hear me?

There was a moment where warm chocolate eyes met sharp green that Hiccup thought it was he who was deaf, and not Jack. The silence was deafening as he watched Jack's expression fall, and hurt flash across his every feature. His eyes poured over the page, rereading the sentence as if he could will it to say anything else. Hiccup sat with his heart in his throat, fingers clutching almost desperately onto the notebook while he waited for Jack to give him a response.

Slowly Jack shook his head, as if his answer carried the weight of the world. It was such a small gesture, but in it it proved all of Hiccup's suspicions. Jack looked down at his hands, as if only now realizing what he had been doing. He released his hold, leaving his fingers with angry red marks from where he had been wringing them, and reached out, taking back his notebook with quivering hands.

Im sorry.

Was all Jack wrote before he threw his legs back over the seat and stomped his feet in to his shoes. Before Hiccup had a proper chance to react Jack had already snatched his notebook back and thrown his backpack back on his shoulders. He clutched the notebook close to his chest, and had taken all of two steps before he felt Hiccup's hand tug at the pocket of his backpack. It was the first thing Hiccup could grab before Jack was out of his reach, and unconsciously he called out a soft 'wait' despite Jack not being able to hear it.

The boy paused, sparing a glance behind him. "Wait." Hiccup pled again, exaggerating each push and pull of his lips in the hopes Jack would understand him. "I am sorry." Hiccup could feel Jack's sigh as if it were his own. He released his hold on the backpack when the boy twisted to face him, eyes downcast and fingers twitching nervously.

"I didn't want you to know yet." Jack's voice was heavy and thick, as if his tongue were too large for his mouth, and his words slurred in to one another. Hiccup found himself watching Jack's lips as he spoke, surprised to hear so many words tumble out at once. He had almost expected for Jack to be unable to speak full sentences at all, and felt a touch of shock at the sound. Jack stalked forward, and perched on the edge of the window seat, eyes cast down at his feet as he ran his thin fingers through his hair, and stop at the nape of his neck.

Hiccup's hand hovered, fingers flexing before they reached out and brushed the edge of the notebook. He gently tugged at the corner closest to him until Jack released his hold, watching nervously as Hiccup flipped to a fresh page.

Why not?

He asked, offering the pages to Jack, who hesitated before accepting both the notebook, and Hiccup's pencil.

People treat you differently when you can't hear. I wanted to be your friend before I was the deaf kid.

Hiccup felt the weight of those words in his chest. He had wanted to write how Jack had no reason to worry, but deep down Hiccup knew that that was not that case. Only a short time ago he had been planning on sacrificing his daily routine if it meant he would not have to talk to, in Jack's words, 'the Deaf kid.' He could only imagine what it would be like to live with that shadow forever looming his head. Hiccup began to write before he had a chance to stop himself. It sank in then that he had only known Jack for a day, and really he knew nothing about him outside his seemingly endless supply of trivial information.

Who says we cant be friends still?

Jack smiled, although this time the action did not meet his eyes. He shrugged off his backpack and heaved a great sigh before twisting his body to face Hiccup. Although his form was not nearly as at ease as he was when Hiccup first arrived, it was soothing in a way to see some of the tension ebb away from Jack's lanky body.

I would like that.

Jack paused, holding on to the notebook with the pencil hovering over the sentence like he wanted to write more. He stared so hard at the paper, Hiccup was certain smoke would soon start curling at the edges of the words. Whatever it was Jack wanted to write however, he kept it to himself as he handed over the notebook with a tired smile.

(thank you for those who have made it this far! I must say, this chapter gave me a real headache, and I was originally going to take it in a different direction, but things don't always work out according to plan.

Anyway, if anyone is interested, I am currently on the scout for a beta. I realized as I re-read this chapter for the twenty-second time this week, I would really benefit from a second pair of eyes. If anyone has some time to spare to proof read or even offer insight, I would be forever grateful.

-With love,

Define-Sanity)