The end of the day, somehow, was worse. One friend had a particular skill in making that so. Astrid, as it turned out, was not the last person to speak to Merida before her disappearance. Maybe he thought that would make her feel better. His common sense was alarmingly faulty.

He described the last time they spoke, at least they last time Merida tried talking to someone. Hiccup had seen her, heard her, and averted her before anything meaningful had been said. There was no knowing where she went afterward. Astrid remembered the last things she had said to her before then. The clear truth stung her. "She was going to apologize to you."

"I really doubt that."

She didn't see him roll his eyes, but was prepared to pry them out in the event.

"Do you remember who we're talking about?" He asked.

"Yeah," Astrid answered, "Merida. I actually knew her. Even when I was pissed at her I gave her a chance to talk."
"Sorry, it wasn't like I had any reason to think she had anything to say to me." Good god, nothing was more obnoxious than his false apologies.

"Just because you don't like her doesn't mean she doesn't matter."

Hiccup became defensive. "I don't not like her, I don't care about her," he said, then stammered, "I - I don't feel either way about her, as a person, I mean." Astrid waited for him to decide what he was saying. He finally stated, "It's bad that she's missing. I have no opinion of her."

"That's an obvious truth followed by an obvious lie."

"What do you want me to say, Astrid?"

"Does that matter? This has nothing to do with me. Or you." She took one step closer. "If there's anything I want you to say - anybody to say - it would be 'We forgot to tell you, she's home safe now'. But if you're seriously more concerned about saying the 'right thing' to me than what's going on," Astrid then halted to sharpen her point, "Re-prioritize."

Then, Astrid was recounting his recounting to the only person she could stand talking to anymore. "That was the last time anyone talked to her. Here I was feeling guilty for what I had said."

"You think he thinks it's his fault?" Heather asked.
"What?"

"Like if he hadn't argued with her, she wouldn't have embarrassed herself like that. And if he didn't walk away, she'd still be around. He'd be wrong, but you know him. Thinks too much."
"Whatever he thinks isn't my priority. I'm not going to worry about him when she could be anywhere, dead or alive."

"Astrid, Merida really seems like the kind of girl that either gets what she needs or takes what she wants, and she didn't want to be here."

What could that mean? That Merida had needed this to happen? Astrid didn't ask, ony stared at Heather.

"She didn't get kidnapped or hurt, she ran away." The thought shocked Astrid, and while she couldn't bring herself to bet on anything else, she was sure it was wrong.

She looked to Heather without doubt. "No, she wouldn't."
"She just moved somewhere new and confusing, she was frustrated, mad at her parents, with only a couple friends-"

"You barely knew her, Heather."

"So did you."

"She's not that stupid."

"I've done it!"

"That was once, and… different."

Heather shook her head. "It wasn't once."

Astrid waited, unable to respond.

"The first time, I was five. Then eleven, then thirteen… then a couple months ago."

"You can't be serious." She could believe once or even twice, but not four times. Heather, though, showed no sign of bluffing. "I know you've had trouble with foster parents before, but… what happened a couple months ago?"

Heather waved her off. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine."

"Why would you run away if you were fine?"

"Sometimes you don't feel fine, but a few days later, you're fine. You'd understand if you were a little more..." She glanced around, hoping not to unflatter Astrid, "Rebellious."

"I'm rebellious," Astrid protested.

"You're confident, you're cool, you kick ass," Heather said, "but you're not rebellious. You do what you know, just aggressively. Like one of those fighting robots with rotating saws sticking out of them."

"God, Fishlegs has been showing those videos to you too?"

"They're awesome!" Heather laughed. "But Merida and I aren't like that. We do something wild because we don't know what else to do. If I'm okay, she'll be okay."

That would be more comforting to hear if Astrid could ever be sure Heather was okay. Moving around to different families every few years is how Heather had shown up, and how she'd disappeared again. She walked a thin line, and Astrid wondered how she earned the privilege to her own car after a runaway.

"Maybe it is his fault, then."

"I doubt it," Heather answered, "but let him sweat. It'll teach him something."