A/N – Dunununununununa UPDATE! Too much coffee today? Maybe. Am I up too late? Totally. Should I be in bed right now? You betcha. Tomorrow morning is going to suck, but I've got three weeks of school left and then I'm done – forever. I'm not going back to school.

X

Chapter 13

Hiccup couldn't concentrate on his writing. He'd managed to squeeze out a rough outline of his book, but it felt incomplete, somehow. It felt…lackluster. He'd organized his notes as much as he could. In truth…he hadn't been ghost hunting in the house like he thought he would. He'd spent far more time talking with Astrid and trying to figure out what had happened.

That first day they'd communicated with the flashlights had been so amazing. He'd made contact so quickly and she had been so ready to talk back. He needed more sessions like that; he needed to record sessions like that. He needed them for his site, for his credibility, for his reputation as a legit ghost hunter, not a fraud like people wanted to call him. Relying on his evidence of trans-time crossings would not support him with that crowd.

Hiccup had decided to leave those parts out in case people accused him of lying, or having "visions" – which accumulated to lies.

When he'd written all he thought he could, he put his shoes on and walked outside. He walked down the weedy property line – he should look into one of those lawncare companies – and down to the old family cemetery. It didn't take long to find Jacob's now faded and weathered tombstone; beside him was his wife, Carla. He found Randal and Ingrid, buried side by side. Beside them were their three children, in order of death: Robert, Willie, and Astrid.

Standing so close to Astrid's grave gave him a fierce chill. It reiterated her death. Hiccup sighed. Dead. Astrid was dead, no matter how alive her spirit seemed.

Undoubtedly, the house would feel empty with her gone.

With those thoughts, another struck him; did he want her to move on?

It shocked him when he couldn't think of an answer. Yes, he did, because that's what he should want. He should want the best for her lingering spirit. No, he didn't, because he'd gotten used to her. He liked having her around.

The graves hadn't told him anything that he didn't already know, so Hiccup started back toward the house. The weather was nice, warm, but nice. He crossed the wide lawn to the ageless oak. He walked behind it on his way to the backdoor, then he heard their voices.

"What do you say?" a male asked. Hiccup knew the voice; it was Eret.

"I-I don't know what to say," Astrid whispered, either worried or excited.

Hiccup stepped around the tree; he stood behind Astrid. She and Eret were hidden in the shade of it from the house. Anyone looking couldn't see them. He peered around her shoulder. Eret held onto her left hand, where a ring now sat.

An small engagement ring.

"I would hate not to tell them," Astrid said. "To just leave like that…they would be worried."

"We'd send them a letter when we got there," Eret said.

"How do you know my father wouldn't be mad?"

Eret said nervously, "I admit, he's part of the reason I want to elope."

Astrid looked up at him. She didn't look worried at his words. Slowly, she nodded. "I know. He's…getting worse, isn't he?"

"Half the time I'm not sure he even knows who I am," Eret said. "He's always got this angry look about him, like he can't decide if he wants to kill me or not. I worry about you here, Astrid. I'll take better care of you, and you'll take care of me. I've got a good job lined up. We'll be more than alright."

Hiccups stood for a moment listening to them talk about eloping. He knew it never happened. Astrid hadn't married. According to his research, she never had gotten engaged. They would not elope, and yet Hiccup felt a dislike for the entire affair.

Eret and Astrid had both grown since the last time he'd seen them. Neither looked gangly or awkward; Eret looked every bit a young man who could hold his own. Astrid had become a young woman. Her limbs had filled out from her gangly teenage years and her dress showed those gentle curves.

What time was it? Hiccup put a hand to his pocket like his phone would somehow magically know the year. His phone, however, remained in 2016. The screen didn't respond to his touch – it had frozen.

"We can't this week," Astrid said, slipping the ring from her finger. Eret closed his hand around it. "It's mother's birthday and she would be heartbroken if I left her now. Next week."

"Next week," Eret said. "I'll be by on Sunday for you."

"They'll never know," she said, smiling.

"They won't know until they've received a letter," Eret said. "Don't worry about your things. I'll buy you new ones once we're settled. There's a fine tailor in town. My neighbor's sister works there."

"Astrid?" Mrs. Hofferson called from the house. "Astrid, dear, where are you?"

Astrid and Eret shared a quick kiss and they started for the house. Eret tucked the ring back into a little box and tucked the box into his pocket.

Hiccup followed at a pace. He didn't want Astrid to see him. They went into the kitchen were Mrs. Hofferson sat over a large pot.

"I want to show you how to make stew," Mrs. Hofferson said. "You'll need to know."

"Of course," Astrid said, passing a sly glance to Eret.

"Eret, dear, I think Randal is looking for you. Something about some investments."

"Of course," Eret said, bowing himself out of the kitchen he started toward the study.

Hiccup got caught in the middle. He started to follow Eret; Astrid spotted him. While her mother explained the proper way to peel potatoes, her eyes followed him as he walked across the kitchen.

"Astrid, are you paying attention?"

"Yes, Mother."

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

"You'll have plenty of time to stare at Eret once you're properly married, now come here and pay attention. I don't want to get letters from you saying how horrible you've been cooking. A man needs a good wife to cook for him.
"Yes, Mother."

Hiccup lingered in the doorway. Astrid looked every bit as lovely in life as she did in death; as her mother cooked, Astrid cast glimpses over her shoulder at Hiccup. When Astrid looked toward the stew, Hiccup slipped into the hallway. He walked to the office, where Randal and Eret were chatting about people and banking accounts.

He noticed at once what Eret had meant about Randal looking strange. Dark circles hung under his eyes and he'd lost considerable weight. His skin had paled and sunken in. He looked like a deranged prisoner.

Hiccup slipped into the office. Neither man seemed to noticed him. He walked around to the desk and peered down at the papers.

He was looking for a date.

At last, he found one on a fresh letter that Randal had paused in writing. The date in the corner read April 5, 1880.

Hiccup felt his skin crawl. Astrid died in 1880.

If she and Eret planned on eloping that next weekend, and they never made it, then that would mean something stopped them – like a death. It meant that Astrid would die within the following week.

She did not, at any point, seem the type to result to suicide. Hiccup refused to believe it. Of course, he'd heard that heartbreak drove people to do what they never thought themselves capable.

Had Eret broken the engagement? Had he met the woman who would become his wife? Both her parents seemed keen on their marriage, what then could have happened?

Hiccup stayed in the office listening to Eret and Randal talk for a while longer, then he drifted back into the kitchen were Astrid and Mrs. Hofferson stood. Astrid had taken over the cutting board. She didn't peel potatoes nearly as fast as her mother.

Hiccup leaned against the doorframe, intent of finding the answer, but Astrid vanished. Instead, Fishlegs stood in the kitchen.

"Oh, hey," Hiccup said casually.

"You've been crossing again," Fishlegs said, with all the damnation of accusing a recovering alcoholic of sneaking a drink.

"Yes," Hiccup said. "I told you, Fishlegs, I can't help it. I don't control what happens. It just happens."

"Okay," Fishlegs said. "So…did you learn anything useful?"

"I'm close to when Astrid died," Hiccup said. "I'm in 1880. She seems happy. Everything seems normal. I don't know what happened, but I'm going to find out."

"Just be careful, okay?" Fishlegs said. "I can't run this show without you. You're basically the backbone."

Hiccup chuckled nervously, and said, "I'll do my best, Fishlegs. Don't worry. Come October, we'll be back in business. I just need some more time here."

X

Hiccup knew that his next crossing would be the revelation. He just knew it. He waited for it to happen, but it seemed that time itself had slowed. He tried to work on his book. He tried to reread his previous books for inspiration. He tried to clean.

Nothing worked. All he could think about was Astrid. How and why had she died? He needed to know. So far, the fates that be had given him all the crossings he could handle, but one…two…three days ticks by without anything.

Hiccup was losing it.

He ticked away the time at his computer, answering questions on the online forums, and watching the cameras around the house. He'd saved a few clips of Astrid meandering about. Each time she appeared a white or gray blur on the screen, barely moving, always gliding.

Astrid seemed to be keeping to herself, too. She appeared to him a few times, but never more than a few seconds at a time. That, too, bothered him. Why not stay and chat? Was she worried? Did she know what he would soon find out?

On the fifth day without a crossing, Hiccup couldn't sleep. He laid there on top of the covers, his mind a blurry mess of stress.

Why hadn't he gone back? Why leave him hanging?

He groaned and rubbed his face; everything felt so twisted.

A gentle footstep creaked across his threshold. Since he hadn't left his door open, that only left one person who could enter without opening the door first.

"Is that you?" Hiccup asked.

Astrid appeared through his fingers. In the darkness of the room, she looked as real as she could have. The darkness and pale, filtered moonlight dappled her features in pebbled blue shadow. She sat down on the edge of the bed. He felt her weight upon it.

"You and Eret were going to elope," he said.

She nodded.

"But you didn't," he said.

She pointed at him.

"Me? What about me?"

She pointed adamantly at him, a smile on her lips.

"It's not my fault," Hiccup said, laughing. "You wanted to stay for your mother's birthday."

She smiled mischievously.

"Oh? Was that a lie?"

She bit her lip.

"It was? Why lie to Eret? He seemed like a good guy."

She nodded in agreement, then pointed at Hiccup.

"Do you think I scared him off?" Hiccup asked. "I mean, I didn't mean to haunt you, basically. I didn't realize that would happen like that. It's weird, you know, to think that you already knew me before I'd move in. I thought that I'd somehow mess up time by going back."

She scooted onto the bed and sat cross-legged beside him.

"I guess…it was always supposed to happen the way it did?" Hiccup wondered aloud. "I was supposed to go back and you were supposed to see me? It doesn't make a lot of sense. Of course, I work in the paranormal field and what's normal to me often sounds crazy to everyone else. It all boggles my mind."

Astrid smiled and leaned forward to ruffle a cool hand through his hair, as if to say, don't worry about it.

Hiccup felt her touch as real as if he'd ruffled his own hair.

Her hand lingered at his temple, but then, she vanished.

He sat on the bed alone, on the Hofferson's bedspread. Astrid no longer sat with him. From downstairs, he heard the strumming of several guitars. He swung his legs back over the bedside and stood. He walked toward the stairs, but paused at the sight of Astrid's open bedroom door.

He glanced inside; she wasn't inside. Curious, he walked through the threshold. All of her things were still in place. A worrisome thought struck his heart – had she already died?

No. A blue dress had been laid out on the bed. It was the dress that her ghost wore, the dress she would die in.

Hiccup walked to the window where a strange light glowed. There seemed to be some sort of party behind the house, with candles and lanterns. People sang bluegrass-style songs to the guitars; someone stomped out a beat on what sounded like an upturned bucket.

A short gasp made him spin around. Astrid, just as she'd appeared a few days before, stood wide-eyed in her doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I-I…" Hiccup started. "To be honest, I'm not sure."

"Who are you?"

"You… can you hear me?"

She nodded, mouth gapping, eyes wide.

Hiccup hesitated; everything he did, she would remember. Her ghost already knew what happened here.

"A friend," he answered simply.

"I've seen you," she whispered.

"I know," he said. "I've seen you, too."

She didn't seem to quite understand, but she didn't question him.

"Is it your mother's birthday?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Who are all those people out there?"

"Relatives," she said. She stood frozen on the threshold. "They only come up once or twice a year. The winter months are too difficult to travel. They choose the warmer months."

"Makes perfect sense," he said.

They stood there a moment, staring at one another. Hiccup swallowed. Things had progressed. She heard him. He heard her. It was as if he belonged in this time.

A chorus of melodic shouts came from the backyard.

He asked, "It sounds like fun. Do you dance?"

"Sometimes," Astrid said. "I suspected I would be dancing more tonight, but it seems God had a different idea."

"What do you mean?"

"My…" Astrid paused, then said, "fiancé wasn't able to make it tonight. He had work."

"Eret," Hiccup said. Astrid frowned at him. "I know."

"What are you?" Astrid said. "You're a ghost, aren't you?"

"I'm not sure of that either," Hiccup said. "To you, I might be."

The music paused, then changed into a lively tune.

"Astrid, can I tell you something?"

"I suppose."

"I've never really been a dancer. It wasn't something that we did. We had dances, but I never went," he said. "But…before I go again, may I have this dance?"

He walked to the center of the room and held his hand out to her. Astrid looked partly petrified and partly intrigued. She glanced behind her and down the stairs, and then gingerly shut her bedroom door behind her.

"How do I know you're not here to do me harm?"

"If I am a ghost, then I can't," he said.

Astrid seemed to consider this. She took careful steps forward and then placed her hand in Hiccup's. Her hand felt strange in his, real, but not real, like a pretend hand. He set his hand on her waist like he'd seen them do in old movies, and started to meander about the floor.

Astrid let out a laugh.

"What? Is it that bad?"

"You've never danced before, have you?"

He shook his head. "I told you I hadn't."

"I'll show you," she said. She position his hand on her waist and set her own on his shoulder. "See your feet? You're supposed to lead, but since I'm teaching, I'll lead."

"What does that mean?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "That means I'm leading the dance. I will move my feet first, and then you copy my movement. See? I move my left, you move your right with mine, like they're connected at the toes."

"Oh, okay," Hiccup said, watching her brown shoes move; he stepped with her.

They moved slowly at first, one step at a time. It took him a while to get the hang of it. The music added a rhythm and he found it easier to step in time with it. Soon he and Astrid were dancing about her bedroom.

"See? It's not as hard as it looks," Astrid said as the music died down and another started.

"You're right," he said. They'd stopped dancing.

He stood for a moment, still holding onto her hand and her waist, unsure of what to do.

"This is typically the moment where the man parts with a kiss," she whispered.

He glanced down at her mouth; he'd already touched her hand and hadn't destroyed space and time. What would a kiss hurt?

Hiccup bent down and pressed his lips against hers. Despite the strange feeling of her lips not being entirely real, butterflies swarmed in his insides. Before the kiss had ended, she vanished from his touch. Hiccup opened his eyes to see her ghost, standing a short ways off, shimmering in the ambient moonlight that draped in from her bedroom window.

She'd known what happened before he'd ever moved in.