It was mealtime for the inmates. Some of them had not been keeping dinner down (a fact Gobber found disconcerting). More of them were getting thinner, but it did not look like healthy weight loss. Gobber had some of the other correctional officers deal with the messes while the inmates were taken to the infirmary to find a reason for this. As they did, he took his turn bringing dinner to a certain life-sentenced criminal. Gobber went past the other cells and unlocked the door leading to Dagur's. The light was out again, so he turned it on to see the inmate. Dagur had been staring at the ground and lifted his eyes to the correctional officer. His eyes held no ill intent in them. In truth, they barely had anything in them. Gobber opened up the small hatch and pushed the tray through.

"Come on, Dagur," the blond man encouraged, "the faster you take it, the faster you'll get to eat even if the food isn't the greatest."

The inmate walked over and took it, looking blandly at the item. Gradually, something appeared in his eyes: curiosity.

"Do you know how Hiccup's doing? And Fishy?"

Gobber's eyebrows raised at the question. He scratched his chin as he answered.

"You know the warden wouldn't want me telling you about his son."

"It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"True, but I might be if he ever found out."

"Fishlegs then?"

Gobber still seemed unsure. "I guess that won't hurt." He saw the inmate's face light up and was not certain if that was a good or bad thing. "He's doing well for himself. He's a zoologist now."

Dagur laughed, then regretted the decision. Even his happy laugh sounded abnormal and made the officer rethink giving him more information. Gobber shifted uncomfortably from his foot to his prosthetic one.

"Well, I'll leave this light on for you until it's lights out. Not sure why it keeps getting turned off."

The officer opened the door and came face to face with a surprised-looking Alvin.

"What're you doing here, Alvin?"

"I was going through my rounds."

"Not in this part. I'm on duty tonight."

Alvin stopped, blinking for several moments. "Right," he finally said. "Must've forgotten."

Turning, the correctional officer headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. Gobber watched him go with a slight frown. Aware of an odd feeling in his gut, he locked the door again and continued his rounds. Inside the cell, Dagur looked at the plate of food. It had the same monochromatic look he had grown accustomed to seeing. This did not make it more appetizing, but it did make it more edible. Sometimes, he did not even have to look at the food. Sometimes, the lights stayed out for the entire day, but these were never the days Gobber was on duty for his cell. He could expect the lights to get turned on and for the food to stay on the platter. Expectations. Those were what got Dagur through his days there. They kept him from being surprised. He could expect certain reactions from Alvin; he could expect certain behaviors from Gobber. Who he was struggling to know what to expect from was Farid. The doctor was new to Dagur. He was still trying to learn his ways–still trying to learn what he wanted. Surely, he was not there to actually help him.

"What would even be the point?" Dagur wondered. "I'm going to be stuck in this cell until I die. What difference does it make if I'm seeing little dragons crawling along the walls or as sane as the best brain surgeon? Nothing changes. I can expect that. So, what can I expect from you, Doc? What am I missing?"

Still pondering these ideas, Dagur began to eat the food. It was a quiet night which was like most of the others. When day came, Farid was on his way to another appointment. He had gotten in touch with Snotlout Jorgenson and was given an address to go to for them to talk. A feeling of confusion washed over him as he drove up to a large, rundown building. This surprised him less than when a man was blasted through the brick walls, landing on his back.

"And cut!" someone called out.

Following the direction of the voice, Farid saw a director and several cameramen who had hidden themselves within foliage to stay out of the frame.

"We'll do that one more time after lunch."

"Again?!" a short, dark-haired young man exclaimed, exhausted. He noticed the doctor's presence and straightened his back. "I mean of course we'll do it again. Nothing but the best for my fans."

"What fans?" the director asked.

The man ignored the question and strode proudly towards the psychologist.

"You must be Farid. I'm Jorgenson. Snotlout Jorgenson," he said with a dramatic bow. "Welcome to the set of my next film. It takes a lot to be an action hero, but no one's ever called me faint of heart."

Behind him, Farid saw another man around his height with the same build who also had dark hair, but he lacked the scratches and breathlessness of the person to whom he was speaking. Snotlout noticed where the gaze was going and quickly spoke.

"Don't mind him. He just does some scenes with me."

"Or more accurately, you might say he's the action hero," a new voice added.

The voice belonged to a brunette who came over and gave Snotlout a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm Minden. Snotlout told me you were coming here to talk to him. I'd take what he tells you with a large grain of salt. He has a tendency to exaggerate. For instance," she said, gesturing to the two of them, "we're both stunt doubles in this movie. Not the stars."

"He didn't need to know that part," Snotlout grumbled. He started to lightly push Minden towards the set. "Lunch isn't long and you'll miss it if you stay, so love ya, but you gots to go."

Laughing, the stuntwoman waved goodbye and went to enjoy her break. Once she was gone, Snotlout returned to the visitor.

"Don't mind her. She's had a few too many bumps on the head during her career," he said with a hand near his mouth so that no one would overhear. He then started heading off and gesturing to be followed. "Fishlegs said you'd have questions. What about?"

"Dagur. I heard you, Fishlegs, and Hiccup went to high school with him. Also that some twins by the name of Ruffnut and Tuffnut did."

"Yep, you heard right. Astrid too, but I doubt she'd tell you anything more than she found him obnoxious. She found most of us obnoxious in those days. It wasn't until Dagur was gone that she and Hiccup started spending more time together and then her and the rest of us as a result of that."

"I was told that Dagur didn't pick on you. Do you remember what he was like back then?"

Snotlout's eyes sparkled with the memory. "Yeah, I used to think he was the coolest guy in school."

"That's definitely a different opinion than the others I've heard," Farid said after a short pause. "What made you feel that way?"

"He'd never do what you'd expect him to. He was so unpredictable, like some rebel who no one ever tried to mess with. He could get away with anything. Even the teachers were scared of him! On top of that, he'd do these awesome stunts. I always wanted to join in, but he'd only pay attention when Hiccup or Fishlegs did them. I got jealous of them for a while since he barely noticed I existed. Every once in a while, he'd call me 'Snothat' or 'Snot' plus some other word besides 'lout.'"

"Did you think the others had a reason to be scared of him?"

Snotlout shrugged. "I couldn't tell. Sometimes he would seem really intense and it didn't take a genius to see he had a short fuse. Still, he never actually hurt anyone…who wasn't messing with Hiccup or Fishlegs. Actually, that was the first time he noticed me." With a sheepish look, he continued. "I-uh-some of that jealousy was being directed at Hiccup. I was going to give him a swirly when Dagur came in. He used one of his knives to pin my shirt to the sink so that I'd be under the soap dispenser. Each time I moved, I got a face full of suds. I figured out that I'd have to play nice with Hiccup and Fishy if I wanted to be his friend."

"You still wanted to be?"

"Of course. I told you, he was the coolest guy in school! My plan just didn't work, but I guess it all turned out fine. After Dagur wasn't a student there anymore, I realized I really did end up befriending Hiccup and Fishy."

Snotlout stopped talking when they had reached a car with its windows down. A doberman pinscher had its head poking out. As soon as Snotlout opened the door, the dog leapt out and onto him, squashing him.

"Hookfang!" the owner cried out, trying to free himself.

The doberman started to get up, but he pounced on Snotlout once he was starting to stand up again.

"I was going to walk you while Farid and I talked, but if you're going to be like this, I won't."

Considering this, the dog finally got off of him for good so that the leash could be attached to his collar. Snotlout huffed, but there started to form a smile he struggled to keep from showing.

"What did you think when you heard about Dagur getting arrested?" the psychologist asked him.

Snotlout stopped and frowned slightly. "I didn't really know what to think. It didn't feel real. It was like some messed up joke."

"It sounds like you were surprised."

"I was. I wouldn't say I never could've seen him as a killer, but I didn't see him as a senseless killer. That was the part that really got me. For a while, it was all anyone would talk about. I guess it stopped seeming so strange after the fiftieth person said they saw it coming."

The two walked a little further with the dog, then took him back to the car, and headed towards the set. Before Snotlout went to prepare to do the stunt again, he stopped.

"I know Fishy doesn't think you'll get anywhere with Dagur, but if you find out why he did what he did, I'd be interested in knowing."

"I'll let you know."

A small smile appeared on the stuntman's face and he left. Farid went to his own car and began driving to the jail.

"There are some answers I'd like to know too," he thought. "Maybe today, I'll actually get them."