Author's Note: I had to do a bit of research for this chapter and a few of the upcoming ones. If I got anything wrong, let me know, so I can correct it.
Head up, I am going to try and squeeze every single side character I can into this story. I do not care if they are from Berk or not. If I want to make Throk a physical therapist or a club bouncer, I will. I want to see how many I can fit into this story.
Anyways moving forward. Please enjoy the second chapter of This Changes Everything.
Stoick paced the waiting room he had been all but shoved in, by a couple of nurses. He had arrived just seconds after the ambulance carrying his son did. He practically threw himself out of his car, when he saw the blood-soaked sheets that covered his son.
"Hiccup, my son," Stoick cried as one of the EMTs held him back as his partners rushed the unconscious teen inside.
"He's alive," the EMT reassured, not daring to voice their doubts. After all, this was the mayor they were talking and that teen was their son. "Let me get a couple nurses of and they'll tell you where you need to go. Okay?"
And now here he was, alone in a room, with no information on his son. He tried to distract himself by answering emails, but all of the latest ones he'd received were asking about the explosion and if anyone was hurt.
He looked up at the TV that was broadcasting the explosion, but the reporters seemed to have as much information as he did. "With the fire finally put out, the firefighters have begun their investigation alongside the police. Right now it is suspected that a gas main blew. As for casualties, a teenage boy, who has yet to be identified has been rushed to Berk Memorial, and store owner, Gobber Alfson has been found dead. Our hearts go out to his family and friends. That is all the information we have for now, but stay tuned to stay updated."
Stoick took a bit of solace in the fact that the reporter didn't name his son. If they did, reporters from all over would be crowding the hospital harrassing the doctors, nurses, other patients, and himself. Just as he was considering sitting down a doctor walked in.
"Mr. Haddock?" the doctor asked, confirming he had the right person.
"Yes," Stoick affirmed. "Is Hiccup okay? Can I see him?"
The doctor gestured to the seats, hinting that he should sit down, which he obliged to do. "We've got him stabilized at the moment, but he will need surgery, possibly multiple. Most of his burns are superficial, a few are more severe, but the main concern is his leg."
"His leg?" Stoick repeated in the form of a question.
"Yes," the doctor said. "According to the EMTs who spoke with the firefighters, an industrial pipe fell on it. We could try saving it, but he'd spend the rest of his life in pain, and most likely unable to walk either properly or ever."
Stoick got a sick feeling in his gut he knew what the doctor was suggesting and he didn't like it one bit. "Are you asking me if it's okay to cut off my 15-year-old son's leg?"
"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "And we need a decision now. The sooner we get him into surgery the better his chances. I am sorry to have to burden you with this."
Stoick buried his head in his hands and took a shaky breath, feeling the tears he'd been holding back, threatening to spill. He knew that when it came to his son, there was no choice. He wasn't about to subject him to a life of pain and suffering for the sake of image. "Go ahead. Bring me whatever forms you need me to fill out. Can I at least see him first?"
"I can spare you a couple of minutes, but we have to get him into surgery as soon as possible," the doctor offered. "He's still out of it, so don't expect him to hold a conversation."
The two stood up and walked in the direction of the ER.
Stoick nearly lost his breakfast at the sight of his son. His chest and arms were covered in bandages, his legs were covered with a thin sheet. If Stoick concentrated he could make out the mangled shape of Hiccup's left leg. The teen was also hooked up to several machines that were monitoring his vital and helping keep him alive.
He stepped over to the bed and leaned over his son's head. "I am so sorry, son. This shouldn't have happened." He placed a hand on top of Hiccup's head and gave his hair a slight ruffle. "I'll be right here, by your side, when you wake up." He touched his forehead against Hiccup's, breathing in the scent of smoke and grease.
"Time's up," the doctor said, placing a hand on Stoick's broad shoulder.
The mayor looked over at the doctor and nodded. He took a second to study the nametag, "Atali Beckstrom", so he could remember later on. "Aye, Dr. Beckstrom."
Beckstrom gave the man a small smile. "I'll have a nurse lead you back to the waiting room. Unless you want to head home to retrieve some of your son's things. Having personal items might make recovery a bit easier."
Stoick pondered this for a moment before shaking his head while taking out his phone. "No, I'll stay. I'll have my brother stop by the house."
He watched as a team of nurses and doctors wheeled his son out of the room toward the OR.
Berk Academy: Home of the Dragon:
"Did you hear the explosion this morning?" "I heard someone died, is it true?" "I heard some teen was caught in the fire." "Hey has anyone seen Hiccup?" were the questions on everyone's mind throughout the school day. Most of them were being directed at one person. The kid of the town's Chief of Police, Snotlout Jorgenson.
Snotlout was just as clueless as everyone else. His mom sent him to school, even though it was his uncle's shop that had exploded. He had tried texting his dad between classes, but never got any answers. When the lunch bell rang he decided, he couldn't stay in school anymore. He grabbed his stuff from his locker and ran to the entrance. He was almost there when he was stopped by security.
"Where do you think you're going, Jorgenson," the guard asked.
"Look Alvin," Snotlout said, resisting the urge to shove past the massive man in front of him. "Something is wrong with my family and no one is telling me anything. You can either let me go, or I'm going to kick you so that way one of my parents is forced to come down here to talk to me."
"There's no need for that," Alvin said, gripping the teen's shoulder. "Let's take a walk to the office." Without waiting for a response he began to lead Snotlout in the direction of the main office.
A million thoughts swam through Snotlouts head, each one worse than the last. He felt his insides starting to knot up the more he thought about the horrors of what might have happened.
Unaware of it at the time, but he was being watched by a few of his classmates. They stood by and witnessed as he was dragged away by Alvin.
"Think he's going to be okay, Astrid?" the burlier teens of the group asked.
"I don't know, Fishlegs," Astrid admitted. "The explosion has everyone rattled and the news hasn't offered any updates since it happened. At least news we don't know of. The principal is probably blocking us from accessing the news outlets. But that's Snotlout's family. His uncle has been running that shop for 30 years. And his cousin, Hiccup practically lives in the shop. Keeping him in the dark is just asking for trouble."
"We can get behind some trouble," one of the other teens joked.
"Trouble is the last thing he needs, Tuffnut," Astrid chided. "He needs support and we are the closest thing he and his cousin have to friends. So why don't you see if you can break through the block the principal put up instead of making jokes."
"Hey, we're theater geeks, not tech geeks," Tuffnut's identical twin sister defended. "Ask Fishlegs to do it."
Fishlegs shook his head. "I can't get in trouble, Ruffnut, I need a perfect record if I'm going to get into MIT."
Tuffnut rolled his eyes. "No one cares about that anymore. They care about skill. Getting rid of the block will show those MIT nerds what you're capable of when it matters. Now come on. We need to know what's going on." He handed Fishlegs his tablet. "Use my tablet if you don't want to get caught. ISS will be a good chance for me to practice my prison break scene."
Fishlegs reluctantly took his friend's tablet and logged in. Within a couple of minutes, he broke through the school's restricted access and pulled up a news site. "Okay, here we go, The Berk Bulletin. Latest news. Ah, here it is; Fire On North Market Drive. 'An explosion rattled the town this morning when the well-known Gobber's Workshop went in flames. Gobber Alfson was dead at the scene. His nephew, 15-year-old Hiccup Haddock was rushed to Berk Memorial, in critical condition. Last we heard, he was still in surgery and his father, Mayor Stoick Haddock is refusing all interviews at this time. We still do not what caused the explosion, but a broken gas main has been ruled out.'"
Fishlegs nearly dropped the tablet as he finished reading the article.
"Poor Snot," Tuffnut said as he took the tablet back.
"What are we going to do?" Ruffnut asked.
Astrid sighed. "We can't do or say anything. Snotlout should hear this from his parents, not us."
Snotlout paced back and forth in front of the reception desk, much to the dismay of both the secretary and Alvin. Both told him to sit but realized it was pointless.
Just when the teen was ready to try and run again, his parents walked in. His father had changed into civilian clothes and his mother was still wearing her pajamas. Both looked like they'd spent the entire morning crying.
"What's going on?" Snotlout practically shouted. He needed answers. "Why won't anyone tell me anything?"
Spitelout looked over at the secretary. "Is there a place where we can talk privately?"
The secretary nodded and gestured toward the Vice Principal's office. "Mr. Oswald has left for the day. You can use his office."
Spitelout put a hand on his son's shoulder and pointed him toward the office. Together the family of three walked into the vacant office. Spitelout closed, locked the door, and leaned against the desk, while his wife and son sat down on the couch.
"Look son, I understand that you are upset and worried, and we shouldn't have kept you in the dark," Spitelout began as a new set of tears began prickling the edges of his eyes. "But we needed more information before we told you anything."
"What happened?" Snotlout asked, feeling panic rise in his chest.
"Hiccup is in the hospital," Spitelout answered. "Right now he's in surgery. They're... They're removing part of his leg."
"And Uncle Gobber?" Snotlout questioned.
The Chief of Police shook his head, tears freely rolling down his cheeks. "He didn't make it. The coroner needs to perform an autopsy first, but according to the firefighter that checked on him, it looked like he'd taken quite a beating and succumbed to the injuries either before or during the fire."
Snotlout choked back the urge to openly sob. He was tough. And tough people didn't cry, at least not at school. "What now? What can I do?"
"I'm going to drop you and your mom off at home, then I'm going to head to the hospital and sit with Stoick," Spitelout said. "I called the principal before we got here and let him know that you won't be in school for a few days."
Snotlout just nodded, he wanted to go with his dad to the hospital, but he wouldn't be very useful there. His mom needed him to keep her company.
Author's Note: As I mentioned earlier, I did my research to the best of my abilities, if I got anything wrong, let me know and I will correct it. I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I look forward to hearing what you guys think of it. Remember this kind of story is a bit outside of my wheelhouse. Modern Day AUs are not my strong suit. But whump is.
FYI, religion doesn't really exist in this universe, or at least in Berk. Some characters might say "Oh my gods", or something like that, but it's just a saying with no real belief behind it.
As always don't for to follow and review.
Until next time