Me: *blinks*
October: WHAT'S UP, LIL BITCH?

I'm sorry,I did not mean to take three months to update...

Anyways.

It goes without saying that Daniel James Fenton had a hard time getting drunk.

Kind of ironic, all things considered. The accident slowed his heart rate, froze his breathing until it was almost nonexistent, dropped his internal temperature enough to mistake him for a corpse – hell, for a good year or so Danny was convinced he'd never age again until he'd hit a long-time-coming growth spurt at the end of sophomore year. By all logic, his metabolism should have slowed with the rest of his bodily functions.

But no. Because apparently, being part ghost and living outside of the Infinite Realms meant that he burned upwards of 4000 calories per day. Give or take. He wasn't exactly passing Physical Education.

But Danny digressed: he had a hard time getting drunk, and when he did , it passed incredibly fast. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, considering he technically shouldn't be drinking at all : not as a teenager, and certainly not as a person with ghost powers that are easily activated. But, he figured, hey: he's already (partially) dead, already wanted by the government, and currently on a not-date with his ex-girlfriend who he's also wanted (and not in that way) by. To try and convince her to help him hunt down a ghost…Which he still hasn't gotten around to…

So what can a little buzz – no matter how short it lasts – do to him, really?

Nothing good. The answer is always, always, Nothing. Good.

"Don't you think you're going a little hard on the Jungle Juice?" Val questioned as Danny poured what he estimated to be his eighth solo cup. The cooler itself was down to its last dredges, and he was determined to get at least ten minutes of Unadulterated Drunkenness, much to the chagrin of the people behind him.

"What, it's good!" He chuckled, tilting the cup and taking a giant gulp.

Val crossed her arms over her chest. "It's got Everclear in it."

Danny didn't know what, exactly, Everclear was, but the warning was evident in her tone. He tried to brush her off. "I'm a heavyweight."

"No one's a heavyweight against Everclear." She said with a half-lidded glance.

He couldn't exactly protest without veering uncomfortably close to his Ghostly Endeavors, so he relented, making a point of lowering his cup. "Fair point." He hesitated, and then held it out to Val. "...You want some?"

He had probably asked that same question about three times in the last couple hours, and Val responded with the same apathetic glare every time. Which, honestly, didn't give him any hope for the important questions he had to ask her (which he still hadn't gotten around to yet…). She gave that same glare this time, too, staring at the pink-ish drink in his hands in nothing short of disdain.

But then, after a few seconds, she softened, and grabbed the base of the cup. "...sure."

Their fingertips brushed only briefly as he let go, and something in Danny's chest fluttered at the contact. He sighed as Val took what had to be the tiniest sip of all time.

"Mmm. That is good," Val agreed, handing the drink back with a small smile.

Danny chuckled and took the drink back. Their fingers touched again, and he tried to ward off the fluttering in his stomach by taking another swig. The disapproving look was back in Val's gaze as he lowered the cup, and he shrugged bashfully, "worth the hangover."

"Oh, is it?" Val rolled her eyes, turning them into tiny gems with the party lights.

Danny let his head rest against the wall they were hugging with a hum, chasing the warmth in his stomach with another sip. "Yeah, it is."

They stared at each other for a few never-ending seconds, before Val turned away, glancing at the TV mounted on the wall, where the countdown was being displayed.

"There's still a couple more minutes until midnight," she commented, tilting her head as if she was trying to gauge Danny's reaction, "is there…anything you want to do before then?"

His brow suddenly furrowed, and he frowned. That was his opening. "Um…yeah, actually. I…" He glanced at the thickening crowd in the living room – undoubtedly people filing in to watch the countdown. The noise grew louder, so he inched closer to Valerie. "I'd like your help with…something…" He trailed off as a hazy pressure began to make his head spin.

Valerie quirked an eyebrow at him. It wasn't entirely apprehensive, more curious than anything else, and he took that as a good sign. "Depends on what it is…" She responded.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Y-yeah, um…" He scoured the crowd again in growing apprehension, "Actually, can we go someplace quieter? It's kind of –" important. "Loud."

As if to emphasize his point, Dash Baxter made his first appearance in Danny's line of sight that night, hopping onto a coffee table and pointing at the TV with a shout that drew cheers from the party-goers. The new year was officially less than 100 seconds away and – were those the twins?

Danny's eyes widened at the sight of both Ruff and Tuff joining Dash on the coffee table, causing even more cheers to erupt, for some ancients-forsaken reason. They were wasted in a way that Danny could only dream of, and – decked out in Sam's accessories, for some reason?

"What are they doing here?" He blurted.

"Who?" Val, whose back was turned towards the coffee table, moved to find the point of Danny's contention, and his core leaped, grabbing her shoulder.

"No one! I mean – it's not important…" he realized how intense the shoulder-grab was, and let his grip slide down to her elbow. With a nervous chuckle, he led her away from the twins and their bounties, "let's just– step outside for a minute, yeah?"

He knew for a fact that there was nothing he could do to make Valerie Gray do something that she was opposed to, so the fact that she let herself be led by him out into the backyard was nothing to be aloof about.

His core purred at the cold wind that greeted them, easing his anxiety as the twins disappeared from view, and it made a relieved laugh bubble out of him. Inside, the countdown officially began, and he lifted his hands in solidarity, chugging what remained of his Jungle Juice until it was empty.

Val snorted at his antics, leaning against the house with an eye roll. "You're such a dork." she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Rude," Danny chuckled, but the buzz he'd been chasing was starting to appear, so he didn't take it with any malice. Not that he thought she meant it with malice.

"You're running out of year, Fenton," Val nudged his shoulder, drawing his pathetic excuse at dancing to an end, "So what did you want to tell me?"

"Mmm…" Danny hummed, letting his head thunk against the wall. The buzz was quickly turning into something stronger, manifesting in a pressure behind his eyes and a dizziness that made him want to float off the ground. It would disappear just as fast, and with it he was sure his bravado would go, too.

"I…" He started, eyes fluttering. Even without the party lights, her eyes looked like gems, "I wanted to…"

Val leaned in, raising an amused eyebrow, "You wanted to…?"

Danny leaned in, too, eyes dancing across her moonlit face. It was nice, seeing her bathed in blue instead of red. "I-I'wanted to ask you…" Her lips twisted into a half-smile, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. His core pulsed erratically, and he shook his head, snapping up to catch her patient gaze, "I need to…" her breath grazed across his cheeks in a cloud of frost. The party's countdown grew in volume, "T-to…"

"Three seconds, Fenton…" Val whispered.

"Two…" He corrected her.

Her gaze darted to his lips. "One…"

She tilted her head to the side, revealing two Dragon Riders leaning against the backyard fence.

"Oh… shit ." he slurred as fireworks exploded in the distance.

Val pulled back at the sudden exclamation, brow furrowed. It only deepened at what she saw on his face. "What?"

The explosions made his chest rattle as he pushed off the wall, he had to tap a bit into his flight to keep himself from keeling over. "Sam!" He called, finding the goth sandwiched between the two Vikings, a bottle of something in her hands.

All three of their heads snapped down towards him, as if he were the crazy one here. "Sam!" He called again, hands bunching into fists, " why are they here?"

"Uh…" Sam sideglanced awkwardly, hunching her shoulders, "what are you talking about…?" Her eyes were…considerably wide.

Danny blinked haphazardly, it kind of felt like it happened in slow motion as he buffered. She couldn't be this stupid, could she?

He scoffed, gesturing with a slightly-limp hand at the small group, "I…for the love of…I've been working my ass off trying to keep you all from – and you bring them here ? After I already – When you knew that we were –" Anger flared in his gut, enough that he felt his eyes flash, and he closed them hastily, turning away.

"...Dan…iel…" Sam warned, and he opened his eyes just as she placed a steadying hand on his forearm. He stopped swaying, "You're drunk. I don't know what you're talking about." She spat through gritted teeth.

"Oh, what, because I'm drunk I suddenly don't have to worry about everything going on here?"

"There's nothing to worry about. I've got this handled."

"Oh, clearly." He rolled his eyes dramatically, "Ancients. Look, I've been trying , okay? I know it hasn't…reallly'seemed like it, but I have , and you're makin'it really hard, okay?"

Sam must not have known what to do with that, because aside from her labored breathing and deathglare, she said nothing. For some reason, that justification made Danny's scowl deepen.

"You ssh..ould have warned me ." He hissed.

Astrid and her randomly-pink-hair opened her mouth, anger clearly evident on her face, but whatever she wanted to say was stopped by something over Danny's shoulder. She elbowed Snotlout, hand flying to her Translator Ear, covering it. Snotlout followed her lead a few seconds later.

"Sh-should've…" He stumbled back a bit.

"Danny." Val deadpanned, voice oddly quiet.

His blood ran cold.

Whipping around proved just a bit too much for his head, because he teetered quite a bit. That didn't stop him from looking for any ecto weapons in her possession. "Nothing's wrong!" He barked, trying desperately to stabilize himself, "Nothing – nothing of note here!"

Val was entirely stone-faced. Fireworks flashed in her gem-eyes, lighting her face in red, and Danny's core leapt in his chest.

He jumped to her side, trying desperately to tear her attention away from the Dragon Riders, "L-lets just, gettoutta of here, eh? I bet there's a'better place to watch the fireworks than'ere –"

"Danny."

He stumbled as he pulled on her arm, trying to manifest a smile, "Y'know, I bet if we leave now we could even –"

"Hey, Fenturd!"

Oh, no…

Danny turned to find Dash Baxter, in all his drunken glory, stalking up to him with a grimace that meant no good. He groaned, suddenly dizzy.

"It's bad enough that you felt entitled to take the rest of the Jungle Juice, but now you're causing a scene?" Dash sneered, side-glancing Sam and the Dragon Riders, "That's not any way to bring in the new year, man."

"Oh, like you care." Danny spat, entirely unwilling to put up with Dash's bullshit. Not tonight.

"On the contrary, I very much do." Dash glanced over his shoulder at his usual entourage, "Now I know no one here invited you, so that means you stole our beverages."

"Gee, Dash. Why don't you just go ahead and call the cops." Danny deadpanned, "now that would be a great way to start the new year."

That seemed to be a tad too far for Danny's oldest bully, because with a somehow-even-deeper scowl, he rushed forward, bunching his fist into Danny's coat until his heels lifted off the ground. This was much to the chagrin of Sam and, apparently, Valerie, who began retaliating. Danny couldn't really make out the words all that well.

Dash's breath billowed hot and sour across Danny's cheeks as he pulled him in close. "I may not be able to call the cops on you for this, Fenton," he hissed, "but I can do this ."

Then Dash shoved Danny's chest. Hard. Hard enough to knock the breath out of him, even, but it seemed his bully was just as – if not more – drunk than Danny himself. Dash threw himself off-kilter with the force, careening to the side in a strange shoulder-check. On drunken instinct, Danny grabbed ahold of his opponent's shirt as they both fell backwards.

Ice exploded on his back with a splash, and then his head was underwater.

Like someone had snapped their fingers, the alcohol evaporated from his system.

Oh. This was just great.

Danny watched, as if in slow motion, as bubbles danced to the choppy surface above him – a mockery of the fireworks that still flashed in the sky.

You know, maybe he could just stay here for a while. Yeah, just stay here forever, in the ice-cold, where he belongs, where the sounds can't reach him and his discretions are a whole world away.

Oh, he was an idiot .

An overwhelming concoction of anger and embarrassment was radiating off Dash like a space heater as he flailed to the surface, and Danny sighed as he watched the other teen bank for the edge of the pool.

The air that left his lungs allowed him to sink until his back hit the bottom of the pool, and he allowed himself a few hedonistic seconds to relax.

…okay. He should get up now.

A bunch of heads started peeking over the edge of the pool.

…he should really get up, now.

Danny breached the surface to a cacophony of chaos, namely centering around Dash, quivering in the cold while attempting to hold his ground against a pissed Valerie.

Under literally any other circumstances, Danny would be flattered. But at the moment, he had a feeling that Dash was just a casualty in the oncoming confrontation.

At the very least, he couldn't see any of the Dragon Riders nearby. Good – it was best to keep them out of Valerie's line of sight. He was definitely still angry about that, but the cold was numbing it just a tad.

Who he did see, though, was Tucker, who apparently had been lured outside with all the commotion. With a heavy sigh, Danny waded over to the shallows to find him crouched next to a scowling Sam at the edge of the pool. Danny couldn't hold her gaze for more than a couple seconds, chin falling to the water as he pressed his lips together.

There was a very familiar sigh, and then Sam thrust out her hand. "Come on." She grumbled, dangerously monotonous, "Let's get you dried off."

Dash Baxter's mother must have been a fan of the Beach-Themed Bathroom Fad. As the door closed, and then latched behind Danny, he found himself staring at a wall ornament of various sea creature corpses.

The only sound for a few seconds was the quiet, pathetic dripping of pool water hitting the linoleum.

"Is it out of your system now?" Sam asked.

He'd never really noticed all the bumps starfish had. It was kind of gross, actually.

"Danny." Tucker said.

With a sigh, he nodded. There was no noise to indicate how Sam took that, but he could imagine her crossing her arms over her chest.

He let himself fall intangible, and the water fell off him with a resounding splash.

"What were you thinking?" Sam's monotone was no less bone-chilling than it was in the pool.

"What were you thinking?" He snapped back, initially zeroing in on Sam, but soon focusing on Tucker, because he also didn't seem all that surprised to find the Dragon Riders there, "what were both of you thinking? You should have told me you were bringing them!"

"Why, so you could tell us no?" Sam snapped and then scoffed, running a hand through her hair, "Ancients – we aren't children , Danny! We had it handled!"

"Oh, what, so you think because you can dye their hair pink and dress them up in some goth accessories that no one will recognize them?" Danny bit back, "listen, I know better than pretty much everyone here that hair color can only go so far as a disguise!"

"Well it worked, didn' it?"

" Did it?" Danny snapped.

" Yeah, it'did! Until you decided t'go all Drunk Psycho on us!"

"This isn't about me being drunk, this is about the fact that you distrust Val so much that you'd rather sabotage any chance I could have with her!"

"No!" Sam shouted, "this is about you trusting her over us!" She stomped over to him, spraying pool water on the walls as she thrust a finger in his face, " we're your best friends, not her! We've been there for you since you fell out of that damn portal, not her! We –"

"Sam!" Tucker shoved his way between them, "that's enough!"

Danny slipped on the water, falling back into the wall with a thud, and grit his teeth as he tried to find his footing again.

"That's enough…" Tucker repeated, and his glare could boil water as he looked between them. "Sam, Danny's not the only one here who's drunk. You need to cool off. Before you say something you'll regret."

It was only now that Danny noticed the way Sam swayed, leaning just a bit too much on the countertop for his liking, and despite the ferocity of his anger, the betrayal of concern chased some of it away.

He looked away.

"You guys don't have tracking equipment." He cracked, and after a few seconds of silence, he finally looked up at them. He sighed. "Skulker's involved in this somehow, and I need to find him, and you guys don't have tracking equipment. That's why I need Valerie."

"...is that where you've been disappearing for the last few months?" Tucker questioned, "to look for Skulker?"

Silently, Danny nodded, trying desperately to keep his jaw from clenching.

"Well then why didn't you jus' say that?" Sam snapped.

Danny could do nothing but stare, and thankfully a knock on the door was deemed his savior. No one moved, though. Long enough that a second knock followed them.

"...right." Sam sighed, pushing off the sink with a wobble, "... workin' on it."

The door swung open to reveal Valerie on the other side. Danny stiffened, expecting Sam to say something, but she simply walked by without a glance.

Tucker shot an apprehensive look at him before following in her footsteps, offering a quiet "hi" as he passed.

"You dry off fast." Val commented, as if it were supposed to be a joke. It didn't quite land, though. Not for either of them.

Danny's hand crept to the back of his neck as he stared at the soaked floor. He gulped.

The casualty that was Dash Baxter had passed, and now it was Danny's turn in the line of fire.

Valerie jutted her head towards the hallway. "Let's walk."

Danny figured he truly had no choice.

Sam and Astrid were conversing at the bottom of the staircase as they exited. Danny made a show of placing himself between them and Val as they passed.

The air wasn't as cold as the pool. His core didn't find it as appealing anymore as they stepped onto the sidewalk out front.

The fireworks were dwindling, their smoke was blocking the stars. Danny stared at the sky, anyway.

He figured, since she wasn't shooting at him, that Val hadn't heard much of his drunken ramblings. That didn't make the fact that he'd had drunken ramblings any more justifiable.

Well, at least he didn't puke.

"What is going on with you?" Val demanded, though it had none of the fire Danny normally associated with her. It was rather quiet, almost pleading, and he turned to find her arms crossed over her chest, staring at him with her gem eyes full of…something hurt.

"I'm drunk." Danny admitted, "I'm sorry."

"Were you drunk when you asked me to come to this thing?"

"What?" Danny cracked, "Wh-why would you think that?"

With a visible hesitation, Val's gaze fell to the sidewalk. She tucked a curl behind her ear. "Danny…" She shook her head, scuffing some snow with her boot, and he couldn't help but walk over to her.

"Val, I –"

"No, just – let me say this." She sighed, chewed on her lip. "I…I like you, Danny. I really do. But…you make it hard. And you know, if you don't like me, if I'm…I don't know, if I'm reading the signs wrong, that's fine. But you can't just string me along like this. So whatever it is – whatever this is – I need you to clarify it. Because I can't deal with…"

She trailed off, lips twisting into something sour, and it pulled at Danny's heart strings. He slumped, itching to grab on to her hands, to scream his sins in a way that would make her understand. But all he could say was, "I'm sorry."

He swallowed, shaking his head at the space between them, and continued. "And I – I do like you, Val. I like you a lot. More than I show, and…okay. I'm still a little drunk. And this isn't how this night was supposed to go, like, at all."

"You were being a real ass."

"Yeah," Danny chuckled, cringing, "yeah, I was. I am. " to more than just her.

A huff of laughter left Val – just slightly bitter, but it sounded a bit more like her usual self. "So how was this night supposed to go…?"

Danny's heart sank again. The wind brushed up his spine. He sighed. "It was supposed to make me not look like an ass when I asked you for help."

It was as if the prospect of him needing help was foreign to Val, because she reared back in confusion. "What would you need my help with?"

A small spark of wariness bumped against his core, and Danny chewed on his tongue. He considered his words carefully, "You know the um, the hunter ghost?" He peered at her just in time to see her jaw clench, and he shrugged, "He stole something…of mine. Or he knows the ghost that did. And I need to get it back. But my parents – they don't have any ghost tracking equipment, but I know that you do! I mean, that Axion has some." He stuttered over his words with another cringe, risking a glance at her.

Valerie took a step back, and her arms tightened around her waist. It took a few horrible seconds for her to speak, "...you're right, this does make you seem like an ass."

Danny swallowed, and added some of his own scuff marks to the snow. "I'm sorry."

Valerie's hum was entirely vindicated. And he lowered his head some more.

"...this thing that Sk– the hunter ghost's friend stole from you. It's not replaceable?"

Surprised that she was humoring him at all, Danny could do nothing but nod. Val turned – not quite all the way. Barely a few inches, even, as she considered.

"Okay, then. I'll help you." She resolved.

"You will ?" He blurted.

"This doesn't make you any less of an ass," Val clarified, which, fair, "and I do have one stipulation."

"Anything!" Danny smiled, the relief in his chest chasing away any wariness.

Val swallowed, scratching at her eyebrow. She hesitated, and then nodded to herself. "My – I mean Axion's tracking equipment…has a kind of security measure. Only authorized personnel can activate it. So I'll need to come with you."

"Oh…" Danny croaked, some belated sense of panic sparked in his chest, and he tried to chase it off with a smile, "okay, yeah. That's…"

Going to make this so much harder.

"Great!"

The new year decided to rear its ugly head at two days old, greeting Hiccup and his stowaways with a storm whose every wave threatened to capsize the cargo ship. It was a strange sort of nostalgia. Not a good nostalgia by any means, but nostalgia nonetheless. If there was any indication that they were getting nearer to the Barbaric Archipelago, this small taste of Devastating Winter was it.

It woke them in the wee hours of the morning, nearly tossing them from their sleeping sacks, and did not cease demanding for their attention since.

"It's getting bad out there," Fishlegs observed with a shiver, eyeing the trickles of snow slurry that were finding their way into their hideout.

"It can't last that much longer, can it?" Jazz, who was leaning against a visibly anxious Meatlug, seemed equally worried – if the way she was clutching onto her blanket had anything to say about it.

Thunder cracked, and its roar seemed to be magnified by the cargo crates. Toothless pressed his frills against his head with a worried croon, and Hiccup placed a soothing hand on his head.

"Unless Thor has a hankering for our leftover chocolate, I think we'd better prepare for the worst." Fishlegs admitted, and Hiccup hated to agree.

Indeed, it seemed that Thor would not take an offering of chocolate, as the storm only grew stronger the longer they waited. Strong enough that Hiccup's faith in their hideout began to dwindle. With every wave, it seemed more water was finding its way into the maze of crates, covering the deck in a layer of salt water and snow that forced them to shove their belongings in any storage space they could. The blankets could no longer hold back the howling wind, and it seemed – even with their immense weight – that the ocean was overpowering the crates themselves. Hiccup could feel the small metal ledge he'd perched himself on shifting, losing surface area, and he kept looking at the roof with growing fear.

It didn't help that the sun was far from rising – the only source of light came from the one measly lantern that Jazz had left unpacked.

"Maybe we should try and take shelter in the ship," Fishlegs wavered after a particularly ominous screeching from the crates, "Just until the storm passes."

At any other time, Hiccup would worry about being caught. But considering the circumstances, he merely said, "I agree."

"I think there's a storage closet next to the bathroom," Jazz helpfully supplied, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Not exactly five stars, but –"

A distant crash sent everyone to their feet.

"I think room service is the least of our worries," Hiccup snapped, securing his own belongings, "Everyone out!" He demanded.

Unfortunately, it was at that moment that the ship began another dangerous tilt. A new crashing sound – this one a lot closer – chased them as they bolted for the deck. Hiccup felt his heels just barely cleared the entrance before the thundering reached its peak: the howling wind couldn't diminish the sickening, hollow crack as a stray cargo box crashed on the roof of their hideout, caving it in with a horrible shrieking that had him clamping his hands over his ears.

The force, mixed with the slurry on the deck, caused the surrounding crates to skid out in every direction. Toothless roared, tackling Hiccup a millisecond before one of them was sent careening over the ledge, meeting a watery grave that would have otherwise taken him with it.

The ship leveled back out, seeming to groan in pain all the way. Hiccup let out a shaky breath, scrambling up from the soaked deck and pressing his hand against his dragon's head. "Thanks, Bud." He cracked, trying to ignore the sea water soaking through his clothes. He turned to Fishlegs and Jazz, finding them and Meatlug a few feet away. "Is everyone okay?"

"We're fine – let's go!" Fishlegs snapped, and Hiccup wasn't going to complain.

They bolted for the door to the hull – slipped may be a more accurate term, but that was the least of their worries. They'd only made it about thirty paces before finding that the rest of their route was blocked by other loose crates.

" Shit!" Jazz cursed, and the ship began to tilt under their feet again – this time in the opposite direction.

"Quick," Hiccup rasped, grasping for any purchase he could, "Try and get to the bow!"

"I don't know what that means!" Jazz shrieked, but it was more static than noise from the way the wind whipped through the Fenton Phone.

"The front!" He threw his hand towards the side of the ship, where a narrow strip of deck led, hopefully to another access point indoors, "Get to the front of the ship!"

Again, easier said than done, but at least this time the path wasn't blocked. The wind wasn't much better – Hiccup could feel the threat of frostbite beginning on his fingertips, his nose , and the ocean spray certainly didn't help. With his left hand on the wall to guide him, they stumbled their way up the port side of the cargo ship until they slipped onto another deck. This one was equipped with spotlights: giant, blinding things.

They gave Hiccup a perfect view of the monster wave ahead.

"Oh, Thor." He gulped.

" Brace for imp– Who the hell are you?" someone clad in orange rounded the corner, stopped dead at the bizarre sight in front of them.

And then they were all knocked off their feet.

Immediately Hiccup slammed into something, knocking away whatever air he managed to suck in, but he wasn't particularly concerned by the pain caused by the mystery object as much as he was with wrapping his limbs around it and clinging for dear life. He felt as though he were being flattened by a boulder, or a glacier. Each drop of water felt like a Speed Stinger's strike, and the cold offered the same paralyzing effect.

By the time the water finally dissipated, his skin was too numb to feel anything. Only his innards burned in pain. Hiccup sucked in an impossible breath and blinked the stinging salt out of his eyes, only to shriek when he found that he was staring into a watery abyss.

He rocketed backwards, landing back on the deck. His fingers were so stiff on what he could now identify as the guard rail, that he practically had to break them to release his grip.

Hiccup hissed, clutching his hands to his chest, before suddenly remembering that he wasn't alone. He snapped his twinging neck around, only to find with growing horror that he couldn't see anyone. It felt like icicles were forming in his lungs as he inhaled, and then yelled out, "Toothless! Fishlegs, Jazz!"

He heard Toothless' roar just a bit to his left, back towards the stern, and he swiveled to find his dragon scrambling back over the edge of the guard rail. The night fury shook water from his scales, slightly perturbed by the weight of the waves but otherwise undisturbed. Relief rammed into Hiccup's gut just about as fast as Toothless did, but it was fleeting. He couldn't see Fishlegs, Jazz, or Meatlug anywhere.

Hopping onto his saddle, he called for them again, trying to will his shivering down enough to clip his prosthetic into place.

Hiccup and Toothless lept from the deck just as it began to tilt under them again, launching into the wind that, admittedly, wasn't that much better. Hiccup had all but given up the idea of hearing their companions over the gale, so he pressed a hand on Toothless' head.

"Can you find them, Bud?" He practically screamed. He saw his dragon warble, but couldn't catch any of it.

His fingers could barely feel the saddle as they flanked the cargo ship – an entirely impossible task considering how dark it was – and with every growing second, Hiccup's fear grew.

Despite the effort he took in pushing it down, the words kept bubbling in his mind: they were going to die here, 1000 years in the future, in the middle of the ocean. No one would know, and it would be all Hiccup's fault –

An explosion near the back of the ship caught their attention, and Toothless immediately zeroed in on it. Hiccup squinted through the snow as a second one went up, and his heart soared – Meatlug's distress signal.

Hiccup and Toothless found the rest of their group hanging over the ledge of the cruise ship about fifty feet back – a deadly drop below them and quickly failing to cling to the ledges. It seemed that the only thing keeping them up was a stray rope – it wrapped possessively around one of Meatlug's hind legs, leaving her dangling while Fishlegs was trying desperately to cut it loose.

"Hiccup!" Jazz yelled over the wind, apparently having spotted them. She obviously tried to point at something, but her hands slipped from the purchase she had: sandwiched between a porthole and Meatlug's back.

"Hold on!" Hiccup cried back. He wanted desperately for everything to stop , to let him assess the situation, to form a plan – any plan – but as it was the snow was barely letting him keep his eyes open. A curse flew past his lips as Jazz slipped again – she was visibly shivering. They all were. Hiccup hadn't exactly spent the time to inspect himself, but if the ice that was now coating Fishlegs and Jazz's clothes were anything to say, he doubted he looked much better.

He just had to pray that Toothless' tail wouldn't freeze in place.

"Fishlegs!" He yelled, somehow drawing his attention over the wind. Hiccup didn't expect to get anything other than his name across, but it seemed he didn't need to. With a nod, Fishlegs latched onto Jazz with one large hand and hauled her onto Meatlug. She was still trying to say something , but the wind kept devouring it and, frankly, Hiccup felt it could wait.

Toothless sent a plasma blast towards the rope, snapping it immediately, and then dove after Meatlug in case she lost either of her riders as she took to the air.

And she did, just not either of the ones Hiccup was expecting. It only took him a split second to recognize the orange that fell from her talons – the sailor that had interrupted them mere seconds before the wave hit. It seemed that was the thing Jazz was so desperate to draw attention to.

Hiccup was shifting Toothless' tailfin before he could think about the repercussions. The wind whistled in their ears as they dove, and the force of Toothless' wings sprayed water all around them as they snagged the sailor by his boot – the distance between them and the oncoming wave could split hairs as they jacknived, clearing the crest in what felt like milliseconds.

Once they leveled back out, Hiccup peered below, half-expecting to see their rescue dangling with a snapped spine. He was certainly going to have whiplash from that maneuver. At the sight of a conscious – screaming his head off, but conscious – sailor, he sighed.

"Good job, Bud." He patted Toothless on the head. His dragon warbled in a way that said "of course I did a good job, I'm a Night Fury", and not for the first time, Hiccup had to agree.

Meatlug – Fishlegs and Jazz safely on her back – joined them as they banked back towards the cargo ship. It seemed the wind decided to die down just enough for Fishlegs' words to finally come through. "So much for our cover…"

"We'll fall back and trail the ship until things have calmed down!" Hiccup called, pointing to the stern of the ship, "meet us there!"

Fishlegs nodded, and Toothless dove to the deck. They deposited the sailor where they'd originally encountered him – spotted by a few of his crewmates, but only as a black mass that vanished as soon as it appeared.

Jazz and Fishlegs had already pulled out their blankets by the time Hiccup and Toothless joined them. They were a few hundred yards back from the cargo ship. Far enough out of reach of the spotlights, all of which were now blaring into the night.

It took a lot of effort for Hiccup to pry his fingers from the saddle. It took even more effort for him to open his bag and pull out his own blanket – wet, of course, but it was a better windbreak than nothing . He raised his fingers to study them, and found that the nails were beginning to blacken.

This isn't going to work , he despaired, watching as the deck flooded with sailors – undoubtedly scouring for any further stowaways. If they didn't get somewhere warm now , they were going to freeze to death before they had the chance to sneak back on.

Despite the inky black of the horizon, Hiccup peered into the dark. Of course, he found nothing, but he couldn't afford to find nothing. Hastily, he tapped an aching hand against Toothless' shoulder. "Higher, Bud." He rasped, finding that he could no longer stop the shivering. He knew that was a dangerous bet – but if he could handle the chill for just a bit longer, maybe he could spot…he didn't know what, a different boat, maybe? He'd take anything dry at this point – sleep was starting to pull at the back of his mind, and it began to terrify him.

"Hiccup!" He heard Fishlegs' worried call, and he managed to wave him off. Toothless warbled in a worry of his own, but obeyed, leveling out a few leagues higher.

Hiccup could see nothing. No lights, no stars – just…nothing. Something lodged in his throat.

It seemed like hours passed as he weighed his options, watching the cargo ship weave through the storm. Was it worth it? Surrendering to the crew? Was it worth getting arrested just to ward off hypothermia? Would they even attempt to get them medical attention if they did that? And even worse, what about Toothless and Meatlug? That one sailor, even if they hadn't rescued him, had certainly seen them. It wouldn't be much of a stretch to figure them out – even in their disguises. They'd be dragged to this elusive Guys in White headquarters the instant they hit land if they failed to escape. Could he really risk doing that?

Hiccup glanced at his fingers again. Then down to Fishlegs and Jazz, whose lips were blue and whose skin were white as ghost's (and he could say that with conviction now).

Yes, he decided. Yes he could.

"Okay." He cracked to himself, turning back to the cargo ship in front of them. He tried to suck in a composing breath, but the air was too sharp in his lungs, "Okay, B-Bud. Let's g-get back t-to…"

But it seemed his dragon, someone who had a built-in furnace he might add, did not like that notion. Toothless pulled back at his command, roared into the night. He waited.

And then roared again, and waited some more.

"Toothless…" Hiccup began, fully aware of what he was trying to do. He would have been touched, had the weariness not begun feeling like weights on his eyelids, "I d-don't think there's a-anything –"

His dragon suddenly dipped to the left, causing an exclamation out of Hiccup as he beelined towards the horizon.

Hiccup heard the others calling his name, but he could no longer stop the shivering long enough to turn around – yet alone force Toothless to. Which meant that he was left begging, trying desperately to keep his dragon's tailfin in-line so that they weren't sent plummeting to their watery graves.

Toothless roared again, and this time his frills twitched in response. His wings pumped faster at whatever he heard.

Hiccup straightened – squinted into the slowing snow, sent a prayer to whichever god was watching them.

And it seemed that it was answered. There, on the horizon, something was rising from the sea.

Despite the fact that he couldn't feel…well, anything , he laughed. Laughed . They wouldn't have to surrender.

"Land!" He cried, and then realized, just a bit too late, that he wasn't sure if Fishlegs and Jazz were following him. That oversight terrified him for a split second, but to his relief he found them close on their tail. "Land!" He cried out again – significant land , too. Not a rock spire (though he still wouldn't have complained if it was), but an island . Sure, they didn't know if there were any other islands nearby, but that was a problem for another time.

He saw Fishlegs' eyes brighten as the silhouette came into focus – as trees started peeling from the fog. " Land!" he cried like it was the most beautiful word that he'd ever heard. Another chattering laugh left Hiccup as he whirled back around. The snow gathering in his eyelashes wasn't quite as annoying anymore.

They wasted no time darting for the nearest windbreak they could find – a cliff face just bordering on the forest. A ravine covered by significant shrubbery could have been a king-sized bed to Hiccup as they cleared the snow and began a fire.

Even with dragons at their backs and a fire blazing between them, a chill still remained. Probably on account of their wet clothes, but considering everything they'd brought was drenched, they didn't exactly have something dry to change into. They compromised by huddling together – Fishlegs managed to boil some snow down — no tea leaves, but Hiccup would have drinken the water boiling if he could. They picked a few rocks and threw them into the pot, heating them until ice refused to form on them when they lifted them from the water. They bundled them in cloth, and pressed them to their chests. It hurt , clutching onto something hot after so long, but Hiccup relished in it. At least he wasn't going to lose another limb.

Toothless kept slapping him every time he dozed off, which Hiccup was sure he'd appreciate when he didn't wake up in Valhalla, but as it stood right now, it just made his cheek sting.

"I… hate sailing." Hiccup grumbled after the sixth slap to the cheek. Toothless warbled in agreement.

Jazz muttered something – now that they were no longer staring down death, Hiccup had come to realize that his inability to understand her wasn't because of the wind, but because the Fenton Phones had become soaked . They were currently sitting near the fire with the rest of their belongings, leaving only Fishlegs and his rudimentary understanding of English as their translator.

As it stood, though, Fishlegs was currently buried in his maps. They were wrinkled, but mostly dry, legible enough. Maybe they should have invested in laminating them after all.

Maybe he should have just sucked up his pride and taken a plane, but it was a bit too late to wallow about that now. They were alive.

For the third time in as many seconds, Fishlegs glanced up to the sky again, where the stars were now peeking out from behind the clouds – dimmed with the promise of sunrise, but still legible. Something in his expression made Hiccup sit up.

"Fishlegs?" He questioned, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, though, Fishlegs stood, blanket falling from his shoulders as he spun, clutching the map so tightly in his hands that it crinkled.

"Fishlegs?" Jazz asked, and she and Hiccup shared a wary look.

Apparently unwarranted wariness, however, because soon their friend was beaming down at them, the stars reflecting like mist in his eyes. "I know where we are," He cracked, frost billowing from his mouth, "We're home. We're in the archipelago."

"Yes, you're mentally ill. Yes, you're weird. But you're also cuntyyyyy...you're also extremely cuntyyy..." - user "isaac.h. .backup" on tiktok

Until next time, my lovelies

~Local Dragon Haunt