I'm dead

I'm fucking dead

Gone

Bye bye

Muttered Snotlout under his breath as he walked down the familiar path that leads to his family home. He walks in an awkward nervous hunch that if he was not so panicked he would feel the strain in his spine at the unusual posture. He clinches and unclenches his hands and occasionally brings them up to his mouth and bites at his nails, a nervous habit that when in a better state of mind can deter but currently it is the last thing in his mind, the foremost being that he need to get home fucking yesterday.

—

Snotlout was just hanging out with the gang in the med hall, having fun. Jokes were being thrown around, banter being passed around. He even got Tuffnut to give him his extra chicken leg, through answering a stupid ass riddle. Why a riddle, Snotlout has not a clue and it ended with Tuffnut making a fool out of him and claiming "he was not worthy of the worth of this leg of chicken" or some stupid shit, he can't remember but when everyone had moved on, even Snotlout left to pout over the lost chicken picking at what was left on the bone of his own, Tuffnut discreetly pushed the plate towards Snotlout.

Snotlout was shocked at the out of character display, but not one to look a gift dragon in the face quickly snatches it and starts Gnawing away. Halfway through the chicken he glances over at Tuffnut who is currently fighting off his sister who Snotlout can only assume is trying to choke Tuffnut out for some reason but somehow is being avoided by a cheeky hand to the face. He watches this with an amused smile on his lips occasionally laughing at the obscenities being thrown between the two.

Once they are done with that scuffle Snotlout, looks down at the chicken he's still gnawing on, then back at Tuffnut who is chuckling at something Hiccup said, probably making fun of him for being a nerd or something. 'I should thank him' Snotlout thinks for a moment his pride is going to deny that wanting to stay quiet and claim victory over the surrendered chicken leg but he finds that he wants to say thank you oddly.

He feels a tight feeling in his chest at this delema, his mind going back and forth but without even thinking his mind comes to an agreement and his foot gently taps Tuffnut trying to convey his thanks without having to actually say thank you to the other boy. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Tuffnut face scrunch up in confusion and watches as he glances down at his own foot and sees snotlout's foot tapping his own, and his eyes tail up till he's looking at snotlout fully. Snotlout starred back, taking an embarrassingly long time to realize Tuffnuts waiting for him to say something before he nudged his head in the direction of the chicken gifted to him that rests in his hands above his plate, he then looks back at Tuffnut and smiles what he hope looks not that awkward. Silently begging that Tuffnut gets what he's trying to say. And thankfully he does, the Taller thinner boys face spitting into a smile and he winks in Snotlout direction before going back to harassing Hiccup or Fishlegs.

Snotlout's brain for once satisfied with this encounter goes to take another bite of the gifted chicken but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder, Snotlout turns to see who interrupted him and is surprised to see his neighbor Harald, a kind man, he is known for his large beard and his even larger helmet which are fitted with some impressively large antlers that make it hard for him to fit through doorways properly.

Snotlout is not given time to ask what the man might need, already more than willing to help him out, as he's helped his family out quite a bit over the years, when the man tells him

"Yer father is looking for yeh, you should find yer way back home before he arives,"

he warns with a concerned voice and an even more concerned look on his face, before he hobbles off that concerned look never leaving his face.

At this warning any good mood Snotlout was in has plummeted all the way down to the floor, his face doing much the same shifting into a look that can be best described as terror, as an icy cold chill replaces that good mood within his body. Snotlout wastes no time in dropping the almost finished chicken on his plate, and climbs from the bench to leave quickly, throwing a "I have to go" over his shoulder, not bothering to look at his friends as he leaves to hopefully beat his father home, to prepare for what his father might be looking for him for.

Snotlout does not look back, so he does not see the concerned faces that pass through the group left behind watching as snotlout makes long strides out of the med hall, the door making an echoing boom through the hall going unnoticed by the crowds of people who are laughing and eating with their groups, the only table that is silent being the table left by Snotlout, all eyes glancing from the door, to the spot left behind, then to each other's. Worry written all over their faces.

As they all know spitelout means bad news.

This time though it seems more prevalent than before…

—-

The hustle and bustle of the village goes unnoticed by snotlout, people and dragons being filtered out of his mind making it seem like it was just him and him alone on this path alone, the sun setting in the distance and the chill which it caused also going unnoticed due to him being too focused on what his brain has decided as what was his death March.

Well more like a walk jog March thing.

He chews on his nails and knuckles nervously, not caring at the ache that spreads through the delicate nerves that lay beneath the nails and the sting that spread through his chewed knuckles, only really caring when he notices that he's doing it rather then the pain, remembering what his father has told him about any desolate of weakness or nervousness, this being a big one.

It's hard to forget, when his father gave up on scolding him verbally and decided that he needed something different to remind him.

So each time he caught himself he would bring his hands back down and clench them hard at his sides but as his mind would wonder at his fear of his father and what awaits him, his hands would slowly drift back up and back to chewing he would go, not caring at the smallest amount of blood that was now slipping through the newly open skin beneath his shortened nails.

When he sees his house that chill in his body somehow becomes worse, and he begins to feel nauseous, his mind blanking and racing all at once at the sight, he almost comes to a halt, feeling like an invisible wall is trying to push him away, to run, to get away. But he pushes forward, whatever he fucked up with to get his father to look for him he can't fuck somthing as simple as this up. But even with this in mind he finds he moves forward at a slow pace. He want to pick up speed but he can't, and he finds that he's hyper aware of each step he takes towards the house, each step he can feel how his foot falls against the ground, how his skin rubs against the inside of the fabrics on his boot, he can feel how his toes push against the tip of the boot to push it forward with his feet seemingly having a mind of their own, he's so hyper aware of his step. he only realizes how close he is to the door when he is right in front of it.

He hesitates, staring at the handle of the door for a long moment, his body frozen, but his mind is racing. Racing with contradicting thoughts of comfort and doom, comfort of this all will be ok, that it's nothing, that he's overthinking this. That his father just wants him to run an errand or something. the other half is however claiming that he's fucked, he's so fucked, That this is his fault, that whatever his father is about to say..about to do. His father is right, his father is always right, why else would he be doing this, he's trying to make him the best, to make him a real Jorgenson. he's doing this for a reason. Honestly he should be grateful his father is even doing it for snotlout, putting in the energy to make snotlout better, stronger, more resilient, rather than letting him waste away.

The other half is worried that it's gonna get worse, that this is the equivalent to the end of the world for him, that he needs to run. He needs to run back to that hall, and hide, beg his friends to hide him no matter how embarrassing that is and how it will ruin his entire reputation his father has put so much time into. His brain is telling him to find hookfang, jump on him and ride, just ride somewhere far from here, wait his dads anger out. Maybe he'll forget that he needs snotlout, maybe he'll realize he never really needs to talk to him. Ever. Again.

Snotlout realizes he's been staring at his door for a lot longer than he should, he scrunches his face a little then blinks a couple times trying to refocus. then takes a deep breath trying to chill out for a moment he's fine, everything's fine

At that thought he comes back from his mind, his face scrunching up a little then blinking a couple times to refocus on the task at hand. Opening this door.

Come on.

Open the door Snotlout.

Any second now.

A sigh escapes his lungs and he kicks the door, damn it. He turns away from the door and crosses his arms foot tapping repetitively against the ground. He glares daggers into the grass below. 'He really wants leave, like really does. He'd rather be in any other place then here,' but he knows, he knows it will be worse if he doesn't show up, if he's late then it's bad but doesn't show up. He did that once. He has no idea how his father found him, but he did. And he's never letting that happen again, and it's quite easy. Just show up because…

I'm a way he's right

it can get worse

And to make sure it doesn't get worse it's simple. Show. Up. It doesn't matter how far, or what he's doing, if there's word from his father either by word of mouth, by letter, or by himself, Snotlout shows up.

But why can't he turn around? It's such a simple task but…it's so..scary.

He feels his eyes begin to burn as filtrated tears fill his eyes but jorgonsons don't cry, he can't cry. He can't.

His brain keeps on racing with what ifs and need to run but suddenly it stops and he remebers.

'the other option is scarier, because he KNOWS what will happen'

So slowly snotlout looks up, but when his eyes unlock from there death stare at the grass and lock onto a boot they go wide and his pupils shrink. He freezes, frazzled eyes immediately locking back down to the grass as if to pretend he did not see those boots he knows so well, the boots that he's sewed up a couple times, the boots he sees in his house everyday, those same boots that have caused bruises in his side. But the sharp inhale of breath breaks any sliver of cover he might have had. But..

But he needs to look up, and now. However his eyes stay locked in the grass unable to look up, he needs to look up now. His dad is right there. But they won't they won't look up, his dad is gonna be so angry he can't do this today, today was such a good day, Hookfang was so good today, and Tuffnut even gave him his extr-

"Look up now boy."

He looks up, he only looks up at his father, his shaking still obviously evident and fear still in his eyes but his boy is locked up in as much effort to look strong, big, fearless. Everything his father wants him to be. But it's so clear that there are cracks, and they are crumbling fast.

"You aren't running away boy?"

The larger man's face scrunched up slightly and that's when Snotlout noticed he most likely drank too much at the hall, but then he realized the heavy, heavy, accusation just said by his father.

"Are Yeh?"

Snotlout could genuinely feel the metaphorical cracks, snap, and he frantically denied that accusation, that controlled fear being ripped from the tight reign he had on that beast of a feeling. But even through that frantic state he could see his fathers face darken and those cracks of fear snap back into place, and he quickly fixed himself before responding

"no, No. I was just checking where you were ... .as I was waiting at the dining table for quite a bit, and I was just wondering. When. You..would..be back?."

He says in explanation to his father the lie slipping through his lips, hoping to the gods that he was too drunk to pick up on that lie.

And it seems they answered, as his fathers glare, if you could even call it softened, just the smallest bit and he grunts out,

"We need to work on that patience boy, now get inside, I need to speak to yeh about a job I need yeh to do"

As his father walks past him into the house, Snotlout's whole body deflated in relief, so much that he feels an ache where he was most tense like his shoulders, It seems Snotlout dodged an arrow there, it's just a job he needs him to do, probably a very very difficult job that he's gonna be judged on severely but just a job nonetheless, maybe if he does well his father might actually-

"You coming or not, Snotlout."

His body scrunches up and he quickly follows in after his father, a confirmation leaving his mouth, he has to force in an apology, as that would most likely cause his fathers tiny fuse to surly light. He just needs to be perfect today and it will all be ok. It's gonna be ok.