How to Train Your Dragon 1. Chapter 1

What was worse than being stuck in a hospital because your intestines thought this would be a great time to try and commit suicide, resulting in spending hours spent on the toilet whilst you shit your brains out, doubled over and sobbing and feverishly wishing you had never been born?

Having it happen on Christmas.

It was just Hiccup's luck that his bowels had picked the week of Christmas to flare up to the point where his parents had had no choice but to rush him to the hospital. This was nothing new though; anymore, because of his disease, he spent more time at the hospital than at home. He just hoped that his string of good days would last through the holidays so he could actually spend some time in the warmth and comfort of his childhood home with his parents. Guess that was too much to hope for.

Instead, Hiccup was currently spending the aftermath of the war his body was waging against itself on the porcelain throne, bent over so that his forehead almost touched his knees and his arms wrapped themselves around his belly. A cold sweat exploded over his skin, soaking every inch of him and making him shiver despite the uncomfortable furnace radiating from his core. Despite his best efforts, despite the fact that he was in fact legally an adult, he was sobbing like a child, tears dripping onto his bare legs. He couldn't help it; the pain was crushing him under its weight, and he wanted nothing more than his mom and dad to be there with him. But they had already gone home for the evening and told him they would be back bright and early the next morning. He could still remember his dad's huge hand smoothing over his hair with unbearable tenderness, soothing him into a sleep which he had been craving all day because he had been so tired….

But he hadn't wanted to say anything, no matter how much he wanted to beg them to stay the night. It was Christmas, and it was bad enough that his parents had been forced to spend it in the hospital with their sick son.

Hiccup stood up, intestines burning and stomach roiling like a thunderhead, and nearly collapsed. His legs felt like burnt matchsticks; brittle and frail. His thighs trembled and ached with the effort of holding him up as he washed his hands and flushed, ignoring the familiar sight of watery stool accompanied by blood. It wasn't until then that the awful smell hit him, along with the metallic sting of blood, and his trembling stomach proceeded to turn itself inside out. Hiccup had barely enough time to dive at the toilet with a hand over his mouth, before the other end of his body decided it wanted to evacuate everything that was inside it too.

However, he refused to call the nurses. He didn't want their help, didn't want their pity. He didn't want them to know how awful he felt. Any chance he got to hide his disease, he did. Hiccup was quite proud and stubborn, and his pride was often bruised by the fact that sometimes he couldn't make it to the bathroom in time and ended up shitting all over himself. He hated it. _Hated_ it. When his parents were there, they were the only ones allowed to help him unless it was an emergency, and they weren't there right now.

Well, they were allowed, and one other person was too. Too bad she was already most likely asleep.

The bloody chunks of his dinner greeted him once more (great, more blood that his body couldn't spare). They burned up his throat, while some of it opted to dribble down his chin and neck, and Hiccup wished more than anything that his heart would just give out from the strain. He had been practically living in the hospital for the last ten years more than his own home. Ten years of dealing with the unimaginable pain, the cruel bullying at school, and the complete loss of his dignity with no end in sight. He wanted death. He _begged_ for death in between the shooting pains that sought to tear him apart.

And then suddenly, he heard the bathroom door creak open, but felt far too weak to lift his forehead from the rim of the toilet seat to see who it was. Whoever was coming in might as well see it all anyway, seeing as he already a disgusting mess. He could imagine how he appeared at that moment: a young man kneeling on the floor and praising the porcelain gods, his legs splayed underneath him while his hospital gown had ridden up around his middle, exposing his naked bottom half. A sympathetic gasp followed by the patter of stocking covered feet came from the doorway a moment later, and then caught a familiar smell of berries sneaking through a pool of antiseptic. He rolled his head over, still unable to lift it, and even though his vision was extremely blurry, he knew who it was immediately.

"Astrid?"

She was kneeling beside him, stroking back his damp, sweaty hair with one hand while the other rested on his shoulder. Hiccup was gripped by an attack of shivers just then, his teeth chattering loudly.

"W-What are you d-d-doing here?" he stuttered. "It's f-four in the m-morning."

"I know," she said.

"The cancer ward is two floors above this one."

"I know."

She pushed her short, blond hair back with one hand so that she could see him better. "You think you're done puking?"

Hiccup had stopped shivering, but his insides were still quivering unsteadily. Still, he felt so empty, and his insides were burning so badly and in such a way that signaled that he was indeed done ejecting everything inside him. He nodded, eyes closing wearily.

Then Astrid was gone from his side, returning a moment later with a wet paper towel. Hiccup felt the cool wetness washing over his face as she wiped him down. She tenderly washed his forehead, his cheeks, even his eyelids, anywhere his skin shone with sweat. She ran the paper towel over his temples and up into his hair, cooling his heated scalp. Last came his paper dry lips, chin, and neck, and Hiccup couldn't hold back a moan of gratitude as she washed the drying and sticky vomit away.

And then she had taken another paper towel that had been rinsed under warm water, and gently cleaned his crotch, bottom, and thighs. At the moment, he felt too sick to be embarrassed, and he wouldn't have been able to stop her anyway. She probably would have snapped at him that she wanted to do it, that she didn't care about the mess and just wanted to take care of him when it was clear he couldn't take care of himself.

"Let's get you back to bed, alright?" Astrid draped one of his arms over her shoulders, and hefted his limp body upright. Hiccup could hear her grunting with the strain, and thought she muttered something about how freaking heavy he was, but still dragged him out of the bathroom all the same.

Before he knew it, he was in bed, but unfortunately also still in a tremendous amount of pain. His gut still felt as if was continuously roasting over an open flame, and when he wrapped his arms around it again, he found that it had become hard and bloated. Hiccup curled in on himself helplessly, drawing his knees up to his chest and letting out a long, low whine.

"Oh Hiccup," he heard Astrid breathe, and then felt the bed dip with her weight as she laid down next to him.

He immediately rolled over and buried his face in her chest, feeling the tears start up again. His breath hitched and his shoulders shook, and Astrid wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer to her. She placed her head atop of his, shushing him.

"It's bad tonight, Astrid," he gasped, "I can't get comfortable. And I'm so tired, I just want to sleep."

She buried her nose into his hair and mumbled, "Yeah, I couldn't sleep either last night because I felt so sick. I had another chemo session that morning. On Christmas Eve. Stupid hospital has shitty timing."

The two of them just laid there for a while, Astrid talking him through his pain and trying to take his mind off it by telling him how her Christmas went. Hiccup didn't really listen, but instead focused on the rhythm of her voice, feeling it vibrate in her chest against his cheek and letting it ground him through the pain. She kept him close and rubbed a gentle hand back and forth over his stomach, and Hiccup found the repetition of the movement more calming than anything.

More than anyone, when his parents were gone, Astrid always seemed to know what he needed. He had met her a year ago when she had been transferred to this hospital for better treatment for her cancer. They didn't warm up to each other at first, but one day he had felt terribly sick like this and no one was around to help him. That had been when Astrid had found him and called a nurse. From that day on, they had been inseparable, and the girl seemed to feel it was her personal duty to protect Hiccup. But Hiccup couldn't really talk; he felt a similar duty towards her.

She understood everything. She understood his fierce pride and stubbornness because those same qualities were present in her, except even more so. She understood the want to be independent and utter, agonizing frustration of not being able to be. She understood his bouts of anger, depression and the terrible pain that was the source of it all.

She also learned that no matter how much he pushed people away sometimes, he was really terrified of being alone. And he felt a surge of love so strong towards her for that, that it pushed the pain out of the way with the force of a hurricane.

So here she was, curled about him like a second skin and giving him a reason to live another day.

It was a long time, long enough that the sun had begun to appear in its earliest form in the morning sky, before his stomach and bowels began to calm. They seemed to cool, settle, and stop their nauseous twisting, as if trying to reshape themselves and revolt against their given nature. Hiccup uncurled from his tight ball and began to relax, his muscles going soft and his breaths becoming even. Astrid sensed the change and kissed his forehead. Hiccup breathed in her scent and let it smooth his rattled, overtaxed nerves. Her scent meant safety, a haven in a boiling, endless sea of agony and fear.

It was love in the far reaching, dark face of death.

"Pain going away?" she asked, and he nodded once.

She looked down, or at least Hiccup thought she did. His eyes were beginning to droop under the crushing weight of fatigue. Now that the pain was fading, his exhaustion had begun to reassert itself in earnest. It had been a busy day, and he was already so weak and tired all the time, and then the pain liked to keep him from sleeping at night or taking naps during the day…

"Go to sleep then," Astrid told him, "I'll stay with you just in case."

"Thank you," Hiccup murmured, and he really did mean it from the bottom of his heart.

As he fell into sleep, he could have sworn he heard her say those three, precious little words that he still didn't have to courage to say to her, but perhaps his optimistic brain was hearing things. It didn't matter, because that night, with her scent in his nose and her warm body shielding him from the demons Pain and Death, his subconscious formed a soft, tender dream. It was unlike anything he remembered dreaming in a long time. He was with Astrid, and her hair was long, the color high in her full face. There was no pain in his body, and they were flying in the sky, leaving all of their earthly problems behind.

They were free.

**A/N: No idea where this spawned from. Btw, Hiccup has Crohn's disease in this and Astrid has brain cancer, in case anyone is curious. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just something that happened the morning after. **

The nurses in the cancer ward were having a problem.

It was nine o'clock, and every morning at nine o'clock they headed down to this floor to offer their patients breakfast. However, this was very difficult to do when the patient you were supposed to be offering breakfast to was not present.

One of the nurses, Bridget, stared at Astrid Hofferson's empty bed, sighing irritably. Why. Just why. She really did not want to deal with this right now. Of all the patients to go missing, why did it have to be one Bridget really didn't care to look for? The Hofferson girl was such a pain in the ass; she was hard-headed, hated it when Bridget or any of the other nurses tried to be nice to her, combative, not to mention she liked to swear a _lot_. And now she had to add pulling a Houdini while under Bridget's watch. Seriously, she had been in bed at one in the morning when the nurse had swung around, and now her bed was several hours cold with the sheets tossed aside. This was the cancer ward, not the psych ward. She really shouldn't have to be worrying about this.

One of her fellow nurses trotted up beside her, taking in the vacant bed as well. "Should we look at the security cameras? Figure out where she went?"

Bridget shook her head and didn't look at her. "Not yet. Didn't someone say she has a good friend who's a regular in the ICU? We could check there."

Her friend nodded, and a smile slowly crossed her face. "Oh yeah," she said cheerfully, "Hiccup, that cute young man who has Crohn's." She leaned in conspiratorially, "He's got a nice butt."

Bridget rolled her eyes and began to head out the room, her friend trotting at her heels, saying defensively, "Well he does! You're just jealous 'cause you weren't there when they were deciding who got to give him a sponge bath."

"He's a _kid_."

"Nuh uh, he's eighteen, he's legal!"

"Oh Jesus," Bridget breathed as she grabbed the nurse by her ear and dragged her down the hallway, "Let's just find Astrid. Put your tongue back in your mouth, it's dragging on the floor."

000

The ICU was on the ground floor, which meant they had to ride down in an elevator for two floors with a guy who breathed unnecessarily loudly and smelled like piss. It was just another reason to hate this job. Bridget hated that she had to be a nurse because it was the only job where they were hiring regularly. And to top it off, as a rule, she hated people, preferring the company of her dogs immensely. But she did love being able to pay her bills. So here she was, doing her job when she'd much rather jump off a bridge and end it all.

Once they reached the recovery room they knew the boy was being kept in, Bridget opened the door without hesitation, wanting to get this over with. The room was still dark, the blinds pulled with the morning light slanting through the slates. It was also completely quiet. And once her gaze landed on the solitary bed in the room, she saw why.

Well, there was her runaway, curled under the blankets and snuggled up tightly to Hiccup. From where she was standing, Astrid's back was to her, and she saw that Hiccup's hands were laying limp across her back in an embrace. Their soft snores filled the room, white blankets rising and falling as they breathed.

Bridget circled around to get a better look and approached the side of the bed, her friend standing beside her awkwardly and glancing worriedly between her and the patients. But Bridget forgot she was in the room for a minute.

Astrid was a spitfire, much like Bridget herself, and that was probably the reason they hated each other so much. But here, in the tranquility of the room, the girl's sleeping face was soft. She looked very young and very different. She was holding Hiccup close by his waist and upper back, her head laying partly atop his while his face had buried itself in her chest. She had practically covered his body with hers, and the position was so _protective_, as if she had stated out loud, "I have cancer, but if you touch my precious boy I'll kill you."

Bridget frowned. In that moment, she didn't hate Astrid; she was jealous of her.

She wished she could love someone like that.

Astrid must have felt her eyes on her, because she blinked awake and lifted her head from the pillow, eyes narrowing suspiciously when she saw the nurses and pulling Hiccup closer. The boy in turn murmured something unintelligible and then continued snoring without missing a beat.

"Ummm, Astrid"- Bridget's friend began nervously.

"Shh!" Astrid hissed, cutting her off, "I know I need to go back. Now hush, you'll wake him up."

Astrid glanced down at the boy's face, and her eyes and mouth softened when she saw that he was still peacefully asleep. She looked back up that nurses and the fire returned to her eyes once more.

"He had a bad spell last night," she explained curtly, "It kept him up a long time and he's exhausted. So don't"-

"It's alright," the other nurse said, "We'll let him sleep as long as he needs."

Bridget felt a smirk pull at her lips as she observed, "He's very important to you, isn't he?"

Astrid huffed through her nose like a bull ready to charge, but then her face went soft again and she looked back down at Hiccup.

"Yes," she admitted quietly.

"You…are you in love with him by any chance?"

Astrid snorted, "What difference does it make to you?"

"Well, it might mean next time you sneak into his room I might overlook it."

Astrid's eyes met hers right then, and something shifted in them the exact moment something shifted in Bridget's chest. Something fell away, a weight that had always been there but she had never noticed before until it was gone. It was something that said that people weren't all bad and here was proof. As if to add to this, Hiccup shifted in Astrid's arms some more, his body seeking a more comfortable position and not finding it, sighing in discomfort all the while he did it. When his eyebrows drew together, the girl shushed him and he quieted, the creases in his face smoothing out once more.

Love was still a presence and the world wasn't a total shit-heap.

"…Yes," Astrid finally replied quietly, "My parents don't think I'm worth a flying fuck, so he's all I care about."

Her eyes hardened into blue steel. "Let me tell you something. My cancer is too advanced for there to be any hope of a cure for me. He's the only reason I don't just off myself. Knowing that Hiccup needs me gets me out of bed every morning. It makes all the chemo worth it. It makes being in pain and feeling like shit every day worth it. He keeps me alive and he keeps me fighting."

No one knew what to say to that. Stunned silence rang in everyone's ears until Bridget's friend broke it.

"Well, we'll take you to have some breakfast and rest a little bit, and then perhaps you can come back later."

Astrid glared at her. "I _am_ coming back later. I don't want him to be alone."

"He won't be," Bridget said, "His parents are coming soon if they aren't already here. So…"

The younger girl sighed in defeat and flipped the blankets aside. She then began to sit up, Hiccup's arms sliding off her, but was stopped by a sleepy voice beneath her.

"Astrid?" Hiccup's eyes had fluttered open, and his voice was thick and slurred, "Wher'you goin'?"

Astrid smiled gently down at him and smoothed her hand over his hair. "I have to go back to my bed. I promise I'll be back later though, okay?"

"Mmmnooo," Hiccup moaned, "You can' leave. You're warm and m' comfortable." He tightened his arms around her, trying to pull her back down and regain the heat of her body that had calmed him so thoroughly last night.

Astrid chuckled. "I know. Me too. But I have to"-

He shook his head groggily and begged, "Don' leave me! Still feel sick. Don' wanna be 'lone."

Bridget could practically see his panicked pulse fluttering in his neck. Poor kid. But luckily Astrid seemed to know just what to do to prevent him from getting worked up any further. She appeased him by murmuring, "Shhh, alright, I'll stay. Go back to sleep, it's okay…"

Astrid casted the nurses a glance, and then settled back down on the bed so that Hiccup could hold her and bury his face under her chin, nosing the patch of bare skin above the hospital gown collar. He sighed contentedly, a warm breath that misted against her neck. The peace returned to his face as he closed his eyes again. After that, all it took was a hand rubbing over his bony back and the blond girl's quiet voice to send him back to sleep.

When his breathing grew heavy and even once more, Astrid sat up again and slid out of bed, regret in her face as she slipped Hiccup's arms off from her waist. Once she was standing next to the bed, she tucked his arms next to his body and covered him warmly again, before she leaned over and kissed his forehead. Hiccup hummed happily in response, a smile flashing over his face before his mouth relaxed and his lips parted again.

Astrid stood up abruptly and began to walk towards the door, her hands gripping her arms as if to prevent herself from reaching out to touch Hiccup again. Bridget took one last look at Hiccup, noting the utter bliss on his face, before she caught up behind her patient with her friend in tow.

"You're a pain my ass," Bridget said as she closed the door behind them, "But you must have something very special inside you if you can make a kid that sick smile like that."

"Hmph." Astrid didn't turn to acknowledge her, perhaps to keep Bridget from seeing the grin breaking across her face. "I'm nothing special. I'm just an asshole with no friends who cares about a bony, sarcastic idiot too much."

For the first time in a long time, Bridget laughed genuinely, and found herself aspiring to become the kind of asshole this dying girl already was.


	3. Chapter 3

The following Christmas, in Hiccup's humble opinion, was far better than the last one.

For one thing, he got to spend it at home and not at the hospital, and that in itself was a huge improvement. The other thing was that Astrid got to spend it with him as well. But that wasn't the only thing that made his Christmas so special.

Hiccup's parents had gone to a party after dinner, asking the two of them for the hundredth time if they'd be okay alone. But he knew it was a thinly veiled query about whether or not she had to worry about rushing either of them to the hospital tonight. Hiccup had smiled and shaken his head, telling her no, he actually felt really good today, Astrid echoing that she felt the same. It was the only reason the hospital had let her leave for the course of Christmas up until New Years. And it was the most wonderful holiday Astrid had experienced in years, filled with everything she remembered Christmas being like until she had been diagnosed and become more of a burden her parents didn't want to deal with.

So here they were, lit by the green and red lights Hiccup's mother insisted he hang in his room, Hiccup sitting in Astrid's lap while she leaned against his pillows. They were warm, their bellies were comfortably full, and even though it was nine in the evening, Hiccup felt very awake. That, however was probably due to the fact that he had passed out on the couch after dinner, another victim to the nefarious tryptophan induced turkey coma. But now at this point in the day only a comfortable drowsiness remained that resulted in long, lazy, sloppy kisses and ridiculous laughter over nothing.

And Hiccup really did feel good today, and from how she had been acting, so did Astrid. Living with an incurable disease and having bad days made them appreciate the good days all the more. It was difficult to explain to a healthy person, but Hiccup felt like he was being let off his leash, or heavy manacles that had squeezed his body relentlessly and made him slow with sickness had finally loosened their grip. He felt light and ecstatic, pleasure chemicals in his brain flooding the rest of him for no reason. The happy person he knew resided inside him but was chained back by pain, misery, and the bitterness that came along with it was finally allowed to come out and play.

And Astrid sure as hell noticed.

"You," she breathed when he pulled his lips away with a wet popping noise, "have been so frisky today."

Hiccup giggled like a child. "Mhmm," he hummed, and kissed her cheek innocently.

"I'm serious Hiccup, 'Mr. Busyhands' at the dinner table. Your parents were sitting right there you know."

"Mmm," he hummed again, hands sliding slowly up her waist.

"And you," she gasped when she felt him nip her ear. Her back arched against her will, and her legs that were already on either side of him, spread a little further, her body unconsciously searching for more pleasure. "And you…your fingers were about two inches away from"-

"I know," he sing-songed. He sat up, tilting his head at her with a big, stupid grin on his face, and Astrid took that chance to sit up as well and flip him over, reversing their positions. She settled onto his lap like a bird might settle over its nest; with the intent to stay for a while. The grin didn't disappear off his face in the slightest.

"You're such a dork," she said, shaking her head.

Hiccup replied with overly obnoxious cheer, "But I'm _your_ dork!"

"Yeah, and your dork-ness has rubbed off on me," Astrid rolled her eyes, "I couldn't quote Lord of the Rings before I met you. Thanks for that."

"And it's unbelievably sexy when you do."

"Oh good God."

He laughed, the sensation like giant, fat bubbles were tickling his entire being from his toes up. He pulled her onto his chest, wrapping his arms around her back and just feeling the warm boniness of her against him. God, she smelled so good and her short hair was so soft. And the fact that she had chosen him, of all people…he belonged to her and it was the most amazing thing in the world.

"I love you," she murmured, her breath washing warmly over his ear. He shivered with pleasure at hearing her say it.

"Never thought anyone besides my parents would ever tell me that," he mused wryly, "Love you too."

"Hiccup?"

Something in her voice changed. It sounded lower and more unsteady. But he didn't have time to contemplate that for long, because Astrid had sat up, and he caught a glimpse of her steely blue eyes before she was taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

It was a short kiss, but she seemed to be testing the waters for something, because after she took a breath, she went back in, her lips pleading, warm, searching for something inside of him. He didn't know what she was looking for, but he hooked his arms under hers and held her close, his knees bending back and pressing against her ribs. Her tongue slipped past his lips and rubbed along his. A whimpering moan squeaked up his throat. Now, they had kissed like this before, but not too often. They were usually too exhausted to do anything more than lay beside the other and press gentle pecks against the other's lips, talking in quiet murmurs.

So Hiccup was beyond shocked when Astrid began rocking her hips over his lap, grinding hard and forcing all the blood in his head to flush southwards. His own breathing was heavy and loud in his ears, and a heat he had never experience before tingling pleasantly in his stomach.

The heat increased exponentially when her lips separated from his and, tentatively at first, brushed over his cheek. His eyes opened to regard the ceiling, and then squeezed shut again when she began to press wet, open mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck. He arched his neck towards her for more of her attention, gasping continuously at this new, divine sensation. Her hips continued to roll over his lap, and his blood grew hotter, collecting between his legs and stirring awake a being Hiccup didn't recognize. It was something base and sensuous, something wild and completely beyond him. He could feel himself separating from the ever present pain in his body to embrace it, and Astrid, his beautiful, crazy best friend, was making this happen.

And then she pulled away.

Hiccup opened his eyes with a confused noise. He realized she was holding his face in her hands and looking down at him intensely, her shoulders heaving with her breaths. But there was also something infinitely sad behind the glimmer of arousal.

She shook her head. "It sucks to be sick all the time Hiccup. It fucking _sucks._"

What? Way to kill the mood. "Uh, yeah it does," he replied slowly, "But there's always someone worse off."

Astrid laughed bitterly and said, "Hiccup, _we're _the kind of people other people are talking about when they say that."

The heady glow from before was drowning under a cold wave of bitterness, and Hiccup was too used to feeling bitter. He hated it. In fact, he much preferred the pleasure from a few minutes earlier.

"What's the matter?" he asked, rubbing his thumbs over her shoulders.

Her eyes flickered down to stare at his steadily rising and falling chest, and her hands slid from his face to rest on it. "You're the best friend I've ever had," she admitted quietly, "And I love you so much that it scares and thrills the shit out of me. I can't even…I've watched you puke your guts into your lap and beg for someone to just kill you and end it. The fucked up part is I understand exactly how you feel, and I can't do anything to take your pain away. Not a single damn thing."

"No, no no no," Hiccup denied vehemently, "If it weren't for you, there's no way I would have been strong enough to keep myself going. You're the one who forces me to eat when I don't have the will to do it myself, you're the one who keeps me grounded when it feels like the pain is going to carry me away. And you sat outside the operating room during every single surgery I've had, and then you were the first one I saw when I woke up. You call that nothing?"

She sighed, her mouth opening and closing, as if she was unsure of what to say next. Then, she seemed to give up and lean forward, burying her face in his shoulder. Hiccup wrapped his arms around her, feeling her spine through her shirt.

"That's not the point," Astrid mumbled into his neck, "The point was that I wanted to…I don't have much to offer, Hiccup, but I want to make you feel good. I wanted to take away your pain for a little while. Only problem is, it's pretty hard to make love to someone when most days you can't even lift your head from the pillow."

Hiccup froze, and tried to process this impossible thought in his brain. She wanted to make what to him? _Him? _A ninety pound skeleton? When it refused to compute, he finally asked, "You're saying you want to have sex?"

She huffed a frustrated breath. "Yes."

"With me?"

"Yes, with you."

"_Why?"_

She sat up abruptly and glared down at him as if he had offended her. "Are you kidding me? Were you not listening?"

"I was, but…I'm not exactly much to look at, Astrid."

Her jaw dropped. "You idiot, you're gorgeous, and you only got even more gorgeous as you got older."

Hiccup sputtered in disbelief for a moment before Astrid put a hand over his mouth.

"You know, in my defense I've already seen you naked," she shrugged, "And I'm still here. Now I don't want to hear your excuses or any other crap. I just want to give this to you. Please, Hiccup."

He closed his eyes, hesitated, and nodded, before saying, "Alright. But only if you let me return the favor. You deserve it."

"Hiccup"-

"_You deserve it._"

She exhaled a heavy breath through her nose, but didn't say anything else.

At first, Hiccup was quite reluctant to undress. The fact that you could count his ribs and cut yourself on his collarbone was not exactly a turn-on, in his mind. But Astrid helped to loosen him up, distracting him with kisses so deep he thought she was trying to swallow his heart. It was too late for that, but that was beside the point. The point was now her hands had snuck under his shirt and exploring the bumps and angles of his hips and sides, feeling the smoothness and heat of his skin. Panting, Hiccup reverently reciprocated her touches, sliding his hands up her back and pulling her shirt up with the movement.

Astrid surprised him completely when she finally removed his shirt. She didn't hesitate to cover the revealed skin in kisses that were two thirds meant to be arousing and one third comforting. Her hands were braced on his hips, holding him like he was a sacred relic fallen from the sky, and Hiccup in turn couldn't stop running his fingers through her hair, or breathing her name like a prayer to the heavens. His legs spread and his hips rocked slowly, and Astrid rewarded him by unzipping his pants and reaching down between them, closing her hand around the prominent bulge there.

When she squeezed him, he couldn't breathe.

It felt like his breath would never return to his lungs in that initial blast of unexpected ecstasy, but then he came back to earth a moment later. Her hand was very warm but her touch was a little uncoordinated at first. But then she settled into a definite rhythm, watching his face to see what made him jerk spasmodically, what had him pushing his groin further into her grip for _more_, what made his eyes flutter and what made him make those animalistic sounds Hiccup had never heard himself produce before. He was certain she could feel his pulse beating in his groin, and he in turn could feel himself searching for her pulse in neck, tongue smoothing over it in an expression of passionate gratitude.

Hands itching to do something, he gently began to pull her shirt up over her head, eyes lidded heavily and heart pounding hard in his temples. He felt almost a little faint then, anemic as he was, when the blood that normally rushed around his head went down to supply his erection, but he didn't care. Everything was so _good_ right now; Astrid was everywhere, and her bare shoulders were being lit by gold, red and green light. Her scent grounded him, elated him, and kept him with her.

When she removed her bra and let it fall, a feeling Hiccup could only describe as holy privilege flooded his brain and trickled down his throat. This was something no one else had been allowed to see, something reserved for his eyes only. She was too thin much in the same way he was, but her curves were trying to assert themselves despite that. Her breasts were perfectly hand-sized, rosy and so _pretty_. He couldn't look away, no matter how much he felt like a pervert for staring, but he hoped the wonder in his eyes shone through.

Astrid averted her eyes, her shoulders tense with uneasiness. Feeling her stiffen, Hiccup's brows immediately drew upward with concern.

"I'm sorry they're not very big," she mumbled, looking very ashamed, "In my defense, I've always done sports, so even when I wasn't so thin they were still small."

Hiccup couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But…Astrid, you-I don't care! They're yours, so I like them. Besides, I think they're really pretty."

She raised an eyebrow at him, but at least she was meeting his eyes now. Smiling encouragingly, he slid his hands up her ribs before he, with a quick glance into her eyes, brushed the underside of her breasts with his thumb. Her eyes closed and her breathing quickened, before her back straightened itself in a show of increased confidence. Noticing this, Hiccup let his hands wander a little more, kneading her breasts and rolling her nipples gently. Astrid's head tilted back ever so slightly, pressing her chest further into his grip.

Watching her being pleased and knowing it was because of him was intoxicating in a manner Hiccup never knew was possible. It was entirely psychological aided by sensory input, and it was so unique and powerful. Wriggling excitedly, he sat up and gently pushed Astrid down onto her back. Her face was flushed and her eyes were reflecting the low light, her pupils dilated and her chest heaving. He hovered over her on his hands and knees for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, and felt the overwhelming need to give her more, like she had done for him.

So he lowered his head and began to kiss wetly down her chest. He licked the space between her breasts before closing his mouth over one of the mounds themselves. Astrid's reaction beneath him was immediate; she arched and dug her fingers into his hair, gasping rhythmically and massaging his scalp.

That was the first time Hiccup had ever heard her utter his name in such a way that he felt like he could orgasm from the sound alone.

But then her voice grew firmer, less breathy, and Hiccup could tell she was trying to get his attention. So he lifted his head to regard her.

"Could you…" she began, and then faltered, "If it's too soon I understand, and you don't have to if you don't want to, but I…" her voice trailed off into embarrassed mumbling Hiccup couldn't understand.

"What did you say?"

She took a deep breath and forced herself to meet his eyes. "I want to have you inside me. Please. If you want."

Hiccup's brain shorted out again and his arms and legs almost gave out simultaneously. But when her face remained pleading and didn't falter, he knew she was being serious. Oh God, experiencing that with Astrid, connecting with her in that way, was a dream beyond dreaming. He still had trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that she found him worthy enough for such a sacred experience.

"Okay," he whispered, feeling the blood roaring in his ears with anxiety. Astrid took that moment to kiss him, and then nuzzled her nose against his jaw.

They separated briefly and removed their pants and underwear in awkward silence, both wanting the union but unsure how to go about it. Desperate to break the silence, Hiccup voiced a concern that had been niggling in the back of his mind.

"Uh, shouldn't we use protection, or…?"

Astrid laughed softly, and the sound was halfhearted and hollow. "You don't have to worry about me getting pregnant. I haven't had my period in a year and a half. When you lose a certain amount of weight, your body just shuts it off and stops your cycles. Just another sign of the cancer, you know."

Hiccup instantly felt ashamed. "Astrid, I'm sorry"-

She shook her head, smiling and assuring him, "Don't worry about it. I'm getting negative, and this is not the time to be getting negative."

They didn't say anything else once the pants were gone and Astrid was lying beneath Hiccup again, her hands fidgeting nervously over his shoulders and upper arms. It wasn't until Hiccup took a deep breath, kissed her one more time and whispered to let him know if he was hurting her, that he finally made a move. He took his length in hand and positioned himself down so that his tip touched her folds. A breath left him in a rush just from that barest hint of contact alone, and Astrid, almost instinctively it seemed, tilted up her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist. The action pushed him against her even further to the point that the entire tip was engulfed in wet heat. Shivering, Hiccup grabbed her hand, an automatic action born from the need of comforting physical contact in the hospital, and held it above her head. He then thrust his hips and slid smoothly in.

Hiccup couldn't help it; he moaned so lewdly that he would have been mortified had he been in any other situation. He could barely believe that that needy, lustful cry could have come from him. Astrid squeezed his hand in a death grip, her body going tense and hard as a brick. She arched toward him and a short whimper that she tried to stifle squeaked through her vocal chords.

And it was his fault.

"Astrid"- Hiccup began anxiously.

"Stop it, stop it," she said through gritted teeth, "It's okay. I want this, it's okay."

Not knowing what else to do, he sat perfectly still, kissing her face and neck comfortingly. They stayed like that for a minute, Hiccup allowing her to take all the time she needed to adjust to his invasion. But unlike all the other pain they experienced, this had a purpose. It was a gateway to ecstasy, to breathlessness and togetherness, and to Hiccup it was something he was willing to wait forever for.

When Astrid finally murmured that she was ready, Hiccup tentatively began to move, his hips falling into a stunted rhythm that still gave her the option to back out if she wanted. But instead, she wrapped her free arm around his shoulder and tightened her grip with her legs, her body deflating with a sigh and her muscles going loose. She began to roll her hips into his thrusts, surrendering.

With Astrid relaxed and responding more positively, Hiccup could finally focus his attention on the wet heat squeezing the most sensitive part of his body. This was it, this was the end all of bliss. It had to be. Nothing else made his mind empty so thoroughly. No other sensation was so all-consuming that he couldn't talk himself through it and remind himself that he was still stuck in his brittle body with no hope of escape.

This was something on a level his mortal mind couldn't even being to comprehend.

The bed was beginning to creak in tandem with his steady tempo, and Astrid breathily moaned a request for him to go faster. He did, and he could hear the muffled slap of skin on skin, see the vibrations run all the way up through her body every time his hips smacked into hers.

That was about when the faintness began to reassert itself in earnest.

Hiccup grit his teeth against it, and if anything began to thrust even harder, Astrid urging him on with stunted gasps that eventually morphed into loud, appreciative groans the more intense the pleasure grew. That was what the problem was; everything about this situation was too intense. The sights, the smells, the sounds…all five of his senses were being beautifully and completely assaulted by Astrid Hofferson, and the resulting divine feelings were crushing him. He clutched her hand tighter, determined to ride it out and win against his body, just this once.

Eventually, with a wanton cry, Hiccup just let go and began to pound into her as hard as he could physically manage. Astrid responded with a cry of her own, her eyes squeezed shut as her free hand unhooked itself from his shoulders and reached between her legs, rubbing herself furiously. Hiccup felt her knuckles churning against him, and let out a high pitched, ragged whimper at the sensation.

Climax began to build in his belly, hard, terrible and savagely wonderful. It was tight and hot and overwhelming, and it swept away his aches as if they had never existed. Hiccup gasped harshly, crushing Astrid against him and burying his face into her neck, free of pain for the first time in his life and sharing it with the girl who held his heart. He was terrified, losing himself to forces inside his body he didn't know had been there all along, and he never wanted it to end even if he felt like he was about to die.

He was tasting the silver lining of the heavens and had never come so close to a perfect state of being as he did then.

Hiccup came with a shuddering snarl, feeling tears burn their way down his cheeks, and for a moment, his vision went white, his body winning out unfortunately once more.

But this time, the loss of control was worth it. This time, Hiccup welcomed it and kissed Astrid weakly in an attempt at thanks he couldn't possibly hope to express the way he wanted to. Shivering, sobbing, and breathing her praises over and over again, Hiccup allowed himself to be shepherded under his blankets. He clung to her warmth and wondered what he would do without her comfort for the hundredth time that day, snuggling weakly into her.

For once when he fell asleep, he fell asleep to the feeling of lingering ecstasy in his veins. It was a pain very much like he was used to, but it tore him apart in a way that made him feel more human than he ever had been before.

**A/N: A good chunk of Hiccup's musings in this part are based on my own experience. Now, I don't have a terminal illness nor a disease as severe as Crohn's, but I do know what it's like to live with a condition that debilitates you to the point that you can't live on your own. **

**I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis when I was eighteen months old, and it's been a bitch ever since. I have my good days, I have my bad days. On bad days it's like having the flu and I share Hiccup's frustration of feeling trapped in a sucky body and wishing to be free. It's a heavy and oppressive feeling, but one you learn to live with. The anger, depression and anxiety are all there and are part of the package. It sucks because being in such pain makes you cranky, and you hate yourself for treating the people around you who just want to help you like shit, and then you feel like shit for treating them that way, and there's a lot of shit flying around lol. **

**So yeah, thought I'd throw my own experience in there. This was supposed to be more comforting than sexy, so I hope it accomplished that. **


	4. Chapter 4

The previous night had been like a dream, and the morning was no less surreal.

Astrid was standing in the kitchen, pajamas hastily thrown on and covered by a tired robe, feet in a pair of colorful sleeper socks. The morning she had awoken to was completely white: white ground, white sky, white trees, and silent. She could hear her heart beating in her ears as she stared out the window, pulse slow and serene, her head trapped in its own dream world and refusing to leave it.

When she had woke, the proof that, yes, she and Hiccup had made love, was still deep in sleep beside her buried up to his nose in blankets. The entire length of his body was flush against hers, naked skin sweating from the heat of his quilts. Sleeping in Hiccup's bed was like sleeping on a toasty cloud because of the layers of blankets he kept on it, yet he still snuggled against Astrid the whole night as if he were freezing. This morning had found him with his head on her shoulder, arms tucked up against his body, snoring like a delicate chainsaw. She would have liked to spend the morning soaking up his heat, watching his ribs expand and contract as he breathed, and his face twitch in sleep, but her bladder had forced her up. Damn killjoy.

So here she was, too awake to go back to sleep but too drowsy to do anything but stare unblinkingly at the winter oasis outside.

Footsteps thumped softly against the floor of the kitchen, accompanied by a quiet yawn. Astrid turned her head slightly in the direction of the sound, but she knew who it was. Hiccup stood behind her and nosed her hair, sighed sleepily and laid his chin on her shoulder, hooking his arms around her waist. Astrid smirked when she realized he had in fact gotten dressed and thrown on a robe of his own, a huge thing that swallowed his tiny frame whenever he wore it. She leaned back gently into him, placing her hands on top of his.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, "It's seven in the morning."

Hiccup yawned again, and out of the corner of her eye Astrid could see that his eyes were closed.

"I was cold," he said.

Astrid shook her head. "You were cold. Really."

"Mhmm. You kept me warm all last night, and then you left. You're keeping me warm now."

A warm, cozy bubble rose up from her groin and settled in her chest. She found she really liked this Hiccup, with his affectionate nuzzles and his thick just-woke-up voice. "Guess I'll just have to spend every night with you. So you stay warm."

"You might have to," he agreed, kissing her ear.

"God, stop being so cute."

"Don't wanna."

She laughed, and reached one of her arms back to settle in his hair, stroking it. Hiccup sighed and his body instantly grew heavier, leaning his head against hers. The action, combined with her body's memory of their lovemaking the night before (she was still sore between her legs), sparked something slow, snuggly, and deeply affectionate in the girl who was famous for her sailor's mouth. She felt closer to this scrawny beanpole than she ever had in her life, and she wanted to tell Hiccup that, but she didn't want to sound like a sap.

Eh, thankfully Hiccup didn't mind if she sounded like a sap.

"Thank you," she murmured, "For last night."

Hiccup tensed a bit behind her, and his response made her want to crack up. "You…you did like it?"

Astrid couldn't help snorting a little anyway, "It was a bit awkward at times, but I'd still say 'like' is a bit of an understatement."

"Oh. Good."

She pressed her rear against his groin not-so-subtly, and noted his surprised grunt with glee.

"It…that wasn't how I expected my first time to be," she explained, "I mean, everyone tells you that sex is just raw passion and it's all about the pleasure. But when I was with you, I don't know, I felt the passion. And the pleasure."

She could practically feel Hiccup's face heating up at her words, the blush crawling down his neck.

"But I felt like I was being comforted too. Last night's sex felt safe and sweet, and it made me feel so close to you. And this morning, when I was there in your bed, still naked and everything…"

Astrid could have been hearing things, but she could have sworn she heard Hiccup swallow hard next to her.

"…all I could think was, 'this is it, this is where everything feels right. I don't want to be anywhere else. I want to wake up next to this guy every morning.' I've felt so restless and scared for so long, it was nice to feel content for once."

Hiccup whimpered, and Astrid didn't think he meant to, because he covered it up with a kiss to her neck, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I…uh," he stammered, "I can't think of anything to say to that other than I've wanted the same thing. I just thought I was crazy."

The hand in his hair returned to his hands around her waist, patting it soothingly. There was a subtle quiver to his core and a thickness to his voice that said he spoke the truth and desired to say more, but he felt he would never be able to find words adequate enough to speak his thoughts. She clucked with sympathy.

"Sorry," she said, "That was a bit overwhelming for so early in the morning."

Hiccup nodded, "Yes, but it was the most wonderful thing I've heard in my life."

They slipped into silence for a while, drinking each other in, each feeling the heat and scent of the other body and allowing it to mingle with the dreamy snowscape just beyond the window. Astrid shifted, and found herself looking down at their hands. Hiccup had finally grown into the long limbs and fingers he possessed when she first met him in the emergency room in the hospital. He was still a bit gawky, yes, but overall he had turned into a gorgeous, sweet thing that had managed to do what no one else had done before; cool Astrid Hofferson's temper and turn it into a powerful, protective force called love.

For some reason, when she looked at their joined hands, it wasn't hard to imagine matching silver bands on their ring fingers.

"Is this what it would be like?" she mused.

"Is what what would be like?" Hiccup questioned.

Astrid sunk a little further against him, and when she spoke again, it was in a voice so quiet and vulnerable she couldn't believe it came out of her.

"If we were married."

Hiccup's eyes opened then, but his body remained relaxed, as if the notion didn't alarm him. Yet, he knew as she did what the doctors had said. Her cancer wasn't getting any better. Chances were good she wouldn't live to see thirty.

She would never live long enough to marry Hiccup.

"I would think so," he murmured, "At least, some mornings would be like this. Some we would be too pissed at each other, or too tired, or we might miss each other entirely. If nothing else it'd be easier to have sex if we were married."

Astrid laughed in agreement, and for reason felt compelled to lift one of his hands around her waist to her lips and kiss it. She felt Hiccup watch her do it, his breath warm against the skin of her neck.

"I'd take care of you," she promised hoarsely.

"I'd take care of you too." His voice sounded tight, like he was trying to swallow something but couldn't.

"Yeah, we'd argue sometimes," she whispered, "We'd be exhausted sometimes. We wouldn't always have time for each other. But I feel like, no matter what, there would always be that sense of love whenever we'd be with each other. That's what it's like to love your companion, your best friend. If I could have that, I could die happy."

Hiccup's breath shuddered behind her, and when she finally turned around to face him, she saw that his chin was quivering and his eyes were shining with tears. Without a word, she pulled him back into an embrace, rubbing his back and nuzzling her face in his shoulder while he buried his in her hair. His breaths were heavy as he tried to rein in his emotions, and Astrid held him through it all.

"Would you marry me?" Astrid whispered after his breathing had evened out a little.

She felt Hiccup nod beside her, his throat too tight for him to squeeze any words out, and she clung to him a little tighter.

And just behind the doorway that led into the kitchen, Valka had heard it all, and she let her face fall into her hands, biting back curses, wondering for the millionth time why life had chosen her son and this poor girl as its punching bag.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I have no explanation for this other than I saw an opportunity while researching and took it, and Caitlin aka themetaphorgirl is too sweet and comes up with too many good ideas. **

Digestion is a long, convoluted, delicate process, full of hazardous twisting turns. It takes five seconds for food to make it down the esophagus after it is swallowed, where it sits in the stomach for two to four hours. After that, it takes five to six hours for the small intestine (which is a twenty foot tube approximately an inch in diameter that is squished into a very small space) to absorb all the nutrients it can, before it passes on to the colon (a tube about as long as most people are tall) where nutrients are absorbed further in a twelve to twenty four hour long process, before it is expelled from the body. All in all, the process of digestion from the moment you eat to the moment you shit takes anywhere between twenty or thirty hours.

Twenty to thirty goddamn hours. That's a long time to be suffering.

Hiccup hated eating in front of his parents for the sole, ironic fact that during mealtimes, he often chose not to eat. Or at least, not eat enough to keep a bird alive, much less a young man whose body needed all the nutrition it could get to successfully accomplish its growth spurt. The tragic thing about Crohn's, however, was that the lining of the intestines were often thicker than normal, and it wasn't unusual for them to be lined with ulcers caused by stress. So when anything passed through them, i.e food, it tended to cause a lot of discomfort bordering on pain.

So here he was, dejectedly pushing the food around on his plate and staring at the floor like it held the cure for his disease. He really wished it did; dinner smelled delicious, and he hated that his body wouldn't let him enjoy it, especially when his mom worked so hard on it.

"Love, please," Valka entreated from across the table, "Just a couple bites. You have to eat _something_."

Hiccup sniffed, refusing to meet her eyes. "It hurts when I eat," he said pathetically.

"I know it does sweetheart, but you have to. You've lost another ten pounds these past two weeks that you can't afford to lose. You know what the doctors told you, if you get any"-

"- thinner then I'm going to start having heart problems, blackouts, be too weak to get out of bed, I know," he cut her off, more harshly than he had intended.

Valka didn't seem deterred though. She understood, she really did. "Here, why don't you try the mashed potatoes at least? I made them thinner so they'd be easier going down."

Hiccup couldn't find it in himself to shut his mother down yet again, so he simply said nothing and tried to swallow his anxiety. The absolutely messed up part about all of this was that in fact the pain in his stomach currently was from hunger. He _wanted_ to eat, wanted to cease the uncomfortable shifting and churning the stomach does when it's mostly empty. He wanted to fill it with something warm and comfortable so his body would relax and take him out of that primal "we're hungry so we need to be alert and looking for food" mode. And then, he wanted to curl up on the couch in front of the fire and just pass the hell out, be dead to the world, comfy and happy.

But he remembered the pain too acutely, the suffering that occurred when whatever he had enjoyed so much putting in his stomach continued its journey through his twisted up insides. He felt every speed bump, every shift and unnatural twist in his belly as a burning, stabbing sensation that didn't go away until his dysfunctional intestines soaked up whatever meager nutrients they could, and it usually wasn't much.

Twenty to thirty hours of that pain wasn't worth the shitty reward at the end.

Hiccup swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing in earnest. He could feel the heat from his father's glare and knew what was coming.

"Hiccup," he said lowly, "Either you eat willingly, or I'm taking you to the ER myself and I'll have them force another feeding tube down your throat. Remember how much you enjoyed that last time?"

"Stoick!" Valka hissed.

"I'm serious, Val! He knows what his options are. Now he just has to choose."

Hiccup winced and barely stopped a whimper from squeaking up throat. God, the feeding tube. He had nightmares about it still. Yes, it had helped save his life, but nothing could scrub away the skin-crawling sensation of unnatural plastic being threaded through his nose and down his throat, all the way down into his belly. Every time he had shifted wrong, he felt it move sickeningly against the walls of his esophagus and he had to resist the urge to choke. And when they had actually fed him through it, there was the creepy sensation of his stomach being filled without actually engaging in any of the normal motions associated with eating. Worse still was when it came out and he saw how much tubing had been inside him, the end of it still coated in stringy mucus. The end also triggered his gag reflex on the way out, and it had sent him into helpless dry heaves for a few moments.

Yet it still didn't compare to twenty to thirty hours of torture.

"I can't," he whispered plaintively, trying to get his parents to understand his plight, "I'm sorry. I'm hungry, I really am! I just…it hurts. I don't want to hurt. I'm already tired, and if I eat I'll probably be kept up all night because my stupid body doesn't know how to process food like everyone's else. All it knows how to do is make me feel like shit."

He felt his eyes burning with tears by the time he finished speaking. His parents were silent. They didn't even reprimand him for his language. Hiccup heard his father sigh, stand from the table, and come over to pull his son's head against his chest briefly before he began to collect the dishes and head into the kitchen. He felt his mother's eyes burning into him, but then she too distracted herself with cleaning up and moving into the other room.

Hiccup laid his chin on the table, pushing his plate of untouched food away. He blinked his tears back, pointedly ignored the loud, angry growl his belly produced, and made to head into his room.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard his mother crying quietly from the kitchen.

"...feel so helpless. I'm his mother, I'm supposed to make him better when he's hurting…"

"…I feel helpless too Val, it's okay…"

"…don't want to lose my baby…"

Hiccup sunk back heavily into his chair, feeling tears prick at his eyes anew. He loved his parents more than he loved himself; to know that he was hurting them by not eating was absolutely killing him.

Perhaps that's what made him take a deep breath and force mashed potatoes onto his spoon, before sticking it in his mouth.

_Stop, stop! _one primal part of his brain screamed at him, _It'll hurt, it'll hurt!_

But another primal part of him told him he needed to eat or he would die. And his heart told him he was doing it for his parents, not himself. He couldn't stand to see his mother cry, and if this would stop her tears he would do it.

One bite. Two. The mashed potatoes tasted like cold glue at this point, and his own instinct to avoid pain and knowing what caused it sent it back up his throat a few times before he forced it down with water. Shuddering, he gulped down a little more, and didn't stop until his writhing stomach was soothed into stillness, deeming that it was full enough that Hiccup could put down his spoon. He did, chugged the rest of his water, decided he was going to regret it later when he awoke in the middle of the night with a bladder filled to the point of bursting, and hastily took his dishes into the kitchen.

Hiccup didn't look up at either of them, still feeling small and ashamed. But he did make a point of handing his mother his plate, before he kissed her cheek apologetically and thanked her for dinner.

He would never be able to fathom the shock and relief that burst through her when she saw the dent he had made into his dinner, and didn't stick around to hear her soft sobs of happiness.

Instead, Hiccup collapsed on the couch, pulled whatever blankets were in reach over himself, felt Toothless hop up onto his side and settle down, and allowed himself to sink into the sleep his body forced upon him so that it could concentrate on digesting what he had just put in it.

Twenty to thirty hours of uncomfortable, burning hellfire is torture. Too bad fate had forgotten to factor in that Hiccup loved too strongly and too deeply to care if he destroyed himself making others happy.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I hurt myself really bad writing this, haha. Like, I had to stop a few times because I couldn't see the screen cause I had started crying. Oops. I should probably mention that this AU in which Hiccup has Crohn's and Astrid has brain cancer has turned into a bit of a collaboration between myself and themetaphorgirl. She's an amazing writer that has brought tears to my eyes with the stuff she has shown me for this universe. She's just so enthusiastic about this idea and always has me jumping to my inbox praying that she's sending me a bit more story lol. She's overflowing with amazing ideas and headcannons that I hope she gets the opportunity to put up here soon. **

**This takes place near the end, and is told from Toothless' of view. I of course like a sad ending in which Astrid eventually dies from her brain cancer while Hiccup follows her soon after, giving up on life because she's no longer there. So yeah. Go get the tissues.**

Toothless sighed and shifted on Hiccup's pillow, covering his face with his paws. The morning light was too bright in his eyes, and he wished it would go away.

Wait, morning?

He lifted his head, fur mashed on one side of his face. It was morning now? That meant Hiccup had been gone all night. Toothless had panicked when his boy had begun wheezing in the middle of the night, unable to draw in a breath for the life of him. And to the cat's sensitive eyes, he could see even in the dark that his skin and eyes had taken on a strange, yellowish color. Toothless had immediately hopped off the bed and went screaming into Hiccup's parents' room. His voice had luckily been loud enough to wake them, and he led them into his boy's room, mouth wide and pink in his black face as he continued to cry. There had been a flurry of activity after that involving rapid, high pitched whispers, Hiccup's terrified moans, and his dad lifting his son out of bed and rushing him out of the house. Toothless had heard the sound of the car roaring out of the driveway a moment later, and then everything had gone quiet.

Toothless glanced at the pillow underneath him, dully noting that it was covered in his black fur with strands of his best friend's copper hairs interspersed on top. For some reason, this made him feel better, and he rubbed his face against the pillow, coming up with strands of human hair caught in his whiskers.

Just then, he heard the distant sound of a car door slamming, and he was instantly alert, ears swiveling. When the door to the house opened and shut and he heard Valka and Stoick's voices, Toothless was instantly at his feet, chirping curiously and craning his head to try and see out the doorway without leaving the bed.

"…we'll put you back to bed and then you can rest," Valka was saying, her voice drifting down the hall, "We'll take care of all the paperwork and get you set up with some home hospice care, okay?"

"I don't have to go back to the hospital?" That was Hiccup's voice, and it sounded so terribly weak that Toothless had to repress the urge to shiver in uneasiness.

"No," Stoick's deep baritone assured him, "You don't have to go back there ever again."

They suddenly appeared in the doorway, Stoick carrying his son, whose legs dangled limply at the knees while his head was cradled against his father's massive bicep. Meowing excitedly, Toothless jumped down from the bed, standing up against Stoick's legs once they came to a stop by the side of the bed in an attempt to reach Hiccup. With extreme tenderness, Valka and Stoick worked in tandem to pull the blankets back and gently lower their frail, precious burden into the soft nest. Once they had pulled the blankets up to Hiccup's chin, Toothless leapt onto the bed and padded up to Hiccup's face. His boy's eyes were closed, so he reached one forepaw forward and gently tapped Hiccup's chin, mindful of his claws. With that, the boy opened his eyes, smiling weakly and reaching out a hand for Toothless to rub against.

"Hey bud," he murmured, "You miss me?"

Toothless began purring hard, sprinkling in little mews that he hoped conveyed how worried he had been. He couldn't decide if he wanted Hiccup to scratch him or if he wanted to lick those fingers in relief. So he decided to do both, making his boy laugh softly.

"I think he missed me or something," Hiccup said to his parents, tilting his head up so he could look at them.

They laughed, but the sound seemed awkward and hollow to Toothless' ears. But then again, he might have heard them wrong because all he could do at the moment was revel in the fact that his boy was back and Toothless had a purpose once more. His heart was whole and could beat comfortably again.

Valka bent and kissed Hiccup's forehead, brushing the hair away from his eyes. "I'm going to call the hospital so we can begin to arrange everything. Do you want your dad to stay with you?"

Hiccup shrugged. "Sure."

When she left, Stoick sat on the edge of the bed, taking one of Hiccup's hands in his and squeezing. Toothless thought it looked so pale and tiny compared to his dad's, like it might break if the larger man held it too tightly.

The black cat decided to climb onto his boy and lay down gently on his chest. He tucked his paws in beneath him, vibrating with his deafening purrs and his own elation at having his world being complete again.

After a few moments of palpably awkward silence, Hiccup eventually spoke. His voice was brittle and soft, almost like a shadow of what it used to be.

"So, last night happened because my kidneys and liver are failing?"

Stoick nodded forlornly. "Yes. That's what the doctor said."

"And soon everything's just going to shut down and…that'll be it." Hiccup's eyes flickered back and forth pensively. "I only have a few weeks, then, a month if I'm lucky."

More silence that was only filled with another insistent mew from Toothless, who was trying to regain Hiccup's attention. He didn't like the smell Hiccup was emanating at the moment; it was a sour mix of deep sickness and anxiety, and the cat just wanted to make it go away in any way he could. Luckily, the anxiety wisped away a moment later when Hiccup switched to scratching between Toothless' shoulder blades with both hands. But the room was still taut with something, something still hiding under the surface and waiting to strike.

"You know, it's weird," Hiccup said at length, "I'm not as freaked out as I should be. I guess I've known for a while that I was dying and it was like I was just waiting for everyone else to catch on. Now I'm just happy I get to stay home."

Stoick's lips twitched and Toothless couldn't tell if he was trying to smile or not to cry. "There's a silver lining to everything," he nodded.

"Dad, I'm really sorry."

His father looked incredulous. "What for?"

Hiccup lowered his gaze to his sheets, unable to meet anyone's eyes, not even Toothless'. "I feel like I'm letting everyone down by just…giving up like this. I don't want to leave you and mom, but I just…I can't explain it. I love you guys so much, and I don't want you to hurt."

Stoick's chin began to quiver, and he said thickly, "You can't ask that of us."

"I know I can't"-

"And you're not letting anyone down. Your mom and I love you too, so much that it breaks our hearts, and if this is what you want…oh Hiccup…"

Toothless watched as the huge man bent over and gathered Hiccup's head against him, burying it in his shoulder. He was trying not to cry but failing miserably, and Hiccup let himself be held because he needed it as much as his dad. Even when his boy stopped petting him to reach up and hug his dad's neck, he didn't protest.

How could he?

000

The next few weeks were a blur for Toothless. Too many things were happening at once for him to discern the days anymore, and he didn't care about keeping track of the days anyway. All he knew was that slowly, quietly, and surely, Hiccup was getting worse.

Toothless was growing very frightened indeed, to the point where he refused to leave his boy's side for anything; not to eat or use the litterbox. Eventually, Hiccup's parents moved Toothless' food and water on Hiccup's desk and brought the litterbox to the cat every few hours before removing it once he had used it. Other than that, each indiscernible day was a desperate struggle for Toothless as he watched his boy gradually sleep more and talk less. He didn't eat, or bother to groom himself anymore, and only drank sparingly, and he had to be helped into order to do so. He was as white as his sheets, thin as a rail, and his eyes had begun to sink back into their sockets.

The black cat tried to do everything in his power to make Hiccup well again. He purred constantly, knowing his boy liked the sound because he knew it meant Toothless was happy. He took upon himself to groom Hiccup as well, meticulously washing his hair with his tongue. When he wasn't doing that, he was nosing around his boy to see what parts of his body were coldest today, and depending on the answer that's where he would lay. Sometimes he found himself on Hiccup's feet, or his legs, or even on top of his head. Most of the time he just draped himself across Hiccup's middle because he knew that area of his boy needed to be kept warm above all else.

Lately, some strange people visited the house and came into Hiccup's room. They smelled odd, like antiseptic, and even though they smiled, Toothless didn't trust them. They always wanted to poke Hiccup with needles, or take him out of bed when he was clearly freezing and shivering. Didn't they see his boy was exhausted and cold? He needed to stay warm under the blankets of his nest and sleep if he was going to get better! So Toothless would stand there over his boy, hissing and lashing out his forepaws with claws extended, fluffing to twice his normal size, trying to get them to leave Hiccup alone. As long as Toothless was there, no one would touch his best friend.

That was when they started shooing Toothless from the room, picking him and placing him out in the hall before shutting the door behind them. Toothless would sit there and run his claws down the door, yowling his head off for hours. What was wrong with them, couldn't they see he needed to be with Hiccup? It was even worse when he heard Hiccup's voice on the other side calling for Toothless, wondering where they put him and why. Toothless would redouble his efforts to get inside, jumping at the door handle and trying to twist it, but no avail. When the people that smelled like antiseptic left, he would dash under their feet back in Hiccup's room, hopping on the bed and snuggling by his boy's head, covering his face in anxious kisses.

"Aw, it's okay bud," Hiccup would say comfortingly, running a hand down his back, "It's okay, I'm still here. I'm okay."

And Toothless would rub his face all over Hiccup's, _mowww_-ing, purring and licking him. Of course he was okay. Toothless was here now, and he wouldn't let anything happen to him.

000

Spring was coming. Toothless could smell it, a subtle wave of warmth trying to break through layers of cold and wet. Right now it was doing a terrible job, because it was raining like crazy outside and the entire world was cloaked in grey.

Normally, Toothless would be watching the rain run down the window and trying to catch it, but something in Hiccup's scent had changed so dramatically overnight that it terrified him within an inch of his life. Every living thing had something inside them that Toothless could detect, like a little flame in the center of them that gave off heat and a specific, warm sort of smell.

The little flame was flickering dangerously low in Hiccup. He could barely smell it anymore.

So now here they were, Valka sitting up on the bed with her son pulled close on her lap, his head resting in her shoulder with the blankets up around his ears. Stoick was holding one of Hiccup's hands in both of his, sitting on the other side of them. Even the dogs were curled up on the floor, and they very rarely ever came into Hiccup's room because they knew it belonged to the cat. Everything about this was so surreal; Valka never grew afraid, Stoick was never sad and Hiccup wasn't ever so quiet.

And this time, Toothless didn't have any idea how to fix it.

So he did what he could to make his boy feel better; he purred as loud and as cheerfully as he could, he laid across Hiccup's belly, trying to cover as much of him as he could. But nothing was working. Hiccup remained asleep, his breathing so much slower and quieter than normal. Everything about this sleep was wrong. Hiccup wasn't snoring like he usually did, or twitching in the slightest. He was just very cold and still, and Toothless felt more helpless than he ever had in his life.

Suddenly, a lethargic, thin whisper crackled like autumn leaves in the silence of the room, and Toothless' head snapped up.

"Mom?" Hiccup's voice was so quiet that even Toothless, with his sharp hearing could only barely pick up what he was saying, "Thought you said I wouldn' have to go to the hosp'tal ever 'gain…"

Valka exchanged a concerned look with Stoick, before placing her head firmly atop of her son's.

"You're not in the hospital, love," she reassured him in a voice so tender Toothless felt his own heart melting, "You're home."

"M' home?"

"You're home. And I'm right here, and so's your dad, and Toothless is here, and so are Cloudjumper and Skullcrusher. We're all right here and we're not going to leave you."

Hiccup weakly nuzzled his nose further into her neck and curled his fingers imperceptibly in his dad's hand. Toothless kneaded his boy's thighs gently, mewing to let him know where he was. Hiccup's eyes brightened, very subtlety, but Toothless could still see that he was smiling.

"There's my bud," he said, and the cat bathed under the warm, loving glow those eyes casted over him. It was a special look from his boy reserved just for his best friend, a tiny green sun that said I love you without any words. That smile was the greatest reward the cat could ever receive, and he lived for it.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" Stoick asked, squeezing Hiccup's hand spasmodically.

Hiccup shook his head. "No. Just tired. M' so…so tired…"

Valka swallowed hard, and she tried desperately to control the quivering in her voice as she said, "Then go to sleep baby. Just sleep, okay? You'll…you'll feel better when you wake up."

And Hiccup hummed an assent, snuggled further into his mother's arms, and just like that, was asleep once more.

The rain kept falling, and Valka started singing a soft song Toothless had only heard her sing when Hiccup was at his most sick, his most frightened. The calm of the room was deafening, and the air grew so taut he felt as if it would snap. A wave was rising over their heads, preparing to crash down on them, and Toothless could only hunker down further in another attempt to warm his boy's body.

And then suddenly, Valka went very still, before her tears began to flow down her cheeks like the rain on the window outside. She clutched at Hiccup with all her strength, holding him as tight to her as she could manage. Toothless' ears perked in alarm, and then he glanced over at Stoick bowed his head and brought Hiccup's hand to his lips, kissing it. He sniffed the air, trying to discern what was happening and why his heart felt like it had just been ripped with terrible force from his chest.

The flame within Hiccup…he couldn't smell it anymore.

No, no no no, why couldn't he smell it? What was wrong? Something was wrong, terribly wrong, much more wrong than it had ever been before. Toothless began to shake, feeling that it was suddenly imperative that Hiccup wake up. Without thinking, he meowed with everything he had, pawing at Hiccup's legs, even using his claws a couple times even though he knew he wasn't supposed to. It wasn't working, why wasn't it working? Why wasn't Hiccup waking up? He stood up against Valka and slipped his head in the space where Hiccup's head was pressed protectively against her. He felt her lift her head in surprise, and Toothless took the opportunity to rub his face against his boy's desperately, trilling and chirping and howling. He licked his nose, his cheeks, everywhere he could reach.

_Hiccup please!_ Toothless begged, _You have to wake up, you're scaring me! Something's wrong, you don't smell right, please wake up, please, _please_! My boy, my precious boy, I love you, I lo-_

Suddenly, Stoick scooped him up in his arms, carrying him out of the room. Toothless cried in protest, squirming and reaching his forepaws toward the bed. No, he couldn't leave, he had to stay with Hiccup! His boy needed him! He _needed_ his best friend!

However, no matter how much he fought to get back to his boy, Stoick still won, taking the cat into his study and shutting the door behind him. Even when Toothless tried to spring away when the man sat down heavily in his office chair, he was held back.

That was when he realized that Hiccup's father was crying.

Shocked to his core, Toothless immediately went still, and didn't even protest when Stoick began to pet him with one hand, placing the other hand over his eyes in an attempt to stem the tears.

After a few more moments, Stoick managed to compose himself, rather poorly in Toothless' opinion, as his breaths were still coming out shuddery, before he gave the cat a farewell scratch behind the ears, stood up and walked out of the study. When Toothless tried to follow him, he was nudged back inside with a soft command to "stay there," and then the door was shut.

No, no! He couldn't be left in here! Hiccup was still out there, and he was cold and smelled wrong! Toothless had to make it better!

But this time, no matter how much he dug at the door, no matter how loud he cried, no one answered him. He even tried throwing himself at the door, even kept crying when his vocal chords had no more sound left to produce. It was okay though. For Hiccup, he would destroy himself again and again.

For the next few hours, Toothless laid next to the door with his ear pressed against it. He heard Hiccup's parents speaking sometimes, their voices wet, strained and hushed. He heard a car pull into the driveway and more voices he didn't recognize, that frightened him all the more. Why were they there? Were they going to hurt Hiccup?

Spurred on by this terrifying thought, Toothless scratched at the door with renewed vigor, howling at the top of his lungs with everything he had.

Finally, after the strange voices had gone away and the car had left the driveway, someone came and opened the door for him. Toothless didn't even bother to thank who it was that finally came to his rescue. The instant the door was opened he bolted out of the study, fluffy tail straight in the air, and trotted straight back into Hiccup's room. His yowls echoed down the hallway like a desperate, sad church bell. When he entered the room, his eyes instantly landed on the bed.

But Hiccup wasn't there.

Toothless tilted his head in confusion, and then with a _mrrr_ he leapt onto the mattress. The blankets were cold but still mussed, and still smelling strongly of his boy. He chirped rapidly in question, nose touching Hiccup's pillow as he bent his head to sniff it. It was cold too. Twitching his tail anxiously, Toothless turned around and tunneled under the blankets. Perhaps Hiccup was under there? But after a few minutes of searching, his head popped back out from underneath the blankets. Nothing.

He sighed, frustrated, and then his eyes landed on the desk. No one was sitting there now, but Hiccup could often be seen bent over his millions of papers that he liked to scratch on with that funny stick. Toothless thought it strange and pointless, figuring Hiccup could better spend his time by scratching behind his ears.

Toothless hopped off the bed and trotted over to the desk chair, jumping up onto it and then stepping onto the desk. It looked strange with the light turned off, empty and cold instead of warm and filled with his best friend's distracting, soothing muttering. Toothless hated it. It made the fur on his back prickle uneasily. He pawed at the lamp distractedly, trying to figure out how Hiccup turned it on and then giving up after a few pointless tries.

Okay, so Hiccup wasn't in his room. Wait, maybe he was in the bathroom! He was in there quite a lot, and Toothless didn't like to leave him alone. He was sick quite often in there, and the cat would never forgive himself if something happened to Hiccup under his watch.

Trilling anxiously, he raced towards the bathroom and slipped inside, but it too was dark and devoid of anyone. There was no Hiccup on the toilet (Toothless liked to hop on his lap even when his boy complained that his claws were sharp on his bare thighs. He also liked to climb inside Hiccup's downed pants and stare up at him, mewing innocently) and, putting his paws on the rim, no Hiccup in the bathtub either. Sometimes Hiccup liked to just fill up the tub with warm water and relax, and Toothless found that the water felt nice too, so he'd join him. His boy laughed and told him he was strange, but Toothless didn't really see what the problem was. Hiccup did it, why shouldn't he?

Growing worried, the cat padded out of the bathroom and began to search the rest of the house, calling all the while and hoping Hiccup would answer ("In here bud! Did you get lost again?"). But only his own echo answered him.

The black cat sighed again, tail drooping. Where was his boy? He had just been here! He had been so cold and weak; Toothless had to find him fast so that he could work on warming him up again. Why hadn't he woken up when Toothless had licked his face? Whenever he wanted Hiccup to wake up, that _always_ worked. Something was very wrong, and all Toothless knew was that he needed to get to Hiccup.

Wait…perhaps he was at the…what did his boy's mother call it, the hospital? Yes, of course, that made sense! Hiccup went to the hospital sometimes because he was very sick, but he always came home within a few days, and he always came home feeling better. Yes, that had to be where he was.

Satisfied, Toothless trotted back into Hiccup's room and curled up determinedly on the pillow, breathing in his boy's comforting scent. It made Toothless think of sunny days and puffs of steam in the bathtub, of belly rubs and walks in the park. He lived to protect Hiccup and keep him happy. Without him…he had nothing.

But Hiccup would be back. He always came back. And Toothless intended to be waiting right here for him when he did.

000

A week went by. Two weeks. Still no Hiccup.

Toothless mewed and paced in the living room, genuinely scared. Hiccup had never been gone this long before. And the cat made sure he hadn't missed him; he spent his days asleep in his boy's bed, constantly checking the places he usually found him in the house. When they all turned up empty, back to the bed he'd go. Whenever he heard footsteps approaching the doorway, he'd lift his head and perk his ears, meowing excitedly, until it would turn out to be one of Hiccup's parents and then he'd sink back down again.

A couple of days ago the house had been filled with people dressed in black, and Toothless had hated it. He had hid under Hiccup's bed until they left, listening to the hushed voices of Hiccup's parents and the soft murmuring voices of other people he didn't recognize. Toothless was glad Hiccup hated large crowds and instead chose to spend house parties locked in his room. Toothless was always terrified he would lose him among all those people and he'd never find him again.

Soon enough, everyone left and the house was quiet again. And Toothless was still alone.

_Hiccup, please, _he begged, crawling out from under the bed and hopping onto the windowsill, _You're really worrying me. Please come home. Everyone's sad here and I think it's because they're worried too. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you not here…I can't…_

He stared up at stars, hoping they would answer his prayer and produce the one he longed to see. When they didn't, he huffed and jumped back onto the floor, before popping back up onto Hiccup's desk. There were several images behind glass that lined the back that Toothless would sometimes knock over and then get scolded for it. There were pictures of Hiccup up here too, usually next to the pretty blond girl with soft hands. She used to come over to the house quite a bit, and then one day she stopped and Hiccup spent most of his days asleep afterwards. That was when he stopped eating and grooming himself, and started smelling like tears all the time. Toothless wondered what happened to her.

Hiccup was smiling in every picture, and the cat could almost hear his voice, feel his hands. It wasn't fair! Toothless was being good and patient. He was wishing as hard as he could every night that he would wake up in the morning and find Hiccup snuggled against him in bed. Without his boy…Toothless felt like half of his soul was missing, and his chest ached in way he couldn't stand.

But for now, Hiccup's face was in these pictures behind glass, and that was enough to soothe the ache for now. Toothless purred and rubbed his face against the frames, licking the glass and wishing he was licking Hiccup's cheek, or his hair.

_You're my best friend. You have to come home, you just have to. You always do…always…_

000

"Just try it, Stoick. It can't hurt. You've seen that poor cat wandering around the house crying and checking every room. He's looking for him."

"I know. Maybe this will give him some peace."

Toothless' ears twitched at the sound of their voices, and he burrowed further into the blanket Stoick had laid on the bed a few days ago. It was the one Hiccup usually curled up under when he sat on the couch, the extra soft one with the stripes. Toothless had his nose buried in it now. His boy's scent was beginning to fade from his sheets, and that terrified him because it was another testament as to how long he'd been gone.

Just then, Stoick entered the room, and Toothless lifted his head and _prrrip_ed a greeting. Hiccup's father seemed to falter for a minute and sway, as if he had been struck when he had crossed into his son's room. Then he recovered himself and smiled down at Toothless, scratching the top of his head.

"You're a good boy," Stoick whispered, "Loyal to a fault. Hiccup is…_was_ lucky to have you."

His eyes glimmered wetly for a moment, and then he sniffed and quickly placed something on the pillow. He opened it, and Toothless recognized the light-box Hiccup usually had sitting on his lap. He'd stare at it for hours, fingers moving across the keyboard like crazy and the cat could never see what he found so interesting about it. He did find out that it was warm though, and liked to drape himself across it. He also found it was easy to take Hiccup's attention away from it when he blocked the light coming from the box, or when he walked across the keys.

Stoick made some ticking noises on the board full of keys, slipped in a disk in a slot on the side, and then put the box back down on the pillow.

Suddenly, Toothless heard a voice he hadn't heard in far too long coming from it.

"Mom, you have the camera? Come look at this…"

Toothless' ears perked and he shot bolt upright, his bushy tail straight as an arrow. He stared at the screen intently, unable to believe his ears.

"I'm coming Hiccup…"

And Hiccup was on the screen, sitting in the tub and obviously trying to hold back laughter. Toothless saw himself perched on his boy's shoulder, licking his hair with his tail floating the water.

"Look at this," his boy said, flicking his eyes to the soaking cat.

Valka's disembodied voice was laughing as she said, "Oh my God…"

"Yeah, he just hopped in the tub with me and climbed up there. Hey bud, what're you doing?"

Toothless began yowling with joy. Hiccup, his boy, he was here! He bounded over to the pillow and rubbed his face against the screen desperately, purring so hard he thought the whole neighborhood could hear him. Oh but what did it matter, that was his precious boy and that was his voice, and he was calling him his bud and oh…

"Hiccup, did you give him a Mohawk?"

Toothless on the screen turned his face toward Valka, _mrrr_-ing innocently with wet little spikes on his head. Hiccup laughed, and Toothless on his bed cried loudly in response.

"My cat has identity issues," he said, and shrugged the shoulder Toothless was on. "You're strange, you know that?"

"_Prrriiip?"_

"Yeah, you are."

He leaned down and kissed the wet head, causing him to lean into it and purr like mad, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was shattering the stereotype of his species.

Toothless wound around the box, crying and crying and not finding the will to stop. He pawed at the screen when he saw Hiccup's face, as if he could touch him, and licked it when he heard his voice. He didn't even notice when Stoick left, nor did he see the small smile or the tears leaking from the man's eyes. Hiccup was there and he was all that mattered.

His boy had come home.

Eventually, he laid down on the keyboard, snuggling close to the screen and closing his eyes. Exhaustion born from relief pulled at him, and as he began to drift, the warmth from the box transformed into warmth from Hiccup's lap. The wonderfully familiar voice murmured over his head, and Hiccup was scratching over his tail in a way in which Toothless was forced to lift his rear. And all the while, he purred and purred, eventually twisting around so that he could climb up Hiccup's chest. Kind, green eyes set in a face he loved more than his own heart met his own, and Toothless leaned forward and kissed his nose with elation. Hiccup laughed softly and scratched the sides of his neck, pressing his forehead against Toothless' own.

"Hey bud, I missed you too. I'm here! There's my good boy. I love you, you know that? I love you so much…"

"_MrrrrOOOWW!"_

_I love you too._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A continuation of the last oneshot, but don't worry this one's happier lol. **

The wheels of the Suburban crunched on the gravel slowly before finally coming to a halt. The engine was cut, the driver's side door opened, and Valka stepped out of the car.

She had forgotten what lovely, peaceful places cemeteries were.

Valka walked around to the trunk and pulled out a few flower pots as well as a trowel. The instant she did, a loud _mooowww_ blasted from the backseat.

"Alright, alright," she breathed in exasperation, but couldn't quite manage to keep the smile off of her face, "At least let me get the pots out of the car."

A clipped mew that broke off into some annoyed grumbling was her answer, and she shook her head, before slamming the trunk door closed.

Balancing clay pots and several unplanted asters was a difficult task, but Valka was (…well, used to be) a mother and she could handle anything. At least that's what she thought. But once she put her gardening things down and actually stepped back to look at the gravestone she was trying to make look not so forlorn, she started second guessing herself.

She never thought she'd live to see her son's name on a gravestone before hers.

Yet, there it was, etched in stone. The family name "Haddock" was in huge letters at the top. Valka and Stoick had bought the plot with the intention of having them all being buried beneath it someday. And in the lower left hand corner in much smaller letters…oh, such small letters they were, but they left such a deep laceration on her heart…in that corner was the name "Hadley H," and underneath that was the year he was born followed by the year he died.

And anyone who saw it would know he had died much too young.

Valka's breath caught in her chest for just a moment, before a loud yowling in the car pulled her back to her senses.

"Coming," she said hastily, and finally opened the door of the car.

Toothless hopped down from the backseat, red harness stark against his black fur, equally red leash trailing behind him. He immediately set to sniffing the grass curiously, and Valka took that opportunity to pick up the end of his leash and put her arm through the loop at the end. Satisfied that the cat wasn't going to run away on her, she knelt down and set to work on planting the flowers.

"Hey baby," she whispered, "I know, I feel like I come here too much, but I saw these asters and I just had to…they looked like they belonged here. And I brought someone to see you."

Toothless had laid down on his back, stretching in the sun luxuriously. He seemed to know she was talking about him at that moment though, and twisted around slightly to regard her, head still upside down.

"It's summer now," she continued, "But you probably see that. Oh Hiccup, you've only been gone for a few months, but it feels like years. Or maybe I've just aged ten years in the last few months, I don't know. Your dad too. Oh, your father, he just seems so lost lately. He used to put all of his energy into protecting you and figuring out how to make you well again, and now he doesn't have to do that anymore, so now I don't think he knows what to do with himself."

Valka's throat felt tight, but she ignored it. Toothless' harness clinked beside her, and she sighed fondly at Hiccup's best friend. He was a relic of her son, one of the things he had treasured above all else. She was glad she got to keep this last piece of him.

"Toothless misses you," she breathed, "He…still goes through the house checking every room. I think he's looking for you. Poor thing, I don't think he's realized that you're not coming home, or if he has, he hasn't accepted it. We have to play home videos of you for him every night, or he won't stop crying. He falls asleep right next to the laptop. I think he likes hearing your voice."

Oh, these damn stinging eyes. She was so tired of crying, but that was all she seemed to do anymore. The littlest things set her off; her first day back to work after Hiccup's death, for example. The instant she had walked back into her office at the university, her eyes had landed on a picture of her, Stoick, and Hiccup they had taken when he was fifteen, and she had lost it. She couldn't look at anything anymore without being reminded of her baby in some way. His presence was constant in her mind and heart, and the only impossible thought that repeated in her head like a soul-crushing litany was that she wanted her little boy back.

If she could just hold him to her one more time…hear him call her "mama…"

If she could just know for sure that right now, he was happy.

Valka sniffed, and began to work more quickly, more forcefully, as if to deny the fact that her arms were beginning to tremble and her eyes were filling up with tears.

"Oh sweetheart, I wish you could give me some sign that you're okay now, that you're not hurting anymore and that…you found Astrid. I'll bet she was waiting for you, wasn't she? I like to think so. I like to think she was waiting right there and wouldn't pass on until you came with her. I just don't want you to be alone, you hated being alone…"

Valka's throat closed, and she found that she couldn't speak anymore. So she finished planting the flowers in the corner by Hiccup's name, and stood up, brushing off her pants.

"Asters for Astrid," she nodded stiffly, "I'm happy her parents let us bury her with you. Even if it was out of guilt…at least they did their daughter one kindness in the end."

Her eyes flicked down to the evidence. Underneath Hiccup's name and dates read "Astrid A. Hofferson," as well as her birth and death dates.

And between their two names, a tiny heart was etched into the stone.

Valka leaned against the car and let herself cry for a few minutes, tired of wishing for things that could never be. There was no comfort for her anymore other than the knowledge that someday, someplace, she'd see Hiccup again.

Suddenly, Toothless began howling at the top of his lungs and the leash pulled sharply against her arm. Valka caught it just in time; she'd never forgive herself if she lost him. And when her eyes rested on him, something very strange…and very wonderful…met her eyes.

Toothless was looking up in the air, circling and circling and _mooowww_-ing with everything he had. His whole body was vibrating with a purr that sounded more like a racecar engine than a sound that could have from a cat. He hopped up on his hind legs and made a move like he was trying to lean against something, but there was nothing there but empty air, so he fell forwards. However, the joyful look didn't disappear off his face. His green eyes were dilated with elation, and the whole time he kept his gaze fixed in the air.

And then he did something extraordinary that made Valka's heart drop straight to her toes.

Being sick quite often usually saw Hiccup at home with little to do. So, he took it upon himself to teach Toothless some tricks, seeing as how he was a very smart cat and all, and Toothless seemed to love doing them. He even taught Toothless to say some words, or at least meow in a way that sounded like he was saying words. She was convinced that the cat thought he was a person, and was very miffed that he couldn't speak properly with Hiccup, so he was eager to learn anything akin to human speech.

And right now, he was crowing, in his own way but also very clear to her, the word "hello" over and over again. And the jubilation in his voice was unmistakable.

Before she could even begin to ponder what had brought out this sudden, violent happiness in Hiccup's cat, a warm breeze brushed by her face, and she heard the distinct sound of laughter close to her ears. But there was no one else in the cemetery, at least no one close enough to produce the laughter she had just heard.

Besides, that sounded remarkably like her son's laugh.

Valka was instantly alert, her eyes wide, tears being dried by the sudden breeze. There still wasn't anything in front of her, but Toothless continued his circling and trilling. That was when Valka noticed he wasn't looking at the sky; he was looking at a fixed point above his head.

Like he was seeing someone that she couldn't.

Valka nearly jumped when she caught a hint of familiar musk. Oh, she'd recognize that smell anywhere. She had held it by her nose as the person it belonged to cried and begged for solace in a place where there was none. It was still on the blankets and shirts at home in her son's room, which Valka couldn't help but bury her nose in every so often, terrified of the day when it would finally fade away.

It was so clear now. Toothless was clearly looking up into someone's face, wrapping himself around their legs, and unable to contain how happy he was to see them. There was only one person that ever got Toothless to speak, to look into their eyes like they were one being separated into two souls.

"Hiccup?" she breathed, "Baby, are you here?"

The wind blew a little stronger in response, making the freshly planted asters dance excitedly. Valka put her hands over her mouth, unable to believe it, unable to do anything but laugh and cry anew. There was more laughter by her ears, more light, warm breezes that danced with their own life. There was an energy around her that was so potent she couldn't even begin to describe it. All she knew was that it made her heart beat faster, more airily, as if the breeze was blowing inside of her and making it lighter than it had been in many months.

"Mama…" the air rang around her, "Mama!"

"Hiccup!" Valka cried, and wrapped her arms around herself.

Just then, Toothless trotted over to the gravestone and hopped up on top of it, nosing at something in front of him. The sun shone down just right, and Valka swore she saw a fuzzy figure sitting on top of the gravestone, swinging his legs and scratching under Toothless' chin. A pair of green eyes flashed warmly in its face, and he fixed them on Valka.

Hiccup's mother was rendered speechless by both her extreme joy and shock, but she found words weren't necessary anyway. The figure she knew to be her precious boy turned to look over his shoulder, and, beyond all the odds, there was another spectral image behind him. Except, this one had blue eyes.

"Astrid?" she wondered.

More laughter on the wind, two voices this time, and she could have sworn she saw Hiccup nod.

"You found her," Valka said, relieved beyond mortal comprehension, "You're not alone. You're okay…"

Hiccup didn't do anything but stare at her for a minute, before the fuzzy image raised its hand and, to her utter amazement, began to wave slowly. Valka couldn't help herself; she waved back.

"Bye baby," she whispered, "I love you."

And, she could have been going crazy, but she could have sworn she saw both of them smile.

Then the sun winked away, and the wind picked up again to carry over the pine trees in the distance, taking the laughter with it. But not all of it, of course. Picking up Toothless from off the gravestone and holding him against her chest, she knew that some of the laughter was staying in her heart.


	8. Chapter 8

For the first time in many days, Valka heard her son calling for her. Well, it really wasn't calling, per se; just a few pathetic whimpers that sounded like her name, but she didn't care. She was on her feet instantly and racing into his room. She always slept in the bedroom with the door open anymore, just in case.

She was at Hiccup's side in a few moments, flicking on the lamp on his desk and bending over him. She brushed his hair back from his forehead, which was damp with sweat, and yet he was shivering, though it was weak, like his body just wasn't strong enough to put forth the energy it took to warm up. He was never warm anymore, no matter how many layers they put on him.

"Mama," he said plaintively, tongue clumsy and arms reaching for her before he had opened his eyes, "Mama, I don't want to go back there. It was dark, it was too dark."

Valka knelt down and pulled him to her, sensing his fear even though she wasn't sure what caused it. His arms were too weak to hold onto her anymore. There was no strength left in his body. It made her want to cry; he was only twenty, he was supposed to be at the peak of his strength in his lifetime. But he could barely lift his head from the pillow, barely stay awake long enough to drink when offered water, and barely find the energy to speak. Instead, all he could do was limply accept her embrace and nuzzle against her neck, his arms useless by his sides.

"It's alright," she soothed, "It was just a dream. Just a bad dream." She tried not to think about how many of those he had had lately. His mind was unravelling like a spool of thread dropped on the ground, producing strange, horrible images to torture him with and it terrified her.

"No," Hiccup insisted, "Not a dream. It wasn't. I was falling and there was no bottom. Finally I just stopped, and I was on a path. I walked on it for a while, and it was dark and freezing cold, and I tried calling for someone, but I was alone. I thought my ears would burst because it was so quiet.

"But then I saw a point of gold and blue in front of me, and it opened up more and more gradually. When I got closer, I saw Astrid standing there."

She froze, but kept stroking his hair, encouraging him to keep going.

"She was so warm, and she was smiling and I was _so happy_ to see her again, I started crying. I hugged her so tightly and I didn't want to let go. But after a bit, I told her I was scared and I didn't want to be in the darkness anymore, and I took her hand and tugged on it. I asked her to come home with me because I missed her, and"-

A small cry escaped him, and Valka clung to him a little tighter, suddenly realizing what had happened. Hiccup had started to die, and then he woke up from it just in time. She had nearly lost her baby and she hadn't been here! If he slipped away while she wasn't here…

"It's okay," she told him, burying her face in his hair. She didn't know how to respond to that. "It's alright now. I won't let you get cold, and I won't let you be alone."

To testify to this, she pulled his thick quilts up further around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

"I don't want to go back there," Hiccup mumbled, clearly unsettled by the experience, "But I want Astrid! She said she couldn't come with me, not even when I started crying and begged her to and told her I loved her, that I _needed _her and that she _had_ to come back. That's when she started crying too, and she said, 'Please Hiccup, don't cry. I love you too, please don't cry.'"

"Shh, shh." She rocked him back and forth, tears stinging her eyes, "You're home and you're safe. Mama's got you, mama's right here."

And then he said something that broke her heart.

"Astrid said I was dying and that it was okay to go with her, that we could be together again if I went with her. I told her that I didn't want to leave my parents, and she said she understood. But then she let go of my hand, and I was cold and by myself again! Mama, I want to be with her, but I'm scared…I'm so scared…"

With that, Valka crawled onto the bed with him and laid down beside him. He was so cold and thin, his hands like ice and his veins so visible beneath his almost translucent skin. She wrapped herself around him, denial more powerful now than it had been when she first found out her son was dying, and more shockingly, that he wanted to die. To be with Astrid. And now…

"Don't worry," she reassured him. It was just like always, just like when he woke up terrified and sick in the middle of the night. Just like all those times in the emergency room and every hospital visit. She said the same thing to him now as she always did then.

"I won't leave you," she whispered, and tucked him against the security of her. "I won't let you go."

000

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale…

…

Valka's heart began to pound in her chest, feeling Hiccup's slow, steady breaths against her cheek. No, it couldn't be now, not yet, she wasn't ready-

Inhale.

Thank God. She hadn't left Hiccup all night, and was still with him as the dawn faded to late morning. It was raining and cold outside, leaving a wet feeling that settled into her bones. She kept Hiccup wrapped tightly in his blankets a result, holding him against her body and settling his head on her shoulder. He had fallen asleep again about an hour after Valka had come into his room whether he meant to or not, and had remained asleep for the most part, only waking up for a few minutes at a time before closing his eyes again.

She knew she didn't have much time left with him.

Stoick was sitting on the other side of the bed, holding his son's hand, ever the silent, supportive rock that he always had been. Toothless was laying across Hiccup, covering as much of him as he could. He probably felt how cold Hiccup was too and was trying to warm him up.

But it was no use.

Hiccup woke up for the last time around noon, wondering where he was and who he was with. But he was reassured as soon as Valka told him that she and his dad were there, and so was Toothless. When Stoick asked him if he was in any pain, Valka was beyond relieved when he said he wasn't.

"M' tired though," he said, voice thick and slurred, "M' so tired…"

And Valka could feel his exhaustion bleeding into her. Every one of his organs was too weak to function, and she could practically hear them all shutting off one by one. His heart kept skipping beats, slowing and then speeding up, then slowing again. Even his brain was too weak to keep him conscious for long, his lungs growing tired of the effort it took to suck in breath after breath.

His eyes looked so heavy when she drew back to look at his face, and his vision was clearly unfocused. Valka felt her throat close, her instincts tearing her apart. One part of her was screaming at her not to let him go back to sleep, while another part could see how badly he wanted to go back to sleep and wanted him to rest. She wanted him to live so that she would have something to protect and love, and she wanted him to just finally slip away so that his suffering would end.

"Go back to sleep, baby," she said at last, her voice wavering, "You'll…you'll feel better when you wake up."

He would. When he woke up, he would never feel the pain of a mortal body again. He'd be free from suffering, and free from pain in the first time in his life. He'd be at peace, real, utter peace that the mind can't comprehend when it's on earth. More than anything, she wanted that for him.

It didn't mean her eyes didn't fill with tears when his eyes closed, the last time she would ever see their beautiful green depths. But they were so dull now, so dull. She forced herself to remember when they would shine up at her, full of wonder and life. She squeezed her son a little closer, holding him more determinedly against her, as if she could feel his life slipping through her fingers at that very moment.

Perhaps, if she held onto him tight enough, she could keep his soul from leaving his body. If she loved him hard enough, perhaps it would undo all the damage that had savaged him beyond repair and miraculously bring him back to sleek, energetic health.

Without meaning to, she began to sing.

It was a song about long journeys and coming home at last, a song she sang to Hiccup as a child when he grew upset or frightened. A song about belonging with your family no matter how far away you went in life, and Valka found herself stopping several times to kiss Hiccup's face. It was a last, desperate expression of her love, the last chance she would get to solidify the bond between her and her son.

He was the most important thing in her life and he was going to a place where she couldn't follow him or protect him anymore.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…exhale…inhale…

…exhale…..inhale…..exhale…..

…

Valka waited. And waited. And waited for the sound that indicated Hiccup was sucking air back into his lungs. But it never came. It wouldn't. That was it; he had breathed his last breath, and her cheek was still warm from it. But no, she still wasn't ready, Hiccup couldn't go, he was too young, too beautiful, innocent, crass, stubborn and _the world couldn't really be so cruel_.

Valka broke, pulling in a shuddering sob and held Hiccup impossibly closer. The world fell away and only consisted of her and her baby, the one life she needed to protect above all else. And she had failed. His warm cheeks and neck would soon grow cold, and that knowledge for some reason possessed her to pull his blankets tighter around him, trying to stave off the chill and beat back death even when it had already taken what it came for.

She didn't know how long she sat there, crying her eyes onto her boy's face, but eventually Stoick was standing above her, a hand on her shoulder and his eyes red-rimmed. Tears were running down his cheeks.

"Val," he said, his voice strangled, "The coroners are here. It's time to let him go."

A fierce, wild anger stabbed at her heart, and desperately she curled her body about her son's, crying harder than ever and holding him so tightly her arms began to tremble.

"No!" she whimpered, "No, they can't have him!"

"Val…"

"_No!_ I've lost all the babies I've ever had, I don't want to lose him too!"

Stoick shook his head, more tears spilling over. "Love, he's beyond our reach now. It's alright, he's safe now. He's…he's with Astrid."

"But how do you know that? I have to protect him, and now he's too far away for me to protect." She was sobbing hard, her back shuddering as she tucked Hiccup's head under her chin. "I have to protect him…my boy, my baby boy…"

Stoick touched her face, gently, so gently that she quieted for a minute and glanced up at him again. A small, watery smile kept wavering on his face as he said, "You have to have faith that he found her. She's taking care of him now, you know she'll protect him. You know she'll love him for us until the day we see him again. It's okay Val…"

She sniffed pitifully, and nuzzled her face against her son's. No, this wasn't him anymore; it was a shell, an empty vessel that had always caused Hiccup pain, always made him suffer and cry. And he was free of it now, free and happy. But even so, this body held the face she had kissed so many times, the cheeks she had wiped tears away from, the lips that smiled and said things that made her laugh, and the eyebrows that were always so expressive. In the background, she heard Toothless crying and scratching at the door of the office, where Stoick must have locked him up. It only made her tears flow harder; poor Toothless. Hiccup was all he ever lived for. What would he do now that his life's purpose was no longer here?

Stoick was still looking down at her, sympathetically but expectantly. Valka knew she had to leave, and she commanded herself to let go of Hiccup, but her body wouldn't obey her. Her instincts to protect were too strong, her love too steadfast and deep, and Hiccup was still warm against her body…

With a sob, she stood, carefully working herself out from under Hiccup, and tenderly lowering him to the mattress. His head lolled to the side gently, cradled by his pillow. Valka then took his hands and arranged them on his chest, and then immediately set to work arranging his blankets over him and around him. She pulled his quilts up to his chin, tears flowing rapidly down her face. Her vision was so blurry that she could barely see what she was doing, but she felt her husband's eyes on her the entire time. She tucked the blankets around him, unable to leave him laying on top of them. It looked so unnatural, and her automatic thought was that she didn't want Hiccup to get cold, and she had to keep him comfortable. Once she was finished, she brushed his bangs back from his forehead, and leaned down to kiss his forehead, once, twice, three times. She kissed his nose, his cheeks, and leaned her forehead against his, still shuddering with sobs.

"Valka," Stoick said again, his voice so soft she almost didn't hear him.

She flinched and wailed afresh, before squeezing her son around his shoulders one last time.

"It's okay now, Hiccup," she whispered, "It's alright. You don't need to be scared, okay? Just…find Astrid. She'll take care of you. She won't let you be alone. But if you need me or your dad, we won't be far away. You just rest now."

Her throat closed so her last works came out in a wet squeak. "Goodbye baby."

Valka placed one more kiss on his forehead and abruptly got up and walked over to her husband, who ushered her to the doorway. But before she left, Valka glanced back at Hiccup's still body one more time. His blankets were drowning him, and his face was frozen in an expression of deep sleep. It was a position she'd find him in every night, and if she allowed herself to believe it, it really did appear that she had just settled him down for a nap. She could almost see the sleepy flush adorning his ghost-white face, hear his soft snores, and ignore the fact that his lips were no longer rosy and instead turning very pale. Valka allowed this fantasy to fill her mind before she finally left the room, unable to look back.

If she turned to look back, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from throwing herself across Hiccup's body and demanding to be buried with him.

And later that night, when sleep eluded her viciously, she returned to her son's room. It was empty now, save for his faithful cat curled up on his pillow. Running her fingers across his sheets, she found that they had turned cold and were still mussed. Careful of Toothless, tears trailing down her face, she lay down on the bed and pulled the blankets up over her head. And, for that night and several nights afterward, Valka buried herself in the dark and cried, taking in the musky scent of her boy and whimpering his name.

Perhaps, miraculously, one of these times he would hear her and come back.


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm scared, Hiccup."

"Hey, shh, don't be. I'm here, aren't I? And these doctors know what they're doing. They're going to make you better."

Hiccup, who was still lying next to Astrid in her bed in the hospital, pressed his forehead to Astrid's, nuzzling along the side of her face. She reached up with one arm and wrapped it around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

"It's going to be alright," Hiccup murmured into her hair, "You always told me that whenever I went into my surgeries, and you know how terrified I was before every one of them."

Astrid's shoulders shook with soft laughter. Hiccup was as afraid of surgery as a person possibly could be, basically being rendered catatonic whenever even the word was brought up. Yet he had endured so many of them, so many because Astrid had said those same words to him. She had said the same things Hiccup had told her last night as he had twined himself around her and held her so tightly that she couldn't breathe. But this time, it was Hiccup who tucked her head under his chin and let her bury her face in his chest, Hiccup who drew the blankets tighter around the two of them, Hiccup who had assured her over and over again that this surgery would be worth it. Removing some of the tumors in her brain would be one step closer to sending her cancer into remission.

Yet, Hiccup's body remained tense and rigid throughout the entire night, and when she had woken up, she didn't miss the dark circles under his eyes. And she knew it was because, even though he wasn't the one going into surgery, he was desperately afraid.

Afraid for her.

Oh, he was being so irrationally stupid, and he knew it. However, he couldn't help but imagine the same things for her that he feared: what if she woke up in the middle of surgery? What if it didn't work? Or…what if the surgery backfired and did more harm than good? It was already killing Hiccup to see her so lethargic on her bad days when he knew what she was like on her good days. Those were the days he would catch glimpses of her old life, such as when he would drag him out for a jog at six in the morning, or try to get him to play badminton with her (both of which he sucked at in a manner so epic bards would have no problem writing poems about it). But her face would get so ruddy and she would bounce around him like an overly-excited puppy, and it was so cute that he couldn't help but encourage her.

He wanted more of those days so badly.

It would be alright.

It had to be.

_It would be._

He began to chew on his lower lip, and Hiccup saw Astrid's eyes flick almost imperceptibly down and then back up to his face. Leaning away from him, Astrid pulled down the neck of her hospital gown, exposing the tiny, silver dragon with his wings spread in flight resting on her collarbone. Hiccup smiled down at it, draping an arm over her waist.

"I'm glad they're letting me wear this necklace through my surgery," she said, running her pointer finger along the delicate chain around her neck.

Hiccup shook his head slightly. "I can't believe you actually like that thing. I mean, the jeweler kept assuring me that I was making the right choices when I picked out the jewels and the design and everything, but-"

"Stop," she kissed the base of his neck, and again examined the tiny, blue gems that had been set into the dragon's eyes. "It's lovely. You really have a good eye for jewelry, Hiccup. And blue's my favorite color."

He blushed and lowered his gaze, but the pleased smile didn't leave his face.

"Besides," Astrid added, "Whenever I look at it, I get to remember the kid who gave it to me. And I get to remember that he's the person who reminded me how much I used to love magic and dragons when I was little."

She leaned forward and kissed him, and soft, gentle peck, before she laid her head on the pillow again and Hiccup followed her, draping himself over her protectively. It was ironic; physically, he couldn't protect her from much, not even a cold draft, but the action was so instinctive, so ingrained, that he couldn't prevent himself from doing it. It might have been desperation too. He just wanted her to be safe, and the only time he knew for sure she was safe was when he had his arms around her, her soft breaths tickling his ear. For a moment, Hiccup found himself uselessly wishing so hard that it was painful, that he could just live in this little bubble of time for the rest of his life.

"Hey," he said after a minute, "How about this summer we just drop everything and go backpacking through Europe? You and me, just the two of us?"

Astrid sat up abruptly, her eyes shining and wide, all but trembling with sudden excitement. "Really? You mean it? I mean, Hiccup, will you be able to handle it?"

He stared up her, green eyes alive with an impish light, and he confessed, "Well, yeah, I think so. I hope so, considering I already bought the plane tickets and everything."

She gasped, and then managed to sputter, "So, will we get to go to Norway? And Ireland? And all those places?"

He laughed, "Norway's the first stop, m'lady. Our flight leaves in June."

She paused, open mouthed, and then with a squeal and wiggle, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing all the breath from his lungs. Hiccup swore he felt his ribs crack too. After a moment, he recovered and returned the hug just as strongly, burying his nose in her neck.

"Thank you, Astrid," he said solemnly, "Thank you. I'm so lucky to have you, you know that?"

"I know you are," Astrid agreed over his shoulder.

Just then, the nurse came in, causing both of them to break from their embrace to regard her. When she said it was time to bring Astrid in to surgery, a rush of fear rocked Hiccup so hard he lost his breath and his vision turned white for a minute. He gripped her hard, crushing her to his chest, unable to stop the cold sweat that pricked at every one of his pores.

"It'll be fine," Astrid said, "Isn't that what you just told me? They know what they're doing."

"I know." Hiccup's back rose and fell in an explosive breath, and a subtle vibration born from adrenaline had taken up residence in his frame. Even his gut quivered from it, threatening to send his breakfast back up his throat. "I know. I'll be right here waiting when they bring you back out."

She gave him one last hug, and pecked him on the lips before Hiccup got off the bed so that the nurse could wheel her away. Astrid saluted him, and then broke into a giggle when he saluted back and wrinkled his nose playfully at her. Then, she disappeared out the doors of the pediatric center and out of Hiccup's sight.

He sighed, suddenly feeling very out of place, strangely, considering all the time he had spent in the pediatrics section of the hospital. He felt very alone, standing there in the middle of the floor with no company other than the shadows being cast against the windows. Suddenly, a few, shadowy flecks began to flash at his feet, and Hiccup turned around to look out the window.

It was snowing.

One side of his mouth twitched upward, and for a while, he just stood there in silence, being caressed by the weak light of the December sun, his shivering heart being lifted by the sight of the snow. It was so soft and timid, floating silently and gently to the brown earth.

"The first snow of winter," Hiccup mumbled to himself, "Nice Astrid, you just missed seeing it."

He sighed and drew himself up, coming to stand in front of the window and then lean his head against the cold glass, gaze drifting to the tree line and the endless, grey sky far beyond.

Soon, he and Astrid would fly off on their own for the very first time. They'd be under a different sky, a different set of stars, living by a different set of rules not defined by the cage of their ill bodies. They'd be _free._

He closed his eyes and imagined it, tasting the word on his tongue, soul lifting and swelling as he did so.

000

His parents arrived not too much later, keeping him company in the waiting room throughout the duration of Astrid's twelve hour long surgery. Hiccup paced most of the time, like an animal caught in the cage of a hunter waiting to be taken out and skinned. At the insistence of his mother, he managed to nibble on some crackers, all the while keeping his eyes locked on the door that led to the back of the hospital. Every once in a while, a nurse would come out and update them on Astrid's progress, telling them approximately how much longer she had before she was finished, how she was doing, etc. Even though they kept saying she was doing fine, Hiccup wouldn't relax until he could see her again and ascertain that for himself.

Astrid's mother showed up at one point for a little while, and Hiccup didn't bother to hide his nasty glare at her. Her parents had barely done anything for Astrid since she was diagnosed with her cancer, mostly just ignoring her. Her mother looked pale, drawn and anxious now, and that really added fuel to the fire burning in his gut. What right did she have to be worried about her daughter now? What about all the times when Astrid had to have blood drawn, or go into chemo, or spent her days too weak to get out of bed because she felt so wretched? Where was her mother then? No, it was Hiccup and his family that stayed with her, Hiccup who barely held back tears because he couldn't stand seeing her so lifeless, Hiccup who clung to her in a pitiful attempt to transfer his meager body heat to her, knowing the effort was useless because Astrid had always been better at warming him up because he was always so cold all the time…

After a while, his all-consuming anxiety began to take its toll, and it was almost as if he could feel his intestines swelling and twisting within him, slowly turning into a bonfire. The instant he told his mother, Valka drew him down beside her and told him to try napping so that his body would calm itself and hopefully counteract the flare-up. His heart was twitching and hammering a mile a minute, but at the mention of sleep, he found he was too weak to resist. He laid himself beside her on the couch and put his head in her lap, and was dozing within minutes.

For some reason, that made Valka sigh heavily with relief, even more so when Stoick came to sit beside and draw her against him, careful not to disturb Hiccup. Her son's anxiety was creeping into her very bones like a virus, spreading throughout the room and turning the air in her lungs into lead. Hiccup kept twitching and murmuring unhappily in his sleep, his sides fluttering rapidly off and on, a subtle quiver taking up residence in his core. Valka tried to shush him, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing his shoulders, Stoick even finding a blanket and draping it over him. But even when he quieted down for a few minutes, the black, fetid air his uneasy dreams cast around them didn't disappear. Instead, it rose like a wave and pushed the little family towards some tiny precipice poised over a fathomless chasm, where their only options were to jump or have their bones crushed to dust under the weight of it.

Valka could only grip Hiccup's shivering, icy fingers and press herself more tightly to Stoick, unable to comprehend it all.

Suddenly, Hiccup shifted sharply and began to whimper like a dog forsaken by its family. His fingers grasped for something in front of him, and his belly clenched and became hard under Valka's hand. She gasped in surprise, and then gasped again when Hiccup began to speak.

"Astrid no," he breathed, "No no no nooooo don't go! Please, you can't go, you have to stay. I can't breathe, Astrid…"

Tears began to dampen his eyelashes, before they slipped, hot and silvery, down across the bridge of his nose. "_Astrid!_ I can't breathe! Don't leave me! I love you…you have to stay because I love you and I won't be able to breathe if you go…"

He shuddered, and choked out her name one last time, before his breathing began to calm again, as if someone were putting him under a spell, and his movements ceased altogether. He loosened like a puppet with its strings cut mid-performance and fell into deep sleep before Valka and Stoick's eyes. It was the most bizarre thing they had ever seen.

Just then, one of the surgeons came into the room, causing both parents to look up simultaneously. He looked very pale and deeply shocked, like he had glimpsed the gates of Hell before being thrown back in the real world once more.

There were a few drops of blood spattered on his face.

"Astrid?" Stoick asked, "Is she alright?"

The nurse bowed his head, and took a deep breath.

Outside, the snow covered the world in white, icy, utter silence.

000

Hiccup woke many hours later, feeling very disoriented. The watery dawn light coaxed him into opening his eyes, and he saw that he was still in the hospital, lying on one of the empty beds in the pediatrics unit. He was still in his clothes from the day before, and unfortunately, the sleep had done very little to relieve the burning in his guts. Well, he thought darkly, at least he was already in the hospital. But he felt so inexplicably exhausted, as if he had run to the edge of the world and then back again. His limbs certainly felt unsteady enough that it was entirely possible.

Wait, it was morning. He sat up abruptly. That meant he had slept clean through the night. Astrid should be out of her surgery by now.

He whipped his head and regretted it a moment later when the world tilted in front of his eyes. Groaning, he held his head, and then after a moment, he chanced a peak at the other side of the room, searching for Astrid in one of the beds. But he didn't see her in any of them. In fact, he was the only breathing soul in the entire ward. It was so quiet it felt like he was the only breathing soul in the whole world.

"Astrid?" he called her name softly, just in case she was somewhere he couldn't see her.

No answer but an echo.

Just then, the door to the unit opened with a tiny squeak, and to his relief he saw his parents make their way in. When they saw he was awake, they immediately made their way over to the bed.

"Hey baby," Valka greeted him gently, far too gently, before she sat on the bed beside him, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Still sick," Hiccup admitted, "Kind of weak. You were right, I shouldn't have let myself get so stressed yesterday. I think it triggered another flare-up."

Stoick placed a large hand on his shoulder, causing Hiccup to look up at him. "Well," his father suggested, "Why don't you just concentrate on resting today so it doesn't get any worse. Aye?"

"Yeah," Hiccup nodded, "But I'll rest after I see how Astrid is first."

His parents went completely silent and still, as if they had been turned to stone. And then they just kept being silent and still, for several long moments, their mouths opening and shutting like they were learning how to speak all over again. Hiccup expected, kept waiting, for them to assault him with a barrage of "Oh no you don't have to do that right now, she's fine," followed by "Aye son, get some rest," or even "She's a little tired right now, best you didn't disturb her."

But they said _nothing_.

Finally, his mother spoke. "Hadley."

That sent spikes of ice exploding in his veins, and Hiccup felt every drop of blood drain from his head.

"Hadley," she repeated, "My love, listen. You were asleep, and you needed it so badly, and that's why we didn't wake you. But the nurse came out around three in the morning last night, and he said that"-

She stopped, and tears flooded her eyes and closed up her throat. She tried to keep speaking, but Hiccup couldn't understand a thing she was saying, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He looked up at his father helplessly, but even his father's eyes were shining with tears. His heart began to pound and all of sudden felt far too large for his chest.

"What's going on?" he asked desperately, "Dad? What's the matter? Is Astrid okay? Did the surgery backfire? Is she…is she worse?"

Stoick shook his head, and then leaned down and kissed his son's forehead, before he held him tight to his chest. Hiccup froze, dread freezing and burning and raging through his scrawny body.

"Astrid's…" his father began uncertainly, "Now son, they didn't mean for it to happen. She just…she died, Hiccup. She started hemorrhaging near the end of the surgery and they couldn't do anything to stop it."

Hiccup went perfectly still. He didn't even breathe.

But then, he pulled away from his dad, and started _laughing._

It was just a little chuckle, but it sounded so hollow that it made both parents feel nauseous to hear it. Hiccup looked up at his dad and shook his head, as if he were admonishing a child for some silly notion. "No, dad. She can't be. She…I promised her we'd go on a trip together, just the two of us. She's so excited to go, she can't…she wouldn't leave me. I love her, she wouldn't leave me."

Near the end of his sentence, tears began to well up in his eyes and his lips turned a sickening shade of grey. He began to shiver uncontrollably, and he shook his head again.

"She wouldn't leave me, dad," Hiccup insisted, voice strained and desperate. "She can't be gone." His tears were falling fast and hot down his face, a sob trying to climb out of his throat. Stoick tried to wrap his arms around Hiccup while Valka began to press herself up behind him, her cheeks shining with tears, but Hiccup wriggled out of his grasp and launched himself off the bed. He staggered for a few steps, legs trembling with unsteadiness. He shook his head harder.

"Hiccup, baby, I'm so sorry," Valka sobbed, reaching for him, but he flinched away from her and stared at her like he'd never seen her before.

"No, stop it!" Hiccup "Just stop it! She's not dead!"

Stoick insisted sadly, "She is, son. Please, you need to"-

"Shut up!" he snarled, baring his teeth, tears dripping off the end of his nose, "Please don't! Astrid isn't dead! I saw her last night, in my dream. I was drowning and she saved me. Then she told me she had to go, but just for a little while, and that it would be okay and she loved me. But I told her I didn't want her to go, and I held her tight so she wouldn't leave…"

Hiccup was shaking so hard by now that he was barely remaining upright. He wrapped his arms around his middle, feeling it churn and cramp hotly, an invisible knife sinking into his guts and tearing, ripping, everything screaming in unison to match the high pitched buzzing that had taken up residence in his ears.

"But she still walked away," he sobbed pitifully, "I couldn't stop her, I couldn't hold onto her tight enough. And then she told me to rest because she didn't want to see me get sick… Astrid, my Astrid, you're not…you can't be"-

A choked, screaming cry tore itself loose from his core, the sound of an innocent discovering utter, black, empty despair for the first time. Valka leaped up from the bed and enfolded Hiccup in her arms, and Hiccup buried his face in her collarbone, arms still wrapped around his stomach. He cried the name of his beloved over and over again, trying to summon her with his tears and every ounce of his love, now as painful as frostbite on his tender heart. He latched onto the world of the morning before, when Astrid had cracked his ribs with her enthusiastic hug, when he had his nose buried in the warmth of her raspberry scented hair, when she was telling him that her little silver dragon necklace was beautiful and reminded her of him.

It was too much.

Hiccup didn't know how long he stood there in his mother's arms, screaming and crying and trying to remember to breathe, before his stomach finally clenched, heaved, and committed suicide. He just managed to back away from his mother before he was vomiting his guts harshly onto the tiled floor, along with several black clots of blood. His father practically flew out of the room to grab a nurse, while Valka guided her son back to the bed. He still shook and cried and whimpered Astrid's name over and over like it was the key to his salvation, a prayer to end the pain, a plea for her appear and make false what his parents were saying.

A plea for her to wrap her arms and him and tell him like she was so good at doing that everything was going to be okay, that she was there and she would keep him safe from the demons resurfacing from the dank mire hiding below his sunshine surface.

Stoick came back a minute later with a team of nurses in tow. They immediately set to work on Hiccup, setting up an I.V and trying to calm his raging body down. But he only made it worse, struggling and fighting like a thing possessed, keeping his eyes locked on the window and at the tree line beyond it, crying out for Astrid to come back to him.

They were supposed to fly and be free together forever. He didn't want to be told she had gone someplace he couldn't follow her.

Eventually, one of the nurses must have taken in his hyperventilating state and administered a sedative, because soon Hiccup's thoughts began to meld together and swirl thickly into nothingness. But still, he moaned Astrid's name, telling her over and over again to come home, he loved her, he couldn't breathe without her. But then, the sedative forced him all the way under the surface, and his grief was drowned under a black, heavy wave of artificial sleep.

000

The flare-up was minor, thankfully, so Hiccup was sent home that evening with strict orders to rest. But he didn't hear any of that.

In fact, for the next few weeks following Astrid's death, he didn't process much of anything.

Even after he recovered, after everything had settled and cooled into its own brand of normalcy, Hiccup didn't feel like getting out of bed. He had been rendered into a strange, catatonic state where he was trapped in a perpetual state of emotion that only seemed to have two phases. Either he would lay there, staring vacantly into space while he couldn't think anything but felt everything, or he'd slip into a bawling, furious, keening mess, where his only hope was for someone to hold him and attempt to comfort him until he had exhausted himself. Worse, he couldn't control these swings. It was impossible to, what with how his emotions had become such an indiscernible, tangled, ball of knots.

Right now, he was lying on his bed while Toothless lay on his side, purring and rubbing his face against Hiccup's shoulder. His heart beat painfully and pointlessly in his chest, and he found that he was beginning to hate the sun for continuing to rise and fall as if his world hadn't just suffered a fatal blow.

Valka came into his room a moment later, her footfalls cautious, before she sat down on the bed beside him, one of her hands balled into a loose fist. She ran her hand down Toothless' back, and then placed it on Hiccup's neck.

"The funeral will be this weekend," Valka said, "Her family wanted to know if you wanted to say a few words at it."

Hiccup stiffened, but then replied softly, "Not for them. For Astrid I will."

She sighed and glanced around the room, as if trying to decide how to word her next thought. Finally, Valka said, "I know you don't like her parents. But they told me they would honor Astrid's final wishes. You see, she left them a list about a year ago of things she wanted to have happen after she died."

Hiccup didn't say anything, but Valka knew he was listening. She continued on.

"One of her demands was that she wanted to be cremated, but she didn't want to be buried just yet. She wanted to wait until you died so that she could be buried with you, however long from now that may be."

Hiccup's eyes widened and after a moment, he swallowed. The action sounded rough and painful to Valka's ears. But he remained silent, unable or unwilling to respond. It was terrible, and her ears nearly exploded from it. So, gently, tenderly, she pulled one of his clenched fists away from where it was tucked beneath his chin, and opened it. Then, she placed a small, cool, hard object in his palm and closed his fingers around it.

"And Astrid also wanted you to have that," she told him.

Hiccup slowly opened his hand, and beheld the tiny silver dragon necklace that lay serenely on his palm, blue eyes glittering up at him. And Valka watched, as if in slow motion, as Hiccup's eyes began to shine and tears began to rise from his lower lids. He gritted his teeth and a strangled sob beat its way up his throat. Heavy, wet breaths made his shoulders heave and shudder as he stared at the little dragon and couldn't see anything but the collarbone it used to rest against, framed by little wisps of blond hair trying so hard to grow longer…

He clenched his hand around it and drew it to his chest, clutching it like one would a chance tree branch suspended over a fathomless chasm. He could almost see the infinite blackness spread out below him, trying to suck him down while this little piece of light kept him tethered to all he had left.

Valka sighed, her breath heavy in her chest, feeling her son's awful descent into despair as clearly as if she were the one experiencing it. All she had to do was imagine Stoick in Astrid's place and she understood instantly. She folded herself over Hiccup, curling around him, letting him press his face into her stomach.

"Shh, shh," she soothed, her own throat tightening, "Oh baby…my baby, I'm here. I'm not going to leave you, ever. Shhh, I'll always be here."

Toothless came up to his face, mewing worriedly, before he stuck his head in and kissed Hiccup on the cheek, tongue rasping softly. Valka shushed, stroked, and let him cry as hard as he pleased. He was surrounded by so much sympathetic love and warmth that it was almost agonizing to witness.

And yet he had never felt so utterly destroyed in his life.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Because I mentioned it in my last oneshot, here's a drabble thing about Hiccup's first surgery. Enjoy!**

Hiccup found out recently that the reason people like to hold warm things, like bowls of soup or cups of coffee, was because these things simulated human warmth and contact. It was sad that people rarely got to experience the real thing. Perhaps that's why he thought Astrid was such a godsend.

Getting to sleep in the hospital was usually horrible; it was too quiet, too lonely, too much of a chance for Hiccup to spiral into his own dark thoughts because there was nothing there to comfortably ground him back in reality. But here he was, warm and cozy under a pile of blankets Astrid had meticulously arranged for him for optimal heat entrapment and softness. Astrid was wrapped around him like a blanket herself, sweet-smelling and firmly _there_. The whole, cozy blanket nest smelled like her, and Hiccup curled himself up among it, allowing it to surround him in another layer of security. Astrid, with her raspberry shampoo and her soft, sleepy breaths meant safety. As long as she was here, nothing could touch him.

Yet his heart was still beating like a panicked rabbit's.

Despite the deliciously wonderful heat from her body that soaked through his every layer, despite the fact that he knew that it was okay to relax now because he was warm and didn't have to waste his energy shivering, his muscles were locked up and hard as stone. He was grinding his teeth and a steady, pulsing pain had begun around his temples as a result of the stress. There was also the strange juxtaposition of his stomach feeling uncomfortably empty (he wasn't allowed to eat anything after eight that night) and his bowels throbbing languidly with pain. It seemed that every time his stomach growled, it sent an immediate rush of pain to his bowels, and Hiccup hated it.

He tried to sleep, really he did. He was so tired, but it seemed like one of those instances of being too tired to sleep. And every time he closed his eyes and began to relax, the world drifting away and his head sinking down further into the crook of Astrid's shoulder, he'd remember his impending surgery the next morning and snap awake again.

He'd had nightmares before, ever since he had been told surgery was a possibility when you had Crohn's. He saw himself waking up in the middle of the surgery, lights blinding him and doctors with his intestines wrapped around their wrists like it was tinsel. He could smell the blood, the heavy stench of the inside of his sick body cavity, parts of him that were never meant to see the light of day…

Hiccup threw up in his mouth a bit, swallowed it down again with great difficulty, and sighed in frustration. He couldn't turn his brain off to rest, couldn't stay awake, couldn't leave the warm curve of Astrid's side, yet he felt stifled by her. It was going to be a long night filled with bursts of dozing that left him more exhausted than anything.

Futilely, not for the first time, he wished he could wake up and find that his disease had been a cruel dream all along.

000

Hiccup couldn't help it; the instant he heard the doors click open the next morning and his mom left him to talk to the anesthesiologists, he cowered like a beaten dog and sunk back under the blankets, pulling them over his head. He felt like a child, reverting back to the old idea that if you couldn't see the danger, the danger couldn't see you, and that blankets were a shield against all the monsters. His heart began to pound in his ears, stomach erupting into tingles and doing flips that made him want to throw up. With a whine, he curled back up against Astrid, squeezing his eyes shut and hiding his face from the voices.

_It's okay_, he chanted to himself, _It's okay it's okay it's okay_. _I'm safe, Astrid's here, she won't let them hurt me. As long as she's here and my mom's here, I'm safe. If I'm still, if I'm quiet, maybe they'll just leave._

It was stupid and childish, but the fantasy was all that was keeping him sane. He buried his nose against her chest, waking her with the motion. She murmured questioningly when he hid his face in the warm security of her body, but understood immediately when she saw the nurses heading over.

"It's okay, babe," she whispered, running a hand over his hair, "Come on, sit up."

Hiccup shook his head and draped an arm across her waist, pulling her against him. He went very still, terror freezing his muscles and filling his throat, making it taste like blood and bile. A cold sweat made his palms slick his neck too hot, and he whined pathetically, hoping to garner Astrid's sympathy by showing her how scared he was.

"Shh, I know," Astrid said empathetically, "I know you're scared. I know you want to hide. You don't have to look at the doctors if you don't want, and we'll keep you wrapped up in the blankets. But you have to sit up. Please, Hiccup?"

Hiccup whimpered one final protest, flinching when the lights turned on. To sit up and face them was to leave his secure little nest that smelled like Astrid and finally face the unknown. Sniffing, throat tightening, he finally sat up and turned towards the nurses. They were smiling at him they looked kind, but it didn't matter; the blinders fear produced were back on, and Hiccup was already beginning to shake. Astrid pulled the blankets up over his shoulders, wrapping them around him and shushing him gently, pressing kisses against his hair in an effort to distract him. It didn't work.

Then the anesthesiologist came over and might have introduced himself, but to Hiccup everything sounded like it was underwater. All he could see was the portable machine he had with him and the frightening mask he knew was supposed to deliver the gas.

The bed dipped beside him and his mother sat down, pulling him into her lap letting him lean back against her. However, the instant the doctor asked him if he was ready for the gas, Hiccup could feel his vision turning blue, his chest tightening with panic. Nurses were behind him, rearranging the bed, and there were so many of them and everything was happening too fast…

"N-No, not ready," he said hoarsely, his voice thick and trembling. He shied away from the mask and pressed himself against the only source of safety available in this horrible place. His mother squeezed around his waist and Astrid clucked soothingly, rubbing the back of his neck. The tell-tale buzz of adrenaline asserted itself in his veins, tightening his chest and kick-starting his heart into painful overdrive.

"Please mama, don't let them," Hiccup begged, his head pounding, "I can't do this, I can't, I can't! I'm too scared, I can't do this…"

"Shh, baby," Valka soothed, "I know. But the longer you wait, the harder it's going to be."

"Just do it and get it over with," Astrid nodded.

Hiccup turned away and buried his face against his mother's shoulder, feeling dreadfully sick. He could feel all the blood draining from his extremities, making his limbs tremble and tingle, and his head feel light. His belly began to ache and lurch, threatening to send him into dry heaves. There was a part of Hiccup that was so sick of suffering, of being terrified, that just wanted all the uncertainty to end. The sooner he was put to sleep, he told himself, the sooner the surgery would be over. But…

The decision was made for him. He saw one of the nurses in the room nod, and another one of the nurses worked together with his mother to flip him over onto his back. Hiccup yipped and struggled a bit, but found he was far too weak to really put up much of a fight. He began to cry in earnest, chest hitching and tears burning down his cheeks.

Then the mask was being lifted towards his face, and he genuinely thought he might faint before they even gave him the gas. He turned his face from the mask once more, halfheartedly, before squeezing his eyes shut and letting it be placed on his face. He felt his mom and Astrid squeeze both of his hands in tandem, and another sob escaped him.

The smell of the inside of the mask was awful, like plastic and sweat. Even worse was the cloying sweetness of the anesthesia itself. Panic squeezed Hiccup by the throat, and without thinking he stubbornly held his breath, tossing his head slightly as if he could shake it off. Valka and Astrid's voices instantly overlapped each other, each speaking some kind of comfort in an effort to soothe him.

"Hiccup, shhhh, it's okay, it's okay," Astrid said, placing a kiss on his clammy fingers. "We're here, you're safe, it's okay."

Hiccup whined, long and low, a sound a dying animal makes when it's given up hope. He was absolutely freezing, ice cold all the way down to his bones. He forgot what it was like to be warm.

"Breathe, love," Valka encouraged him, "Let it do its job. Just rest, now. When you wake up, it'll be all over."

More tears running down his cheeks. Last minute panic reasserting itself as the anesthesia began to work and Hiccup's vision began to fuzz around the edge. His lungs began to burn with the need for air, and unable to resist anymore, he sucked in a breath. The anesthesia invaded his head heavily, chipping away at his consciousness without any effort terrifyingly fast. Hiccup gave a startled whimper, and then felt his muscles being forcibly relaxed. He wanted to fight, he didn't want to fight. He didn't like the place this gas was taking him; it was too dark, too deep in a place where dreams didn't exist to entertain the mind, too final like death. A high pitched buzzing drowned out the comforting murmurs at his sides and their warmth fell away whether he wanted it to or not.

_No, don't make me leave, let me stay with them! Mama, help me! Astrid, make them stop, I-_

The last vestiges of his control were ripped away, and Hiccup was given up for the wolves to play with his organs.


End file.
