Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Snotlout traversed the dark terrain of the midnight sunken Berk, the hair on his arms feeling the cool rush of the freezing winter’s breeze. He shivered as he walked, teeth chattering under the unpleasant temperatures.

Each footstep brought him closer to the Haddock household, his dreaded destination. He knew what he was doing was for the best, but he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt.

He was worried. No- no worried was understatement- petrified, more suited how he felt towards his cousin.

Petrified that he was going to lose him.

He knew of the horrific habits Hiccup possessed, the heart wrenching coping mechanisms he utilised- he knew. He was so painfully aware of them. He couldn’t look at Hiccup without feeling sad, because all Hiccup knew was sad.

He just couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t bear knowing the horrible truth of Hiccup’s mental state. He hadn’t even found out intentionally. He’d accidentally walked in on Hiccup with blood trailing down his forearms and shoulders- met with a petrified look- closely followed by pleading and begging to just forget he ever saw  anything.

Forget. Forget the harrowing sight of the red liquid pouring down the mangled arms of his best friend as he held the blood stained knife in his trembling hand.

Forget. Yeah right.

It wasn’t even like he could do anything about it. Hiccup wouldn’t listen to him, he wouldn’t listen to the other riders either, not that he’d ever tell the others- but he was so stubborn- so- so set on the fact that he deserved it. 

He would never listen. Not to them anyway.

So that’s why Snotlout planned to tell the one person who could actually force Hiccup into doing something. 

Stoick.

He reached the door to the chief’s house, taking a deep, refreshing breath of air, mustering up the courage needed to discuss such a topic, and knocked.

…

…

…… creeeeEEEEEEeeeeeek……

“Snotlout- sorry, you just missed Hiccup, he and Toothless-,”

“Oh- no- that’s- uh,- that’s good- actually-,”

“Oh-,” Stoick leant back a bit, a confused look seeping onto his face

Snotlout opened his mouth to speak. His stupid mouth. He was betraying Hiccup. He was betraying his privacy and his trust- 

No. No it was for his own good.

He cleared his throat, pressing further on in the conversation.

“I uh- I need to- uhm- talk to you about Hiccup.” He managed, wincing at how shaky his voice sounded.

“Oh- I-… I see…” His voice was confused, worry already present “Well- do come in lad,” Stoick offered, stepping out of the way to allow his nephew inside.

Snotlout hesitantly stepped inside

No going back now.

Stoick swiftly pulled two chairs out, sitting down in one, the other opposite, left for Snotlout to occupy.

He sat down opposite the chief, taking in a deep breath to steady himself.

Gods he could already feel his heart racing, pumping every cell of blood through his ever increasingly trembling body. He was suddenly extremely aware of himself. His hands, his fingers, the drowning feeling in his chest, the emptiness of his stomach.

He cleared his throat once more, finally forcing himself to start speaking, despite everything telling him not to.

“He's uh-,”

Do it. Just do it.

“He’s been- hurting himself. ” He blurted out, his hands clasping together, the sweat on his quivering palms making for an uncomfortable sensation. 

Was he really shaking because of words?

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Stoick for the first few seconds- dreading his reaction- anger? Sadness? Disbelief? 

Worse.

Horror. Pure horror.

Pure horror that was soon hidden, a spur of the moment reaction one might say.

“He- I- okay.” The chief began. The sound of his voice sending chills down Snotlout’s spine.

This man was Hiccup’s dad. His dad. And he was telling him that his son was hurting himself.

“Uhm-… how?” He finally questioned

…

Snotlout’s mind blanked at the question. Such a simple ask- just- just say blade. 

Blade. A knife.

“I don’t uhm-,”

No. Say it,

Dagger. Knife- something sharp-

“He uh-“

Just say it Thor damnnit!

“A knife- he- he- uhm- a knife…”

He would’ve liked to think a pressure was lifted off his shoulder, but every time he chipped away at the mass weighing him down, it would just be added to the piling up guilt that would forever haunt him after this conversation.

He nervously watched as Stoick nodded, very clearly deep in thought- trying not to show any signs of emotion- he knew the feeling. 

“And- and what does he- d-do with the knife?” 

…

It was almost uncanny to hear the way his uncle’s voice wavered. Stoick the Vast. He wasn’t the type to show any sign of ‘weakness’

It only made Snotlout feel worse.

“Cut- cut his uhm- arms- he-,” He took a breath, the words sticking to his throat like a thick paste “It’s- they’re everywhere- the- the scars and the cuts- he- you can barely see the original skin- I-,” 

He felt tears prick at his eyes, his arms physically shaking as he tried to not cry. His heart felt as if it were broken, the million tiny shards firing at his chest cavity, pumping so hard it would burst from his chest. He wanted to scream, he’d known for so long and tried so many things to help- but he couldn’t- he had to betray Hiccup to help him- and he didn’t know what it meant for their friendship in the long run-

He didn’t know if Hiccup would ever speak to him again- if- if he’d cut him out of his life- get angry at him- hate him. He didn’t know. He didn’t know and it was scary. He didn’t want to lose Hiccup as a friend- they were so close to each other- they had grown so Thor damned close over the past few years- they knew each other like the back of their hands- they trusted each other. Hiccup trusted him not to tell anyone.

And he was breaking that trust. He was breaking their friendship.

But all of that; the prospect of losing one of his best friends, never having a relationship with him again, never being able to speak to him again- was all worth it if it meant Hiccup got better. And he would do it over and over again if he had to.

His eyes slowly glanced back up to Stoick, having not heard anything in reply to his answer yet.

The man sat, his expression dark and somber. He did not react, he did not reply to the information he’d been told. He simply stood up, and patted Snotlour on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Snotlout. You have no idea how much you telling me this means to me,”

His eyes briefly widened, before he very quickly snapped back into his speech.

“Oh- y-yeah I- yeah- no- no worries-,” He stuttered out, still clearly trembling.

He was seen out of the house, a warm yet sad smile upon the chief’s face as he closed the door behind him.

And that was it.

He just had to… wait…

…really?

That was that, all done. Fixed. Sorted?

Surely not?

But no. He thought about it more- and yes. That was it. There was nothing else to be done.

He just had to… get on with his night now. Try and pretend that he didn’t just potentially end Hiccup’s life as he currently knew it- 

He stood on the porch of the house, unable to move.

Unable to breathe.

He’d just done it

He’d finally done it.

But he didn’t like that he’d finally done it.

No. No he hated it in fact.

Where was the relief? Why hadn’t his stress left? Why was he still terrified?

Why hadn’t it all gone away? 

Why couldn’t Hiccup just be okay…?

Chapter Text

The night was cold, the cool breeze of winter air gently glided through Hiccup’s hair, washing over his and his best bud’s faces. He could taste a hint of salt in the air from where they had been flying over the dark, midnight reflecting ocean. The stars in the for once clear night sky shone brightly, twinkling in patterns and shapes that left people staring in awe.

They hated to end their flight, it really was beautiful out, but they had to go home at some point.

Toothless zipped through the sky, a content look on the twos’ faces as they landed outside of their house. Hiccup dismounted from the saddle, giving Toothless a scratch under the chin and a warm smile. They never really needed words to communicate.

Hiccup walked up the stairs to the front door, and he stopped. He turned around and looked out over the view of the village of Berk

It was a beautiful view. Just like that of the night sky. Dimly lit orange glows from family houses emanated across the dark town centre, dragons roosting in their own little nooks and crannies that they’d managed to claim for themselves. People were living in peace. People were happy. It was nice, just to even glance at for a few moments. 

Everything wasn’t always that bad.

He smiled, giving a content sigh and turning around, pushing the door open with a heavy creek.

“Hey da-,”

Oh… well he doesn’t look happy.

“…ad…everything okay?” Hiccup cautiously asked, gently pushing the door shut after Toothless had slipped inside.

His father didn’t seem to even acknowledge his presence for a few moments, just staring blankly ahead as he sat by the fire.

“Sit down lad,”

Ohhhh that’s never good.

Hiccup hesitated, before nervously walking to sit opposite his dad. He already really did not like this.

“What’s uh- what’s up?”

That question elicited no response from the man, he was just staring ahead, clearly deep in thought. And by the look on his face, they weren’t very nice thoughts

“…Okay- I’m just gonna get this question out of the way- have I done something?”

It was better to ask then have his dad ask him some vague questions about ‘does he know something about whateverthefuck’ or ‘where were you on such and such night’. But he couldn’t think of anything that he’d done his dad would have been mad at him for? Not recently anyway.

“No- no you haven’t son- well- not in the way that you're thinking… at least,”

“…So… you’re not mad at me?”

“No- no I'm not mad at you lad.”  

His father seemed unbelievably stressed. He rubbed his face with two weary hands, voice muffled. He barely even looked at Hiccup.

“…Yeaaaaaahh okay see I’m not really getting that from you. This,” he gestures vaguely to Stoick “Isn’t screaming ‘I’m not mad’ ,”

All that comment did was make the man sigh. Now Hiccup was getting really worried- because if this wasn’t anger- then- then what was it??

“I need to ask you some questions, Hiccup. And they’re not pleasant questions, but I need you to answer me honestly,”

“… okay…?”

All Hiccup could really conclude from this is that he was fucked. Something he’d done- or- or something someone else had done- yep. He was fucked.

“Have- have you ever hurt yourself?”

Hiccup stared at him for a moment, puzzled. Obviously he’d hurt himself before? Who hadn’t?

“I- well yeah. Lost an entire leg-,”

“No- no- intentionally.”

Hiccup paused again. His confusion morphing into shock.

…

“W-what?” 

His voice grew quiet, his eyes widening.

“Have- have you ever intentionally hurt yourself?”

Stoick’s voice slightly wavered-

…

“I-,” … “ No- no- no I- I haven’t-,”

How? How the fuck? How? How?

“Hiccup,”

“No. I haven’t. I don’t even know what gave you such a stupid idea-,”

“ Don’t lie to me,”

“I’m not lying!”

“Please son I’m not mad at you- not in the slightest-,”

“Good! There’s nothing to be mad about!”

Hiccup raised his voice, the sheer panic he felt putting his mind into overdrive- he stood up- he was done with this already- he was leaving-

“Sit. Down.” 

His voice suddenly became loud, authoritative. His infuriatingly intentional ‘Chiefing voice’-

“Are you going to keep accusing me of being a lunatic??”

“I am not accusing you of being a lunatic. What I am doing is telling you to sit down.”

Hiccup breathed. Just barely. He felt like he might faint at any given moment. Maybe he’d pretend to faint and land in the fire? Yeah, several third degree burns would fix whatever the fuck conversation he’d just been dragged into.

But he sat back down, despite the fact that everything was seemingly beginning to crumble.

“… Do you think s-self harming would make you a ‘lunatic’?”

“I don’t know! I don’t-… do that,”

Thor above everything was horrible. What had even given him that thought? How did- how does he? How- how does he even manage to claw his way out of this one? How many lies does he have to attempt to tell? How- how does he get out of this? Does he get up and bolt? Pack a bag and leave Berk forever? Go back to the edge and claim it as a separate tribe that his dad has no control over??? What does he do? What does he say? He can’t- how does he know!?

“…See son, I- I have reason to believe that you’re not telling the truth there.”

G-  what!?

Fucking how!?

His dad leaned forward where he was sitting, his elbows resting on his knees. And that was when he realised just how fast he was breathing- how fast his heart was pumping- that probably didn’t help in convincing him. It looked like he was mid panic attack-

He probably was.

“Hiccup. I need you to show me your arms.”

His voice was infuriatingly calm and gentle- like he was talking to some scared puppy- like he wasn’t a fully grown ass eighteen year old adult man- like- like he was still a scared seven year old who didn’t understand what was wrong with himself.

“W-why-,”

“Because I am worried about you, and I need to make sure you aren’t injured.”

Hiccup instinctively pulled his arms to his chest “There’s nothing there-,” 

“That’s good, then you should have no problem showing me,”

“So you don’t believe me??”

“No- no Hiccup. I don’t.”

…

All he could hear was his own pounding heart beat, like a sledgehammer to his eardrums.

“W-why- why?”

“It doesn’t matter why right now- I just need you to show me your arms son,”

Why? Why didn’t he believe him? Why? Why!?

“Why don’t you believe me??”

“Hiccup-,”

“Why!?”

“ Stop it. You’re getting yourself wound up. Breathe.”

He did. He did actually just shut up and breathe. He felt light headed-

“I don’t believe you because someone came to me and expressed their worry about you.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter who-,”

“Okay- well- whoever this mysterious someone is, they were lying! Why do you believe them over your own son!?”

“I don’t see reason for someone that cares about you to lie about something this serious Hiccup,”

Gods he didn’t know what to say! Who had even told him??? Who the hel knew about it to even be able to tell him!?

“Well-,” …

“Hiccup- please just- I need to check that you’re not hurt,”

“I- I’m not-,”

“Great, then let me see that you’re not hurt,”

“You don’t- you don’t need to see. You should just believe me.”

“Hiccup. I am trying to be completely honest here okay? And me being honest means that I have to tell you what I think. And what I think is that you are lying to me. So I do not believe you. Now please, show me your arms.”

The room got very quiet, and his head got very loud. Thoughts all screaming at him from every single direction possible, overcrowding his head and leaving no room for rational thoughts. It was like this was his death. His untimely, self inflicted death. 

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why- why are you being so- so calm!? I don’t get it!”

“You don’t get what?”

“You’re being so nice! Who the hel would be nice about something like this!?”

Hiccup watched as the visible sorrow drowned his father. And he hated it. It was his fault. 

“Someone who is deeply concerned for someone that they love. That’s who.” 

Stoick reached a large, gentle hand out, and cupped Hiccup’s face, and he genuinely could not help but melt a little bit. Because it felt so nice- to just- to be reassured- to be told that he is loved by his dad. 

“And because I- I love you, son, I- I need to make sure you’re not hurt right now.”

Hiccup didn’t miss the slight crack in his voice.

“I’m not hurt,” came a weak voice, a last resort protest to just keep repeating the same thing- maybe he’d believe him-

“Then show me that. Show me your un-hurt arms,”

“But there’s no point because there is nothing. There.”

“We’re going in circles lad,”

Hiccup looked away. Anywhere but forward. He couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. He couldn’t do it. Because he knew. He knew and he wasn’t going to back down. He knew. His father knew.

“M-maybe that’s a g-good thing,”

Stoick looked at him. With sad eyes. With a sad face. Sad everything. This whole thing was sad. Everything was sad.

“I don’t think it is,”

“I do,” His voice wavered a slight bit, feeling the unmistakable pain of held back tears bubbling inside of himself.

“Please son. Just let me see,”

“No.”

“Hiccup, please,”

“N-no.”

“Please,”

…

“…are…are you gonna shout at me?”

Gods he sounded so pathetic. An adult man asking his father if he was going to shout at him- 

“Not at all,” He practically whispered

Hiccup thought. He sat in that chair, opposite his dad, and he thought.

…

“I-,”

…

“I’m sorry,”

“Please don’t apologise,” He gently stroked his thumb across Hiccup’s face “Just let me see,”

Hiccup hung his head for a few moments, breathing heavily. Gods- this was actually happening.

He raised his head again, only half way, and he closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that were desperately trying to ruin him. But he persevered, opening his eyes, and, with a trembling hand, grabbed the cuff of his right sleeve.

But he paused,

“I- I lied to you. I-,”

“Don’t worry about that. I understand, it’s okay,”

No going. Back. Gods.

With a deep breath, he slowly brought his sleeve up his arm, repeating the action for the other arm.

There were bandages wrapped all the way from the beginning of his wrist to his mid upper arm. Various areas of the dressings stained with blood.

He barely even took air into his lungs. He sat there, his head down, bloodstained bandages on view. And he refused to look at his dad. Until he heard him breathe out, shaky and uneven, horrified and worried,

He didn’t have to look at his face to know what his expression would be.

“Can- can you take off the- the bandages, please?”

“Do- do I have to?” He could already see the blood- why did he need to see his bare arms for fuck sake? 

“Yes. Yes you do. Please-,”

With an exhale that bordered on a whine of fear, his trembling fingers attempted to work the knot keeping the wrappings held in place undone.

He fumbled with it for a few moments, high pitched grunts of frustration never failing to leave him feel even more pathetic as his hand was physically trembling too hard to even affectively undo a knot- but suddenly, he found his dad’s much larger, much steadier hand in place of his own, and after a few moments, the knot came loose, and the end of the dressings fell from his arm.

Hiccup looked away. He hated his arms. He hated himself.

Stoick gently began to unwrap the small limb from the white bandages, and he stopped as soon as even an inch of his bare skin was visible.

He couldn’t help but stare. His Hiccup, his son, his little boy. His little, sweet, innocent boy-

And with a quivering inhale, he continued. Continued to unwrap, continued to reveal more and more of the countless little pale red lines and scratches, absolutely littering his arms, hiding the remains of what once was soft, delicate, pale, freckled skin with the horrifying truth of what struggling looked like. They all varied in position and size, all took on some other sort of shape than the last- some were in evenly spaced out rows and some were in what seemed to be a frenzied attack of a desperate knife. Some looked a decade or more old and some looked like they had literally only just scabbed over. 

He unwrapped both of his arms, and gently, oh so very gently rested his hands on the underneath of his wrists. Staring. Trembling.

All Hiccup could do was silently sit and wait. Wait for whatever his dad was going to do. And it was killing him. The look on his face. The look of sheer devastation. He wanted to comfort him. Because he had done this to himself. He had done this to this man’s son. 

And without a word. Stoick let go of his arms, and rose from his seat, wordlessly turning and walking to the kitchen.

Hiccup’s heart felt like it physically stopped pumping blood around his trembling body. He felt like his already dwindling life source completely drained from his being the exact moment that his dad left him. Even with the fire right by his side, he still felt cold. He felt so unbelievably cold at his father’s absence.

“D-dad- I’m- I’m sorry-,” He just about managed to choke out around the thick layer of fluid like dread he felt.

But he did not respond, he kept his back to him, reaching the kitchen and rummaging through a cupboard- oh gods- oh gods he was angry- he hated him- he knew it- he fucking knew it his dad hates him now! 

“P-please- I’ll stop- I’ll stop it just please- I’m sorry-,”

He still gave no response. Even after he’d seemingly found whatever it was he was looking for- he didn’t reply. He couldn’t bear to look at his own son. He knew it. He shouldn’t have told him. It was ruined. Everything he’d worked so hard for was ruined and it was his fault- he was going to be disowned again- or- or cast out for being insane and intentionally hurting himself. He’d be forever known as the madman who found relief in inflicting pain on his own skin- his own flesh-. He knew it. He knew it no one could ever love him now- not after this. He didn’t blame his dad. It was a rational answer to just stand there- with- with his back to him- shaking- his- his dad was shaking- his back trembled- his- his… his hands… covered… his face… and- 

And he was crying.

His dad- was- was crying.

He could see his silent sobs.

That wasn’t right.

His dad didn’t… cry? 

No.

No?

This was all wrong.

But then he removed his hands from his face, wiping his eyes with his arm, and he picked up what looked to be a bucket of water and a rag. And he turned- he faced Hiccup, and he walked back to him.

Hiccup almost wanted to throw his arms over his head in self defense- and he didn’t quite know why- his father had never and would never intentionally physically hurt him- but felt small and vulnerable and weak- and he didn’t want to feel that.

His Dad knelt down in front of him, bucket and rag put to one side, and he looked up.

“Look at me,”

Hiccup did so, very sheepishly meeting his gaze

“It’s okay,” 

Those two words, combined with him reaching his hand up to gently hold Hiccup’s own-

“Y-you are so brave for showing me- and- and I don’t want you to be scared by this son. I really don’t. The- the fact that you have told me is- it’s such a good step in the right direction. I- gods- I just- I cannot fathom what you have been going through to- to resort to… this,”

Hiccup stifled an obvious sob. Stoick didn’t comment, he had the right to sob his heart out. He needed to. 

“I just- why? Why would you- why would you do this to yourself?” 

He looked so hurt. So confused. Hiccup had hurt his son. His- his son-

Him. Himself. His dad’s son. He- he-

“I- I don’t know- I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I’m sorry!”

Stoick leaned forwards from where he was kneeling, and he wrapped his arms around Hiccup in the tightest hug he possibly could. And he held him. Held his son that was falling apart right before his very eyes. And he vowed to himself that he would never, as long as still lived and breathed, allow him to continue doing this to himself.

“I know. I know, it’s scary I know. But you don’t- don’t need to be sorry Hiccup. You’ve done nothing wrong-,”

“But you’re mad at me! And- and you have- have ev-every r-right to be mad- and- and I hurt you! You’re upset and I’m sorry!”

“Hiccup-,” Stoick paused, recollecting himself- “Of course I’m upset. Of course I’m- I’m absolutely devastated son- but not because I’m mad at you. I’m angry- and- and I’m so unbelievably sad that my own child- my own pride and joy has been suffering like this- and- and I didn’t know. I’m so unbelievably sorry Hiccup-,”

Thor above he couldn’t even formulate a coherent response. He just completely stopped functioning. He cried so hard into his dad’s shoulder that he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything except lay limply in his father’s arms, the only thing stopping him from dropping dead being the soothing hand that was running gentle fingers through his hair. He was dying. He was dying and it was his own fault.

Seconds- minutes or- or hours went by of the two of them just silently holding each other. It didn’t matter how long it went on for, it would never matter, because nothing could fix this. It felt hopeless. It felt completely hopeless. He’d be- in some fucked up way- content dying right there. Both of them would. Because it was horrible. It was all so horrible and seemed so completely and utterly irreversible.

“Why don’t we give your arms a clean?” Stoick gently and quietly offered. It was phrased as an option, for now at least. 

“O-o-k-kay-,” Hiccup managed to just about sob out.

Pulling away from the hug felt like ripping clothes at the seams, and he felt cold once more.

Stoick dipped the rag into the bucket of water he’d brought over, and began to very tenderly wash the dried blood from both of the limbs. The cold water felt odd on the amalgamation of injuries that were his arms. It felt foreboding, like this was just the beginning to a much worse, much more grueling process.

He winced as the cloth brushed over a particularly painful mark, a sharp intake of air through his teeth making his back shiver.

“Sorry,” Stoick quietly apologised, his gaze seemingly unable to leave the- well the state of his son’s arms. 

It made Hiccup want to curl up into the fetal position and cry.

“ S’fine ,” He just about muttered in response, his voice having returned to the normal, quiet, barely there mumbles from his previous breathless sobs.

Stoick continued to gingerly wash his arms, soon placing the soaked cloth down in the now red water of the bucket, leaving it there. He couldn’t bare the looks of pain on Hiccup’s face any longer-

“…I need to ask you another question,”

No no no no-

What now? What else could he possibly ask?

“Okay.”

“Is it just your arms? That- that you injured?”

… oh it just kept getting worse.

“Y…yes,” 

“Hiccup-,”

“Please- don’t. Don’t- just- it’s just my arms.”

“…It isn’t though, is it?”

“… Why do you say that?”

“I can tell when you’re lying lad,”

“I- please. Leave it,”

“ Leave it? ” Stoick sat back on his heels, his face contorted into a stunned expression “You want me to leave it?”

“I- no- no I didn’t mean it like that-,”

“Hiccup, how could I ignore the fact that my own child is hurting himself?”

“…That’s not what I said…”

“It’s what you implied.”

“Dad please I genuinely think I’m about to drop dead can you- just-,” Hiccup inhaled deeply “I’ve showed you my- my a-arms. Just. That’s it. That’s all there is.”

“I don’t believe you.” Stoick very firmly replied, an honest look in his eyes.

“Please-,”

“Hiccup, I am not going to sit in front of you and just accept that you are telling me the truth, because you weren’t earlier. And- and I’m really not trying to hold that over your head here but- I just don’t believe you. And I wouldn’t be doing my job as your parent if I don’t take care of you when you’re hurt, would I?”

“No- no I know that- but-,” Hiccup gave a frustrated sigh, feeling tears welling in his eyes once again “But can you please just- leave it at this?” Gesturing down to his arms.

“Again. You want me to leave it?”

“I… yes. Yes I do.”

“Well I can’t. I can’t and you know that I can’t,”

“But you can! You can- you can just- you can bandage my arms and- and I can go to bed and then we can just forget that this ever happened!”

“Forget? Forget? Forget that my son is in so much pain that- that he’s cutting himself open?”

“Why do you have to word it like that-,”

“Because that’s what it is! You’re- you’re slicing your arms and presumably other parts of your body open because- because of what??”

“It doesn’t matter why!”

“Yes it does!”

“It doesn’t! For fuck sake!”

“ Do not start with that-,”

“Just fuck off!” Hiccup yelled, and before he could even process what he’d done- he’d hit his dad across the face.

Granted, it wasn’t a very hard hit, he didn’t exactly have a lot of strength in him- but- he’d still slapped his dad.

Stoick’s head was turned to the side from the hit, and Hiccup’s mouth hung slightly open, his eyes wide, and he just stared. He stared at the man who was trying to help him. The man he’d just hit.

“I-,”

Hiccup stuttered, watching as Stoick readjusted himself, turning his head back to face him, exhaling with force.

“Feel better?” 

“N-no I just hit you? I-,”

“I know.”

“Why- why would I feel better?”

“My point exactly. What did that accomplish?”

“Noth-… nothing…”

“So why did you hit me?”

“I’m sorry-,”

“No- I’m genuinely asking you, why did you hit me?”

“I- I don’t-?”

“Anger? Frustration? Hiccup- tell me how you feel. Talk to me,”

“…Both? Both I- I guess?”

Hiccup was a bit stunned. He’d just hit his father across the face, left a visible mark and- and he was being relatively calm about it…?

“Does… does hurting something make you feel better?”

…Was his dad asking if he was a serial killer or something?

“What? No? I- hitting you didn’t make me feel better? Why- why would it?”

“Right… what… what if you hit yourself? …Would that make you feel better?”

… That was a loaded question.

It sort of spun Hiccup’s perspective around on how his dad was trying to… well to understand what was going through his head. Hitting his dad didn’t make him feel better. But… but if he were to hit himself, out of, say- frustration- it would make him feel better. Inflicting pain on himself made him feel better emotionally. And that’s what he’d been doing to himself. He’d- he’d been- he- 

It made sense to him.

He made sense.

He- he almost felt normal for one split second.

Because yes. Yes if he felt emotionally distressed he’d- he’d hit the side of his head or- or scratch at his neck- he’d- he’d inflict pain on himself. Which is what he was doing by- well- cutting himself.

It made sense.

“…Hiccup?”

“ Oh- yeah yeah- uh -,” He paused for a second “I was just… thinking… about it. And yes. It would.”

“And why’s that?”

“W-well- it’s- everyone does it right? Like- you- you get a bit too annoyed with yourself and- and you hit your head or something, yeah?”

“…Yes…?”

“Well- well it’s inflicting pain on yourself- it- it relieves emotional distress- it’s- that’s all I was doing with the cuts- it was-,”

“Hiccup- There’s a- a huge difference between giving yourself a light smack on the face when you do something stupid and- and digging a knife into your skin -,”

…

No no no. No he had to understand- it was just stress relief-

“Yeah- yeah but I was- I just-… it wasn’t-,”

“How much are you hurting in that head of yours to have to relieve it by doing that.”

…

“How much pain are you in?” Stoick’s voice was an almost inaudible, terrified whisper

Hiccup’s hands clenched into fists, his fingers not even attempting to relax as he felt the gentle touch of his father against his wrists.

How does he even answer that?

“A-… a lot,”

A trembling exhale followed that statement. And- and he felt almost floaty after the words had come out of his mouth-  almost- almost like he did when hurting himself. 

It felt… good?

“That’s okay,” 

That’s okay.

It was okay.

“It’s okay to be in pain Hiccup,”

It’s okay.

“I love you.”

He was loved.

“I love you too,”

And he loved him back.

“I don’t wanna be in pain anymore dad-,”

“I know.”

“It hurts, everything hurts all of the time,”

“I- I know,” 

Stoick pulled Hiccup from his chair, holding him tightly in his arms.

“I don’t want it to hurt anymore,”

“I know,” 

“I don’t want to- to hurt myself,”

“I… I know.

 And with a gentle hand to the back of his head, gingerly brushing fingers through his auburn locks- other arm wrapped securely around his midsection- they both cried. 

They both cried.

Chapter Text

Snotlout wasn’t quite sure how much longer he could handle this.

He hadn’t gotten any sleep that night. Not a singular minute. He laid there, eyes boring borderline real holes in the ceiling for countless hours, just wondering. Wondering.

It was the not knowing that was killing him. Eating him alive. Not knowing Hiccup’s reaction. Stoick’s reaction. His own reaction, really.

He went the entire day not knowing. The entire day that had the other riders and people in the village questioning why neither Hiccup or Stoick had left the house at all. It pained him to have to play along and feign ignorance. He felt so fake. He felt like he’d betrayed Hiccup.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, he tried to rationalise, but the entire duration of that day had felt like an internal battle not to run away and cry.

The evening would eventually befall over Berk, and still, no one had heard a sound from the Haddocks.

Snotlout could logically deduce that at least Gobber was aware of the situation. He had to be. The smithy had been the one to answer questions and divert people’s attention most of the day, and didn’t seem overly confused about it all. He had to know.

And Snotlout didn’t miss the worried glances the man kept shooting him whenever they’d make eye contact.

He had to know.

Snotlout couldn’t get away from the island fast enough. As soon as he was alone, he hopped on Hookfang and the two shot into the sky, settling at a slow glide above some generic sea stacks near the East side of the coast.

An almost guttural sigh came from the lad, his forehead rested on one of Hookfang’s spiralling horns, the dragon giving a worried murmur in return.

“I’m fine, big fella.” He replied, giving the reptile a gentle pat on the scaly neck “Just, y’know. The whole shit with Hiccup. I’ve felt sick all day just thinking about it.”

A low, sympathetic hiss came from Hookfang. He’d listened to his rider’s worries over the course of a few months; slowly rising in severity, and now to the point where he’d had to tell the chief- it was bad. 

“I really fuckin’ hope he doesnt find out it was me who said something. Stoick wouldn’t tell him it was me, right?”

Hookfang warbled in an unsure noise

“Hiccup would be so pissed if he found out.” Snotlout sighed “As much as the guy annoys the shit out of me, I don’t want him to like. Hate me”

…

“I want him to stop fuckin’ hating himself,”

The cool, winter air surrounding the two almost died at the words, droplets of water vapour freezing shut at the horrible implications of that sentence.

They stayed flying in silence for Thor knows how long, switching direction every now and again to stay within a general range of Berk’s main island.

Snotlout could almost feel himself drifting off to sleep. He was absolutely fucking exhausted after all the gut wrenching, stomach turning, brain killing worrying he’d been up to. But just as the familiar jaws of a lulling sleep were about to take hold-

“Snotlout,”

“Ah!” He startled awake, high pitched scream n’ all. He caught his helmet just as it was about to slide off his head.

It was Hiccup.

Snotlout immediately snapped his head to the right, actually verifying that yes, there was a night fury flying beside them, with Hiccup on top of it.

It felt strange to see him without any of his armour on. His usual pauldrons and leather vest had been forgotten. His shoulders were now very noticeably lacking any real broadness to them, his torso looking even smaller without the extra layer. He looked vulnerable. Small and unnervingly vulnerable.

“H-hey- hey how- how are you??” Snotlout almost frantically asked. Hiding the sweat dripping on his forehead with a painfully wide smile.

“Hm. Been better,”  Hiccup nonchalantly shrugged.

There was an eerie calmness to his voice. Surely something had happened.

“Y-yeah? How- how so?” 

Snotlout cursed the way his voice trembled 

“I… I think you know.”

He- I think you know.

“W-whaaaaat?” He gave a nervous laugh “What- what do you mean I know? Bah- I- I have no idea what you’re-,”

“I mean-,” Hiccup took a calming inhale “ that I think you already know. ”

Snotlout didn’t miss the way Hiccup’s fists clenched around the handles of Toothless’ saddle. His eyes seemingly unable to meet that of Snotlout’s. 

Was he angry? A - ashamed?

He didn’t seem it. Not now, anyway.

“Know… what?” Snotlout managed to croak out, the cracks in his admittedly shoddy attempt to lie becoming increasingly larger.

“Don’t play dumb.” Hiccup snapped back. “You’re the only person it could’ve been.”

Snotlout’s tone deflated “I-,” … “Okay. Yeah, fine. I know. ” 

Silence. Dread filling, all consuming silence. Fallen right over the two. 

He couldn’t tell for the life of him what emotion Hiccup was displaying. It was some kind of negative one. A very very watered down, suppressed feeling. Anger is what kept coming to mind. This had to be anger. He was getting snappy. That usually meant anger. Well. For most people it did.

“What did you tell him?” Hiccup cleared his throat as he spoke, he eyes still locked forward.

Snotlout stumbled over his words for a few moments, put off a bit by the lack eye contact being made “Uh- wh-who?”

“…my dad.”

“Oh…right.”

He almost didn’t remember what he’d said. It was a blur, really. It was like he’d entered that house and immediately left. No literal life-changing conversation in the middle. Point A to point B didn’t really fit in here though.

“Just… that I was worried.” 

He cringed at the audible scoff Hiccup produced

“ Worried ?”

“Y-yeah- worried… what, am I not allowed to be worried when you’re literally-,”

“No no of course you’re allowed to be… worried. Just… coulda given me a little warning.”

“Hiccup if I gave you a warning we both know you would have done everything in your stupid, sneaky little scrawny ass’ power to avoid that fucking conversation, even if it killed you.”

“Ohh yeah go ahead insult me whilst you’re at it.” 

“You-,”

Snotlout groaned in frustration. He didn’t want to get angry at him. He didn’t want to snap and yell and be his usual stupidly over the top asshole self when his cousin might have just had his life ruined by something he did and-

“You know what your fucking problem is Hiccup? You don’t know when to fucking quit!”

“Aaaand there it is!” Hiccup yelled “You’re not worried. This was never about being worried. You want me out of the way!”

“Out- out of the way…?

“ Yes, Snotlout! Don’t fucking lie to me! The only reason you told my Dad is because you- you want me gone from the edge! And-,”

“Hiccup do not finish that fucking sentence or Thor help me !”

Hookfang ignited, sensing his rider’s anger. A low, warning growl coming from the nightmare. Hot headed. Hot headed and protectively worried.

Toothless really did not appreciate that growl, the action eliciting a snarl from the night fury. Defensive. Defensive and angrily afraid.

“…You couldn’t be further from the truth if you tried. Mutton ass.”

Snotlout loosened his grip on Hookfang’s horns as he spoke, forcing his body to release the tension it held. He stared forward, his back going cold as Hookfang calmed his flame.

a trembling sigh came from the smaller Viking, a pat given to the side of sleek, black scales with slim fingers, soothing the night fury’s anger. 

Wind carried the four for the next few minutes, brushing away words with a collective silence, washing away thoughts that would never have the right sounds to ever be vocalised. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

“What is the truth, then?” Hiccup muttered, eyes still refusing to make contact.

“…I told him because- because I was scared . That- that you would be out- ‘ out of the way,’ .”

For the first time that whole flight, Hiccup looked over at Snotlout.

He looked like a mess.

“What- what do you-?”

“I thought you were going to kill yourself. Hiccup.”

Tha-thump, tha-thump rang through Snotlout’s ears. Blood rushing around his body like he were running- sprinting.

Treading on sensitive topics with ground crushing hammer’s for feet was sort of a strong suit for Snotlout at this point. But those Hammers felt cracked and dented, broken and useless. Pointless. What was the point of coming in, dragons blazing, on a subject that could land one of his best-friends in Valhalla decades upon decades before the gates were destined to welcome him. Yeah. Exactly. There was no fucking point. Because it got no one anywhere. And unlike the usual insults and witty cracks he threw at people, it left his ego and self esteem feeling more crushed and insignificant than it did inflated and boosted.

And now it was Snotlout that couldn’t look Hiccup in the eye.

“…I thought I would too. At some point.” Hiccup emotionlessly told.

Dejected and miserable were two words Snotlout never wanted to describe Hiccup as. He needed Whiney-Berk-Hiccup back. He needed Princess-Outpost-Hiccup back. Or any other stupid comment he’d thrown at his cousin over the months- he needed that back. The quippy, sarcastic, sassy, snarky, slightly stupid, slightly crazy, slightly insane Hiccup that had the personality of three people shoved into one. He could not fucking stand this desolate, defeated and- and any other adjective that starts with ‘d’ and has a negative meanting to it!- that- that Hiccup had become. 

He hated it. For him. And he hated himself for not having done anything sooner.

“…Why didn’t you?” He dared to ask.

“Hm… Never felt right. Which… feels too casual just to say .”

“Yeah. Way too casual. Jeez man.”

“Ha, sorry .”

Words died on tongues. Things that wanted to be said, but would likely never be granted free to the others’ mind.

“I guess I just… didn’t want to leave you guys. In. In the middle of. Ya know.”

“Viggo?”

“Well- the Viggo situation. Not the middle of Viggo himself. That’s just. Weird.”

“Oh you know what I meant!”

“Yeah haha-,” He chuckled- he laughed-  “Just messin’,”

“Yeah yeah just messin.” Snotlout rolled his eyes. This. This felt more familiar. He wanted this Hiccup back.

“Y’know, that’s like. Insanely admirable.”

“What is?”

“You- you felt so- so shit that you- you thought about doing… that… but you didn’t. Just because you didn’t want to leave your friends alone.”

“Hardly admirable, Snotlout. That’s- that’s like. The bare minimum.”

“Bare minimum my bare fucking ass!”

“No thank you,”

“Shut up Hiccup.” Snotlout rolled his eyes “ Anyway that’s not bare minimum! That’s- that’s so… well it’s so you. You- you- selfless- one of a kind- know it all prick!”

“…Thank you…? I think…?

“Yes! Be thankful because you deserve to know how- how admirable you are! You- Hiccup- I admire you.”

“Woahhh. Who are you and what have you done with Snotlout?”

“Do not talk! Because I am about to be emotionally vulnerable around you for the one and only time in either of our entire lives so just- do not interrupt me! I get stage shy.”

Hiccup held his hands up in mock defense, signaling for Snotlout to continue.

“I- I know I’m a massive pain in the backside to deal with, Hiccup. I know that I cause more problems than I usually solve and I know there are some times where you really feel like hitting me because- because well I think you’d be even more insane if you didn’t think about bludgeoning me every now and again. Point is. I am a mutton head. Through and through-,”

“Can’t say I disagree-,”

“I’m not finished!! I am a mutton head. A stubborn, obnoxious, annoying, stupid mutton head. And-,”

“And surprisingly self aware,”

“Interrupt me one more time I swear to Odin-. And- and you made me lose me trail of thought for Thor’s sake!”

“Sorry! You were saying you’re a mutton head?”

“… Right. I am a Mutton head… and- and you have the actual patience of a god to put up with me, Hiccup. You- you put up with me and- and the twins and Fishlegs and Astrid and the dragons and you- you do it so well. Every time I insult you or- or poke fun- you- you just bounce back. It doesn’t affect you the way that it’s- well that it’s meant to!” 

Snotlout paused as he spoke, gathering the next round of words in his head.

“ You’re so mature and- and put together and infuriatingly difficult to to rile up. And I won’t lie it does piss me off. But I admire it. I admire you. Every single day. Every single thing that you do. Even the insane, stupid, mostly luck based scenarios and strategies you get us all into- I admire it. I admire every single one of the near death situations we have landed in. Because you always, always figure out how to get us out of them. And I have no idea how. I never will have any idea how. Because you are everything a good leader is times two. And the dragon riders would fall apart at the seams without you and your stupid ability to stay optimistic. And I genuinely don’t- are you crying?”

He was. Hiccup was crying. Silently. With an unreadable smile.

“ Sure .” 

“What do you mean sure? You’ve got water coming out of your eyes! That’s crying last time I checked!

The usual move from Hiccup was to do everything feasibly possible to hide his tears from someone, and that did include jumping off the back of a dragon mid air. But not now. This was. Different. Different in so many ways that he could never explain.

“Mature and put together are not two terms I’d use to describe myself. Not lately anyway- but. Thank you. Snotlout.”

“Well- well that’s how I’d describe you, it’s- it’s also how the others would describe you. We-… we all admire you, Hiccup. And I think it’s about time you start fucking admiring yourself.”

“I don’t. I don’t really know what to say to that, Snotlout.”

“Yeah- well- good. Because if you did then it would probably be something self deprecating. So. Just. Shut up.”

Hiccup chuckled again, wiping the tears from his eyes. The wind made them sting.

The smile soon dissolved from his face, returning to the all too typical solemn frown that had taken a hold on him as of late.

“What… what did Stoick say to you?”

“..w- Hm?”

“ What - what did your dad say to you?”

“Oh he-… he uh…” Hiccup stumbled over the words, bringing a hand to the back of his neck.

“Well he- he was… upset. And. And I was upset and. And there was. There was crying. And. And yelling. From both of us. I- I actually ended up hitting him across the face. At one point. And he didn’t really… care? Well. He didn’t care in the way I expected him to.”

“You hit your Dad?”

“Yeah… I can’t say I’m proud of that one. I just. I don’t know. It was very overwhelming. I didn’t know what to do with my hands and he was right there and. Gods. I can hardly even remember most of it.”

“That’s… yeah that’s completely fair.”

“Not really. I did hit him across the face.”

“Yeah no but like- the whole overwhelmed thing- that’s- that’s fair.”

“Mm.”

“…Okay something else is on your mind now. Tell.”

“Gods just- I’ve never seen my dad cry . Like. Ever. And. And the first time I saw him cry was my fault. Because- because I hurt his son. ”

“Fucking hel dude.” Snotlout muttered, a wide eyed, sorrowful look on his face. “Sounds… awful…Did- did he see the uh- the- y’know?”

“The cuts?”

“Y-…yeah. Those. I was trying to be sensitive about it but. Sure.”

“Mhm. He was more upset than I was. I could see the look in his eyes. It’s… it’s burned into my memory. And- and the way he held my arms- I-…” 

Hiccup stopped himself as he spoke, taking a breath to calm his nerves.

“I didn’t think it was possible for such a hulking man to be so gentle. It was. Unnerving. I actually felt disturbed with how- I don’t know- out of the norm he was acting. I mean we’re talking Stoick the vast here. And he was- he was emotional. In front of me. He cried. In front of me.”

“Well… yeah . You are his son, Hiccup. He- he loves you. He doesn’t want you to be hurt.”

“I know that. I’m not- I’m not stupid. Just- he looked so hurt and- and angry and I felt so… so awful. For- for putting him through that and- and gods I’ve put you through that and-,”

“ Man you are infuriatingly selfless.”

“W-…what?”

“From all of this shit that happened over the past day, you’ve got that- that you made me and your dad upset. Not that- y’know. You are severely mentally unwell?”

“…I know that, Snotlout-,”

“I don’t think you do.”

The words kinda left his mouth before he could think about them. Oh well. That's how it usually went.

“…Yeah… maybe I don’t.”

Another wave of tsunami level silence crashed over the two boys. Their dragons had long stopped throwing warning snarls and biting hisses. They listened. Took in the words they understood. 

“I don’t know if he’s gonna let me go back to the edge. I had to practically beg him to let me take Toothless out.”

“…Maybe that's not a bad thing?”

“Snotlout- all the shit going on with-,”

“I know- I know, Hiccup. But- but it’s killing you. Literally and figuratively. If you don’t go back to the edge, then we don’t go back to the edge. You are our leader, and we will stick by you through everything. I will stick by you through everything. Even if I’m really really annoying about it.”

“…Y’know I really want to be mad at you right now. But. I’m not. Not at all. For fuck sake.” Hiccup groaned.

Snotlout laughed at the comment, happy to see a smile on Hiccup’s face.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve the friends I have.”

“You bade yourself.”

“…Bade?” Hiccup tilted his head in confusion.

“Yeah like- the past tense of ‘be’? Gods Hiccup I thought words were your thing,”

“That- that is not a word.”

“Yeah blah blah blah.” The Jorgenson rolled his eyes.

Silence, for the whatever time that flight, cast a blanket over them. Seriously how many times could they fall into an ominous stint of not talking? It was getting ridiculous!

“Hiccup?”

“Yeah, Snotlout?”

“…I was kinda scared you’d hate me.”

He didn’t need to actually look at Hiccup to see the expression on his face. He just knew.

“I don’t. I don’t hate you… I could never.”

Snotlout nodded. A weight, a heavy, real big, fuck off weight lifted from his incredibly tired shoulders.

“Good. You’d have to be insane to hate someone as amazing as me.”

Hiccup chuckled at Snotlout’s antics. This. This is how it was meant to be. Normal.

“…Race you to Raven’s point?”

“Oh yeah? C’mon Hookfang, show em’ what we’ve got!”

Toothless gurgled in excitement, and the two quickly followed after the monstrous nightmare.