A/N: You guys are liking the emotions, I see. Nice... well there's more where that came from, I can tell you that much ;)

Hiccup was rudely awoken to water being poured down his raw throat and however grateful he was for being able to quench his thirst, he barely avoided spluttering in surprise. He swallowed thankfully and tried to pry his eyes open. The moment he did, however, the water was withdrawn from his lips and he grumbled pitifully, only for an amused chuckle to meet his ears. His eyes fazed in and out of focus until he could make out Ryker standing in front of him. Viggo sat behind him at the desk, expression neutral.

"It was about time you woke up," The older brother said. "You slept straight from sunset to noon. Even Viggo started to lose his patience," Hiccup ignored the man, realising with appreciation that his head no longer pounded. The burning pain in his leg had subsided to a dull ache, leaving only his chest and throat to the same throbbing as the last time he was conscious.

"Welcome back, Hiccup," Viggo rose from his seat to walk around his desk. "I understand that you haven't had much time to think over what I said to you last night but I do hope you've recovered enough to think this through logically. Your loyal friends believe you're dead and will have no business in this,"

"And you expect me to believe you?" Hiccup rolled his eyes, adamant to not fall for the man's tricks. Viggo frowned.

"As I once told your friend Heather, there are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn't true, the other is to refuse to believe what is. You are no fool, dear Hiccup, but that does not mean you are immune to acting foolishly. I do suggest you make the smart move here," The Grimborn replied, now standing next to Ryker with his arms folded. Hiccup's hands balled up into fists, rubbing against the wood they were tied to.

"And I know the smart move is not to tell you whatever you want to know,"

"At the expense of your own safety?"

"I put the safety of the Riders above my own,"

"Hm, interesting," Viggo mused, only to be pushed aside at Ryker, who was scowling at the prisoner.

"Yes, because most grown men say that, right before screaming their lungs out when the pain kicks in," He leered at Hiccup, leaning closer. The Rider recoiled in disgust, lips tight. Without meaning to, he found himself eyeing the row of dragon-proof axes that hung behind Viggo's desk. Ryker stood up straight again and chuckled, having clearly noticed the direction of his gaze.

"That's right," He sneered, hand coming to rest on the handle of his own sword. "Now's your chance to talk. Let's see, we'll start with your Riders, eh? How many dragons have you got on that island?" Hiccup scowled at the man, deliberately pursing his lips further. He could see Viggo raise an eyebrow out of the corner of his eye but tried to ignore it. He was practically having a staredown with Ryker, who seemed to be becoming more and more unhappy by the second.

"Alright then," He said after a good number of seconds, rolling his right shoulder backwards before drawing his arm back. Hiccup found his shoulder being grabbed by a beefy hand and unwillingly flinched before the punch had even been thrown. The fist hit him hard in the jaw and he grunted on impact, praying to the gods that this wouldn't be the cause of his pounding headache coming back. He opened his eyes to see Ryker preparing for the next strike, but knowing it was coming didn't ease the pain at all.

"How many?!" He shouted as he hit Hiccup's jaw again. Several more punches landed on various parts of his body, a few landing on his chest and stomach. He gasped as the air was knocked out of him and the pain reignited in his chest. "Talk to me, Hiccup," Ryker whispered dangerously, stopping the onslaught for a moment and gripping his chin to force eye-contact. Hiccup glared at him as best as he could, before realising in horror that his dizziness was returning.

Ryker growled angrily, standing up straight again and immediately reached for a dragon-proof sword strapped to his back. But before he could pull it out, Viggo's hand found itself on his brother's arm.

"Stand down, brother," He said, calmly, having watched the beating without the slightest emotion showing on his face. "Now is not the time for impatience or overzealousness," But Ryker only seemed to be more wound-up.

"I'm just willing to do what it takes to make him talk, Viggo, aren't you?" He scowled at his brother.

"That I am, but maybe you should consider that violence doesn't solve everything," Viggo replied. He glanced at Hiccup, a subtle yet sly smile on his face. "I'll have a word with Hiccup alone," Ryker glared at his younger brother, shaking his hand off and unsheathing his sword anyway. Hiccup held his breath, dreading what looked inevitable to him. But the man simply stomped out, not caring that Hiccup had to duck to avoid being decapitated by the sword that swung as he walked. And after using the blade to push aside the fabric of the tent and leave, Hiccup was alone with Viggo.

"So… Hiccup," The man said slowly, lifting the chair the Rider sat on and moving it closer to the desk. He then proceeded to take his own seat on the other side, clasping his hands together thoughtfully. "I have some… thoughts on this adamance of yours, shall we say,"

Hiccup couldn't help groaning internally. He couldn't wait to hear what Viggo had to say this time…

The moment Viggo stood to leave, Hiccup let his head hang with a sigh. He felt exhausted. Every word his captor had spoken had seemed to suck the remaining energy out of him, leaving him with a head both pounding with pain and swirling with thoughts.

The trouble was, he knew exactly what Viggo had been trying to do. All the flowery talk had quickly turned into ramblings about loyalty and trickery. All of which would end up at the point that he was clearly trying to ingrain into him: if his friends had abandoned him, thinking him to be dead, then the best thing to do would be to simply cooperate with the Hunters on the island he now may as well call home.

Did he believe a word Viggo said? Well, that was questionable. He didn't want to believe it, that was for sure. But even Viggo had pointed that out. According to him, it was completely understandable that he would deny that there was no help coming. After all, his friends were all he had. But the smart move, Viggo said, was to accept defeat even when it wasn't blatantly obvious. Just like he should have done on their first encounter when playing Maces and Talons for Heather's life.

Hiccup had tried not to listen. He really had. He had tried absently staring at the desk in front of him, or at the wall behind it. But being tied to a chair directly in front of the man talking didn't really leave him very many options. Any time he tried to interrupt he was ignored and even when he had struggled against the ropes on his wrists and concentrated on the pain it caused, Viggo's words were like drills to his skull. They just kept going. Talking round and round. Wearing him down. Waiting for him to crack.

But it was now that Viggo had gone, after hours of talking, that he was alone with the silence of the tent and the noise of his own thoughts. The sun had set on Dragon Hunter Island and Hiccup sat there, with no choice but to listen to the mutterings of soldiers walking past. His stomach grumbled loudly – when was the last time he had eaten? Lunch on Dragon's Edge before heading out to sea with Fishlegs? If there was any element of truth in what Viggo said, that could have been at least two days ago. Two whole days and he was still tied to a chair in Viggo's tent. Was it possible that the Riders really did think he was dead? That they really weren't coming for him after all? That his determination to not believe what Viggo said was really just foolishness?

When the doubt started to grow in him it felt was like an infection of the skin that spread rapidly, replacing healthy skin with blotchy discolouration. Like the Scourge of Odin that almost overtook Astrid. Was hoping the wrong thing to do right now? Was he stuck here for good?

The dizziness that Ryker's beating had reignited had been replaced with the return of his pounding headache at some point during Viggo's lecture. Hiccup was struggling to even think straight, let alone push out the thoughts of hopelessness that had started to slither through cracks in his rock-hard determination.

Outside he could see that torches went out one by one until the shadow of the guard outside the tent could no longer be seen. The lanterns that hung from the rafters above him seemed unrelenting, illuminating the dragon hides that made up the fabric of the tent. That thought alone made him feel sick.

He told himself that he couldn't afford to sleep. Not when he was alone and helpless like this. He told himself he didn't need to sleep. Not when he had been unconscious for so long. All of that precious time wasted. And yet when he eyelids started to feel heavy, he welcomed the numbness of slumber that came over him like a wave of inky blackness.

Snotlout had always been the sort of guy to pretend things didn't worry him as much as they did. A measly storm? While he might be frightened, he wouldn't be worried. A stupid nightmare? That was simply the consequence of battle, the occupational hazard of being a Viking. While a dreaming Viking may be at his most vulnerable, that by no means left room for worry. Worry was for the weak. That being said, he had never heard of dreams blurring the line between being asleep and awake. Having a nightmare while being awake, while moving, talking and seeing? That was a reason for concern. Especially when it was happening to Astrid of all people.

The first morning after their failed search, it had been obvious that she hadn't slept well at all. Though to be fair, none of them had. Fishlegs had barely managed to keep himself awake and alert all day, and the twins had resorted to pranking each other to keep their minds focussed on something. But Astrid had barely shown her face, having retreated to her own hut after spending a grand total of two whole minutes in the clubhouse with the others.

And then Snotlout had heard the crying. He had been walking past Astrid's hut on the way to his own at about midday, seeing as he barely felt like riding Hookfang when that action alone reminded him of Hiccup – the Monstrous Nightmare was more than capable of flying on his own, after all. When he had first heard the sob he quickened his pace, not wishing to intrude on what would and should be a private moment of grief.

But that had been before she had shouted Hiccup's name. It had almost sounded joyful, which confused Snotlout greatly. What could she possibly be doing? She shouted his name again, though this time her shout was followed by what sounded like several objects falling to the ground. The racket had caused him to stop and approach the door to her hut, hesitant to intrude but unable to ignore the feeling that he should do something to help.

"Hiccup, no! I'm sorry!" Came another shout, this time no longer sounding at all happy. The desperation in her voice scared Snotlout to the point that he threw open the door without hesitation. Astrid stood in the middle of the room, staring at… something. Her eyes seemed fixed on whatever it was she was seeing and tears welled up in her as she mumbled quietly. "I'm sorry,"

"Astrid!" Snotlout had shouted, but Astrid didn't seem to hear. She blankly looked in front of her and even when she turned to face him, it was as if she was looking right through him.

"He's gone," She whispered, a tear openly trickling down her face. She blinked, looking back at the place she had been staring at hopelessly as if to make sure Hiccup wasn't standing there. When she looked back at Snotlout and actually focused on his face, shame immediately burned in her cheeks.

"Astrid, are you okay?" He asked, taking a tentative step towards her. He wasn't used to this. Astrid openly crying in front of him, clearly heartbroken. And to think he used to try and get between her and Hiccup.

"I'm fine,"

"You're not,"

"I'm fine,"

"No, you're not," He wasn't usually this persistent. It was Hiccup's job to be her moral support, not his. But although Snotlout knew he could never compare to him, as his cousin he was the next best thing for her.

It had taken some coaxing, especially since he had never really had any practise at that sort of thing, but Astrid had finally confessed to having hallucinations. She refused any signs of affection or comfort but at least she talked about it. How long he had spent sitting in her hut, he wasn't sure. But by the time he had arrived at his own hut, he promised himself to be there for her next time she started seeing things. Even if he had to chase her down in the forest to tell her it wasn't real. Even if it was in the middle of the night. Even if it interrupted his "beauty sleep". Astrid didn't deserve to go through another hallucination all on her own.

By now, the sun had set a few hours ago. It had been an uneventful day. The twins had loki'd each other the entire time to keep themselves distracted (and since no one else was in the mood, they turned on one another) but even the occasional scream of fury or fright that echoed over the Edge once a prank had been successful couldn't crack a smile on Snotlout's face.

Astrid had spent the time she wasn't interrupted by hallucinations either in her hut, Hiccup's hut or in the woods throwing axes. That didn't surprise him one bit.

Fishlegs had spent the day alone with Meatlug, either in his gardens or counting dragons in the woods. Although he stayed a fair distance away from Astrid whenever possible.

Snotlout, however, hadn't quite known what to do with himself. Apart from keeping an ear out for Astrid, anything he found himself wanting to do led him down some sort of guilt path. During their time on the Edge, he hadn't really stopped to think much about the way he had treated Hiccup as a child. That had seemed to be in the past – and even Hiccup never brought it up. But now, he found himself thinking differently about it. He could have been nicer – much nicer.

He felt his eyelids droop and allowed himself to smile slightly. Sleep felt good. No thoughts, no grief, just silence.

But then he heard a shout from none other than Astrid. The hallucinations had kicked in again. Suddenly, sleep didn't matter to him. He had made an oath to himself. It was time for him to help.

And with that thought in mind, he tossed the blanket away and headed off to Astrid's hut.

Hiccup didn't realise he had fallen into a restless sleep until the ruffling noise of fabric startled him awake. He jumped, blinking at the darkness that surrounded him. He must have slept for a while if the lanterns had burnt themselves out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a large hand holding a torch and squinted as the bright light hit his sensitive eyes. Footsteps indicated that whoever the hand was attached to was coming to stand in front of him but it was only when the person stood still that he saw who it was.

"Ryker?" Hiccup said in surprise, but the man didn't react.

"Drink up," The man ordered simply, pushing a flask of liquid to his lips. Hiccup was forced to swallow as the substance was poured down his throat. What he had assumed was just water tasted foul on his tongue and he tried to pull back in disgust. Some of the substance spilt onto his trousers and Ryker growled in annoyance.

"Viggo told you to bring me water in the middle of the night?" He asked disbelievingly. "I'm not even convinced that was water," Ryker chuckled.

"My younger brother doesn't have a say in what goes on at night. That is my job. And what is in that flask is none of your business,"

"I just drank it, so it is. Besides, Viggo wouldn't be happy if you start directly disobeying orders, would he?" Hiccup argued, sincerely hoping that he hadn't just been forced to drink poison.

"You know what? I'm starting doubt Viggo's methods of interrogation. He spent hours talking to you, but if he'd just let me spill some blood you'd have been talking within minutes,"

"I most definitely wouldn't,"

"Oh, doesn't matter," Ryker chuckled. "I've decided to do things my own way,"

"And disobey your leader and brother?" Hiccup asked, hoping that Ryker wasn't doing what he thought he was doing. "What happens when-" He was cut off when a gag was shoved in his mouth and another strap of fabric was tied to stop him spitting it out. The rest of his question was left unfinished, and the unpleasant but familiar feeling of a sword against his throat made his eyes widen.

"I don't care what my brother thinks. Eventually, he'll be glad that I got rid of you before you caused more trouble. But you won't live to see that happen because you won't be seeing the sunlight ever again,"

The sword was pulled away from his throat and came to hover over his chest. Hiccup gulped, trying to think as hard as he could for a way to escape. But the effects of whatever he'd drunk was starting to kick in, and his head seemed to cloud over. He could see from the look in Ryker's eyes that he wasn't joking and suddenly all sense of calmness left. And as the sweat started to trickle down his back, his brain formulated what he knew would probably end up being his last thought.

Thor help me.

A/N: Cliffhanger meet readers, readers meet cliffy. Oh, you've already met? Why not get to know each other some more while I just go do something else over here... (I'll be back on Friday I promise!) ;)

~httydfangirl123