A/N: And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the last chapter of Philophobia. I have to say, things took a completely different turn than I expected. Things were supposed to be very different; it was supposed to be longer, Hiccup and Jack were supposed to have more moments together. All in all, I think it came out a-okay. A lot of people seem to love it and yes, I will make a second edition to this. I will post a note on this fic the week before the sequel comes out. On my HiJack tumblr, snowingdragons, I will post more fics and one-shots as well as photo edits, cosplay pictures, and more. And, I hope to make an Archive of Our Own account by the same name 'snowingdragons'. This Halloween, I will post a new fic, a fantasy HiJack fic, on here, tumblr, and AO3. Until then, happy halloween and stay safe.

His head swayed and it was almost like he was in some sort of lucid dream. Every part of his body didn't feel right. It felt almost as if he wasn't moving it but something else that read his mind was. He lifted his hand and stared at it, soon bringing it to his chest. A steady beep sounded next to him and it was scary how normal and comfortable he was.

Slowly, his eyes adjusted and he saw the white plastic footboard, the stiff, crisp sheets, and the plain walls. A hospital room. He was in a hospital room. But that couldn't be. He was supposed to be dead, at the bottom of the river by now. Ice was suppose to surround him and take him to wherever his mother was taken to. There was no possible way he could have made it out and lived.

Hiccup sat up and hissed at the pain in his shoulder. It didn't matter how much morphine was bumping through his body, he still felt a slight sting from where he was shot. By Pitch. Oh gods, everyone was in such chaos. He felt his heart jump and his breathing become heavy. The steady beeping by his side raced and soon, a nurse came in through the door, he scrubs too tight for her figure.

"Jack!" He screamed when he saw the open door. "Jack! Dad!" He had to know they were okay. That they were safe just like how he was now.

"Mr. Haddock, you're going to have to lay back down and calm down. Your father and friends will be in here in a moment." The nurse said in that standard nurse voice that could make any forty year old feel worse about themselves.

The brunet stared at her and laid back down, following her orders without complain. "My dad and Jack, are they okay? Are they hurt any? What happened to them?"

She shook her head. "They are just fine. A few of them have a black eye. One of them a broken nose and arm."

He nodded. He wanted to continue asking her about them, but he figured he'd find out for himself. Instead, for now, he stared at her nimble fingers, watching her unwrap a needle and place a vile on top. She placed it into the iv and the vile began filling up with his blood. At some point during the process of getting three small glass tubes filled with blood, his lip twitched and his tongue flicked with the most ridiculous question ever. He felt the strong urge to ask why he couldn't feel anything. But he decided against it, blaming the pain medication for his loopyness.

The nurse smiled and explained how they had to keep his father and Jack in different waiting rooms and they'd see him at different times. He had been out for about two days she said, patting his arm and changing the fluid bag out. She stayed with him for a moment until his food arrived on a plastic, plain tray. Setting it down with a smile, she patted his head and promised to be back soon with his father who was promised to see him first. Hiccup just simply watched her leave and close the door behind her.

In truth, he didn't want to see his father first. He wanted to talk to Jack. The brunet looked over the white and blue weaved bracelet on his wrist and smiled, happy and slightly surprised he still had it. He knew bits and pieces now. It was more like facts stored in filing cabinets than actual memories that he could revisit. He knew that Jack had given him this bracelet, that Jack was his first real friend. He knew that they used to crawl up the hill and stare at the stars. With a smile, he touched his lips softly with the tips of his fingers. Jack would kiss him sweetly before leaving the hill and helping him home.

'Because he cared about me…' Hiccup thought to himself as his fingers curled into a small fist that dropped to his lap. There were still some blank spots; where he went to school, what Jack looked like at that age, what had happened to him, but he didn't care all too much. He had the basics and he could build things off that, learn things about that time.

Stoick walked in with a grin on his face, Gobber not too far behind. "Son…" He whispered roughly as if he had been coughing or screaming. Or arguing. "You've finally woken up."

"Hi dad." His was just as bad, if not worse. He could feel the cords in his throat tug down and scratch, his words coming out almost as if he had been strangled. "What've I missed?"

"Not too much." The large man shrugged and sat by his son's side, smiling. "Pitch and the others are locked up. I have…pardoned the two that helped us find you."

Hiccup sat up as straight as he could, staring into his father's eye which was bagged and black. "And Jack?" He whispered.

Gobber stepped forward before Stoick could speak. "Jack has also been pardoned from arrest. By me."

He nodded and looked up at his father, seeing the most disappointed, disgusted look on his face. It made him boil with words he wish he could say to him, like how Jack wasn't that bad of a guy and think about what his life has probably been. But he knew getting angry at him and yelling and screaming wasn't going to get him anywhere. If anything, it'd make matters worse.

They sat there for about a half an hour, talking as Hiccup nibbled on a few pieces of toast and sipped his soup. Everything seemed to taste like a watered down version of the real thing or something different entirely but it was still food and he hadn't eaten in so long. Gobber told him the whole story of his rescue as his blood slowly stopped boiling and his face became a normal color other than beat red. He told him how Jack jumped in after him, breaking his arm and nose in the process, and carried him back up to the car. With it turned on and the heater cranked all the way up, he had stripped him of his shirt and pants and had tried to dry him and warm him at the same time. As he continued on with how they rushed to the hospital, Hiccup looked at his father, noticing how his face was turning red and his knuckles turned white. His lip was curled into his mouth which was now just a straight line. He was angry, but why?

When the nurse came in to give the brunet his medicine, Gobber smiled and helped Stoick to his feet. "We should let you rest. Isn't that right, Stoick?"

After a few grumbles and nods, the two left to sit out in the waiting room. The nurse smiled and injected his pain medicine into his iv. She didn't say much this time around, hardly even looking at him as she threw the needles away in an orange trash bag and asked him how he was feeling on a scale from one to ten. When he told her it was around a three, she smiled and jotted it down, saying that she'd send his friend in an hour, and left.

Hiccup sighed, staring up at the plain ceiling. Every thought in his mind began to sway but he didn't mind very much. He knew it was just the medicine. Slowly, he started to move his shoulder and twist his ankles. His body felt stiff and if he didn't move anything now, it would feel a lot worse later. So, he rolled his ankles in circles and curled his legs up so his knees pointed toward the ceiling. His shoulder moved back and forth, making him groan from the extreme discomfort. At one point, he even tried to stand up but voted against it when he tried to pick his head up and the room swayed worse than any boat he had ever been on.

A quick look at the clock showed that only about twenty minutes have passed. If he knew anything about hospitals it was that when they said they'd be right back, they actually meant they'd be back in about two to three hours. So he wasn't counting on anyone coming in for about another hour and forty-five minutes. He rolled his eyes and tried to fix on something to pass the time. He glanced at the machines next to him, staring at the lines and listening closely to the beeps. They were surprisingly comforting even if they could get annoying to everyone else in the room. He could imagine the actual beat of his heart thumping with the cold sound of the machine. It was an almost soothing thought and he closed his eyes, listening to both his heart beat and the monitor beeping.

To him, only a minute or two passed; his chest slowly rising and falling, his heart beating in his ears. But in real life, a lot more time had passed. Hearing the door open, Hiccup just laid there, not really wanting to open his eyes or take part in whatever was going to happen. So he kept his steady breathing and listened in to whoever had walked in. Light footsteps walked over to him and something sat in the chair next to his bed. As he finally decided to open his eyes, he felt a cold hand hold his.

"Hey…" Jack said softly, Hiccup's vision clearing up as he stared at him. The older of the two smiled and stroked the other's hand with his thumb. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't really think about how he was feeling. All he could really do was stare at the large gauze on his nose and his other arm that was wrapped. "You broke your nose and arm…" Hiccup whispered.

"Yeah." He chuckled and shrugged as best he could. "That's what happens when someone grabs your arm when you try and jump off a bridge."

"Someone…grabbed your arm?"

Jack nodded. "Pitch. When you fell back after being shot, I went to jump in after you. He grabbed my arm and twisted it. It cracked, my nose hit the side of the bridge so hard that it cracked too. Finally, your dad swung at him and I fell in."

"Are you okay?" Hiccup leaned over with a hiss, lightly touching the cast with his hand. "Why'd you do it?"

The other only stared at him as if he was asking why grass was green. His heart began to beat faster than Hiccup's machine ever could and he slowly leaned down, closing his eyes as he felt their lips meet. For a moment, he thought that this was all just a daydream, that it wasn't really happening. But once he pulled away and saw Hiccup with eyes bigger than dinner plates, he knew it had happened.

Seconds turned to hours and even days in their minds as they stared at each other in silence. The heart monitor beeped louder and faster as Hiccup slowly leaned up, pressing his lips back against Jack's. For most of his life, his father always put such behavior down, saying that it was wrong, immoral, and it would ruin him forever to even see it let alone let it happen to him. Though, as Jack caressed his face with his good hand and their lips moved together as one, he wondered what was so bad about something that felt so good. So amazing.

Pulling apart to get some breath, both teens smiled at each other. With a chuckle, the oldest one placed a small kiss at the top of the other's forehead. "I've been waiting forever to do that."

"I know…" Hiccup smiled happily, pulling him down into a hug. "Thank you for waiting."

The rows and rows of screaming inmates were muffled in his small cell. The door was cast iron with only a small window near the top and an opening at the bottom for food. Pitch stared at the wall in front of him, his legs crossed as he sat on his bed. On the other side of that wall was Onyx and beyond that was Red. When he first found out about the arrangement, he couldn't help but laugh at their stupidity. Even now, as he looked over the tally marks that he and other inmates had done in the past, he couldn't stifle his chuckle. It echoed through the room horribly and seemed out of place among the muffled screams of others in their own cells.

Right on time, the bottom opening in the door slid open, a tray of food and a bottle of water pouring from it. He smirked and stood, swiftly walking to the small bared window. "You're ever so kind."

The guard on the other side just scuffed and rolled his eyes, continuing to slide trays and bottles under doors. Pitch smirked as he watched him pass. Once he was out of site, he looked down at the tray and bottle. Toast with rice and some chicken, a plastic spoon and knife sitting off to the side. As his smirk became a maddening smile, he sat down and ate peacefully yet quickly. His food out of the way, he began the slow and horrible process of sharpening the spoon into a fat blade. The guards would become suspicious if a knife, plastic or not, was missing. But a spoon was a completely different story.

A/N: Thank you for all your support! - ADAM

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