Note; Please read: I was feeling really down. So this happened and I thought 'hey why not?' and made the move to post it. Just like Chapter 10, this diverges from what happened in I'll See It when I Believe It. This is the variant wherein Jack and Hiccup's love-life took a bitter turn. Elements from previous chapters and some taken from I'll See It when I Believe It are mixed in here. Again, it's sorta bitter. But this is another look at what their ending could have looked like (if I were somewhat cruel enough).

AGAIN, THIS DIDN'T HAPPEN IN THE ORIGINAL STORY.

But you're welcome to think on it.

Also, for those who requested or suggested a drabble, I'll work on those, I swear it! ;w; things are just kind of hectic right now and this one refused to stay silent.

Disclaimer:I own nothing but a laptop and certain plot elements.

Day 19: Bittersweet

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"You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought." – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

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Winter.

It perhaps began with the unease that mingled in the air, a soft bitterness that dripped across fervid and tender actions from stolen moments into the night. Perhaps it was with the way his grip trembled with desperation against pinked flesh that made the teen's mouth gasp in delight and pain, the way his lips and teeth bore marks down and across his face, neck, and chest, wherever it could reach, wandering to blemish his own brand of perfection to his lover. Perhaps it was the way the ice enclosed around them in possessive passion, the hues of frost and fire melding together and melting into the sensations of love, ardor, and worship that shamed the shades of starlight.

In the back of Hiccup's mind, amongst the tangles of frenzied kisses and teasing tongues that slid against his skin and the way his legs wrapped around Jack's hips to keep him close as each thrust burned pleasantly through his body, gently, roughly, hasty, and torturously slow enough to let his sanity dangle by tiny spider-threads, there was something he needed to say, something important—

There was a muffled cry, Jack swallowing Hiccup's scream as the younger slipped further and further into the Guardian's hold, something that once threatened to break away, utterly subdued by daunting devotion and avaricious affection.

There was a gentle smile from Jack, met with a light kiss from the sixteen year old boy.

And it was all right again. Sleep poured out his mute melody in the silence of night, eyes of blue watching the light slip away from glittering orbs of a shy shade of viridian. A content sigh fluttered from his lips and Jack eased the troubles from his sight; it was something he was accustomed to.

He wasn't blind; he saw the looks and the bashful gazes Hiccup returned. But the teen was honest when he gave the Spirit of Winter his heart, too honest, too trusting, too sure in his actions despite the unknown that lie ahead and the certainties that do.

He still had his love's heart, his sweet smiles and shaky laughs, his hundreds of freckles that dotted his skin to trace with light fingers in the morning, and locks of auburn to slide his fingers through in the afternoons and to grip in the passions of night. Still had Hiccup, his heart, his everything…

But during the day when the teen covered his marks with the worn scarf and when his eyes lit up with friendly affection and budding uncertainty when he meets the girl from Physics B, Jack fell into a despair like none other at the thoughts of how long he was allowed to hold them before they were wrenched away.

But Hiccup would return, his fidelity unfailing, and greet Jack with a happy kiss and a warm hug and it would be okay, a bandage on a breaking heart.

Spring.

He was slipping away, he was sure of it.

Broken dates, lost time, busy days, hectic nights, final exams, research papers, half-hearted apologies, and half-assed excuses.

Grown up. It was the same as before, but somehow different

Because he stood, at eighteen, two inches above Jack. He still had the same goofy smile with his permanently crooked teeth, but the edges of his eyes began to crinkle and his laugh had this deeper baritone to it than from the days when his voice would occasionally crack. Jack could still wrap his arms around him but the teen—no, adult—filled out of his gangly frame and now he couldn't rest his head atop the mop of brunet strands without Hiccup bending down.

Spring brought the brightest of days to the earth, but also heralded the most rain.

And one rainy afternoon, Jack saw them together.

That childhood friend of his that was visiting, the girl with fierce blue eyes and pretty blond hair that seemed to understand Hiccup more than most (but never, never like Jack could) and judging from her shy temperament that contrasted so heavily with her fiery personality, Hiccup only seemed pleasantly baffled at her light blush and her nervous gaze trained on his excited eyes as he regaled to her his amazement at the college visit he took to that university in Norway that he had applied to last winter.

A university she was interested in attending as well.

And something in him ached, something beyond heartbreak at how wonderful they looked together and how perfect everything seemed, how too, too fast it was coming, and how unfair it all was that they seemed to get their happy ending—

but where did that leave him?

It left him with a ghost of a smile as Hiccup turned away from her and to the Winter Spirit and there in his eyes were the remnants of something beautiful that they have, something that neither of them wanted to leave behind, but Hiccup was so bright, so, so very bright that he couldn't ignore how busy Jack became when he gained more and more believers with every passing season and how his visits used to span for weeks and then dwindled down to days and hours a time, how much love there is between them and how much more of everything else that to came betwixt.

Because their little world was crumbling and it wasn't just them anymore.

Growing up never pained him more as the day Hiccup awoke to an empty bed in an empty room, devoid of the familiar cool breath against his skin and the murmurs of winter to lull him back to dreams, the sunbeams glistening from the window as the storm came to pass, droplets of rain and tears smudging the note Jack left behind.

"I love you. Goodbye—because I love you."*

Summer.

He had grown since the last time he saw him.

He wasn't the cute teen he met nine years ago, nor was he the tall and attractive young adult he left behind with nothing but a letter and his heart. He was twenty-five and stunning, hair neatly combed back and dressed handsomely in an expensive tuxedo, the traditional black and white formal ensemble that contrasted heavily with his blushing cheeks and nervous smile which only added to his charm. Jack knew he should have saved this compliment for the bride, but he couldn't help it:

"You look amazing."

He was startled; after all, he thought he was alone within the room he occupied in the small Berkian chapel. But when those eyes of viridian were wide with disbelief, confusion, and hurt, it was probably because he recognized the voice the moment he heard it. "Y-you're here…"

Jack's gaze found the floor before nervously meeting Hiccup's. "I'm here..." he admitted softly.

"Why?" And those pretty eyes were watering as the whisper left his lips, something like betrayal, relief, and sadness mixing into the question.

And what else was Jack to do but say the truth? "Because—I love you. And…it's time that I let you go." That was what he came for, but he was already warned that such a thing was harder to do than anything else.

Hiccup shook his head, wiping any tears that threatened to fall with a sleeve. "Not even a proper goodbye, Jack? Again?" He tried to force a laugh, but it cracked at the end with a small sob as something inside the Spirit of Winter broke at the mere sound of it.

"I—I apparently never learn," he sighed, frustration and regret bubbling, fit to erupt at wrongs he could be too late to mend. "I'm here to fix that."

"You…don't seem ready," the brunet replied pointedly.

And he took a good look at Hiccup and he still saw that same teen from nine years ago, confronting challenges he was never truly certain of but willing to give everything he had. "Neither do you."

The man shrugged. "We all have to let go sometime, Jack."

"Then today's the day to do it," he agreed, but somewhere along the words, his will was lost within the tangles and turmoil of his heart.

"…I'm scared, Jack," he confessed.

And Jack was at his side at once, arms uncomfortably wrapped around the shoulders that he could no longer reach without floating. "Don't be. Astrid's a wonderful woman."

The returned embrace sheltered him wholly, the despair and solitude melting away from that everlasting warmth the boy—no, man—emitted as he shakily admitted, "I'm scared that—scared that I still love you more than I could ever love her."

"Shh…c'mon now," he soothed, yet he knew in his heart that those words did more than reveal the man's fears; they eased the ache of years of heartache and mistakes. "Don't get cold feet," the Frost Spirit chided.

There was an annoyed sigh before Hiccup replied. "I'm serious, Jack."

"And so am I." Reluctantly, he drew away, a cold hand cupping a freckled cheek. His eyes searched through the depths of those irises of endless Junes, finding both agony and forgiveness, love and apprehension and Jack knew he could make things right again. "Look, I came down here today…because we both deserve to be happy, okay?" He brushed the stray tears that rolled hopelessly down. "Now, I won't lie—I love you and have never stopped loving you. Not since the six years I left and probably not for another six thousand to this day. I love you." And that was the single most beautiful truth Jack could cling to. "But I love you enough to know that I can't keep you for myself…not when you have others waiting for you."

And then there was a hand holding his, bringing it close to Hiccup's heart where it fluttered beneath the Guardian's touch, for him, but not for him alone. "I love you, Jack. And I love Astrid, but never doubt that I love you."

The Ice Spirit leaned forward, tenderly pressing his lips to a tear-stained cheek. "Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love," he recited, pulling his hand to him, an icy kiss pressed to still-delicate fingers.

Despite the vibrant blush and small streams of tears traveling down his cheeks, Hiccup laughed. "Was that Shakespeare?"

"I ran into Cupid before I got here," he confessed.

The man gave him a wry smile. "Gave you directions, huh?"

"Yep." He looked to their fingers, still entwined after all these years. Giving them one last squeeze, he let them go. "She's waiting for you, Hiccup."

"I know…" he murmured quietly. "I'm scared you'll leave again."

Jack shook his head and helped to pull the man towards the door. "This isn't goodbye—this isn't the end. Think of it as something else."

There as a shaky breath from the brunet as he considered it. "Something new…"

He nodded, smiling as he bit back the tears. "Yeah…beginnings are strange like that, aren't they?" No, he didn't care if Hiccup saw him crying like a baby; this occasion warranted such a thing didn't it? "Now go, they won't wai—"

And how he missed the other's lips covering his own, the same tingles of love and pleasure dancing down his veins, the same fire that ignited sparks down his spine, the reassurance and the promises they both swore to keep, the sweetest pain, and the loveliest torture were found in his lips as they moved against his, burning the memory into his skin because this was the last, oh Jack knew, it was the last of Hiccup's kisses he would ever have. The brunet was panting heavily, cheeks streaked with tears and painted with shades of red as he murmured against Jack's lips, "Oh continue to love me— never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved. Ever thine, ever mine…ever ours." And there came that last kiss—simple, wonderful, and brimming with love, the same love that swam in their eyes as Hiccup pulled away. "Beethoven," he informed with a sad smile.

There was a happiness that welled up from within, breaking through the sorrow. Something like a pleasant parasite that fed off of the love between Hiccup and his bride, something that made his heart pulse with joy rather than bitterness at their union, the thorny tendrils of love squeezing his bleeding organ as they recited their vows, as the words, "I do," left Hiccup's lips, as Astrid's covered them, and as cheers erupted from the church, his own shouts of bliss going out to Hiccup—the lovely groom—to take his happiness and do what he wants with it, because his happiness was Jack's.

Compersion, it was called. A gladness that derived itself from a former lover's elation. At least, that's what Cupid called it.

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"Free to be, free to age, free to fade, free to stay, free to fly away. Because love lives anyways." – M.A.D.

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Autumn.

"Let me see her, let me see her!" Jack peered excitedly into the crib only to be lightly shoved away before his excitement started a whole mess of crying. The father plucked the baby from her confines and the Ice Spirit's eyes positively glowed with excitement.

"All right, all right, sheesh…" Hiccup rolled his eyes. It was hard to believe Jack was supposed to be eighteen rather than eight. He looked down to the precious bundle in his arms, little fingers grasping the folds of her blanket. "Be careful now…" he warned as he gently handed her to the bouncy teen.

Said bouncing stopped at once as Jack's face lit up with awe and adoration, holding the little one close to his chest and admired the small miracle. "…Hiccup…she's beautiful," he breathed, eyes gazing gently at her tufts of blonde hair, baby-pink skin, and adorably chubby face that seemed to concentrate on keeping her precious eyes closed.

"Yep, takes after her mom," Hiccup admitted proudly.

Jack wanted to disagree; no, she was beautiful just like her father. He smiled to himself at the thought, swaying in place gently. "Can I…can I hold her just a bit longer?"

The man shrugged, grinning as the Guardian beamed. "Of course."

And Jack continued to smile, cuddling the baby close and hoping that his body temperature wouldn't seep through the cozy cover. He didn't know when he started doing it, but after a while, he began to rock the baby girl softly, humming a familiar tune…their song. And if Hiccup noticed how the melody sounded suspiciously like memories of night-time showers and mid-day grocery shopping, he didn't say a word.

It was something almost magical and Jack felt his heart lurch as thin eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings to reveal eyes of summer gazing curiously at her captor. "…Hiccup…she's looking at me."

There was a chuckle, a tired and happy one that didn't seem surprised one bit. "Well, of course. She takes after her daddy too," he declared with a satisfied grin.

And Jack laughed, pure and genuine as it was in years, lightly bouncing the baby against his hip. "Look at her…ah, this'll be great! When she's old enough, I can show her how to throw snowballs, make her first snowman, go sledding—"

The man frowned. "Hey hold on now. She's my daughter you know…"

"It's my season, yanno." Jack rolled his eyes and continued to rock and sway, keeping the baby from the thresholds of boredom. She didn't seem to mind one bit.

"Of course it is Jack," Hiccup replied and if Jack was right, his voice definitely contained traces of sarcasm. He dearly hoped that she inherited her father's marvelous sense of humor. "Still…give her time, would ya?"

At that, the Winter Spirit's lips quirked to form a grin. "Yeah, sure. No need for you to be jealous." He calmed down and it was almost peaceful; the baby's eyes began to droop once more as Hiccup readied her crib for bed and Jack utterly entranced by the wonderful little child of his Hiccup…until the baby squirmed and loosened the blanket. Unfortunately for Jack, due to his excitement, cold could only be an understatement to describe his body temperature. The first of little blubbers erupted before her daddy was at her side, wrapping a familiar scarf over her.

Hiccup sighed. "Keep that around her…baby skin is sensitive."

"R-right…" Unsteadily, he held the bulk of cloth and baby again, finding her displeased expression at the movement restriction entirely adorable. He grinned, cooing at her once his arms were steady. "It's okay sweetie…Uncle Jack's gotcha…" She seemed to calm upon Jack's unsteady offering of an old toy—a little bear of pure white and black button-eyes that held more precious memories than it did stuffing.

Hiccup chortled and raised a brow at the Winter Spirit, any comment on the gift unnecessary. "Uncle Jack?"

"Yep." he affirmed. "I am her Guardian, right?" he demanded.

Hiccup resisted rolling his eyes. "Right." As if he needed to ask.

Then the Ice Spirit became quiet, almost nervous as he hesitantly met Hiccup's gaze, holding the baby close. "And I'm…still yours, right?"

There was a soft smile on his face before Hiccup leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Jack's forehead. "Always," he promised.

And from behind the nursery's door, Astrid strained her ears to catch the laughter that spilled from her husband's lips as he cradled their baby girl, a ghost of a long-lost lover dancing in his memories as he introduced their child to naught but the moon's eyes.

She always knew, despite his love for her, love for their daughter, love for them, a large part of his heart belonged to someone long gone, someone's name that he still whispered in the coldest nights and when the first flurries of snow drifted down from the skies, when the first frost flowers bloomed without fail every year at the birth of winter.

But that was okay.

She sighed, and as always, let her husband be. Because he loved her and she loved him and sometimes, second place wasn't so bad.

Fall.

Every year, he grew frailer.

The fragile teen blossomed before his very eyes and as time trudged on, he withered as well. That didn't deter Jack one bit. Every winter, he would take Hiccup's hand, no matter how shaky it had grown, no matter how liver spots overtook the once-vibrant freckles, and how glittering green eyes dulled to a glow of wisdom from a lifetime of missteps and discoveries. And even as auburn hair slowly faded to a shade that rivaled his own, even as Jack had to slow his steps so that he could showcase this year's creation with half zeal and half worry because while Hiccup never complained, certainly many elder folk had more than their share of things to say regarding the bitter cold and brittle bones, even if Jack had to help push Hiccup in his wheelchair, that'd be okay.

Because he was still Hiccup. The same boy from when he was fifteen and awkward became the same man he was at eighty and venerable.

He lived a good life, three kids and four grandchildren that both he and Jack adored to bits. And though that revered brain of his sometimes slipped, a name or two mixed in confusion, a face or some other forgotten, a wrinkly smile would form and something sparked in his eyes whenever Jack came around, someone and something between them that never failed in memory, as the Guardian of Fun paraded him through the forest to see winter unfold before him.

It became their ritual.

Jack would babble on and on and Hiccup would half-listen, half-turn off his hearing aid, and he would just grin at the Winter Spirit before coughing out a laugh when the Frost Spirit realized Hiccup hadn't caught a word and berate him for it. And every winter, they would complete their little ritual after Hiccup grew too old to play and chase after the kids as they chased after Jack. And every winter, Jack would present Hiccup with a stunning garden of frost flowers near the lake where ice dragons once roamed and where an Ice Spirit came to the realization that he fell in love with a teenage boy.

And every winter, they would be reminded that Hiccup was (now) eighty and still in love, Jack was (now) three hundred and sixty-six, and very much in love for the last sixty-five of those years. And every winter, they would celebrate all that they have, all that they share, all that they are. Because there was still a them to hold on to.

Except this year.

Aina, the youngest of the Haddock grandchildren, clung to her mother, one hand grasping the black fabric of her skirt, the other hand grasping Jack's cold fingers. Jack only stared off, dully noting the elegance of the wooden frame, regal and expensive in its rich ochre shade. It was a pretty box that was lowered into the ground. A pretty box where Hiccup's heart slept because it was just that: a very, very long sleep, such a long sleep that eternity fall into slumber along with it as Hel solemnly flicked the lights off and locked the doors of the universe behind her. It was so much simpler to think in those terms because no, it couldn't—he can't—he won't, no, no death was such an ugly word, such an ugly thing, and he refused because Hiccup, his sweet, sweet love, couldn't— nonono—

He can't stand the thought of Hiccup inside such a thing. A grand and imperial looking kind of tomb of wood and satins as Hiccup's chest laid still and his mouth fell silent as his eyes never opened that Sunday morning and no, no, nononono—!

The November breeze swept through the procession and Jack couldn't help but think it unfair that they couldn't even have one last winter together. And as the hours droned on, Jack stood, listless and deaf to the tears and cries that bemoaned the loss of a great friend, husband, father, grandfather, not realizing that it was not just Astrid who lost the love of their life that day. The tears trickled down, but he did not move to wipe it away. Even as Aina was dragged off by her older cousin Johan who harshly whispered to her to let the spirit be for a while, Jack did not move. Even as the crowd dwindled, eventually leaving him behind as time oft does and the afternoon grew stale and the sun prepared to retire, he did not move.

And now, there was nothing left but a slab of stone with a name Jack never used etched onto it. On there was Hamish, not Hiccup as it should have been, and it was so silly that something as small as a name cut into a piece of rock could bother him so much when all along he knew that it was a cover—a cover of something much deeper that tore at his this was the end and his heart knew it, collapsing into quiet rather than continuing to ache with every beat. He knew it would come to this and he had no regrets. How could he? His short lifetime with Hiccup made him the happiest he had ever been…and also the most miserable.

But what's done is done and though unsure how, he would make it through. For both of them. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself.

"Winds…take me home," he rasped, wanting to drift away to the skies that no doubt held his beloved somewhere he can't reach. He was met with emptiness, a resounding void that cruelly reminded him just how alone he was. "Winds!" he cried again and was met with nothing. 'Nothing', something echoed in his mind with such sorrow that he felt himself fall apart at the very seams. And suddenly the grief was back, suffocating him, leaving him breathless as the pain bore down on him, the floodgates crashing open and leaving him to drown, mind dizzy and legs almost giving out from the sheer anguish and he knew he had to get away, had to leave everything behind including the pieces of his broken heart, and he was then so, so glad that not a soul could see him like this, stricken with a loss so overbearing and overwhelming that it threatened to swallow him whole. He gasped and could only inhale his own mourning and he had to get away, had to leave, had to, had to, had to. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, desolation multiplying as the familiar weight of Jökul pressed in vacant comfort against him, the last he has of his love. It was too much. In an agonized gasp, he faced the silent heavens. "Wi—"

"I heard you the first time."

And Jack stopped breathing altogether. "Wha—" 'That voice…'

"I…didn't hear a 'please,'" came the sheepish reply and when the Guardian of Winter turned, his knees nearly buckled at the sight before him.

And it had to be a cruel joke, the small string of sanity snapping with a resounding twang as he made a pitiful attempt to straighten himself and rub his eyes furiously to expel the taunting illusions…only to find that same, familiar crooked smile barely holding on, quivering to restrain a cry, viridian orbs glimmering with tears bravely unshed.

"Y-you're here…" Jack sobbed, cautiously stepping towards the same face and figure he only saw in torturous dreams and lovelorn fantasies.

He nodded, strands of auburn dancing with the wind to a choked laugh, a few tears sliding down his freckled cheeks, resolution breaking. "I'm here," Hiccup replied with a shaky grin and soon he wasn't able to speak another word as icy lips met his and love and happiness swelled to the size of eternity as Jack wrapped his arms around his thin and gangly frame never to let go, an old habit that not even time could wear away, could never take away.

He brought the other spirit close, as if locking two puzzles in the right place, fitting together perfectly. "You're here…" Jack whispered again, burying his head atop the other's, the scent of ancient forests and the spray of the ocean swimming through his senses.

"You already said that," the brunet replied as he drew away with a cheeky grin and what else was Jack to do than to smother it with yet another kiss? It was really him. Same sarcasm, same wit, same snarky comebacks. Same viridian eyes, same freckly face, same warmth, same love. It was him. And now there was a them once more.

Them. There was a them, there was a they, there was a we, and there was an us. And there always would be.

Hiccup's shout of shock and bliss echoed through the early winter or late fall air as Jack tugged him over the cities and clouds, sunsets promising new beginnings and unwritten endings, the tears in his eyes turning to snow, words refusing to form from his sobbing and gasping mouth at the sight of the forever-fifteen-year-old boy in his arms, looking back at him with the same love and devotion as if they had never been apart, the feel of him returning his embrace, his warmth capable of melting away winter's lonely grip, and the wild winds beneath their feet as they soared in unison, Icarus never falling, nothing else existing for the two cherished wishes come true but that moment, cycling, and everlasting. And sometime after he found his voice again, Hiccup subsequently lost the heart to tell Jack to stop saying, "I love you, I love you," over and over again as winds carried them. He didn't need to say it; its sonata sang in their hearts for sixty-five years and would play in everlasting overtures evermore.

With seeing came believing, a tandem, a perpetual cycle of faith against the impossible; with believing came seeing, a topsy-turvy cyclone of chance, fate, and above all— love.

And beneath the display, two figures guarded by, sentinels of the reunion, hidden away by the gnarls of old oaks and golden leaves.

"So…the Spirit of Autumn, huh?" Bunnymund watched the air around them, swirling and mingling with frost, leaves, and beauty in its intricate design, the two lovers out of sight, alone and together. A perfect paradox. He turned to his ex-partner, an old rival, and an older friend. "What made ya think o' that?"

There was a small smile on her lips as she turned to him, a lightness in her heart that never seemed to fade, only briefly forgotten. "Because wherever Autumn is…Winter will follow."And Cupid laughed, further goaded by the bewildered look on Aster's face and the slight disgruntlement that gleamed in his eyes at her corny joke, the bonds of centuries long past breaking away to take the gentle ring off to other skies.

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"Whither thou goest, I will go." – Ruth 1:16

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*= Quoted from Robert Lebrun in Kate Chopin's The Awakening.

Hiccup became the Spirit of Autumn, the Embodiment of Winds, and eventually a Guardian of Change; concept by yakfrost on Tumblr.

"You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought. But be free to be, free to age, free to fade, free to stay, free to fly away. Because love lives anyways. And whither thou goest, I will go."

Oh lord. Yeah. Sorry. I might take this down later.