Pairing: Jack x Hiccup

Genre: Romance, Drama + Angst

Warning: NC-17/T

Warning: only half beta-read

All characters belong to Cressida Cowell, William Joyce and DreamWorks Studio. May contain some OOCness.

Pascal's law – a change in pressure at any point in an enclosed fluid at rest is transmitted undiminished to all points in the fluid.

Jack welcomed the low hiss of a can being opened with a pleasure.

"Here you go." Hiccup said, moving the can closer to his face, almost touching his forehead in the process.

Jack untangled his hands from each other and reached towards the blue can that was being offered to him. The Pepsi was incredibly cold against his suddenly warm fingers. It almost seemed frozen and it scratched the back of his throat as he took a big sip.

Hiccup sat next to him on the bench and slowly drank from his own can. Iced tea – so different than Jack's carbonated drink.

Jack wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure he should be saying anything at all in the end, especially right now. His every attempt at apology had been shot down by a very angry Hiccup.

And Hiccup had every right to be angry.

Jack had fucked up greatly. He shouldn't blame it on alcohol, even though it made him more open. No, Jack was the one to blame right now. No one else. He should have controlled himself more.

"Your phone is vibrating." Hiccup noted.

Indeed it was. It was a never ending storm of new messages, one after another, one after another. It seemed like the popularity he had lost some time ago had come back, but in a different form.

Jack hated it.

He took out his phone, barely paying any mind to the names appearing on the screen and fully silenced his phone, throwing it next to him on the bench. It rattled with a heavy thud, but at this point Jack barely cared.

He didn't need to see what they were writing to him.

Hiccup slowly sipped his drink, staring at the sparse cars that passed the streets at this hour. The lights coming from their headlights illuminated their faces for a brief moment, but then they were moving away, leaving them sitting alone on a bench nearby a 7-Eleven.

It definitely wasn't a pinnacle of his life. More like one of the darkest bottoms.

He felt miserable. Empty. Hollow. Shattered to pieces. It felt like the reality he had carved, he had embroidered had disappeared in front of his eyes.

"So… that is one way to end the night." Hiccup finally murmured, clasping the can in both of his hands and staring at the now empty road in front of them.

Jack wasn't sure how to answer that, while not adding an apology to it, so he remained silent.

Hiccup sighed, moving his one hand up and brushing his cheek. He stared at his palm later on, rotating it, like he was trying to find something on it.

(Jack had seen the wet traces on the skin and the redness below the eyes. He had seen the small crystal droplets falling down. But for now they stopped.)

"The cat is out of the bag." Hiccup continued, rolling the can in his hand and staring at the back of it. "To be fair, it had to happen at some point."

"Yeah, but it could have happened after a few years." Jack whispered, feeling like his voice didn't belong to him. It was croaky and screechy, nothing like the pure confident voice he had had just an hour ago.

Hiccup shrugged, exhaling slowly.

"Lies can't be hidden for long."

"But it had to happen right now?"

Hiccup looked at him and then diverted his gaze.

"Yeah…" He finally said. "It really sucks that everyone found out about it today."

It was supposed to be one of the best nights of their lives, but it had become a disaster in just a few minutes. It was awfully short span of time. Not months, not days, not hours, just a few minutes had been enough for everything to crumble down.

Jack exhaled heavily, wanting to cover his face with his hands, but being unable to due to the can resting there. So he only moved it closer to his forehead, propping it there and whispering:

"I'm sorry."

"I told you not to say that."

"Doesn't change the fact that I am sorry. I fucked up. I'm at fault here."

This time Hiccup sighed loudly.

Jack felt alienated. Like he didn't belong. And maybe Hiccup felt like that too. Maybe he also felt like a piece of a puzzle that didn't fit the whole picture. It seemed like them and the rest of the world were two different things right now, even when they had fit so nicely some time ago.

(But had they really fit there, when it all had been built on a lie?)

"I don't think you're entirely at fault here." Hiccup said.

Jack groaned.

"How… how are you not mad at me? I fucked up. I spilled the truth in front of everyone and they all hate us right now! I messed up."

Hiccup moved his one hand and brushed his forehead.

"Well to be honest I don't really care what other people think."

"You couldn't care less about it, but it's still problematic when people hate you." Jack bit back.

"Maybe you're right." Hiccup nodded. "But in the end I don't think all of them hate us. Some do, but some probably don't care about it."

"Didn't feel like it back then."

"Give it time." Hiccup said and leaned on the bench.

Jack curled his back, resting his elbows on the knees and leaning forward. He took another sip of the cola, feeling it mixing with the alcohol inside his stomach, forming something that definitely wouldn't be nice during the next morning.

"Still–"

"If you're going to say 'sorry' one more time I swear I will–" Hiccup started, raising his voice and stopping in the middle, when no good threat came to his mind. "I don't know, be angry at you too, I guess."

"It's not nice to kick the person who is already laying down."

"Hey, we're both in this together. So it means I'm also laying down and because we're on the same level I can kick you."

"That is not nice of you then."

"I never told you I'm a nice guy, it was your job."

It was a lame joke, but Jack still let out a dry chortle that scratched his throat and tongue. There wasn't a lot of happiness in it, but it was something. Not entirely good, but it was moving in the right direction.

For some time they sat there, in front of the supermarket, sipping drinks and observing occasional cars passing them by. Once a 7-Eleven worker went out, glanced at them, but then shrugged and proceeded to go and throw the trash away. No new customer came. It was around two am, so it wasn't really that surprising.

Jack wondered how the party was going. He wondered where Heather was. Where Dagur had gone? Had they left Aster alone? That hadn't been nice of them. Heather was – had been – Aster's plus one at the party and he had made her escape, leaving Bunny alone.

He was a bad friend. Jack wondered if Aster was angry at him. He should be. Jack deserved it. He deserved all those bad things that definitely were spoken between people.

He was only a liar in the end.

"I'm not a good person." Jack finally whispered, feeling like he had to say it out loud.

"Just because you did something bad, it doesn't actually mean you're a bad person."

"How doing something bad is not making me a bad person?" Jack asked, moving angrily his one hand through his white hair and looking at Hiccup with frustrated gaze.

The red skin beneath Hiccup's eyes was incredibly visible. Why had Hiccup cried? He had told Jack that he hadn't cared what others had thought of him and Jack had had no reason not to believe him. He knew it was true. Hiccup wasn't this type of person that cared what other people thought of him.

Yet something had happened that had made him cry, that had made the tears run down the cheeks.

It probably also had been Jack's fault.

Hiccup huffed.

"You would be a bad person, if you didn't care about the consequences of your choices. But you do worry. You are in pain because you hurt others. You are scared, because you assume that people will think bad of you and won't trust you. However you never wanted to hurt them. You just did things to protect yourself. But wanting to protect yourself is not a bad trait." He took a small sip. "Everyone makes mistakes. All our lives we are making errors, big and small, important and not. This is a part of living and we can't change it. What matters are the things we do after making the mistakes, our feelings and our motivations." Hiccup turned to him, looked right into his eyes and simply said. "You're not a bad person Jack. I can't promise you that we will fix it. But I'm sure people who are important to you won't think any less of you."

Jack felt like his heart stopped in his chest. There were a few imps of discourage, of distrust, of disbelieve floating in his lungs. He couldn't really fully believe Hiccup's words, not yet. Maybe not even ever. But he cherished them as they made his chest lighter, made it a little bit easier to take another breath.

It wasn't okay. And it wasn't going to be okay for some time. Jack would have to learn to live with the new reality that he had painted in front of them.

"And remember, we're in this together." Hiccup added, smiling at him softly. "Aren't we?"

There was a sudden spark of fear in Hiccup's voice, a tiny particle of doubt and uncertainty mixing, whirring inside the eyes.

And Jack noticed that until now he had been mostly drowning in his own self-pity, even though he wasn't the only one being pulled by a whirlpool of consequences. Along the way he had grabbed Hiccup. Poor, little Hiccup who simply had tried to keep his face above the water, dragging Jack's lifeless body with him.

The thought was a tad comforting, no matter how terrible it sounded, to have someone who shared the same fate with him.

He reached and touched Hiccup's hand, who unclasped it from the can, so Jack could interlock their fingers and tighten the grip for a second, hoping to send comforting waves through the connection.

And then Jack of course had to open his mouth.

"We're all in this together." He sung, letting his voice be carried by the wind in the middle of the night.

Hiccup groaned loudly, terribly loud, and let go of Jack's hand to punch his shoulder.

"Way to ruin the moment, Jack."

Maybe he kinda did, but to be fair and honest Jack didn't feel like it made the moment worse. For him it made it a little bit better, especially as the delicate, hesitant smile adored Hiccup's face.

It wasn't perfect, but it was something. And it was nice to know that he could lean on someone who was in the same mess.

"So what are we going to do from now on?" Jack asked. "The plan is blown, there is no reason to act anymore."

And it kinda hurt. Jack knew that it all had been fake, but for just a few moments he could live the sweetest minutes of his life. For a moment he could believe that Hiccup had had the same feelings towards him. For a few minutes everything had been right in the world.

But it had ended and they had to face the harsh and honest reality.

"Well yeah, that would be counterproductive from now on. I suppose we should simply act normal from now on, not ignoring that it happened, but not making a big deal out of it either. If someone asks about it, we will simply tell the truth." Hiccup spoke, looking forward and tapping his finger on the aluminum can in his hand. "Or at least this is what I think is the best solution in this situation."

Jack nodded.

Honestly, this was probably the best thing they could do right now. Jack felt the need to apologize, but he didn't know how he would even do that. He wished he could explain it all to the people he had deceived. He wished he could simply make it all better.

But he couldn't.

And even if he could give an honest explanation, how many people would believe him? How many would trust him after that? How many would forgive him?

Plus, he would have to put Heather in a bad light by explaining everything and he didn't want that. Heather didn't need that. It seemed that she had learned, moved forward, brushed away the old self and Jack didn't want to be the one to remind her about it.

He didn't want her to have problems.

So maybe taking it all on himself wasn't such a terrible idea.

"Yeah, act like nothing happened, cool, cool, okay, I can do that." Jack said, moving his one hand to comb it through his locks. "I'm fine with that."

"Are you really?" Hiccup asked.

"Not really, but I also think this is the best option here." Jack sighed, feeling the burden weighing him down and the waves pushing the boat around, threating to push it underwater. "It's just so messy right now."

"It is." Hiccup admitted, one more time lifting his hand and brushing the corner of his eye left. "But we have to push through it, somehow." A small pause. "It will be okay one day."

"Seriously, who are you and what did you do to Hiccup?" Jack asked, hinting on a joking tone. He felt like he only partially managed to do it, as his voice cracked in the middle. "Hiccup is never optimistic!"

Hiccup glanced at him – with the crimson tones beneath the eyes, a runny nose, a disheveled hair, the askew clothes, probably still kinda drunk and not fully knowing what was happening around him – and dared to hit him on the shoulder one more time.

"One more word and I'll stop lifting up your spirit."

This was exactly what Hiccup was doing. Helping Jack's mood get better.

And here was Jack, only on the receiving end and not giving anything back in return. He was only taking when Hiccup clearly had something heavy on his soul and mind.

Such great friend he was.

"Hey Hiccup, are you oka–"

"Your dad is calling you."

Jack blinked, taken aback by the sudden interruption. Nevertheless he glanced down at the bench, more specifically at the phone laying there. Indeed a familiar name blinked on the screen.

He cringed internally. Why was his dad calling him at such hour? They agreed that Jack would call him if he needed anything, not the other way around.

But then something could have happened. Maybe Emma had had to go to a hospital? Maybe there had been an emergency at Tara's work? Maybe North had a problem and he needed Jack's help?

He grabbed the phone, took a deep breath and clicked the green button.

"Hey, North. Something happened?"

He really tried to sound normal, maybe even cheerful, but it was incredibly hard to do so with the hurricane inside his ribcage.

"Jack." His dad said on the other side.

He didn't sound angry, but then Jack hadn't often heard him mad. To be fair, Jack thought that North would be more disappointed than angry. And maybe in the end it was way worse than anger.

"Yeah?" He breathed out.

"Aster called me and asked if you were home. And you clearly aren't. I tried to get some info out of him to know what happened, but he wouldn't tell me a thing. He simply told me to ask you to call him, so I'm doing that." North exhaled slowly, tiredly.

It seemed that Bunny's call had woken him up from the sleep he had drifted to.

Jack felt his insides twisting uncomfortably. Now the whole weight of what actually had happened and what had to follow after crashed on his shoulder. The whole school knew. It was simply a matter of time before his family got to know the truth too.

"Okay, I'll call him." Jack murmured, moving his hand to brush his forehead, feeling Hiccup's eyes on him. "Thanks for telling me."

It could be the end of the conversation. Right now Jack really wanted it to end. But he knew life wasn't like that. He knew North wasn't like that. And Jack should have known better.

"Jack, did something happen?" North asked, quietly, like he was afraid that by raising the voice he would disturb someone.

He wasn't sure how to answer. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say in the end. Maybe truth would be the best, so he said just that.

"Yeah, something did." He whispered.

"Are you alright?" North quickly inquired, the soft tone interlacing with the words.

Was Jack alright? Not really. He wouldn't be for some time. Maybe long time, maybe short time, who knew? Jack definitely didn't.

He glanced at Hiccup who sent him an encouraging smile.

"No, not really."

"Do you want to talk?"

"No, at least not right now. Later…" Jack inhaled deeply. "Later we need to talk. I need to tell you something."

"Okay." North whispered back. "Do you need some help right now? A lift home? Is Hiccup with you? Is he alright?"

A lot of question. Jack's mind needed a moment to really comprehend them all and understand the meaning.

"No, I'm okay, I don't need a lift right now." They probably would walk home right after this talk. "And Hiccup is fine. He's here with me."

"Okay, that's good." North inhaled deeply on the other side, tiredly. He probably wasn't fully awake right now, with the Morpheus tugging on the golden strings of his consciousness. "I'm glad that you're both okay. If you need anything from me, give me a call."

"I will." Jack said, nodding.

"Bye Jack."

"See you later."

And with that he finished the call.

He straightened his back and glanced up at the sky covered with thousands of stars, weaved together, forming navy blue canvas of the universe. It was so wide, so big, so large, moving, stretching into oblivion and still growing. In comparison Jack was so incredibly small.

Yet all the problems that clogged his mind right now felt so enormous.

"North?" Hiccup asked.

Jack nodded, feeling his muscles screeching as he rolled his shoulder.

"Yeah. Apparently Bunny called him. But he didn't tell him much." Jack repeated what he had heard from his dad in case Hiccup wouldn't be able to hear both of the voices in the stillness of the night.

The door to the 7-Eleven pipped up happily as the worker went out for a cig. He glanced at them one more time, but other than that didn't pay them much mind. The workers here were probably used to weird people sitting nearby in the middle of the night while drinking Pepsi and tea. Nothing out of the ordinary for such a convenient store.

"Oh." Hiccup mumbled. "You probably should call Aster and tell him… well something. We kinda left him alone there."

Jack huffed, but knew Hiccup was right. They had left him all alone there, on the minefield only to fend for himself.

(He knew Aster wouldn't be mad about it. Maybe not fully furious, only a little bit angry, but Jack knew he would forgive them.)

"I know." Jack said and then one more time leaned forward, rolling the phone in his hands.

He gave himself a few seconds to calm his heart and mind, let the anxiousness and tiredness seep a little bit away from his body, leaving a numb sensation beneath the skin and inside the skull, and only then clicked on the familiar name in the contact list.

Jack put the phone near his ear, but then moved it down and clicked a speaker icon on the screen, making the beeps audible for both of them.

Hiccup glanced at him and smiled in gratitude. He was also in this and deserved to know what kind of situation they had left behind. Plus they were friends too.

The call went for only one more signal before Aster picked up.

"Finally. I've called you like eighteen times." Aster grumbled, a hint of angry tone clinging to the last word. "You could at least have sent a message that you're alive!"

"Sorry, I… wasn't in a mood." Jack explained, moving his one hand to massage his eyes. "By the way, you're on loud. Hiccup can also hear you."

Hiccup moved a tad closer and said:

"Hey Aster."

"Hey to you too, Hiccup." Bunny said and then sighed heavily.

There was a beat of silence when neither of them spoke, allowing the wind to brush past them and sit down, next to Jack's hip.

"So how is the situation?" Jack finally asked.

He wanted to know the answer to this question and not, both in the same time. Part of him told him that he shouldn't think about it, that he should brush that thought away for tonight.

"You mean at prom?" Aster asked. "I don't know, I left a few minutes after you and have been trying to get ahold of you ever since."

"Uh sorry again, my fault. I'm not really in the mood to talk."

"I understand, but a tip whether you're alive or not still would be nice." Aster huffed through the connection, letting the static sizzle in the air around them.

Hiccup curled in on himself, pushing the sleeves of the suit above his hands while staring at the phone.

"I'm sorry, I should have done that." Jack admitted.

"Well, the important thing is that you and Hiccup are fine." Aster mumbled.

There was a rustling sound on the other side, but other than that Jack couldn't hear many sounds. Which confirmed that Bunny indeed had moved away from the party to some more secluded place. Was he at home? Somehow Jack couldn't imagine his friend doing that.

No, he had to be somewhere else. Maybe walking around in search of Jack and Hiccup? Or maybe he was trying to find Heather? That was also possible, quite much too.

"We are." Jack said.

They weren't okay, but they were fine, safe if he could even call it that.

"How about you? Where are you?"

"I'm at Heather's place right now actually."

Oh, so Jack was right.

He felt a lump appearing in his throat, forming a heavy weight that clogged the passage and barely allowed him to speak further. It was like a dam, blocking the river, allowing only for the small streams to escape through the tiny gaps.

"And how is… she?" Jack hoarsely asked.

Hiccup leaned closer, curiously peeking at the phone like by doing it the universe could simply answer the questions that plagued their minds.

"Well, I would say not great considering the fact that Dagur is nowhere to be found."

"What?" It was Hiccup who spoke first, beating Jack to it, even though the words were already forming at the back of his tongue.

"You saw him running out of the prom, right? Heather tried to catch him, but he escaped and no one knows where he is right now. He isn't picking his phone up either."

This definitely didn't sound good. That sounded the opposite of good.

"And no one else have seen him?"

"Not that I know of. Heather tried calling a few of his friends, but he didn't contact them today."

Hiccup next to him was gripping tightly his trousers, staring at the phone with wide eyes, letting the small trembles run across his back.

Something was wrong.

"This definitely doesn't sound good." Jack mumbled, feeling the tiredness moving through his bloodstream.

There was a tug on his arm, fingers encircling the fold of his shirt and gripping tightly.

Jack turned to look at Hiccup who stared back at him with wide eyes.

"Jack, we need to get there."

"What?"

"Dagur's disappearance. It's my fault."

"What are you saying?" Jack asked, staring at his companion.

Hiccup gripped tighter the material on Jack's arm, wrinkling it terribly, forming oceans of waves in the middle of the storm. The hold was so strong that Jack was afraid the teen could rip the shirt apart.

"I was with him when Heather started shouting at you. He heard everything. He knew what we, what I did." The words were sputtered, barely even resembling words, perhaps more similar to a mix of something that should be real and yet wasn't. There was tremor to the voice, primal fear that scratched the nails along the stone walls while trying to get out. "Oh God, Jack, what if something happened to him?" This sentence was whispered, broken in the middle by a sudden sniffle and horrified blink of the eyes.

Hiccup was terrified.

"Nothing happened to him." Jack said, looking at the teen and touching his shoulder. "I'm sure he is fine and well. Just… not in the place he should be right now."

Only Jack wasn't sure if Dagur was okay at all. He knew what the teen could do. He knew what despair could make humans do. He knew everything about broken hearts, deceptions, betrayals and the cold hands of devastation gripping the chest.

It wasn't a good place to be in, in the middle of the night, drunk, away from people who cared about you.

So he spoke, yet he didn't believe his own words. He moved his mouth, yet it felt fake, artificial, giving only the necessary amount of good feelings to calm the hazy minds.

"I'm siding with Jack on this one. I'm sure he is alright." Aster's static voice came from the phone.

Hiccup didn't look convinced, not even one bit. His chest was heaving, there was a lost look in his eyes and his hands were as pale as paper, but they loosened the hold a little bit.

There was also something more in the eyes, a small sparkle, a terrified gleam that shimmered, like it was afraid to peek out. But Jack saw it. A pleading tone, a sad melody that swam through the air.

Hiccup was worried and no matter what they would say he wouldn't stop being troubled. He knew that his presence could not help. It could make everything way worse. But he had to do this, no matter the consequences.

Because Jack was also worried.

"Are everyone at the Berserk's house up then?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, they are. Most of them are searching for… for Dagur."

Not really a reassuring thing to hear.

Jack inhaled.

"Tell them we're coming."

Hiccup perked up.

"Jack, are you sure that this is a good idea?" Aster asked, whispered, maybe even covered his phone with his hand to not be heard by the others.

"I don't know. Don't tell them then. But we're coming." Jack said. "See you soon."

And not waiting to hear a peep of the word from the other side, he ended the call and sighed heavily.

This night had been changing from great to bad and then to even worse. It seemed like they were going down and checking how far into the darkness they could go before they would crash. But they couldn't simply sit and wait for it. Maybe it was futile, but they had to do something.

Jack closed his eyes for a few moments, gathering the remaining strength in his body. It was a difficult task, but somehow he collected enough to pry his eyelids open and turn to Hiccup, hoping to smile comfortingly to him.

"Are you ready?"

"No, but let's go."

History liked to repeat itself.

To be honest Hiccup was a mess inside. How he had managed to keep more or less calm façade in front of Jack had been a miracle. But he couldn't focus on himself right now. There would be time to mourn later on.

Now he had to worry about Jack.

And Dagur apparently. Who had disappeared.

Hiccup knew that it technically hadn't been his fault, but he couldn't stop but feel guilty about that. Because there was almost one hundred percent possibility that Dagur had ran away because of what had happened.

But then why had he done that? What had been the goal? Was he planning to do something? To others? To himself? He was unpredictable and not in the nice meaning of this word. He was harsh, sometimes irrational and that scared Hiccup.

That something could happen. And he didn't want that.

Both he and Jack shuffled through the dark city, accompanied by the street lamps blinking above them. The warm wind moved past them, ruffling their elegant clothes and disarrayed hairs.

Hiccup curled in on himself, wrapping his hands around his body, trying to protect himself from the swarm of thoughts that plagued his mind. But it did little to help.

He had to know what had happened. He had to help somehow. Even if by being there for a moment. He could search around. He could shout to get Dagur's attention. But something told him that seeing Hiccup was literally the last thing Dagur could want. And he couldn't blame him for that.

(He just wanted the teen to be safe. That's all. They didn't need to talk, they didn't need to see each other. Only the knowledge that everything was okay was necessary for him.)

"Do you want my jacket?" Jack asked, leaning a tad closer.

Hiccup glanced up at him, bit his bottom lip and then shook his head.

"No, I'm okay. It's not that cold."

The night was pretty warm.

They walked in the direction of Berserk's house, most of the time in silence. Hiccup didn't know where they lived, so he obediently followed Jack's every step, walking nearby to feel a little bit more comfortable.

Jack's presence managed to soothe him, even right now, when they both were distressed.

Soon enough Jack was pointing at a house where all windows were lit.

"Here we are." He whispered.

Hiccup squinted his eyes at the building, moving his hand up to correct his glasses.

It seemed like there was a silhouette in front of the house, moving back and forth. From so far away it looked like a shadow, but it couldn't be that.

Hiccup tried his luck.

"Is that Aster?"

"It seems so." Jack nodded.

The closer they were getting, the more details Hiccup could see, confirming his guess that indeed Aster was standing in front of the house, pacing from left to right, keeping his hands under his armpits, even when it wasn't so cold outside.

The elegant clothes were crumpled.

The sound of their footsteps had to be incredibly audible in the silence of the still night, because Bunny lifted his head and looked at them.

"So you came in the end." He said, approaching them.

Jack nodded.

"We told you we will be coming."

"And I didn't, or well don't think that is such a great idea, but you weren't long enough on the phone to hear that."

Aster could be right. Maybe they shouldn't be here. But Hiccup felt like he had to be here. Like there had to be something he could do. He couldn't simply sit warmly in his house, safe, sound and protected, when Dagur could be somewhere in the dark.

"I forced him to come with me." Hiccup suddenly said.

He knew it wasn't technically true. Hiccup hadn't said such things to Jack. He hadn't uttered a word about it and yet Jack had understood him, understood what he had had to do, what had needed to be done right now.

Bunny glanced at him, looked right into his eyes and nodded when he found something Hiccup wasn't sure how to name.

"Okay, but don't tell me later on that I didn't warn you."

"We won't. We decided to come here."

Another short bop.

Aster turned on his heel and marched towards the front door, not glancing back at them. He didn't need to as both Hiccup and Jack quickly followed him, getting closer to the light that gave them zero comfort.

Hiccup inhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart, as the stress took control over his hands. It wasn't an easy situation for him to be in. He was far away from his comfort zone. But he had to do it. Somehow.

When he was nearby the door he glanced to the side at the two cars parked there. There wasn't too much light, so he couldn't exactly distinguish the brands, but there was a pang of familiarity when he saw them.

Did Dagur use car? Hiccup wasn't sure. He didn't know if he ever had seen him driving, but then Jack had told him that he had worked as a mechanic. But even if he did, it seemed like he hadn't taken one right now. Which was a good thing.

It was better not to drive in such a state.

Aster opened the door without knocking and then shuffled inside.

There was this gloomy atmosphere in the air that hit him right after crossing the doorstep. One second was needed to know that something was wrong, that there was something in the air, that the whole house was filled with static so strong that it needed one spark to ignite and destroy everything.

Hiccup swallowed hard and glanced at Jack.

Jack didn't look happy to be here either, his eyebrows were furrowed and lips pinched in a tight line, but he was staring forward. Yet when Hiccup glanced at him, he answered with the same, sending a small, warm smile.

Aster shuffled in the direction of the living room which was casting a yellowish light on the tiles in the corridor. There wasn't much sound coming from there, no one was speaking. It seemed like the house was dipped in the silence.

Aster walked inside.

Hiccup glanced at Jack for a spare second, who did it back. They sent each other a message of warmness and strengths, when the stress was eating their insides, and then they stepped inside.

Hiccup had expected to see a lot of things. And some of them came true. He had expected heartbroken Heather, looking angry and terrified both in the same time. And she was there, leaning on the table and tapping her feet nervously on the ground, biting the knuckles. He had expected to see their mother, looking worried and scared, with puffy eyes, perhaps holding a tissue in one hand. And Hiccup also saw her, sitting on one chair, holding a cup of something that once had been warm, but now was probably stone cold. He saw another man too. But that was also explainable. It was probably their father. A bulky man, with a hazardous face and anger hidden in the eyes.

What Hiccup hadn't expected had been to see his own father.

And when they stepped inside, a bunch of voices resonated in the air in the same time.

Heather asked, standing straight:

"What are you doing here?!"

While Hiccup simply inquired, looking with wide eyes at the familiar posture of Stoick sitting on one chair:

"Dad?"

Who in the same time said:

"Hiccup?"

While Jack awkwardly mumbled, waving his hand:

"Uh good morning everyone."

And after that everyone stared at each other, trying to grasp what exactly had happened here in just one moment.

Heather's mother looked up, warily glancing between her daughter and them.

"Jack? What are you doing here?"

Hiccup was taken aback a little bit, but now that he thought about it, it was only logical. Heather and Jack had been quite close friends before so it was natural he knew Heather's mother.

"I could ask you, Hiccup, the same thing." Stoick said, glancing at him and furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah, actually same here, dad." Hiccup added, feeling that all this blockades were crumbling in his mind.

But he was so tired and exhausted that he wasn't thinking straight. To be fair the only thing he dreamed about was his bed, a quilt over his body and Toothless laying nearby his chest, but that had to wait.

For how long he wasn't sure. It seemed like the night still wouldn't end for quite some time.

(He wasn't sure if he could even fall asleep now, with the stress roaming freely in his stomach and making him squirm.)

Heather turned her head to Aster:

"You brought them here?" She hissed.

Aster stepped back.

"I didn't invite them here. They did it themselves."

"It's not Aster –" Jack stared, but was immediately interrupted.

"I wasn't speaking to you." Heather spat, glaring at him.

Jack made a small step back, staring at the girl with wide eyes.

"Heather!" Her mother gasped. "Why are you speaking like that?"

"Because it's his, their fault!" She shrieked, waving an accusing finger in front of their eyes. "It's their fault that Dagur is missing!"

Hiccup felt it inside his heart like a ton of ore being dropped on it. A sudden wave filled with so much power and energy, static so strong that it paralyzed the muscles, allowing him to only kneel in guilt and show his neck.

Because finally someone said it out loud. Hiccup was too afraid to do it. It made the problem more real. But in the end it was the truth. It was their fault, the things they had done had been the catalyst to what was happening right now.

"Heather, I'm sure it's not…"

"No, it's true."

The time stilled to a halt as Hiccup's words echoed in the unnaturally empty house. Empty yet filled to the brim. The clock ticked above their heads, slowing down as the astonishment filled the eyes and mouths.

Hiccup's own words rang in his ears, but he wouldn't take them back. He couldn't take them back. He didn't want to.

He had to do it.

Everyone started looking at each other, trying to find the meaning hidden to some people and revealed to others.

Finally Stoick looked at Hiccup and he felt all his insides crumbling.

(He still didn't know why his father was here, but he was starting to connect some dots, string the clues and photos on the corkboard.)

"Hiccup, what do you mean by that?"

He meant a lot of things by that. A thousand of sentences, promises, stories that needed to be told. The truth that was raining on their heads dispersed the fog that had been wrapped around them, allowing to see the true and real faces.

"It's… it's a long story, but I'll… tell you the truth, I promise." Hiccup exhaled, feeling his chest slowly deteriorating into dust. His mind was beeping, blaring red alarms all over. The nausea swam inside his stomach, overpowering all cords. It was a violent reaction with sulfuric and nitric acid, where a foam was appearing and growing and growing, threating to spill everywhere. Hiccup was terribly exhausted, but he couldn't rest. "But now finding Dagur is our most important goal."

They had to find him. He had to see Dagur safe and sound with his own eyes.

(He wouldn't forgive himself if anything happened to him.)

"And what? You want to help? Now you want to help?" Heather spat, glaring at them with furrowed eyebrows and wild eyes.

"Heather!" Her mother scolded the girl, raising her body from the seat. "Stop it. I don't know what happened… but they only want to help. We could use every little bit of it."

Heather opened her mouth, but then clasped it shut and huffed loudly. She moved forward, circling around them and directing her steps to the door.

"I'm going to walk around and search for him one more time."

Her mother was already opening her mouth, but Aster beat her to it.

"I'll go with her."

"Oh, thank you, dear."

Aster nodded at the woman and then moved closer to them. He sent Hiccup a warm smile and patted Jack on the shoulder, leaning closer and whispering something into his ear, something that Hiccup couldn't catch.

But Jack lifted his hand and patted Aster's palm, sending a small smile too, so it had to be something good. Hopefully.

And with that both of them were left alone with Berserk family and his father.

Heather's mom sat down, sighing heavily.

"I'm really sorry for her. She is scared, like all of us." She whispered, moving her hand across the table to grab a crumpled tissue and pat the corners of her eyes later on with it. They were red, rimmed with crimson smudges, covered with scarlet dots.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Miss Berserk. Heather was right." Jack said, bowing his head. "She had all the rights to be angry."

The woman exhaled heavily, playing with the tissue.

"Even if it is right, you came here to help. She shouldn't act like that."

Hiccup believed that the girl had all the rights to be angry at them, to yell at them, to scream and shout. But they didn't have the time right now to explain everything. There were more important matters to take care of right now.

"That is not important right now." He said, stepping closer. "Can I ask if he contacted any of you?"

He felt Jack also stepping forward with him, almost gluing himself to his shoulder. Whether he did it for himself or for Hiccup, he wasn't sure. But he was thankful nevertheless.

"We tried to call him, but he isn't picking up." The other man spoke, looking at them curiously.

There was some familiarity in his posture, on his face, in his eyes, in the way his body moved, in the way his eyebrows changed and in the way his mouth pronounced words. All his behaviors were hard, maybe hardened due to the time. They were harsh, almost dry, and there was something unfitting in them. Like they were missing something. Like there was a part of the machinery that should be there, making everything run smoothly, but wasn't.

Hiccup didn't like the way the man stared at him, at them.

The gaze was filled with something dark, something hollow and dense, something that struck him to the core and froze his bones.

Was this Dagur's father? Step-father? Uncle? Family friend? He didn't know. And he wasn't really keen on getting to know it.

"But it's good? It means that the phone is still turned on." Jack added, glancing at him like he was looking for approvement. "And he isn't out of reach."

Stoick nodded, glancing at him. It seemed that there were a ton of things he wanted to ask about, a million inquires jumped in his head and a bazillion ideas and possibilities clambered the place.

"But he could have left his phone somewhere." He said, nodding.

"That is also a possibility."

"When he was younger he used to leave the phone at home, so I wouldn't bother him." Miss Berserk said. "Please sit down. Do you want something to drink?"

Hiccup quickly shook his head, feeling that in his current state he wouldn't be able to even swallow a cup of water, not counting coffee or tea. His stomach was in shambles, resembling a destroyed glass surface after pouring fluoric acid on it.

"I'm fine too, Miss Berserk."

"Nothing?" The woman croaked, looking at them with sunken eyes.

The voice broke something in Jack apparently, because he corrected himself quickly after that.

"Well then, a cup of tea would be nice, if that is okay with you, ma'am."

The woman nodded.

"I'm good, thank you." Hiccup mumbled.

"I wouldn't mind another cup of coffee, dear." Stoick said, looking at her and forcing a smile on his mouth.

"Of course." The woman nodded.

Hiccup glanced at Jack, who pointed with his head at the table and a few scattered chairs around, some standing closer to the furniture and some further away. Each and every one clearly had been used by someone today.

Jack pointed to a seat nearby Hiccup's father, which he did take. Jack himself moved to grab a chair standing under a window and brought it closer to the table to sit next to Hiccup.

The kettle started to move and whistle as the water inside bubbled, letting out hisses of steam above it.

Miss Berserk moved around the kitchen, taking out cups and putting coffee and tea inside, not uttering a word, but sniffing from time to time.

It broke Hiccup's heart inside.

There was this cloud looming above them. A thick, dense mist that covered their bodies and blocked their senses, making them believe they were all alone in the whole wide world. It seemed like this atmosphere cracked the connections between people, pushed them apart, far away from each other, with the harsh and cold wind covering their bodies. It seemed like the storm had finally caught up with them, raining and pouring down on their moods and hearts, with the lightning hitting their chests over and over again, making them tremble in fear.

"Here you go, honey." The woman said, putting a tea in front of Jack. "I added some lemon to it, hope you don't mind."

Jack smiled at her.

"Of course not."

Then there was a soft click in front of Hiccup, when another cup was put in front of him.

"I know you said you didn't want to, but you looked like you need one."

Hiccup looked up into her tired eyes, eyes that longed for some positivity and happiness. But it felt like it had been ripped away from her long time ago and only recently had been slowly regaining its health.

"Thank you, ma'am." Hiccup softly said, feeling like if he raised his voice he would break something incredibly fragile.

The woman smiled tiredly at him and then passed the coffees to Stoick and to the man sitting in front of them.

The woman sat down too, moving her one hand to her forehead and massaging it.

"We need to call the police." She finally said.

"You already proposed it and my answer is still the same. That is futile. They can't do anything right now. He has a record of running away, we need to wait." The bulky man said, turning to her and furrowing his eyebrows.

The woman glared at him.

"It's still better than doing nothing."

"Yes, going to the police station and wasting time is so much better than actually searching for him right now by ourselves."

"Well I can clearly see you're not doing it."

"I don't see you doing it either. You just sit here and cry."

The woman glared at the man.

Stoick next to Hiccup moved and directed his gaze at the man.

"Alvin, stop it."

Oh, Hiccup finally got to know the name.

The man snapped his head in Hiccup's dad direction.

"Arguing isn't bringing us anywhere." Stoick calmly said, staring straight at the man.

He sounded calm, peaceful even, but there was a tension to his hands, to his muscles which seized the cup, twitching as the stress pulled on the tissues.

(Hiccup knew the sight well, he had seen it a countless of times after the accident. Hiccup usually had found him sitting alone in the kitchen, with a cup of cold coffee, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing at all, even when the wide universe, world so deep had been spreading in front of them.

Hiccup couldn't blame him.)

The man openly glared at Hiccup's dad and there was something in it that Hiccup didn't like. Scratch that. Hiccup didn't like the man in the end. There was some shadow in him, a hidden letter in a formula, an asterisk at the end of the word with a tiny explanation at the bottom of the page, a small, thin crack at the bottom of the flask or beaker that could destroy the reaction if set down wrong.

Hiccup didn't like the man, especially when he stared at his dad like that.

He wasn't a fighting type. He preferred to step down and let other people have their ways, not arguing even the slightest, so he wouldn't accidentally get caught in the crossfire.

But when the man stared at his dad like that, he couldn't help but feel angry and overprotective, hoping that he could step forward and somehow shield his dad from the attack. No matter how small he was.

There was a creaking sound in the corridor and something that resembled a shushed conversation. Or maybe it was only wind tickling the trees outside.

"My proposition is to go out and search for him one more time. Check the most frequent places he attended. One person stays here with a phone in case he would call or come back. The rest disperse and try to find him." Stoick said.

It was a plan. Not amazing one, but a plan nevertheless.

Miss Berserk nodded at that.

"I think this is a good idea." She said, coughed even as something clenched her throat.

"Helen, I think you should stay at home, if you don't mind." Stoick continued, looking at her warmly. "I think me and Alvin could use a car and ride around to the farther parts of the city."

The man didn't say anything, but just gave a short, curt nod, although his eyes were still fizzling with some emotions Hiccup didn't exactly want to name. They didn't seem positive nor warm.

Hiccup swallowed.

"Hiccup and I can search nearby his work, closer to the city and around our school." Jack proposed.

Hiccup could hear the strain at the end of his voice, a sudden drop that appeared on the last word.

It brought back painful memories, but Hiccup quickly brushed them away. He couldn't worry about that now. There was a storm they had started, a tornado and they needed to save people who had been pulled into it. Somehow.

"Aster and I can go check if he isn't at any of his friends' houses." Heather suddenly said, stepping into the kitchen.

The scowl didn't leave her face and it seemed like the dark and red circles around her eyes hadn't got any smaller, only grown in size, but she seemed sure of her words, certain, ready to fight if someone gave the call.

Stoick nodded, took a big sip and stood up.

"Okay, if you find him or get any information of his whereabouts, inform the rest." Stoick said, looking at each and every person in the room.

They all nodded and got up. What else was there to do?

Even after an hour of walking around, there was no sight of Dagur anywhere. He wasn't picking up his phone, although the signal was there. But at this point they weren't sure whether it was a good or a bad sign.

Neither of Dagur's friends had seen him today, so that was a dead end too. He wasn't back at school, he wasn't walking among the streets, he wasn't in his work and he wasn't even at the farthest part of the city.

It seemed like the teen simply had disappeared, had poofed, had turned into a smoke that had been blown away.

No sight of him was left. Almost like he only stayed in their memories.

Jack didn't want to think about it just yet. They were going to find him and it all would turn out okay. It was going to be fine.

(Somewhere in the future they would laugh about it. He was sure of it. But that day wasn't today. And it wouldn't happen until they would find Dagur.)

Hiccup was worrying the bottom lip between his teeth with the eyes looking at the floor beneath his feet. His hands were crossed and he played with the wrinkles of his elegant shirt, making another ocean of them appear. At this point he would made a hole in no time.

Heather and her mother were sitting at the table, next to each other. The woman looked close to crying and Heather had her face hidden in her crossed arms.

Stoick and the other man – Alvin – stood nearby the kitchen, looking straight forward, but not seeing anything at all.

Bunny was standing next to Jack, both of them leaning on the windowsill.

The silence in the house was deafening, was dense and thick and ran across their spines, leaving a wet and cold trail that made the hairs on their hands stand up. It was a shambled battlefield, with the smoking remains of memories scattered everywhere.

There were bad thoughts, sneaking between their legs, climbing their bodies and curling next to their ears, whispering all the worst possibilities that could be playing out in this very moment, somewhere far away, somewhere where they couldn't reach.

The evening that had started heavenly, was ending with a hellish outcome.

Jack wanted it all to end, he wanted to go to sleep and wake up in the world where none of this ever had happened. He wanted to step back in time and do things in a different way, say other things, move in other directions. He wanted for it all to be a feverish, terrible dream.

But it was reality. And reality was often worse than dreams.

"Maybe there is a place –" Heather's mother started, slowly raising her eyes up

"There isn't. We checked everything." The bulky man angrily said, glaring at the woman.

Helen looked at him.

"We clearly couldn't have checked every place. Maybe there is some place, some house we are missing."

Alvin sighed loudly, raising his shoulders.

"Listen, Helen, I know you are worried. But he is a big boy, he can take care of himself. He's probably hiding somewhere like a coward, because he couldn't face the reality."

Hiccup tightened his fists, snapping his head up.

The woman turned her head, staring daggers at the man.

Stoick stepped forward.

"Alvin, stop it." He said in a calm voice, but there was sternness inside of it, intertwined together, resembling a white foam on the waves that could push the emotions away. "Such comments are inappropriate."

It was a mild thing to say.

Alvin looked at Hiccup's father, staring at him long and hard, trying to find something in his posture, something in his eyes, in his façade that he could latch onto and attack.

(Because this was what the man resembled, an animal ready to pounce, waiting for a small movement of the wings to leap and bite.)

"No offence, Stoick, but this isn't any of your business." The man said. "Maybe you should have kept an eye on your son, if Dagur disappearing is his fault."

Hiccup inhaled deeply, curling in on himself in a picosecond, bending his arms, glancing at the ground and biting hard into his bottom lip.

Jack stepped closer, hoping that by being near he could somehow help, although he knew it was a futile thinking.

Stoick rose higher. Even though he was already standing, now, in this very moment, when his shoulders rose, his head darted up and his nose flared, he looked like a monument. He looked like a forest guardian who was facing his greatest enemy. He looked like a storm, a thunder and a tsunami. He looked like a mountain that cannot be moved, a barrier that prevented villages from being brushed away by the danger.

"Don't bring him into this." Stoick hissed, voice deep and heavy, similar to a growling bear that was marking his territory and protecting it.

Jack felt shivers running down his spine.

The man apparently didn't even feel an ounce of fear, because the corners of his mouth twitched as he glanced at Stoick.

"I think your son did it himself. Because if it wasn't for him, then maybe Dagur would still be here."

That was a harsh hit, a sudden gust that tore the air out of Jack's chest and it wasn't even directed at him.

Which wasn't fair. It was his fault. He started all of it. He had been the first person to open his mouth back those months ago and he had been the one who had blurted the truth to the whole world. Hiccup wasn't at fault here and yet it seemed like he was taking hit after hit, which were supposed to be directed at him.

It wasn't fair.

"Alvin, that's enough!" The woman said, raising up from the chair and now openly glaring at the man. "It's not this poor boy's fault. It's your fault that Dagur turned out like that. I should have never left him with you."

"So it's my fault now?"

"It always has been your fault!" Helen stepped forward, pushing a finger into the man's chest. "It's your fault that Dagur doesn't feel safe anywhere and runs away to god knows where! He could be dead, because you weren't good enough before to show him how home should feel like!"

There was a movement near the corridor, a silhouette stepping slowly towards the door, barely visible by anyone. But how could other see it when everyone was focused on the fight in the middle of the room? On the hate that sprawled in the air? On the blame and guilt that circled around the bodies?

Everyone held their breaths inside, feeling every word like a bullet, even when it wasn't directed at them.

Jack didn't want to hear it. He had enough. They had to stop arguing. This wasn't bringing them anywhere.

(But unfortunately in moments like these, the darkest thoughts are pushed to the front and there is only anger left, mixing with the sadness, when every door and lock simply burst open.)

"Will you stop, you two!" Heather shouted, also standing up and making the chair behind her clatter to the floor. "You both fucked up! Dagur is missing and the only thing you two could do is blame each other! I'm done with you!" There was a broken tone to her voice, but she held strongly.

Alvin stepped forward.

"Listen, Heather, I demand a little bit of respect from –"

The girl laughed crookedly as she stepped back.

"Respect? You? From me?" She snorted. "Look at you. There isn't even one piece of you I should respect. You come back and expect impossible, even without doing the bare minimum. You don't deserve our respect." She said. "Our life would be easier if you weren't in it."

"Heather!" The woman said, raising her voice a little, although there was a sad smudge on her creased forehead. Almost like she was agreeing with it.

The girl glanced at Helen, letting her shoulders drop, but not relaxing her clenched fists.

"Until you change something in you, I don't want you in my life." Heather said with now weirdly quiet voice, definitely different than the broad and strong one she had used before.

The atmosphere was so dense that Jack felt like he couldn't breathe. The air crackled with electricity so strong that he was afraid everything could combust in a moment.

The man opened his mouth, glared at Heather and raised his shoulders, but dropped them when Helen stepped forward and looked at him.

Not much was said after that. Or maybe the whole conversation was said in small movements of the mouth, of the eyes, of the fingers, of the hands, of the shoulders and heads that accompanied the silence. Long arguments and conversations and apologies that were unspoken, but were shared by the hearts.

"Okay." Alvin finally said. "I understand."

Something dropped in the air around them. It wasn't a sudden breeze that sneaked inside. The air was still filled with anticipation, with terrible fear the munched on the muscles, with dark hands that grabbed the ankles and wrists. But it was a little bit more breathable.

Then Stoick turned his head, stared at Jack, then around the room and, in the end, simply asked:

"Where is Hiccup?"

Jack blinked and looked around, focusing his gaze on the place where Hiccup had anxiously stood just a few minutes ago, only to find the spot empty and hollow.

"I…" He turned to Stoick. "… I don't know."

He turned his head, like by staring at this place one more time he could see Hiccup back, like he only disappeared for a moment and he would be back in a second.

But the place was still empty.

Hiccup had to go out. He couldn't breathe in there. It was too hot. There were too many emotions, too many loud voices that rang in his head and made him want to throw up.

He needed fresh air.

So in the middle of the argument he sneaked out, closing the door after himself.

The crispy air in the middle of the night helped sooth his burning cheeks, but it didn't stop the fire of guilt in his stomach. It seemed that it was even more fueled, like the oxygen was pumped into it, making the fire bigger and broader.

Hiccup couldn't deal with it much longer. He could sense prickliness near the corners of his eyes, but he tried really hard not to cry. Crying wouldn't help. Not right now at least.

He exhaled, letting the air out of his mouth in a long puff, still hearing the shouts coming from inside the house.

He had to get away, for a moment, as far away as he could.

He checked his pockets and found his phone. It was still on, had around forty two percent of power and the signal was good. They could call him if they wanted. Everything would be good.

Hiccup started to move through the empty streets, listening to the silence starting to spread around him. It seemed like the whole world was dipped in it, was consumed by the thickness that prevented the sounds from moving clearly through it.

A peculiar experience. Almost like Hiccup was still drunk. And even though he knew there was still alcohol in his bloodstream, he was fairly sure it wasn't influencing him anymore.

Stress could do that to people.

All windows in the houses were dark or illuminated by the faint glow of a TV forgotten to be turned off or a computer showing a movie.

It seemed like there was no life outside. The crickets weren't chirping, the birds weren't singing, nothing was moving.

An unnerving situation, and yet Hiccup almost didn't notice it, but moved forward, away from the shouts and arguments and blame that sliced his chest like a broken glass shard.

He needed a place to think, where the silence would be so overpowering and he would be so alone, that he would be able to focus on what was important right now.

The street was ending in a dead end and a wall of forest that was spreading on the north part of Burgess.

It wasn't an overly big forest. There were a ton of sandy tracks, allowing people to pass through it and towards a road that was on the other side.

As kids, Hiccup, Astrid and the rest of the team had played a lot in this forest, climbing trees, paddling on the small lakes in the middle of it, running around and making fortresses. There were almost no wild animals inside, no deers, no boars, no danger, only birds making nests and insects flying around. Families known this place like the back of their hands.

The same forest was also at the back of Hiccup's house.

In the same wood, on the other side, on the road he had had the accident.

And this was also the same forest in which he had found Toothless.

It wasn't that Hiccup hated this place now. He didn't. Now he simply didn't have any reason to enter it. Their old fortresses had been broken since their childhoods. The once big lakes had turned to small ponds in their eyes. It was time to make place for other young kids to run around, laughing loudly during summer vacations.

Nevertheless Hiccup stepped into it and turned right, walking outside the fences of other houses and towards his own home. Then he could simply open the back gate and be inside.

(He didn't want to return home just yet. He couldn't. But he probably should give Toothless some food and he could use a different set of clothing, one that wouldn't be too elegant shirt covered in dirt and tears.)

So he walked for a few minutes. Minutes filled with his feet shuffling, listening to the silence and waste emptiness.

He was half-way there, when he heard a sound. Something resembling a crack and a mumble, maybe even a curse word. But the sound was muted like it was coming from behind the trees.

Were some teenagers in the forest? Drunk? Possibly? Maybe some students from the Community College were having a party there? That was plausible, although it was definitely too quiet for it to be totally true.

Hiccup walked forward, trying to brush away the memories, forget about them like it all never had happened. The hair on his hands stood up as his eyes looked at the darkness in the forest, seeping towards the colorful city.

Even though he had never been afraid of it, now it set him on edge, making him super aware of everything that was happening.

The lamps buzzed nearby.

Hiccup stepper forward, finding comfort in the soft crunches of branches beneath his feet, in the soft movements of leaves when the wind pushed past them and in the familiar sound of a driving car, coming from the other side of the wood.

He was basically nearby his back gate, when he heard the voice one more time, this time a little bit louder and weirdly more coherent.

And it strung a chord inside his chest. Some kind of gears jogged, moved, whined and rolled, squeaking painfully as Hiccup's tired brain asked them to move.

It couldn't be.

Hiccup stared at the sparkling town, at the sleeping houses that even now seemed more alive than ever before and then he glanced back at the forest. The night wasn't that dark, so there were some faint hues between the trees, but in comparison to the rest of the world it could be a black hole, a space filled with emptiness.

Hiccup took out his phone.

He was just going to check it, not moving too far away and not making any unnecessary turns. It was going to be fine. He knew this forest like the back of his hand.

(Although the fact that this was how some horror stories started and ended didn't want to leave his mind.)

"Here comes nothing." Hiccup whispered to himself, feeling his tongue tracing the top of the mouth, and then stepped into the forest.

After several meters, he turned on the flashlight in his phone to shine some light on the ground filled with small bushes, grass, broken sticks and rocks so he wouldn't accidentally trip. A broken hand or leg right now would be like getting to know that that calculator had been in radians mode during the test you just finished and gave to the teacher. So no, Hiccup didn't want that.

As he walked forward, listening to his own breath and wind, he could also pinpoint other sounds too – quiet murmurs, movements, some clinks, weird noises that Hiccup couldn't exactly describe.

He stepped over broken branches, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart. In just a few moments he would reach the small lake that once had been the biggest sea, but now the water level could barely reach his chin.

This was his final step, he wasn't planning on crossing that. If he didn't find anything there, then he would move back.

Although the closer he was, the louder the sounds were getting, to this point Hiccup turned off the flashlight in his phone and let the moon guide him on this journey.

One step, another, then third, walking over a bigger rock, circling a tree and then he was almost in the open.

He kept to the shadows, trying to peek curiously at the clearing nearby the small lake in the middle of the forest, looking left and right. For a moment he was sure that there was no one here, that he just imagined all those sounds, when in the corner of his eyes he saw a movement followed by a soft clink of glass hitting something else.

Hiccup glanced there and saw a shadow sitting on a rock and not exactly doing anything.

This definitely didn't look good. People sitting in the forests in the middle of the night were usually the signs of bad luck and Hiccup had enough of it in his life. He didn't want to add murder to today list of things that had gone wrong.

Hiccup had to get away from here.

So slowly, delicately he stepped back, trying to move away and not gain the attention of the person sitting alone in the middle of the night nearby the lake.

But somehow, in this very moment, Hiccup could understand all those horror movies, games and stories.

Because, just like in many of them, he stepped on a branch. Or maybe it was a pile of leaves. It was hard to see what it was in the dim light of the moon hanging above their heads.

The sound echoed like an explosion in the empty forest. It sounded like an azidoazide azide* going off due to a delicate soft touch of a fire. It seemed like a thunder, a crackling lightning and a rumble during a cold and sleepless night.

Hiccup cursed internally, feeling as his heart stopped beating and the breath halted in his throat.

It was impossible not to hear it.

The shadow heard it. Of course, it did. It twitched, ceased its all movements for a moment and then slowly turned around.

Hiccup froze.

"Oh." The person said, then turned around one more time, not paying Hiccup much more mind, and moved the bottle that was resting in their hand to the mouth.

Hiccup inhaled sharply, feeling as all programs inside his head turned on once again. It took him a few seconds before he was able to swallow the saliva in his mouth and step outside, getting closer to the lake and to the lone person, shadow, silhouette sitting on a rock.

His steps were ten times louder in his ears.

The person glanced at him and sniffed.

"What are you doing here?"

Hiccup clenched his fists, feeling the sweat accumulating on his fingertips.

"Everyone is searching for you, Dagur."

The teen shrugged, curling his shoulders in the end. The bottle moved from his lips and hung between his legs as he stared forward at the calm surface of the lake.

"So?"

"Everyone is worried about you. You could have at least told someone that you're alive."

Dagur sighed loudly, swaying the bottle a bit.

"Add it to the list of things I already fucked up. If you can find a free place that is."

Hiccup was frustrated.

Part of him was astonishingly relieved and happy to find the boy alive. Dagur was here, he was breathing and talking. It was like someone took off the weight from his chest. Only to add another one, much heavier than before, making his heart hurt all over again.

For a moment there was silence between them. A heavy one. A dense one. Thick like some kind of oil, maybe even an ionic liquid after a distillation or evaporation process*.

Dagur, unsurprisingly, was the first one to speak.

"So, you can see that I'm…" He hiccupped. "I'm clearly fine. So you can go on your merry way."

Hiccup didn't want that. No, he couldn't do that.

"I'm not going anywhere without you." He stubbornly said, although a little bit quietly.

Dagur glanced at him. It took him a few tries to focus his gaze on Hiccup probably barely visible silhouette, even though at this point he was fully out of the bushes.

"Well then find a comfy place to sit, because I'm not going anywhere." The teen said, swaying a little as he stared forward.

He knew that wasn't true. Dagur had to return home at some point and Hiccup wasn't going to lose him now, especially when he had found him.

But then there were others who were also searching for Dagur.

He quickly took out the phone and winced when he saw several messages on the screen. He had forgotten to take it off mute. His dad, Jack and Aster had to be worried sick right now. He had walked out without telling anyone.

But he simply had had to breathe, to take a moment for himself.

So without scanning the previous messages too much, he wrote a quick one to Jack and his dad and then closed his phone.

"Can you move?"

"Hm?"

"You said that you're not planning on going home, so I'm going to wait until you do. And I'm asking if you could move a little."

"There is another rock right here, plop your ass down there."

Dagur was pointing at some space, but no matter how hard Hiccup squinted his eyes he couldn't see anything remotely big that could be used as a makeshift chair.

"There is nothing there." Hiccup finally said, after he had enough of staring at one place for too long.

"There is, you're not looking hard enough."

"There isn't!"

"There is!"

Hiccup moved to the spot Dagur was pointing at and waved his hands there, proving his point.

"As you can see, clearly there is nothing here!"

Dagur groaned and then moved the bottle back to his lips, taking a long swing.

Now that Hiccup was a little bit closer he could see that there was a translucent liquid inside the bottle, but also dripping down Dagur's chin and disappearing in the folds of the white shirt.

Was that vodka? It couldn't be, could it?

But then the smell around here, the behavior, the lost gaze would clearly indicate that some alcohol had been consumed at least in the close past.

Dagur stared at Hiccup for a good minute. A minute filled with eyes looking, but not exactly seeing anything. After that he shrugged and curled in on himself, clasping the bottle in both of his hands. And then, slowly, he scooted away, making a small place for Hiccup to sit down.

That was some kind of an accomplishment.

Hiccup moved and then flopped down, sitting at the extreme edge, so neither part of his body would touch Dagur's one. Maybe it was better this way for him. Maybe for Dagur. Maybe for both of them.

Hiccup stared at the calm lake.

From time to time a soft breeze touched, caressed the surface, forming folds, thin wrinkles, white foam that moved from one side to the other. But other than that it was still, unmoving, almost like it also was sleeping, waiting for a morning to wake up.

Dagur lifted the bottle once again and took another sip.

He knew he should say something, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't muster his brain to work correctly right now. It wasn't coming up with any idea for a conversation. He was normally bad at it, but right now it seemed like there was an empty voice inside his skull, a bag of ideas with a big hole at the bottom, leaving it hollow in the end.

There was so much to say and yet nothing seemed like a good start for a conversation.

So in the end he simply dropped the bomb.

"I'm sorry…" He said.

He knew it didn't mean much. Hell. He wasn't sure for what he had been apologizing. The things he had done hadn't been good. He had known it the moment their whole plan had started. He had been conscious of the consequences.

So maybe he hadn't been apologizing for that. Because Dagur had hurt him, he was the reason of all his fears and nightmares and if Hiccup had to be honest, he didn't regret starting the plan.

His life had turned out for the better in the end. He had achieved what he had wanted.

Dagur glanced at him, let his stare rest on Hiccup's silhouette for just a mili-second, before he turned his head back towards the lake, towards the moon reflected in the surface, towards the dark forest around them, towards the greatest unknown spreading in front of their very own eyes.

"For what?" Dagur in the end murmured.

"I'm not sure." Hiccup admitted. "It's just sounded like something I should be saying right now."

"So you don't mean it."

"No, I do." Hiccup huffed, raising his shoulders for a moment, only to let them drop down quickly. "I do mean it."

"That makes zero sense then."

Hiccup felt the chuckle escaping his lips.

"I bet it doesn't. But I mean it. I just can't put into words the things I should apologize for."

Everything clattered in his mind. There was a total mess inside of it. Things that were usually neatly organized were now in utter disarray, laying everywhere, being misplaced, floating around on their own orbits.

Hiccup wasn't sure where he should start to tidy it up.

Dagur huffed tiredly, sloshing the liquid around in the bottle which was almost half empty.

"You shouldn't be the one apologizing." He finally whispered. "It should be me who should do that."

Hiccup didn't want to point out that Dagur already had apologized to him today. Maybe he couldn't remember that. It seemed that he was heavily intoxicated.

Hiccup was probably at fault for it too.

A lone cloud moved on the sky, covering the moon for a brief moment, casting a long, dark shadow upon them, wrapping them in a warm embrace of the summer night.

"When did it start?"

"Pardon?"

"The whole plan…" Dagur started, making his chest heave. "When did it all start?"

Of all the people Hiccup had though he would describe their plan to, Dagur had been definitely at the bottom of the list. He hadn't even planned for him to be on the list to be honest.

But there was no point in hiding it anymore. The truth was out. Hiccup could at least simply tell Dagur what had been really happening.

"Uh…" Hiccup hummed, clasping his hands together and playing with the fingers. They were dry. Huh, how did he not notice it? He usually hated to have his hands dry. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one which made his skin crawl in not the good way. "Well do you remember the day Jack walked into the bathroom when you and I were inside?"

Dagur curled in on himself, like Hiccup just brought up a painful memory.

(Maybe for the current Dagur Hiccup kinda brought up bad memories. Dagur had changed. It was pretty visible in his behavior, in his movements, in his eyes and face and mind and heart.)

"Yeah, yeah I do." Dagur said.

"Well you know how Jack can't really think logically under stressful situations?" Hiccup wasn't sure whether Dagur knew it, so he immediately continued. "So he blurted the first thing that popped into his mind back then. Which was calling me his boyfriend." Hiccup sighed. "Later on, after the encounter, we actually started to talk about it, weighed pros and cons and well… decided to prolong this plan for a little bit longer."

A little bit more had turned into a few weeks, then into a few months, then into an almost whole year.

To be fair they should have ended it some time ago, back when the situation had been stable. Maybe if they had done that, they wouldn't be in this mess right now.

But no, neither of them had decided to do that.

(Now Hiccup had a vague understanding of the reasons. He definitely knew why he hadn't done that, but now, after the events of tonight he might have a feeling why Jack hadn't done it either. However he still couldn't think about it. He would do it later on, when he would have time to do it, not right now.)

"Oh…" Dagur mumbled, staring forward, but it seemed like he wasn't seeing anything.

Oh indeed.

He took another swing and then let the bottle drop, swinging between his legs.

"I was a terrible person back then, weren't I?"

Hiccup couldn't not agree with the statement. He couldn't even sweeten the words, make them more bearable to slide down the throat. No, right now he couldn't. Maybe he never could. Maybe he simply didn't want to do it. Because he had to give a real meaning to the pain and anguish and embarrassment he had lived through.

"Yeah, you were." Then he chuckled darkly, feeling the venom slowly precipitating on his tongue. "The amount of times you made me terrified to go to school is enormous. You humiliated me. You made me feel unsafe. You made me feel dirty."

There were a thousand other things Hiccup wanted to say, but he felt he wouldn't have enough time if he started right now. Right now, when the pain could be really shown, he felt torn apart, he felt like there were scorch marks all over his body, almost palpable if he moved, glided his hand across his skin and soul.

"How I hated you back then." He finally said, feeling as some weight was pushed off his chest.

Dagur flinched at that, letting the bottle clink against the rock on which they were sitting.

"So no, I don't apologize for what I did." Hiccup said, feeling terrible for saying it out loud and yet amazing as the pressure left his chest. "But I can see you've grown up and I'm sorry I'm one of the reasons of your worse days."

"No, it's…" Dagur lifted his one hand and moved the fingers through his hair, making a few red strands escape the ponytail he had. "It's… okay… You don't have to explain it to me or forgive me or even apologize to me. What I've done was… shitty and terrible… also pretty fucked up If I can say."

Hiccup snorted.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I don't want to excuse it due to my shitty past and all that… I don't want to be that kind of person."

"Well past can shape us. But it doesn't mean we can't change that."

Hiccup quite painfully had learned that through his whole life. It seemed like he was learning it even now.

"Don't let the past describe who you are now or something like that?" Dagur mused, glancing at him. "Sounds pretty poetic. Also fucking easier said than done."

"But it's true."

The teen moved the bottle and took another sip.

Hiccup wondered how he was doing that without even coughing a bit. He could take a sip of a stronger drink and start immediately profusingly clearing his throat and feeling like everything was burning inside his body.

Dagur seemed like he was simply drinking water. Maybe he was already in a state where he couldn't exactly taste what he was drinking. Or maybe he didn't mind the painful sensation sliding down his throat.

"My dad was like that, you know?" Dagur suddenly said, inhaling deeply. "Taking everything by force. I lived with him through my childhood, so I… saw a lot of things." There was a small break, a dense, polymerized silence. "I saw some really bad stuff happening."

Hiccup didn't answer. He didn't feel like the words could be connected right now.

"Point is… I saw some pretty fucked up stuff and thought that you know… this was how life worked. You take whatever you want."

Pretty messed up thinking, but Hiccup could see what Dagur had been trying to say. It had been Dagur from some time ago – a harsh and terrifying soul wandering the streets, putting fear into other people's hearts.

"So what changed?"

Dagur shrugged.

"I don't know. It wasn't one thing… My dad went to prison and my mom got full custody of me, so I started living with her. And well, let me tell you that I was a shitty kid."

"Somehow I don't have troubles imagining it."

This brought a small, hesitant smile to Dagur's lips. It was barely there for a millisecond, before it dispersed and disappeared.

"Yeah, I know. But I really hurt her. I mean I even knew it back then that I was hurting her. I knew it, but somehow I pushed it out of my mind… And well, one day, when I came home…" Another inhale which made the chest rise, only to let it crumble down a second later. "…I saw her crying and you know… I don't know what I thought back then, but it weirdly… broke me? I know she loved me, but somehow I never really… I mean, she wasn't the perfect mother, she made a ton of mistakes, but you know, she was trying. And somehow I didn't want her to fail in it." Dagur took a sip. "But it wasn't only that. I was also super angry at myself. At the person I became."

Another short spasm of silent universe emerged between them. For a moment it seemed like there were only the two of them, a small pond, a half-empty bottle of alcohol and a lot of guilt hidden and locked inside the chests.

"I often thought that maybe if my past developed in a different way, I wouldn't be like that… I blamed her for a lot of things that happened to me. I blamed her for not fighting harder for me when she was divorcing my dad. I blamed her for not picking me up when I was with him… I blamed her for almost everything bad that happened to me. There were times when I thought that who I was, was because of her." He scratched a place on his wrist. "But in that moment, when I saw her crying, I don't know… I felt like I finally understood that she really loved me. That she wasn't at fault for the things that happened to me. Only later on I finally understood that she had tried to take me after the divorce, but it hadn't been her fault that she couldn't."

How peculiar world was. There was Dagur and his mother, who had wanted to live with him, but couldn't, and then there was Jack and his mother, who could live with him, but hadn't wanted to. Two opposite sides. Or maybe two sides of the same coin.

"I could see that I was going nowhere. I didn't have any plans for the future, I didn't have any real friends I could count on. I could see that something in me was… simply not right." He sighed, moving his hand and scratching the back of his head. "It wasn't like that one evening fully changed me, but I… I did feel like something in me back then wanted to change."

Hiccup nodded, not really sure what else to do.

"After some time I signed up for a therapy, later on I started a job, although with some help from my family and slowly, I don't know… felt like things started to change. For the better. But today kinda feels like a slap to my cheek."

"Ouch." Hiccup murmured, showing that he was still listening.

Because he did, intently. He was curious. Plus it seemed like Dagur needed to do it, not exactly to explain himself. It was something that probably had been on his consciousness for quite some time and he needed to let it out, needed to speak about what had been troubling his mind.

"I was angry at the beginning… maybe even furious. And I had… I had to get out and think, deal with it somehow." Dagur lifted the bottle, but then moved it down. "So I came here."

"And that?" Hiccup asked, pointing at the bottle.

"That helps me think and defuse."

"Doesn't alcohol make you think less coherently?"

"In too big amounts, yes."

"And what kind of amount is that?"

Dagur glanced at the half–empty bottle.

"Not even close to being too big amount."

Hiccup doubted it. Either Dagur had great resistance to alcohol or he was already losing the battle.

Hiccup would be dead drunk by now.

"And well… I came to a conclusion that I don't blame you for what you did. I mean, it hurt like son of a bitch, but yeah… can understand why you did that."

"I… I know."

"But it definitely hurt Heather."

Hiccup curled in on himself.

"I know that too." He said, licking the back of his teeth in the process, feeling the sour taste there. "But I think they should talk about it."

"If Heather wants to talk, that is."

"She definitely doesn't look like she wants to."

"Can you blame her?"

"No, not really." Hiccup shrugged. "I can't blame her for acting like that. I… probably would do the same, if I was in her shoes."

Hiccup could understand the pain they had caused. The roots of Berserk's siblings' behaviors hadn't been wrong, they had been beautiful and sweet even. A feeling of liking someone – maybe it had been even a first drop of pure love – only had wanted to grow. They had acted like that due to their wildly beating hearts. Only they had done it in a very wrong way.

However, in the end, the source had been pure, sweet and warm. And Hiccup couldn't blame them for that.

Love was such a peculiar thing. Not only love, but falling in it, liking someone. It all was so bizarre. How one smile could make someone's day, how a few words could lift someone's spirit, how one meeting could last a lifetime and yet not long enough. But love wasn't only about the heart. Love was about friendship, about understatement, about being able to talk freely with this person, about not having to hide, about not being afraid to share secrets and fears and about knowing that this someone would be here through thin and thinner and nothing.

Love was about safety.

Hiccup didn't feel that around Dagur.

(But with Jack it was a totally different matter. Jack made him feel welcomed, protected, calm and peaceful, like a warm blanket thrown over shoulders in the middle of the winter or like a warm cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows drifting on the surface.)

There were a few questions which still plagued Hiccup's mind. Questions, inquires that wanted answers, clawed his mind and grew on his skull's walls like a persistent fungus or moss.

However there was something stopping him, something holding tightly onto him to prevent from moving forward.

So he reached his hand towards Dagur and asked:

"Can I take a sip?"

To say that Dagur was surprised would be an understatement.

He hesitated only for a moment, before he passed the bottle.

"Sure… be my guest."

Hiccup reached and took the bottle, moving it closer to his mouth, but stopping there.

In the end there was a brief silence before he took a small sip.

The alcohol burned his throat and mouth and for a moment he was afraid he would die as he wasn't sure whether he should splutter the liquid or swallow it, but in the end opted for the second option.

He took a breath after that.

Well, in the end… it wasn't that bad.

"Wow." Dagur mumbled.

In this moment Hiccup was kinda happy about his Scandinavian heritage.

But one sip wasn't enough, so after a minute or so he took another one, feeling the warmness traveling through his core, like a heat exchanger, warming the needed parts and making his brain and heart cool down a bit. Only then he finally started speaking.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"No better time than now." Dagur said and then took the bottle away from him to take a sip by himself.

"Why me?"

"What about you?"

Hiccup huffed.

"Why do you… like me?"

The bottle halted in its journey and stayed glued to the lips, like it was in a harbor, waiting for someone to unload the goods it had.

And then Hiccup's thoughts cascaded like a waterfall. It was a violent reaction with a nitric acid after adding a small amount of the reactant. For a moment there was nothing, only a sound of magnetic stir bar twirling. Then the foam gathered at the surface and rose up, quicker and faster, bubbling and heaving, only to spill out of the beaker in the end.

"Uh I mean like… you know… like more than a typical like? Like more than a friendship… like a… uhhh… you know maybe possible a cru… sh? I mean… I always kinda thought it was…. something like that…. but you know… a bit more fucked up… okay, way more fucked up… but I never really understood why… and to be fair I wasn't that curious until now, but somehow now this question you know… just popped into my mind and you know… you don't have to answer it…" Then he inhaled deeply. "Oh shit, did I use the wrong tense?"

Then Dagur chuckled. Of all the things he could do right now, he decided to laugh at him.

Hiccup was definitely not happy about that. His stomach even more so, twisting nervously inside his body, letting out a few squeaks in the process.

"No… it's... in okay tense I suppose."

Somehow this didn't calm Hiccup down.

"And you could it that… crush is… probably a fitting word."

Hiccup was too afraid to call it something more. He desperately didn't want that.

"Okay, so… why?"

Dagur took a sip, moved his hand and brushed his lips, only to pass the bottle back to Hiccup.

Who, even though really shouldn't drink right now, grabbed the bottle anyway and took another sip. Somehow he felt like he would need it right now.

"I… actually don't know…" Dagur started, licking his lips first and clearing the throat. One hand moved to scratch the cheek. "I mean I more or less know how it started, but I don't know how it evolved into… this…"

"Okay." Hiccup nodded.

He could understand that. Love was bizarre. Love was weird. Love was an unknown. Not explainable. Not described by any formulas. Not obeying laws or any programs.

Love was simply something beyond those simple, but harsh human rules.

"So when or how it all started?"

Dagur shrugged. Or maybe sniffed. Or maybe shrugged and sniffed.

"Uh… I think it started a few years ago… It wasn't anything like majorly big or like… you know something memorable for other people, but I don't know, it stuck to me…" He sighed and then clasped his hands together, brushing the skin with the thumb. "It was probably dumb. Now that I think about it, it was kinda dumb."

"I'm sure it wasn't."

"It really was." Dagur moved and then massaged his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in the end.

"You're stalling."

Dagur huffed, letting his hand drop down.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Hiccup mumbled, taking another sip.

But damn, he was really curious now.

"No, it's okay." Dagur murmured and then inhaled deeply, letting his chest expand widely, stretching the white elegant shirt he still wore.

He probably had come here the moment he had left the prom. Had ran away as fast as possible, trying to hide from the curious eyes and whispering mouths.

Hiccup could understand that. He really did.

"Will it surprise you if I say it started here?"

"Here?" Hiccup asked, parroting the last word that echoed between them.

He had spent quite a lot of time in this wood as a kid, walking these paths alone or running around with the twins, Snotlout, Astrid and Fishlegs, playing tag or hide and seek, pretending to be pirates, warriors or princesses going to a ball.

(Yes, all of them. Snotlout had been a very grumpy princess.)

"Yeah, I think you were… running after the twins or something like that because you were shouting for them."

"That is possible."

"And I was uh walking around here? Somewhere nearby anyway... I think I had gotten into a fight that day. It probably had been with my dad. Or maybe not, maybe with someone else. To be fair I don't remember it that well."

Maybe he really didn't or maybe the alcohol already had covered the memories with the blanket of fog.

"I wanted to get away, to hide from the world, so you know… I came here."

Hiccup thought that a lot of people did it. Hid here in these forests.

(There were a few nooks and crannies where teenagers could disappear for a moment to drink or do other stuff.)

"And then you like crashed into me."

"Sounds like something I would do."

"And we both fell down." Dagur chuckled. "I remember I was so ready to yell at you, maybe even punch you for that, but you just… started apologizing profusely and then got up and tried to help me get up and I don't know… this whole situation was so bizarre that I simply stopped moving." Another soft snort left his lips. "And then you glanced at me, gasped, took out a pack of tissues and told me that you didn't want to hurt me."

Yep, this really sounded like something he would do.

"I think that the twins were calling you, because you jumped and told me that you had to go…" Dagur suddenly inhaled. "But then you took out a band-aid from your backpack, gave it to me and said that you hoped I would feel better soon. And then you simply… ran away."

Hiccup took another sip.

"I got a good look at myself after that and well I had some bruises and small cuts or something like that, nothing majorly terrible. And I don't know… it probably will sound really stupid to you, but… you were so weirdly kind without a reason that it kinda broke me?"

Hiccup winced.

"I couldn't stop thinking about it. Then you appeared in High School one day and I don't know… it all went downhill from that point." Dagur sighed and then reached for the almost empty bottle. "You probably don't remember it."

Hiccup nodded. He totally did not remember bumping into Dagur in this forest. But to be fair he had had to be pretty young back then as it had had to happen four or more years ago. Hiccup could still be a kid. But so had been Dagur.

"But I did." The teen mumbled, passing the bottle from hand to hand. "Your kindness captivated me, so I wanted more and more of it. And did things by force just to get it."

"Because it was the only way you knew."

"Yeah…" Dagur sniffed and then hiccupped. "I'm still not justifying my actions or searching for excuses, but I guess I just… I wanted you to know the foundations of them."

Hiccup nodded. He wasn't sure what he had expected from Dagur, but what he got was almost weirdly sweet, even though he couldn't remember his own side of the story.

How one small thing could lead to all of this – so much pain, fear and hostility?

(But not only bad and negative things had bloomed out of this. There had been also lovely and delicate moments, filled with serenity. Would they even happen, if that one thing hadn't taken place in their life?)

Hiccup's brain probably would never understand the mystery of life. Maybe he didn't even want to.

Dagur took a sip and swayed.

"I think… I needed this slap actually."

"You did?" Hiccup asked, a little bit bewildered.

This wasn't what he expected to hear right now, right after this story. But then Dagur had had a lot of time to think, at least a few hours had been spent with silence and loneliness as his only companions, when the thoughts, good and bad, had been plaguing his mind.

Sometimes bad situations could lead to good outcomes. Not always. But every so often something kind and nice could start from the darkness.

"Yeah… I think I can finally… somehow move on."

"Oh." Hiccup mumbled. "That is… good. I'm really happy about it."

And he really was. He didn't want for Dagur to waste all his life for nothing. He had changed for the better and Hiccup could only hope that the road in front of him would be a little bit brighter now.

Dagur nodded.

"Yeah."

Hiccup stole the bottle away from Dagur's hands. There was barely anything left in it.

"Cheers to better times?" He asked, feeling as his mind turned to fog.

Dagur glanced at him, swinging his gaze from left to right, but then focused his eyes and nodded while swaying his head.

It seemed that in the end both of them were intoxicated. Hiccup a bit less than Dagur, but still.

"Sure."

Hiccup took his last sip. He passed the bottle to the teen who whispered a quiet 'cheers' and finished the bottle.

The whole moment was bizarre, but somehow the small smile, hiding somewhere in the wrinkles on Dagur's lips made Hiccup feel better, lighter, less messed up.

It didn't fix anything in their past. It was still as hollow and empty as a black hole. It didn't change the fact that, in the end, Hiccup didn't regret doing what he had done. It didn't change those important things.

But Hiccup somehow felt lighter and could see the bright sparks of sunlight in the distance of their future.

He was simply happy for Dagur for finding those lone atoms of positivity in this dark moment of his life, grabbing them and allowing to light up the road.

So they sat together for a minute or so, before Dagur opened his mouth:

"I don't think I'll be able to get back home on my own feet."

Hiccup snorted and quickly covered his mouth after that. Somehow the whole concept of this situation amused him. And to be fair he could already feel the lumpiness and dopiness in his own limbs.

"Come on, I'll help you get home. It's late."

Dagur glanced up at the graying sky.

"I would say that it's probably pretty early."

Hiccup hoisted himself up, swaying back and forth a few times.

"Okay smartass… time to go home."

Dagur groaned, but in the end stood up. And then he crashed down, almost welcoming the ground with his face.

Well this definitely couldn't be easy, could it?

Jack welcomed the message with a shivering heart, feeling his fingers tensing for a moment, before they seemed to almost lose the grip on whatever they were holding. Which right now was his phone.

"Hiccup wrote back." He said, feeling as his voice trembled. "He is okay." Then he read more. "And he found Dagur?"

"What!?"

"Yeah, he says that Dagur is also okay." Jack scrolled further down. "And that is all."

"Where is he?" Heather's mother insisted, looking at him, almost pleading to spill the secrets Jack wasn't hiding.

"I, I don't know. Hiccup didn't write me that. I'll ask him."

He wrote a quick reply, asking where Hiccup was and what had happened to Dagur.

Stoick, who was sitting at the table and just a few minutes ago had seemed like he had been on the verge of breaking down, turning into nothingness, massaged his face, exhaling loudly. His shoulders slumped down, letting all the weight slid off, leaving only void in its place.

"The important thing is that they are both okay. And that they would return home safe."

The bulky man grumbled something under his nose, something that highly resembled:

"You don't know that yet."

But one glance from Stoick shut him up.

Helen slumped down on one chair, crumpling a rag she had been holding before. It seemed like she needed something to hold onto, some kind of safe point that would guide her back to the reality when the storm was going on around her.

It was already pretty late.

Jack glanced down.

"I'll… tell Heather and Astrid the good news."

They had gone out a few minutes earlier. Heather had needed some fresh air and Aster had accompanied her.

It seemed that tonight had been too much for the poor girl and Jack couldn't really blame her. Especially as he had been at fault here and he could only imagine what she had to feel. Betrayed one moment and alone during another.

It was a terrible night to live through.

Jack walked through the quiet and still house towards the front door. He halted his steps for a moment, listening in on any sounds coming from the outside world. But there wasn't any, so he went out.

The fresh air caressed his cheeks the moment he stuck his head out. It was a familiar movement, comforting even, one similar to a mother gently touching the child's face.

(Some part of Jack felt that it was the case.)

It seemed like the outside world was dipped in silence, covered with a thick veil of stillness that prevented everything from moving. The birds weren't peeping, the insects weren't flying around, there were no cars moving through the streets.

It felt like a different world. Not exactly better. Not precisely worse. Just different. Maybe a bit off, but not bad.

Jack exhaled and looked around, trying to find Aster and Heather.

For a moment he was afraid they had gone for another tour around the streets in search of Dagur, but no, they were there, leaning their backs on the building and not speaking. But they didn't look uncomfortable in each other's presence. On the contrary. It was the calmest Jack had seen Heather since he had appeared in this household tonight.

Aster immediately lifted his head when Jack stepped closer, sending him a tired almost smile.

Heather glanced up, but then directed her eyes down and moved her sneakers through the mud. She was still in her prom dress, but had ditched the beautiful, polished shoes for comfort of other footwear.

Jack decided to be as straightforward as he could.

"Hiccup found Dagur. They are both okay." He simply said.

Aster's eyes widened as he stared at him, but there was some relief too after fully comprehending what he just had said.

"That's –"

But he didn't manage to finish, because Heather surged forward and grabbed Jack's shirt, gripping it tightly and almost ripping it.

"Where is he? What is he doing? Did anything happen to him? Does he need help getting home?"

So many questions and Jack didn't know the answer to any of them. But he wished he did.

"I…" He started and licked his lips. "I don't know. Hiccup just answered my message and told me that he found him and that they both were fine."

Heather stared at him for a good minute, almost like she was trying to gauge whether he was speaking the truth or not. But after a minute or so, she let her hands slip down, hanging limply near her sides. After that came a loud sigh and she moved back to her spot near the wall. Her hands moved up to cover the face, making a small nest so she could hide there for a moment, not exactly away from the world, but away from something. It was her safe and secure home for just a few seconds.

Jack scratched the back of his neck.

Aster glanced at him, then at Heather and moved his palm to rest it on her shoulder.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Does alcohol counts?" Heather mumbled.

"Not really. I mean I totally could get you some, but I don't think your mom would allow that."

"Tea, please."

Aster nodded.

"You, Jack?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine."

Another nod.

"Be back in a bit."

And with that he disappeared in the house.

Heather let her face rest in her hands, possibly collecting thoughts that tried to escape through the fingers.

Jack wasn't sure what to do. He felt like he should be doing something. Saying things that should be said. Doing things that should be done. Listening to things that should be heard. But nothing of such occurrence was happening currently.

He felt all alone in a situation in which he wasn't sure how to act.

"I'm happy that everything turned out okay in the end." He finally said, hinting on a hopeful tone.

Heather glanced at him through her fingers.

"Nothing turned out alright yet. Don't lie to me nor to yourself."

A harsh blow. One which made his heart crumble, dissipate into small pool of something that once had been solid and full.

"Okay." Jack said.

Then they simply stood there with Heather leaning on the building and Jack not being sure what he should and could even do. The world around them seemed like some kind of faraway picture they couldn't exactly reach. It felt altered, like it didn't even belong here, in this dimension. Everything was too still, too unmoving, too calm.

The storm had rattled the house and yet right now everything was incredibly quiet.

It took Aster a lot of time to finish one or two drinks. Or maybe he wasn't planning on bringing them anytime soon. That was probably it.

Jack wiggled his fingers and then he simply mumbled into the dead night.

"Heather, I'm sorry."

The girl twitched and then let the hands drop, staring right at Jack. One long lock curled on her forehead and cheek, casting a shadow on the eyes.

"You think that is enough? One simple sorry and that everything would be back to normal?"

Jack didn't think so. He wasn't sure he even had the hope in himself for that. It all had been too cruel, too selfish, too terrible to be fixed with one simple word, in one simple night.

"No." He shook his head. "It's not enough." Not matter what he would do, it wouldn't be enough. "But you deserve it. My apologies. So I'm sorry."

To this it seemed Heather had no answer. She stared at him for a good long minute, maybe even more, scanning him with these brisk and intelligent eyes, eyes that right now held so much pain and worry that it seemed like they were drowning.

In the end it seemed like she didn't plan to say anything at all, so Jack continued.

"You don't have to accept it, because I know I hurt you. I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to cause you pain. So I'm sorry that I did. It wasn't my intention."

"Then what was your intention?"

Jack opened his mouth, but then closed it when no words flew towards it. He felt like he should have an immediate answer, because he knew why he had done it all. He knew the reasons. But suddenly speaking them out loud, forming sentences from scattered words, sounded like a difficult task, one that was almost impossible to fulfill.

"You changed back then Heather." He finally started, trying to find the perfect combination of words to not make the situation way worse. But maybe that was impossible. "And I can't say that you changed for the better. You started to be demanding, needy in all the wrong ways, you were always there beside me, almost forcing yourself on me."

"Isn't that what friends do? Spend time together?"

"What we did couldn't be called spending time." Jack mumbled. "You tried to get something I couldn't give you."

Love was sweet, passionate, but delicate and comforting. It was a feeling Jack couldn't give her. Or at least not in the form Heather wanted to have it, wanted to clutch tight in her small and cold hands. The soft friends love hadn't been enough for her, so she had tried to steal something more.

Heather glanced at him.

"I just wanted you to like me."

"You can't force people to do that." Jack said.

Something so pure couldn't be forced. Nor could it be planned. Hearts played by theirs own rules, wrote them down only to destroy the list in the next second, leaving dark smudges on the white paper.

Heather glanced at him, but didn't comment it. It seemed that there were thoughts rummaging through her head, possibilities, calculations that swam, skipped across the lake like stones.

"I admit. I didn't play it out in the best way. I panicked. I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to hurt you." Even when he had been fed up with Heather, even when he had literally escaped her, he never had wanted for her to be in pain. "So I'm sorry."

No matter how many times Jack would say it, it wouldn't change a single thing. He thought he would feel better, saying this while Heather listened, but it did little to soothe the guilt tightening its chains around his chest.

For a long moment there was silence around them. Silence that Jack wasn't sure he should disturb.

Heather stared at the ground with crossed arms. Her eyebrows moved, getting closer to each other and then moving further away, with thousands of wrinkles appearing on her scrunched nose. The anger was still there, etched in the once sweet dimples on the cheeks. But there was also something else. Some kind of hesitation and unsureness.

(It seemed like Aster wasn't planning on coming back anytime soon.)

And when Jack thought that maybe he should get back to the house and wait for Hiccup, Heather opened up.

"I always thought there was something fishy in your relationship. I mean, it appeared one day out of nowhere."

"Maybe because we came up with it in one day."

"You both?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded.

"How it all even started?"

Their plan was fully destroyed. There was no way of building it again. And to be fair Jack didn't want that. He had enough of having to lie to everyone, of having to pretend.

(Even though this pretending had given him one of the sweetest emotion and even more amazing moments of his life.)

"Well it all started in a bathroom."

Heather glared at him.

"It's true. You can ask Hiccup, he would confirm this."

Heather didn't look like she believed him.

Jack sighed, moved closer and leaned his back on the building too, feeling the coldness seeping into the back of his suit.

"One day after training, when I was walking through the school corridor, I heard voices coming from the bathroom. They didn't sound like anything good so I went to check it and well…"

This part was worse. The words stuck to his mouth, tongue, teeth, throat, preventing him from even hissing out one full sentence.

But he had to do it. Not only for Heather, but also for himself.

(The secret had been hidden deep in his heart for so long that it had morphed into something else, a shadow creature filled with guilt and hesitation.)

"Your brother was there." Jack finally mumbled, feeling his lungs squeezing inside his chest, hugging themselves like they wanted to gather some courage. "And well…" He had to say it. He had to will his tongue to move. "I'm pretty sure it could be called sexual harassment. I mean, the things he was doing there to Hiccup."

Heather didn't comment, but definitely frowned at that.

(She didn't deny it though. Which scared him a lot.)

"And he… Hiccup looked so scared, so… terrified that I…. knew right here, right there I wanted to help him. Help him lose this fear from his eyes. And I… I guess I just panicked. I blurted out the first thing that had popped into my mind." His one hand moved to scratch the nape of his neck, but stopped midway, letting his hand float in the air. "Now that I think about it, it's weird that faking being together was the first thing that came to my mind. But I suppose under stress the mind works in a mysterious way."

Or at least this was what Hiccup had told him. People couldn't think coherently while being put under too much stress.

"Dagur clearly didn't believe me and hey, I can't really blame him. That was… pretty random thing to say." Jack inhaled deeply. "But it worked."

He felt weird, remembering all those small details and moments. He could almost see Hiccup in front of his eyes, snapping at him for coming up with this bizarre plan and then later on thanking him embarrassedly.

He could remember the awkwardness, the clumsiness, the inelegance of the whole moment. They had been just two strangers, trying to live through another day, another hour, another minute. Two souls that hadn't really known each other.

"At first we didn't really plan to prolong this plan. I mean, we didn't talk about it that day or anything like that. We just parted ways and that was all." Hard to believe, now that Jack thought about it.

Back then Hiccup had been just a random person, no one that important to Jack. Another student in the big crowd of faces surrounding him.

And now it seemed like Hiccup was the center of his attention, his very own Galactic Centre, a burning start around which Jack orbited.

"But then, during the next day, everyone started to talk about it, asking me and him whether it was true or not and then…" Another short spasm of breath escaped his body, leaving trails of foam on the shore. "You approached me and started talking, almost interrogating me about Hiccup. And when I admitted that we were together, it seemed… it felt like… like you would stop pursuing me." Jack admitted, feeling his heart skittering, skidding across the ice that covered his body during this surprisingly warm night. "And I just…"

"Could not grab the opportunity?"

It sounded bad, but it probably was true. Scratch that. It was the truth.

"Yeah… something like that." He mumbled.

Jack looked up at the sky, at the barely visible stars smeared all over the dark canvas. Currently he wasn't thinking about anything specific, yet there were fleeting emotions, sensations, images of something swimming through his head.

It seemed like whole years had passed between the encounter in the bathroom and this one – him and Heather standing together and talking in front of her house.

Jack cleared his throat.

"Hiccup and I then talked about it. I mean later on. About this whole bizarre plan and well… we agreed on prolonging it." Because the pros had been better than the cons.

They had talked about it more than once actually, giving each other rules, telling what they could and couldn't do. Of course there had been some things they hadn't discussed, some loopholes, small details they had missed. But in the end Jack had felt that it had been a solid plan. Especially considering where it had started.

"To be fair we didn't really think about keeping it up for so long." Jack continued. "Probably till the moment both of you would leave us alone."

Heather nodded and this was the only indication that she was still listening to him.

"But then you both did and there was no reason to keep up the plan." He licked his lips. "And yet we did it. We didn't stop pretending, even when there was no reason for it."

Jack could understand why Hiccup had wanted to do it. The fear of Dagur returning could be too big, too strong to let it drop.

Jack could excuse himself as much as he could, but he knew the real reason. He knew why he hadn't wanted to stop pretending.

Because this way he could feel his heart hammering loudly inside his chest, he could see Hiccup awkwardly smiling at his lame jokes, he could hear his voice when they talked about the universe or why paprika chips were better than onion ones, he could spend time together and feel more alive than ever before, with the happiness playing on the strings of his heart and filling him with pure love.

(He wasn't sure if it was love, but it was definitely something more than a simple fondness. A crush that had hit him hard. He wasn't sure if he ever had harbored so strong feelings for anyone else.)

Jack chuckled quietly, guiltily as he wasn't really sure what to say next.

"We definitely didn't plan to prolong it further on, after me finishing High School. This was supposed to be our last night, our goodbye. And well it ended as it ended." Then he sighed tiredly. "Maybe it is for the better that the whole school found out."

It definitely had done something to his chest. It hadn't taken the guilt away, but maybe he deserved it. He deserved the anger and madness that was thrown at him.

There was silence between them – something familiar yet new, something that seemed like a never-ending companion during this night and still an unwelcomed guest.

Heather moved, lifting her hands and crossing them on her chest.

"No, it wasn't for the better." She finally said, sounding incredibly tired. "I… shouldn't have done that."

That was… something Jack didn't expect. He definitely didn't blame Heather for bursting like that, for doing what she had done. Jack deserved it.

"And I shouldn't have pushed myself onto you before." Heather mumbled. "Back then I was… under a lot of stress, but somehow being with you felt good, comforting, like I belonged there." Heather huffed. "I thought that if I could really be with you, then everything would magically be right, because you would be with me." There was a small chuckle. "What a childish thinking."

Maybe it was, but part of Jack could understand it. He could see the reasons why Heather had tried to do it.

Spending time with someone special was soothing, was making him feel safe and accepted, a feeling that Jack desperately chased whenever he could.

Hiccup made him feel like that. Like everything would be alright, just because Hiccup was there, next to him.

"Everyone has their own copying mechanisms." Jack mumbled.

Heather inhaled, moving the arms higher, only to let them drop down.

"Not all of them are good though."

That was very much true. There were dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions of methods to deal with everything – grief, horrors, memories, illness, too much of everything and too little of something important.

Jack knew a lot about copying mechanisms. Or well not theoretically of course, but he had a fair deal of them himself.

(Dealing with his mom not wanting him in her life had been a hit. It hadn't been said directly, never had spoken with words, but it had been there, even when he had been living with Eris. There had been always something wrong that he had been doing, an imperfection in every movement, every word, every thought. He had been just an obstacle in her way to get things.

Jack hadn't understood it back then. No, as a kid his mind couldn't really comprehend what had been happening around him. The only thing he had known for sure back then had been the fact that he had felt bad, terrible.

He had never been more grateful than when North had taken him.)

"That is true." Jack finally murmured, feeling something dark squeezing his throat as a surge of memories moved through his head.

He had done things he had regretted – staying out late, not talking with anyone from his family, snapping and arguing on every step. He had been there.

(Tara had sat with him countless of times, talking, explaining stuff, even when he hadn't listened to her. Only after much time had passed he had appreciated what she had been doing back then. She hadn't had to do that, Jack wasn't her biological son, but Tara had been more his mother the moment he had stepped into North's household, than his own real one had ever been.)

"But it's still better to voice out feelings than to bottle them up. You cried and shouted and blew up and… that was okay." Jack sighed. "I did hurt you and you showed your pain."

"How can you do that?" Heather whispered.

"Can do what?" Jack parroted, not really sure what the girl had meant.

"See something good in even the worst situation?"

Jack opened his mouth, but closed it when he found out that he had no immediate answer.

Maybe he didn't really know the answer to that question.

He always had tried to be the most optimistic one, but it had been hard. He had kept a smile on his face, but it had been a fake one, forced, just to show everyone. He had tried to be the happy goofball everyone had thought he had been.

But it had been wrong.

Or not fully wrong.

There was nothing bad in seeing something good in the darkness around. Everyone needed a little bit of light, some people more often and some people less so. It was the pressure and obligation of it that had been wrong in Jack's case. A label he had tried to put on himself. A worry about himself he had thrown away, like something he hadn't needed.

"Well… someone has to do it right now." Jack said. "It had been a harsh lesson, but we can only learn from it, grab the small light to call our own." Then he turned his head and smiled at the girl. "And then, maybe when I won't be able to see the good in the darkness around, you will be able to do it for me."

Heather stared at him for good thirty seconds, before she snorted.

"What's with you and saying such grandiloquent stuff?"

Jack shrugged.

"Probably the alcohol is doing that."

Heather chuckled again.

It was a bizarre experience, altered, surreal.

There were a lot of things left unsaid, a lot of memories, situations that were kept right inside their hearts, but which had been the base for some of the things they had done. They both had had to be in really dark places to act like they had done.

(It was clear that there had been and perhaps even were some issues in the Berserk family. Something that couldn't be so easily said out loud. Something that shouldn't be said to the not right ears. And maybe Heather had wanted Jack to be this someone who could save her from the bad that had been happening in her life. Maybe she had painted this perfect picture inside her head and almost had believed it to be a slice of the real life.)

"You were right in one thing."

Heather hummed under her nose to show that she was listening.

"I do want to help you. I don't really want to see you hurt."

Jack didn't want to see anyone hurt. He knew he couldn't save the whole globe. He was conscious of the fact that it was impossible to save every small soul that was travelling across the Earth.

But he could try to save the people in his own small world.

"So if you ever feel down or need some help, then please call me. As friends."

Heather glanced at him, then hung her head.

"Really, what's with you and blabbering such maudlin stuff tonight?"

Jack shrugged.

"Well I'm just speaking the truth."

"Mushy truth."

"But the truth nevertheless."

Heather inhaled deeply, and there was some crookedness at the end, some high tone, some broken wall that crumbled down.

"If you say so." She said.

This was probably as close to an agreement as Jack could get.

It didn't mean that everything between them was fixed though. It probably couldn't be fixed in one night, or two, or three. Maybe it never could be fixed. The cuts needed time to scare and hopefully heal properly in the end. Or maybe they would always be there, a sore reminder of what he had done.

And that would be fine too.

There was a beat of silence between them before Heather said:

"Aster is taking awfully long time to bring the drink."

Jack chuckled.

"Well I don't think that getting something to drink was his main task."

"A double agent then, hiding among my crew."

"That is more likely–"

Then they heard a sound. Something resembling a laughter, mixed with a hiccup and a growl. Pretty weird combination if Jack could say so himself. And it was coming from the street, not so far away from them.

A short stumble resonated in the air, another short chuckle and then a curse.

Someone was returning from a party? Maybe even from the prom they hastily had exited, leaving poor Tooth all alone there. It was a possibility, there were many students living nearby.

Yet there was a smudge of familiarity in it. In the sounds getting closer and closer.

It picked Heather's interest too as she glanced at Jack.

Then they both jumped and ran towards the pavement, turning their heads to the left.

There were two people walking, one hanging on the other, with the arm thrown over the shoulder. Or actually walking was quite an exaggeration. More like shuffling while swinging from left to right almost like in a drunk haze.

Or maybe it was a drunk haze.

The pair almost crashed into the trash bins and a loud curse once again resonated in the air, followed by a giddy laughter that tore away from the chest. Then there was another sway towards the streets, more dangerous one. Gladly at this hour there were no driving cars. And even if there were, the drivers would probably move as far away from the drunk pair as possible.

And when Jack wanted to turn around, move back towards the house and aid his trashed with hope heart, he heard a familiar voice:

"I told you that… you can't walk in a straight… line."

"I uh… totally… can do that. You're just trying to make me… fall!"

"Me?! I'm trying to… keep your head above the ground level!"

"I like the ground level! Let me smooch it!"

"I mean if you want to…"

There was a short struggle and one person visibly slipped down.

"Okay, I changed my… mind."

"If you say so."

For a moment Jack couldn't really believe what he was hearing and seeing. It seemed like some part of a very lucid dream, a nice sleep that had overpowered his body. It seemed like this wasn't reality.

But the chilly night wind caressed his cheeks as he stepped forward, in tow with Heather. But then she was moving in front of him, making step after step, getting closer to the pair, slowly, but surely.

Jack wanted to say something, anything. He felt like a giant burden had been taken from his shoulders. He had known that everyone was safe and sound and fine, but being able to see it with his own eyes was a totally different matter.

However before he could say the name, Heather beat him to it:

"Dagur?"

The said teen snapped his head up, although a little bit sluggishly. He also had problems with focusing on one point. It seemed like he desperately wanted to, but there was some kind of error inside his brain, some kind of firewall that was preventing him from doing it.

"Oh uh… hi Heather?"

It was spoken hesitantly, vaguely, like he wasn't really sure how to act in such a situation. And maybe that was right, maybe he didn't know that.

Jack couldn't blame him. He himself wasn't sure what to do.

But Heather moved forward, stepped impossibly closer and just punched Dagur right in the stomach. Hard. Making him curl in on himself and probably lose all the air from his body in one short, quick huff.

Jack shivered.

Hiccup, who was holding Dagur, winced.

That definitely had to hurt.

"What the hell, Heather?!"

"I've been worried sick about you! You just fucking left without telling anyone anything! Do you have any idea what we've been going through when you were away?! How were we feeling?" Heather shouted, fuming with anger so bright that she looked like a star right now.

Dagur twitched and looked down.

"I'm… sorry…" He slowly said.

Heather opened her mouth, furrowing the eyebrows, and Jack was so sure she would start yelling again, she would start shouting more, blaming everything in the universe for all the pain everyone had lived through.

But she didn't utter a word. They died in her throat, disappearing into nothingness, before they could form something coherent.

(And maybe it was for the better.)

Heather clamped her mouth shut and stepped closer, still with furrowed eyebrows. Her shoulders twitched, elbows rose and hands swished.

Jack made a small step forward, lifting his own palms to prevent the girl from doing something stupid, something she would regret.

But stopped in his place when Heather wrapped her arms around Dagur, taking the weight away from Hiccup's shoulders who slowly slipped away.

Dagur leaned on her, face crookedly laying on her shoulders with nose hidden in the dark curls running down her back. He looked perplexed, out of the place, with hands hanging limply near the sides of his body.

"Heather?" Dagur sluggishly asked, trying to connect the letters into one coherent word.

"You fucking dumbass." The girl whispered, leaning closer and tightening the embrace.

Dagur opened his mouth and then glanced at Jack and Hiccup, like they could answer his every question.

But they couldn't. It wasn't their place to do so anyway.

The teen turned his head, staring at the back of his sister's head. The gears had to start moving in his head, giving commands and slowly, but surely processing everything that was happening around them, because he slowly raised his hands, moving them across Heather's back, towards her shoulder blades.

"Dagur!"

It was Helen, running through the grass towards her two kids, who separated and looked at her.

"Oh… uh… hi… mom." Dagur said, gluing the words together and looking anywhere but at his mother.

It seemed like the woman wanted to say something too. There was a plethora of emotions running through her face – anger, guilt, relief, happiness, sadness, fear. So many stars that made constellations across the skin of her cheeks.

And similar to her daughter, she finally shrieked:

"What were you thinking?!"

Jack started to wonder if their scuffle woke up some of the neighbors. Maybe a few lone souls were peeking from behind the curtains to check what the commotion happening on the calm street was about.

Dagur opened his mouth, dropping his head and looking at the ground, probably hoping it would swallow him whole.

"I… I'm sorry." He repeated himself one more time.

The woman moved closer, the tired wrinkles on her face making place for something else.

"Dagur, I…" She started angrily, raising her voice by an octave only to stop in the middle.

She put her trembling hands on his cheeks and slowly raised the face so Dagur would stare at her.

"I've been so worried about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you." There was a small break, a sudden drop in the voice, similar to a crack of a thunder.

Maybe she was on the verge of tears.

"I…" Dagur started again and stopped, clearly at a loss of words.

Jack couldn't blame him. After a day like today he wouldn't know what to say either. Heck, he didn't know what to say right now.

Dagur was staring right at Helen, at his mother, and there was a tremble to his eyelids, to his eyelashes, to his lips, a sudden tired hollowness appeared in the eyes, an exhaustion so deep and heavy that it broke the bones and tore apart the muscles.

Dagur simply slumped forward, burying his face in his mother's neck, moving drunk hands across her back to grip the woman tighter.

"Oh honey…"

Helen's own hands moved to wrap themselves around her son, holding tighter, even closer, like by doing it she wanted to glue all the broken pieces back together. Like if she pushed hard enough, everything would suddenly be okay.

Jack knew it wasn't possible. The woman knew it too.

But she hugged him and kept close, mashing the heartbeats together, keeping all the remaining parts and preventing them from crumbling to dust.

(And maybe, maybe that was okay. Life wasn't about picking the broken pieces and putting back together the same pictures from before. Life wasn't some puzzle game. Life wasn't that simple. But a person could sweep all the broken pieces and throw them away or keep them in some box and then start building something new, something that they would like. Every day, every morning, every afternoon, every evening, every night could be a starting point. There didn't have to be anything big happening around for someone to pick up the stone or piece of wood and start carving the new parts and pieces of the body. It could be a normal moment, a typical second, filled only with need, a spastic hope that could burst and die immediately. But it didn't matter. The hope could start a fire. Sometimes this small spark was the only thing needed to start threading something new from the wool of possibilities.)

Helen lifted her head when Heather hesitantly stepped closer. No words were needed between them as the woman swept her daughter into a tight hug.

A small imperfect family.

But life wasn't perfect.

And it was okay.

Jack felt a smile tug on his lips, a bittersweet one, filled with pain and happiness, stress and calmness, anger and peacefulness that could rattle the heart.

Then there was a warm hand on his shoulder, bringing him closer.

Jack peeked up at Stoick, who glanced down at him, with a small, tired smile of his own.

Hiccup was standing beneath the other hand and leaning heavily into his father's side, almost contently, staring with a goofy, lopsided grin at the family hugging in the middle of the street at five am.

So Jack glanced back at the family too, feeling his heart swelling, beating in his chest and filling him with so much life that he was almost overwhelmed.

The night was a complete disaster. Or well at least he had thought so a few minutes ago.

But right now, when he was staring at Dagur, Heather and their mother, clearly broken, but keeping it together, building something new piece by piece, he thought that maybe, in the end, something good had happened during this night.

There was a long way ahead of them. Road filled with unknown. Road he was afraid of. Road that was difficult to walk on.

Helen moved back a bit and stared lovingly at her son. Only to finally say:

"You are grounded."

"What?!"

Jack chuckled under his nose at the absurdity of the moment, but maybe, possibly, that was okay.

Jack wasn't going to give up yet, keeping the small spark safe in his heart.

Author's note:

Ahhh we're almost at the end! One more chapter left! I feel both sad and happy about that. Hopefully I'll be able to upload it this year xD!

But I hope you liked this chapter :3!

And some nerdy and science fact:

*azidoazide azide - 1-diazidocarbamoyl-5-azidotetrazole is a heterocyclic inorganic compound. It is an extremely sensitive explosive, to the point of detonating from no obvious stimuli. This results in the near impossibility of conducting any sort of analysis of it.

*higher density of ionic liquid after evaporation process – during the evaporation process, the solvent is removed from the solution, so as a result the solution is more dense.

And as always, some answers:

vampireharry the 2 – Aw thank youuu :D. Though I think that the next chapter will be a bit later too xD!

Leonawhite3797 – It was supposed to be sad. But now I'm sad that you're sad D:! Though I still hope that you liked it ;_;!

Thank you for reading it! And see you in the last chapter =D!