Set during RTTE series 4: What if the Riders had arrived rather later they did in the episode 'Midnight Scrum'? Finally rescued, Hiccup is more affected by his ordeals than he lets on-but as he changes. can his friends help him return to the person they knew?

A/N: A few of these around but honestly, Midnight Scrum was just such an opportunity to explore all sorts of emotions and psychological sequelae from what happened. And since the writers were good enough to start with a scrum, a few more Rugby terms may accidentally slip in.

Disclaimer: I don't own How To train Your Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.

One: Turnover

Hiccup Haddock was definitely not trembling. He certainly was not afraid as he lay, curled on his side, wrapped tightly in ropes so he could not move and barely breathe. He wasn't lying shivering and scared in the hold of Ryker's ship as they sailed inexorably towards the Hunters' base and Viggo. It had to be the cold in the dank space that had him shivering, his shoulders hunched in a vain attempt to keep himself warm. And he was only lying curled up because he had been dragged from pillar to post, knocked out and dragged off by Berthel and Amos, grabbed by Savage, briefly rescued by Throk and then just as quickly snatched by the masked Viking before being handed over like a prize sheep to Ryker. And in the process he had been punched, fallen, tied up, kicked, had a chain slung around his throat which had been used to haul him along and had finally had Ryker punch him unconscious.

And he wasn't, under any circumstances, being taken to the Hunters so Viggo could kill the Dragon Rider himself.

He took a shuddering breath. His stupid pride-and, of course, his desire not to upset his father when he was leading the celebrations for Berk's four hundredth anniversary-had meant he was vulnerable and unprotected. He could have listened to Astrid, he could have explained to Stoick-though he was still astonished his father hadn't chewed him a new one for losing Berk's gold-and he certainly could have not wandered alone through the night time village on his way home but of course, he had known best and ignored the advice of the best warrior he knew. And him knowing best had landed him here, trussed up like a yak for the spit, waiting to face Viggo for the very last time.

He blinked. His throat was horribly painful, his voice a broken croak when he had tried to sass Ryker and he was curled because his middle felt like it had been crushed by the punch. Breathing hurt, lying there hurt-everything hurt.

And the fact he would never see Berk-or his father, friends, Toothless or Astrid-again hurt most of all.

He gave a slight gasp of pain as he tried to change position and ease the pressure on his already-numb arm. He hadn't given up, breaking free numerous times, running, fighting for his freedom-but the sad fact was that every single time, every person who had grabbed him had been stronger and more skilled than he was. They had all kicked his ass. His very best efforts, struggling for his life-had been useless.

The door to the hold slammed open and three hunters erupted in, somehow imagining he had managed to break free again and was waiting to ambush them. Even though his metal leg was missing, lost on that last island where the masked viking had been doubled-crossed by Ryker and Hiccup had made the choice to untie the rope around his leg and let the man drop to his death. His hand had been slipping and it had been a choice that Astrid, Snotlout or his father wouldn't have hesitated to make-but for Hiccup, it had been a watershed moment. And the vision of the man dropping away, the detached prosthetic grasped in his hand, still flashed across his vision. That was something else they had done to him: though he was certain that he and Toothless had caused deaths during the wars with the Outcasts and Berserkers, he had never killed a man one on one. He had never looked into a man's eyes as he died at Hiccup's hand-but the Hunters taken away that innocence as well.

Hands snatched his matted hair and he was dragged brutally to his foot, swaying and hissing in pain, unable to straighten up. His middle really was excruciating and breathing was sharply painful.

"Thanks…for the hand…" he croaked, wincing as rough hands locked on his shoulders and he was more or less dragged through the door and up a low stair, into an office. He gritted his teeth and looked up-to meet Ryker's cruel brown gaze. The big Hunter nodded and Hiccup was slammed brutally into a chair, facing the Hunter as bravely as he could.

"In a few hours, we'll be at Base-and then Viggo can finally kill you," Ryker gloated, his eyes inspecting the bowed shape in front of him. "But before then, I owe you for some of the trouble you have caused me…and of course, there are still some questions I need to ask you about your little base…and Berk's defences…" Hiccup stared at him.

"You…really think I'm gonna tell you anything when you're going to kill me anyway?" he croaked incredulously, his green eyes narrowing contemptuously. "They're coming for me, Ryker, So whether you do whatever you want…or lock me back up-you aren't escaping." He leaned closer. "Stoick the Vast will kill you."

He had expected Ryker to laugh but the man's deep chuckle just stiffened his resolve. He wasn't going to give him one second of satisfaction. The big man rose and drew his huge jagged knife-and Hiccup couldn't help but flinch, grit his teeth and turn away, expecting to feel the blade plunge into his body. But the pain erupted from his scalp instead as the man wrenched his head back, almost lifting him from the chair as the knife slid under the hem of his tunic, slicing brutally upwards through the fabric and his carefully tooled leather armour all the way to his neck. Ryder leaned closer, the tip of the blade sliding delicately over the trembling skin and digging slightly into the soft flesh under his chin. He could feel the man's foul breath on his skin as Ryker leaned close.

"I'm going to enjoy breaking you," he breathed, the tip of the knife sliding back down over the young Berkian's heaving chest, tracing the contours of his lean body. The knife grazed the waistband of his leggings. "And you will break, Hiccup. All I need to do is deliver you alive to my brother. And he won't care what I do to you on this journey, as long as you are conscious to feel the sword slide into your heart!"

Staring into the face that promised no mercy, no hope, nothing but swift and brutal pain, degradation and torture, Hiccup swallowed what saliva he had left to moisten his agonising throat.

"I won't break," he said roughly. "Do your worst." Ryker twisted the knife against his stomach and cut downwards into his skin.

"I will," he breathed.

oOo

The dragon riders were skimming low over the sea, flying as fast as they could in a group, led by Toothless, carrying Stoick and Astrid on Stormfly. The Chief had a face that would terrify a charging dragon and the group was quiet, the worry for their friend palpable. They had located the two ruffians who had kidnapped Hiccup from Berk and Savage, who had given up the location of the handover on Sleipnir Island. Throk had admitted he had been overcome by the masked Viking and everyone had been even more concerned.

"Why didn't he tell me about the bounty?" Stoick groaned and then froze. "It was what I said to him, wasn't it?" Astrid looked over her shoulder to the Chief and heard the guilt in his voice. It had been obvious when they had returned to Berk that the Chief was still furious at his son for losing Berk's gold and condemning them to poverty and hardship. Not that Hiccup didn't already blame himself but he had prepared himself to be publicly castigated for his failure and her friend hadn't wanted to admit any further failure to his Chief. Hiccup took every responsibility insanely seriously and even now, there was a part of him that was still that scrawny fifteen year old who would do anything, no matter how insane or dangerous to win his father's approval. When Stoick had said 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few', Hiccup had taken it as a message that the celebration was far more important than anything he could say. And he wouldn't listen to any amount of discussion that Astrid had pointedly had with him. He was as stubborn as the Chief himself.

"You know Hiccup," she sighed. "Sometimes his pride is bigger than his brain."

Toothless crooned worriedly. On the island, they had found a few scattered Hunter weapons, a discarded chain and-strangely enough-Hiccup's prosthetic leg, abandoned on the top of a cliff-but no sign of the missing Rider. So Heather had led them in the direction of the Hunters' main base and they had been flying for some time, worrying about the prisoner. Was Hiccup even alive or had he been already killed? Had Viggo gotten his hands on their friend? Or was there still hope?

"Hunter ships up ahead!" Fishlegs called, his normally gentle voice hard. The twins had stopped bickering and talking about the bounty that had placed on themselves, both stern-faced and ready for battle. And Heather was as grim as Astrid had ever seen her. She hefted her axe in her hands and soared up, seeing two Hunter ships, the larger one probably the older Grimborn's vessel.

"Heather, Snotlout-take the left," she called. "Twins, Fishlegs-you're on the right. The Chief and I will go through the centre!" She glanced over to Stoick but he nodded: the Riders were a well-oiled team of which he wasn't a part and he would usually allow Hiccup to lead them. It was clear that Astrid was well-qualified and accepted as his substitute in his absence. "Keep them distracted! We'll get Hiccup!"

With a roar, they dived down and attacked.

Dragon root arrows and dragon-proof chains shot up at them but they were much more experienced than they had been when they first met Ryker and every dragon avoided the missiles, a variety of blasts of flame, lava and plasma hammering the two ships viciously. The twins were whooping, gas coiling around the larger ship and temporarily masking the descent of Toothless and Stormfly as they sped down and landed hard. The Chief and Astrid leapt down, weapons readied and the dragons followed at their backs, batting away any Hunters foolish enough to try to stop them as the Zippleback gas finally exploded, knocking half of the Hunters off the ship. Then Stoick lunged forward and grabbed the nearest Hunter, lifting him easily off the deck.

"Where is my son?" the Chief roared, his axe raised. The man whimpered a little, his eyes trailing towards the door at the end of the passage. Astrid nodded as the Chief threw the man aside, not even watching him slam against the wall and slide down unconscious as they headed for the door. Blue eyes flicked up for askance of her Chief-and Stoick nodded, kicking the door in.

Astrid erupted in, seeing Ryker look up from his desk where he was bending forward towards a long, pale shape that was sagging pretty much unconscious from a chair. Ropes were tying the prisoner in place, his auburn head bowed forward. There was blood smeared over the pale skin, bruises black across his midriff, his chest and his neck with fresher welts on his face and cuts across his chest and torso. The big Hunter looked up, a bloody knife in his hand.

"Get away from my son!" Stoick roared and threw himself at Ryker as an explosion jolted the whole cabin sideways. Astrid steadied herself and scrambled forward, delicately using her axe to slice through the ropes and then she caught the limp shape that toppled into her arms.

"Hiccup?" she whispered. "Are you okay?" And she groaned inwardly. Looking at the battered state of him, 'okay' was about the furthest thing from an accurate description of his condition. But his bruised face twitched and his horribly bruised throat worked.

"A-Astrid?" he whispered brokenly. "You-you came…" Her heart broke a little at his tone: it was almost as if he had given up, had accepted his doomed fate at the hands of the Grimborns. But everyone had said Hiccup had fought at every stage of his captivity. She rested a hand on his face.

"Yeah, it's me," she said with forced levity. "We need to get you out of here." He nodded.

"Please," he murmured as she hauled him onto his foot: his leg almost buckled. Behind them, Stoick lifted Ryker by the neck.

"You put a bounty on one of us, you put a bounty on ALL of us," the Chief snarled. "And you get all of us. Take this message to Viggo. Stay away from my son-or I will kill you!" And then he punched the man, the impact crashing his unconscious shape onto the floor of the cabin. Then Stoick turned-to see the sagging shape of his son. All thoughts of Ryker dismissed, he moved urgently to Hiccup's side, catching the naked shoulders, grimacing at the abuse the young man had endured. The thick bruises across his throat in the shape of the links of the chain they had found sent his blood boiling and the Chief leaned close to his boy.

"Hiccup?" he murmured. Hiccup forced a weary smile onto his battered features.

"Hey, Dad," he mumbled. "Sorry I messed up the celebration…"

"Son…why didn't you tell me-about the bounty…?" Stoick whispered in a stricken voice.

"Needs of many…outweigh needs of few…" Hiccup repeated wearily. "I understand, Dad…"

"No," Stoick began. "That wasn't what I…"

Hiccup jerked, his eyes wide and mouth snapping open in a soundless cry of agony. His body arched and Astrid saw a knife protruding from the back of his chest. Ryker gave a nasty sneer then dived through the window of the cabin and into the water below. Hiccup folded.

"HICCUP!" the Chief cried, his eyes horrified. He swept the collapsing shape into his arms as Astrid rose, her axe gripped tight in her hands as they turned to the door.

"TOOTHLESS!" Astrid shouted, her eyes seeing Hiccup's frightened and pained emerald gaze flutter closed. "Sir-we have to get him back to Berk-now!" Grimly, the Chief clutched his only child against his body and ran for the dragons.

They had Hiccup back-but at what cost?