A/N: Okay, no idea where this came from. No idea...This is more than a one-shot. This is going to be a (rather short) fully fledged chapter story :) So buckle up and enjoy! Also, a review here and there couldn't hurt

The mid morning sun stared down at the little Isle of Berk, the autumn leaves gently falling.

Gobber hummed happily to himself as he worked in the forge, banging away happily on a new sword. It was clear they needed more weapons after what had happened last night.

The dragon attack had been the worst they'd ever seen. The dragons had torched roofs, stolen sheep, and Hiccup had run out in the middle of the attack – again.

Gobber sighed when he thought of Hiccup. The scrawny little fishbone, his apprentice, never thought too deeply before doing something, especially when it seemed promising enough to help him kill a dragon.

The boy was growing up fast – too fast, in Gobber's opinion. Where once he had been short and young, with innocent, grass-green eyes and an open smile, he was taller and lanky, with hardened eyes and a sarcastic sense of humor, but no smile in sight.

Gobber was going to miss the innocent young boy he'd been, but they all had to grow up sometime.

Speaking of Hiccup, he thought, glancing at the tattered red curtain that hid Hiccup's workplace from the rest of the forge.

He either wasn't there or hadn't come out since Gobber had entered. Gobber was willing to bet it was the second one. Hiccup rarely spoke to anyone except Gobber and he'd become increasingly quieter over the past few weeks.

Gobber put his weapon down and withdrew the curtain, looking behind it. A few drawings fluttered in the sudden breeze, but there was no red-haired fishbone in sight.

Just an empty work desk with a leather journal open, displaying a drawing of a weapon.

Oh, that boy was going to go on to be the most brilliant Viking of the age, Gobber was sure…

But in a world where brains didn't matter and brawn did, Hiccup would willingly have given it all up for a place on Berk where he fit in.

And he wasn't here, thought Gobber worriedly. Judging by the position of the sun alone, he would have guessed it was high noon.

Hiccup should have been here by now…

Chewing his lip worriedly, he decided to check on the boy.

Stoick had just gone out at dawn that day to find the dragons' nest again, leaving Gobber and a few others behind to defend the island.

Gobber hurried towards the chief's hut first. Hiccup was more likely to be in the forest, but old habits died hard and Gobber decided to go to his home first.

The moment he got in there, he knew Hiccup was there.

There were loud bumps and crashes coming from one of the upstairs rooms.

Gobber walked up the stairs, his prosthetic thumping and dragging behind him. He reached Hiccup's door and knocked softly.

The din from inside ceased. "Come in," called a very tired voice, followed by a long bout of coughing.

Gobber opened the door and saw the boy sitting on his bed, cheeks bright red. He was coughing violently and his hair wasn't the usual rich auburn, instead a drained, lifeless brown.

Hiccup was perched on the extreme edge of his bed, messing with the blankets a little, one hand over his mouth so he wouldn't cough on anything. When he finally managed to stop, he looked up at Gobber miserably. "Sorry, Gobber. I was coming to the forge; I just got a little sidetracked…"

Gobber crossed the room in two strides and felt the boy's forehead. "Hiccup, you're sick."

"I am not," protested Hiccup, folding his arms and glaring. For a second, he looked like the little boy Gobber missed, and the man chuckled.

"Hiccup, c'mon. You don't have to come to the forge today if you're sick."

"Which I'm not," protested Hiccup again, slightly angrier this time. "Besides…" he coughed again. "…I promised you I'd be in today. I don't break promises."

"You're not," chuckled Gobber. "I just released you from it, Hiccup."

Hiccup sighed.

"Why don't you go back to sleep?" suggested Gobber.

"I'm not sick."

"You don't have to be to sleep, Hiccup."

"Yeah, I know, but Dad only lets me sleep in when I'm sick."

"Well, you kind of are, anyway," pointed out Gobber. "C'mon, Hiccup."

Hiccup chewed his lip. "If I don't have to come to the forge today, I guess I can sleep for a little longer. But you are the one who taught me Vikings don't get sick, remember?"

Gobber laughed. He couldn't help it. The look in Hiccup's bright green eyes, the tone of his voice, it just tickled Gobber to no end.

Hiccup crossed his arms as he waited for Gobber to stop laughing.

When he did, Hiccup sighed. "When you leave, just don't tell Snotlout anything, okay? The last thing I need is for him to come around, calling me Useless because I got sick…"

"Would I tell Snotlout?" asked Gobber, looking wounded. "Also, Hiccup, what do you mean, when I leave? I'm staying here."

"What? Why?" Hiccup looked truly puzzled.

"Because your dad's gone, and you're sick!" Gobber pointed out. "You can't just be left alone! You could go out and get sicker!"

"Thor, Gobber, when did you become my mother?" interjected Hiccup, though a smile threatened at the corners of his lips.

"Lay down," Gobber advised, scowling. "Just lay down."

Hiccup lay back down, yawning a little. "I'll be fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"No, not really. I haven't been all morning."

"Well, you at least need some water," declared Gobber. "I'll go down to the well and get you some. Or maybe I'll smack Snotlout til he does it…"

"Please don't," pleaded Hiccup. "And I don't need this…"

"Yes, you do," said Gobber. "Will you be okay if I leave you alone?"

"Yes," reiterated Hiccup.

He sighed as Gobber left the room, then swallowed. His throat hurt like hell. He knew he probably should've just sucked it up and gone to the forge, because all the other Vikings on Berk could have done it, but he hadn't gotten ready fast enough. He had been pulling on his boots and knocking into things because of how tired he was when Gobber had entered and announced he was not going to the forge that day.

Gobber had always been a very laid-back type person (all Vikings were – except Hiccup, of course) and this fatherly side of the man was starting to freak Hiccup out.

But he just lay back down and thought about it, at least until Gobber's thumping footsteps alerted him to the fact that the man was back.

When Gobber got up the stairs, he was holding a small mug of water. "Here." He said, "Drink a little."

Hiccup sighed and took the mug from the man, sitting up. He drank for a few long minutes. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until just now.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Thanks."

"You might not want to drink anymore just yet," warned Gobber. "You haven't had anything to eat or drink all day and too much at one time could cause a stomachache or something."

"My stomach already hurts," Hiccup replied with a shrug, but he set the mug down.

"Go back to sleep, if you want," Gobber encouraged. "I'll be right here."

Hiccup nodded, sinking back into the pillow. "I still think it's dumb for you to blow off work just for me."

"There are a few weapons that need fixing," admitted Gobber. "But really, only two or three. And there are some I still need to make, but it'll be fine."

"Which is why you should leave," said Hiccup in a muffled voice. He had drawn the covers up over his head, an old habit from his childhood whenever he didn't feel safe. He barely noticed he did it anymore; it was force of habit. "Also, Vikings don't get sick. You don't have to stay."

"Oh, yes, I do," countered Gobber. "Hiccup, something could happen to you when you're alone. Thor knows you attract trouble like you're a little magnet for it…"

"Not my fault," Hiccup countered.

"And for Odin's sake, take the blanket off your head, Hiccup. You'll suffocate."

The blanket disappeared and a head full of fuzzy auburn hair poked out. "I'll be fine. When did you become a mother hen?"

Gobber huffed. "I'm not being a mother hen, I'm just worried…"

There was a silence.

"Do you want to hear about my hammerhead yak days?"