I Didn't Mean to Hurt You, Too

A/N: Oh, look at me! Look at me, updating again! Well, tbh, I've been working on my Treasure Planet fic, Permit Me a Father Fantasy (which is nooooot as sexual as that title makes it sound, it's not sexual at all really - but if you're looking for Jim/Silver smut, I can definitely point you in the right direction) for awhile, and I have a seven-page, 3k chapter on my hands and nothing has even really happened yet, and I'm just so frustrated and I'm just like ughhh f me sideways, you know? I just want something to happen D: and then I stumbled across that one-shot I wrote awhile ago, the shameless Hiccup/Stoick one (you guys: did you mean every single story you've ever written?) wheree Hiccup was like running himself ragged for the village...it was...Just You, I think? Anyway. So I was like heyyy I really like this angst with Hiccup being in pain and whatnot. So then I wondered if I could inflict pain on Hiccup in any of my in-progress fics, and I realized I had this one. So.

Snotlout had always assumed it was simply something in his blood – it was something, he knew, that he would never quite be able to describe; there was no way to satisfactorily articulate it, but it was in his genes, in his very nature, to remain calm, to keep a cool head, to think fast under pressure. Few people knew it, but Snotlout Jorgenson wasn't the kind of person who panicked.

Put him in the middle of a raging battle and leave him there; put a sword to his throat and an axe to his back, and let him fight his way out. Put him in the skies; make it rain, make it storm around him; let lightning crackle, let clouds pour icy, stinging droplets; let the gods vent their frustration upon him, and let him fight the strong, buffeting winds. Put him on a boat with starving, predatory sea dragons circling every inch; lock him in a cell; deliver vivid, violent threats; find a tiny, deserted island in the middle of absolutely nowhere, and leave him there to fend for himself; let him face the wrath of wild dragons; let him fall from his Monstrous Nightmare mid-flight; let him grow anxious, let him exhaust himself, let him become angry, let him hurt; he could take it, he was a Viking, he was strong, he could take it.

But he couldn't, and he knew it with certainty, take this.

He couldn't take the waiting; he couldn't take the wondering; he couldn't take the half-assed plans coming to him a mile a minute, and he couldn't take the insane, impossible hope that Hiccup had gotten out somehow, that Hiccup had escaped, had found Toothless and gone tearing back to Berk as fast as the dragon could carry him, and that he might return with a rescue party in tow; and he couldn't, he really couldn't take the worrying; he couldn't take it, couldn't take the thoughts of Hiccup, the hope that he was okay and oh, Odin, what if he wasn't? He couldn't take the hope, he couldn't take the fear, he couldn't take caring about the kid, caring about his scrawny little cousin, really, he shouldn't be so worried, Hiccup could take care of himself, oh, gods, no, he couldn't, he was sick, he was hurt, he couldn't, and of course the stupid idiot was trying to be strong even when he couldn't, because this was Hiccup and he couldn't take another minute of caring like this, he couldn't take caring so damn much that it hurt.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Snotlout paused a moment by the grimy rock wall before dashing to the metal door; he had spent the entirety of the night, or so it seemed to him, simply pacing the little cell, back and forth, back and forth, boots thudding quietly in the darkness, heart jumping in his chest, questions and fears bouncing around inside his sore, tired skull.

Thump. Thump. Thu…

"Keep walking, accident!"

"I…I…"

Just the sound of the other's voice made Snotlout's heart clench within his chest; his little cousin sounded so tired, so pained, so weak and vulnerable, voice cracking like he was about to cry…

"I'm going." Hiccup's sarcastic response floated down to the other. "But you know, it's really rude to rush guests, just saying, tell Alvin his hospitality could really use some work—ow." There was no surprise or indignation in the final word – just an exhausted acceptance, a resignation.

Snotlout's blood rose to a boil in his veins – had Alvin been up there hurting his cousin? Oh, when he got his hands on that slimy, treacherous man, that miserable excuse for a Viking…

"Keep walking," the Outcast ordered, "in silence."

"Well, that's hurtful," Hiccup responded. "No conversation? Not even some small talk? We can chat about the weather, if you like."

Please shut up, please quit talking, please don't get yourself hurt…

The two came into Snotlout's view then, Outcast and boy; wrapping shaking, pale fingers around the cool metal bars serving as his door, the imprisoned Viking bellowed, "Hiccup!" He had to see his cousin; he had to know if Hiccup was okay.

"Quiet," the Outcast barked, jamming the rusted key in the lock once more.

"Yeah," Hiccup spoke to the ground, eyes downcast – but in the brief flashes he caught from the flickering torchlight, Snotlout rather thought he caught the hint of a smirk on the other's face. "Turns out this guy's not so chatty."

Why can't you just shut up, why can't you just listen to him, why do you keep trying to get him mad, he's going to hurt you and I can't watch him hurt you and do nothing, I can't, I can't take it…

"The boss," the Outcast responded, without ever looking at either prisoner, "is going to have fun breaking you."

With that, he roughly seized Hiccup by his collar and all but flung him into the cell, slamming the door shut behind the small Viking.

The redhead remained upright, mouth firm, jaw tight, until their captor had vanished up the dark, narrow staircase; the instant he had, Hiccup fell to the ground – collapsed, really, crumpling onto the cell floor with a small cry of pain.

"Hiccup!" Snotlout rushed to his cousin in alarm, kneeling at the other's side, placing a comforting hand on the skinny arm. "Are you okay?"

Slowly – so slowly, Snotlout thought, too slowly – the other lifted his auburn head and nodded; a brief yet bright flare of light threw his features into sharp relief, and Snotlout simply could not help the gasp that tumbled from his lips. Horror and shock ripped through him, and for an instant, he could only stare at the other, lips moving, forming soundless words, none actually leaving his lips.

Hiccup looked…bad, that was the only way he knew how to describe it.

One whole side of the round face was swollen and puffy, and numerous welts blazed pinkish-red on his distorted cheek; a few had already faded into nasty purple bruises, and a nasty scratch leaking a drop of blood here and there streaked across his upper lip.

"What did they do to you?" Snotlout's shaking voice was no more than a whisper; it seemed incredible to him that the rage inside him should manifest itself in this manner, should soften his tone, should lower his volume; it seemed to him he ought to be yelling, hollering, roaring with fury about the assholes who had dared treat his cousin in this way.

"I'm okay." Hiccup's voice was soft and weak – trembling. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"What did they do to you?" Snotlout repeated and here, he found, was the audible rage, the volume he'd been lacking – his voice rose, and pure menace colored his tone. "You tell me what they did, and by the gods, I swear to you, I'm going to break out of this cell and give it back to them a million times over!"

"I'm okay…" Hiccup repeated faintly; but there was something about the way he held himself, in the way he gazed at his cousin with empty and dull eyes, the tightness in his jaw and the tilt to his chin, the knit of his brows and the firming of his lips, the small voice in which he spoke, that told Snotlout he was very nearly weeping. "I'm fine," his voice dropped to a near-inaudible whisper as he spoke. "I'm okay, r-really…don't worry…it was nothing…" The redhead slumped farther down the wall, eyelids fluttering, threatening to fall.

Fury turned to fear in an instant, and Snotlout's scowl faded; he grabbed his cousin, strong fingers closing around the skinny wrist. "No, no, don't fall asleep on me, Hiccup, don't fall asleep…!"

"I'm fine," the other boy insisted, offering him a tired smile; Snotlout reckoned the effect was supposed to be calming, but it only served to twist and distort the bruised, mangled face even further. Snotlout's stomach tightened and he glanced away, feeling sick.

"I'm okay. I can handle it," Hiccup repeated; he curled up closer to the wall, pressing his swollen cheek to the rough rock as if planning to rest there. "D-don't worry 'bout me…I'm okay…" The truth was evident in his words, in his sagging posture and thick, slurred speech. "S'no big deal…s'only a bruise…don't get s-so worked up…s'okay, really…m'fine…" Out of all the exhausted, quiet murmurs he had given since arriving in the cell, when he next spoke, the words came out quite clearly. "It's okay. I can take it." His eyes fell closed, and he lost the battle against unconsciousness.

And maybe…maybe he could. But Snotlout couldn't.