Hiccup watched his father fall like a puppet with its strings cut. All the fight and denial had drained away in an instant, leaving Stoick looking utterly defeated.
"It's true," the man whispered in horror as he beheld his son's new state.
"Hiccup, you need to go." Astrid's voice cut in with urgency. "Gobber will be here soon to feed the dragons and if he finds you like this, you'll just end up trapped again. Go!"
Hiccup bobbed his head in acknowledgement, stepping towards her and resting his jaw on her shoulder for a moment. He hoped the action conveyed his feelings of gratitude for her help, and sorrow for their parting, but he had no way of knowing for sure. There were many things he had wished to say to her before this moment, but their goodbye had been cut short by his father's unexpected arrival.
She ran a hand softly over the scales of his neck before stepping back. "Go," she repeated, more softly. "While you still can. Maybe even leave Berk for a bit…go to one of those other islands you mentioned, at least until things cool down a bit here."
"No." Stoick's voice was quiet but insistent as he clumsily pushed himself to his feet.
Astrid shoved Hiccup's shoulder, trying to physically spur him into action. He took a few steps back, unfurling his wings as he prepared to take flight.
"Please," said Stoick more firmly, taking a step closer, "don't go."
Hiccup stilled, swiveling his head to face his father in surprise. Had he heard that correctly?
"Is it…is it really you, son?"
Hiccup closed his eyes, nodding in confirmation. He didn't want to see the man's reaction, but he also didn't want to leave any room for doubt. Stoick needed closure just as much as Hiccup did, and a part of him hoped that finally knowing the truth of what had befallen his son would help him find it. Perhaps one of them would finally be able to move on from their fractured lives – he'd never deny his father that chance.
He carefully extended a single claw, roughly carving out the runes for his initials in the dirt. The script was messy, but the message was legible enough.
HHH III.
Stoick let out a shuddering breath, rocking back on his heels. He still appeared untethered, as if the events of the evening had sapped away all of his strength. The chief was pale, like he was face to face with a ghost rather than his own son.
"We really don't have time for this. Please, go!" Astrid pleaded, frustration building. "I'll handle this, Hiccup."
"Time," repeated Stoick with a frown. "I–we need more time."
"Chief, if he doesn't leave now the village could find him and they'll likely try to kill him on sight." Astrid reminded, hoping her harsh reminder would get through to him. "The longer he stays here, the more vulnerable he is to an attack. If you want your son to live, you'll let him leave."
Stoick nodded sharply, processing the truth in her words. "Go," he agreed reluctantly, "but please…come back. Tonight. You said all of… this ends at sunset, right?"
Hiccup looked to Astrid, who spoke for him. "Sunset," she confirmed, "But it can't be here. Once Gobber sees the wreckage in there, this place is going to be crawling with vikings out looking for a Night Fury."
Hiccup nodded, agreeing that the danger was too great to return anywhere near the ring. He wasn't too upset about it – he'd be happy to never step foot in that place again.
Stoick turned to his son, still looking uneasy to be addressing a dragon. "You said that you missed our home," he recalled. "Meet me there tonight, I'll leave the back door unlatched."
Hiccup gave his father a long look, searching for any of the man's usual tells that would give away any trace of a lie. He was pleasantly surprised to find none. It seemed his father might actually be genuine in his intentions.
He nodded, exaggerating the gesture to make sure it was clear to the vikings. Then, he sprang into the sky, determined to put some distance between himself and the village.
Hiccup advanced towards the chief's home from behind, weaving through the trees of the bordering woods. It was a tight fit, and he had to tuck his wings snuggly against his back to avoid running into low branches.
Reaching the edge of the treeline just before dusk, he spotted a familiar silhouette leaning against an old oak.
He deliberately snapped his foot down on a twig, using the sound to get her attention. The last thing he wanted was to scare her as he approached.
Astrid turned her head, seemingly unphased by his arrival. "Hey," she said, studying him for a moment. "You look better. Get some sleep?"
He nodded, noting that she did not seem to have gotten the same level of rest. He nudged her with his nose, hoping to communicate the question he couldn't ask.
"I've been keeping an eye on your father all day," she said, looking back at the house. "I wanted to make sure you weren't walking into a trap. He hasn't really gone anywhere since I walked him back though, and I haven't seen anyone else enter. If he's planning something, I don't think anyone else is involved."
Hiccup made a low noise of acknowledgement, squinting at the windows of the house. He couldn't make out any shadows or movement, but there was a light downstairs.
The last rays of sun set, fire rippling through his veins as he shifted.
"Ugh," he groaned, rolling his neck.
Astrid looked over at him with concern. "I know you said the magic in your veins doesn't bother you, but does it hurt when you change?"
"For a minute," he admitted, not seeing the point in denying it. His entire body restructured in seconds – it would be more surprising if it didn't hurt. "The pain fades quickly, and besides, I've had plenty of time to get used to it."
The first few shifts had brought real tears to his eyes, and his bones had ached for hours afterwards. He'd been in chronic pain those early weeks, adding to the weight of his already heavy situation. Thankfully, it seemed his body had adapted to accept the shift over the years, gradually making the process much more bearable.
"Are you sure you want to do this? I still say you're better off laying low, especially with how upset Gobber is about the escape."
"He's my father," reminded Hiccup, though some fear had settled deep within his gut. "I feel like I owe him an explanation after all these years. I have to at least try."
"I'll be out here if you need a distraction," she offered. "Just yell."
"Astrid, you should really get some sleep," he pointed out, assessing the dark bags under her eyes. She looked ready to tip over at any minute. "You look dead on your feet."
She shook her head, vehemently. "I won't be able to sleep if I'm worrying about this."
"But–"
"I'll keep watch for two hours," she bargained, "if you don't signal for my help by then, I'll head home."
Sensing that arguing would get him nowhere, he simply nodded and flashed her a smile. "Thanks for having my back, Astrid," he said with sincerity, before making his way towards his old home.
Being back in the yard was like deja vu. He'd spend much of his early teens sneaking out through the back, and it was surreal to be sneaking in for a change.
Testing the door, he was relieved to find that it was unlatched as promised. He took a deep breath, pushing it open before he could overthink it.
It still had the same low squeak from his childhood.
Hiccup slipped inside, closing the door with a soft click. His eyes scanned the room, and for a moment he felt like he was fifteen again. Everything looked about the same as when he'd last stepped inside, and he could almost imagine that he'd never left. That time hadn't really passed.
Almost.
The absence of his own clutter – half-finished projects, sketchbooks and the like – served as a reminder that it was no longer his home. Any trace of him had long since disappeared.
"Hello?" He called out.
There was a quick shuffling sound, followed by heavy footfalls as his father lumbered into the room.
For a moment, they just stared at one another. It was a reunion neither had thought possible – one, believing the other to be dead and the other, believing he'd never be welcome within these walls again.
Hiccup and Stoick had never had a perfect father-son relationship, but they'd still had a sense of familiarity with one another. Now it felt like that had eroded as well, leaving the two unsure of how to interact.
"You came back," said Stoick.
"Did you think I wouldn't?" Hiccup asked, surprised. He'd been a bit flighty as a kid, but he'd always honored his promises.
Stoick cleared his throat, gesturing towards their seating area. "I had hoped you would," he said, dropping into an ornate chair. "I feared I'd dreamed the whole thing. It wouldn't be the first time I woke up believing that you were alive."
Hiccup felt a stab of guilt at that admission. He hovered for a minute, the tension in the air making him feel restless, before taking a seat across from the chief. He wrung his hands together in his lap. "Not a dream," he confirmed.
Stoick gaze fixed on his son's fidgeting hands, tracking the contrasting limbs with clear fascination.
Hiccup fought the instinct to hide them from sight, knowing there was no use in the action. His father already knew. No amount of hiding his draconic features would erase that.
"This is a lot to take in," said Stoick, shifting uncomfortably in his own chair. "What I saw today…that happens every day? You really become that dragon?"
"Yes." Hiccup said plainly. There was no use trying to soften the blow.
Stoick sagged against the chair, clearly shaken by the confirmation. It was strange to see his father looking so rattled, as he'd always appeared the very picture of viking confidence in Hiccup's youth.
"The past five years?"
"Yes," confirmed Hiccup.
"Odin's beard…" muttered the chief, shaking his head. "And you're aware of everything, when you're the beas–er, the dragon."
"Yeah," affirmed Hiccup, ignoring the man's slip. "Like I said earlier, it's still my mind when I shift."
A log in the fireplace crackled, making a loud popping sound as it burned away. Hiccup fixed his gaze on the embers, not sure he'd like what he saw if he saw his father's reaction. In a way, he felt like a kid again, awaiting his father's judgment after sharing news he knew the man wouldn't want to hear.
"And there's no way to stop it?"
Hiccup shook his head. "If there were a cure, I'd have come back. Believe me, I've looked for years…it doesn't exist. This is just my life now. It hasn't been easy, but I'm trying to make peace with that."
"Peace with it?" Stoick asked, incredulous.
"The alternative is spending the rest of my life hating my own existence," pointed out Hiccup with a heavy sigh, "Look, I can't change what I am now, but maybe I can try to find a new normal. I've spent a lot of time trying to deny what happened to me, but this last week has put a lot into perspective for me and I can't hide from the truth anymore. This is my reality…it's about time I learn to accept it."
"...I see…"
"It's been five years," rationalized Hiccup. "I think it's about time I find a way to move forward. I just…don't really know where to start."
It was quiet as Stoick contemplated that revelation. Hiccup turned his attention away from the fire to try and read his expression, but found it was undecipherable.
"I am sorry, son," said the chief, to his surprise. "That is quite a curse to bear alone."
Hiccup forced a hollow laugh, "I always did have a knack for finding trouble. If it was going to happen to anyone – figures it would be me, right? I was the worst viking Berk had ever seen. Half the village was probably glad when I was gone, anyways."
Stoick's face tightened, and Hiccup took that as confirmation. He'd never been particularly popular with the tribe, but it still stung.
He'd never been particularly welcome in Berk. That reminder made his skin crawl as fears of being seen by the villagers resurfaced. It would be best if he didn't stay long – no use tempting fate.
"I should probably go," he said quickly as he pushed himself to his feet, having kept his word. He cleared his throat, trying to keep it from shaking. "It was good to see you again, Dad. I hope this all at least explains things a bit. You know…why I left and why I have to stay away."
"Hiccup," his father stopped him, a large hand grasping his forearm. "We can figure something out, I'm sure of it. You don't have to just disappear again."
He snorted, "there's no place for me here. Not anymore."
"This is your home , son."
"Yeah?" Hiccup asked, gesturing around at the space. "What do you expect me to do? Move back into my old room and act like everything's normal? You once told me that the only way a dragon would ever enter this place is if you had the head mounted on the wall."
Stoick had meant it to be comforting when he'd said it, a bit of reassurance for his young son after a particularly brutal night of raids. It had been a father's attempt to appear strong in the wake of the disaster, promising his son that the monsters would not get him.
At the time, Hiccup had hated the grisly visual his mind conjured at the words. Now that Hiccup was the monster, the memory was like acid.
"You're not really a dragon, Hiccup."
"Yes, I am," snarled Hiccup, wrenching his arm free. "Need I remind you that I spent the last week locked inside a cage in Berk's arena? You even came to watch Astrid fight me, and you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary!"
Stoick recoiled, looking stricken.
"If I'd known–"
"What?" Yelled Hiccup, anger getting the better of him. " What would you have done? Knowing the truth doesn't change the fact that I'm a Night Fury!"
"I'd never let my own son rot in a cage," argued Stoick, whose temper was beginning to flare.
"You already did," reminded Hiccup, feeling some of the fight die out in him. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. "Look, I didn't come here to yell at you and I really don't want to leave on bad terms. I'm sorry for snapping."
"Stay," insisted Stoick, tone more level but no less passionate. "Losing you after losing your mother was agony. I cannot bear to lose you again."
"Dad, you can't be serious. Think about this rationally," he encouraged. "The sun will rise and I will change."
Stoick looked irritated at the reminder, but scratched at his chin in thought. "I suppose we'd have to keep you hidden during the day. Astrid mentioned that you usually sleep then, right? I know you meant it as a jest earlier, but why not hole up in your old room – no one ever goes up there anymore."
"I really don't think that's a good idea–"
"–I'm gone most of the day, so the house would be quiet–"
"This conversation is feeling remarkably one-sided."
"Please, son," implored Stoick. "You said that you're trying to make peace with this new life of yours…I'd like you to give me the same chance. Just try."
Seeing the earnesty in his father's eyes, Hiccup didn't have the heart to refuse.