Chapter Text
Scraaaape!
His knife drags across his plate, cutting into the juices of Hiccup’s yak chops. It’s not as good as Heather’s (he wouldn’t dare say that to him!) but it’s nice. It’s lovely, actually.
Only the sweet, soft meat turns gross and chewy in his throat as he watches everyone else eat it like nothing’s wrong. Like- like nothing happened.
It’s been a full day since he was captured. It’s unbelievable that something so dramatic happened between twenty four hours. Even more unbelievable that not a single rider even noticed he was gone.
And they- they all have the audacity to act like it’s normal! Fishlegs and Astrid make small talk, the twins bicker, and Hiccup doodles in his notebook. With the dragons sitting all around them, munching through fish, it’s a remarkably beautiful evening.
Well, of course, except for him- his scowl, his angry scraping of the plate, his sour temper. He’s an ink blot on their perfect piece of paper. It’s no wonder they didn’t notice he was gone.
Maybe they wouldn’t miss him.
He’s walking out of the clubhouse before he realises, the sound of his plate smashing on the wood still ringing in his ears.
“Snotlout! Wait!” Someone cries - Fishlegs, probably. He whips his head around to find out.
Yep. It's him.
Snotlout's muscles twitch several times to pull him one way or another, then he makes up his mind, and storms off, towards the stables. He hopes Hookfang follows him, because he can't cope with any of the riders right now.
“Snotlout!” Fishlegs pants, chasing after him. “If you just tell me- us what's wrong, I-”
He stops, and lets out a hysterical bark of laughter.
Unbelievable.
“Wait, waitwaitwait- you really haven't worked it out yet?”
“What do you mean? Worked out what?” Fishlegs stammers, his face flushed.
“Is it something with Hookfang?” Hiccup asks gently. Snotlout notices all the riders are now behind him and Fishlegs, their faces curious. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“No, actually,” he practically spits. “My dragon is fine. It's something with all of you.”
“What did we do?” Hiccup asks, raising his voice.
“You really want to ask me that?” Snotlout snaps. His heart thrums in his throat. A tiny, childish part of him asks: am I really doing this?
But a much larger, overwhelming part of him screams: they deserve it.
“You know when I went missing all of yesterday evening? And didn’t come back?”
Fishlegs’s, Astrid’s and Hiccup’s eyes all begin to widen, slowly piecing it together.
“The dragon hunters captured me,” he says, his heart sinking. “They were going to use me as bait, but- but you weren’t even there...”
“Oh, Snotlout,” Fishlegs breathes softly. “We’re so-”
“Save it,” he snaps. “I don’t want to be around you guys.”
“O- okay,” he says, and backs off.
Snotlout leaps onto Hookfang’s back, and flies away to his hut, where the riders won’t follow him.
.o0o.
“I mean, it’s not my fault, right Hooky?” He says, hours later, as he paces his hut’s bedroom. “They were the ones who didn’t come for me. They should be asking for my forgiveness, right?”
Hookfang gives him an unimpressed look.
“Oh don’t give me that.” Snotlout flicks Hookfang on the snout with his finger. “Let's remember who fills your bowl.”
For that, Hookfang smacks him with his tail.
“OW!” Snotlout lands, very messily, on his bed.
“Are you okay?” A voice comes from downstairs.
Snotlout flips to his feet in an instant. “Who’s that?”
“It’s- it’s Fishlegs. I, uh... We have something for you.”
UGH. Snotlout groans to himself. He really can’t deal with everyone else right now.
“Shall we, um... we’ll leave it here, okay?” Fishlegs says, and there’s the soft sound of receding footsteps and Hiccup’s metal leg on wood.
The door squeaks open, and - just as they’re about to leave - Snotlout cries out “wait.”
He can almost see them freezing, slowly turning back around.
“Yeah?” A voice says that sounds like Hiccup.
“You can...” he pauses, for the world’s longest second. “You can come in.”
Five pairs of footsteps meet his ears, jogging up the stairs. Then, five heads slowly enter the room, a spectrum of concern to guilt.
Fishlegs gently hands him a flower, one Snotlout vaguely recognises from Fishlegs’s garden. He takes it, placing it by his pillow.
Snotlout can’t bear to look at any of them.
“Hey, look... Snotlout.” Fishlegs was the first to speak. “We should’ve noticed you were gone, and we didn’t. We’re so sorry.”
He waits, bracing for the inevitable slew of it wasn’t our fault, how could we have known? coming from his teammates’ mouths.
When it doesn’t come, he blinks, confused.
“So you’re not going to tell me why I’m wrong and you guys are right?”
“Of course not,” Hiccup says, unexpectedly softly. “You’re right, Snotlout. We should’ve noticed something was up with you yesterday.”
He nods grimly. “That would’ve been appreciated.”
“Hey- how about, next time, you come and tell us if you’re upset,” offers Hiccup.
Snotlout nods. “That’s do-able.” A smile slowly, but surely, beams over his face. “You’re still not forgiven, though.”
“Fair enough,” Hiccup chuckles.
Snotlout bids them goodbye, and goes back to pacing his room, letting the brief conversation wash over him.
I’ll be alright, he repeats to himself. Every time he does, his eyes drift to the flower Fishlegs gave him. It’s yellow, but he can’t remember the name.
And when he goes to dinner, greeted with smiles and a plate of food, he believes it more and more.
I’ll be alright.
And he is.