Chapter Text
Fishlegs sits down next to Astrid on the porch step. He holds out the green plaid flannel Hiccup had been wearing before.
“Do you wanna give this to him,” he asks, “or should I?” She takes it and pulls it on.
“I’m cold,” she says by way of explanation. They sit in silence for a minute before she remembers the red plastic cup beside her. She can feel Fishlegs’s eyes boring into her, so she downs the drink Hiccup made her. The rum warms its way down her throat.
“How do you know so much about it?” Fish whispers. “Are you a werewolf, too?” Astrid huffs, blowing a chunk of her curtain bangs out of her face.
“No, I’m not, and I don’t,” she says, remembering the certainty she felt as she guided Hiccup. “I just… guessed, I supposed.” It feels like lying. She wishes she were certain now. She rubs her eye. “Hiccup took his keys. Can you drive me home?”
“Yeah, I just,” Fishlegs starts. “I just think he’s gonna need help.”
“Okay, we can talk on the way home.” She stands, abandoning her cup there on the porch, and Fishlegs has to jog to keep up with her when she starts toward the street robotically.
The closer Hiccup gets to the New Berk Preserve, the more he can feel the pull in his gut. It guides him through the trees, over the chain fence marking the land, and straight to the heart of the forest. As the moon rises, so too does the anger in his chest. It builds itself into a rage he’s never felt before, but he has nowhere to put it. So he keeps running for miles. Even when he hears another pair of feet fall into step behind him, and even as the footsteps grow ever closer.
His sprint is abruptly stopped when the creature slams into him, throwing him to the ground. His rage immediately finds a target, and he starts slashing until a tattooed face appears in his field of vision.
Eret.
Hiccup fights harder, getting his good foot under Eret’s torso and kicking out. Eret flies back and slams into a tree, but he gets up almost immediately as if it never happened.
“Hiccup,” he calls, “come on, I can help you.”
“Help me?” Hiccup yells. “You did this to me. And I don’t know how or why.” Eret shakes his head. He reaches to grab Hiccup’s arm, but Hiccup dodges.
“I didn’t do this to you. I couldn’t have, even if I tried.”
“Then. Who. Did,” Hiccup shouts between breaths. He falls to his knees. The pull in his gut becomes a burning, and he’s covered in enough sweat to feel like he’s been swimming. His whole body lights up in pain as if he’s been dumped in a bonfire.
“I would like to know that as well, Hiccup,” Eret says, and he starts taking slow steps toward Hiccup. He stops, turning his ear to the wind. “Run,” he says.
An arrow lodges itself into a tree above Hiccups head. A high buzz fills the air until blinding white light erupts through the darkness of the woods. Hiccup screams as his retinas burn. Something lodges itself in his arm. Eret pulls Hiccup off the ground.
“They’re already here,” Eret says, and he hauls Hiccup away.
“In the last two years,” Astrid starts, “I have found 5 dead bodies.” Fishlegs drives slowly through town. “I don’t know why, and I don’t understand how. But I know it has something to do with this place.”
“With Hiccup?” Fishlegs asks.
“Maybe.”
“So this date, is it like recon?”
“No,” Astrid snaps. “It was a date. Gods, what kind of asshole do you take me for?”
“It was just a question,” he answers.
“It was a rude one,” she huffs.
“To be fair,” Fishlegs says, “only one other person has ever dated Hiccup.” Astrid opens her mouth to ask who, but she thinks better of it just in time. Fishlegs looks embarrassed by his own words.
“The same night that Hiccup lost his leg, I was bitten by something,” she says. “It looked like a person with glowing red eyes. Whatever it was, Hiccup drew its attention away from me. Toothless alerted the searchers for both of us.”
“A werewolf,” Fishlegs breathes. “You were bitten by a werewolf. Like Hiccup.”
“But I’m not a werewolf,” Astrid insists. “Why not?”
Hiccups blood rushes through his ears. The arrow is still in his arm, the shaft broken a couple inches from the wound. He can’t stop himself from clawing at his chest with his actual, real-life claws, despite the deep, bloody gouges it leaves in his skin beneath his ruined t-shirt. The anger builds there, alongside the panic crawling up his throat. He feels empty and all too full at once. He wants Toothless.
“You’re bleeding on my leather seats,” Eret says from the driver’s seat of the Camaro. Rage rushes back into Hiccup’s brain.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Hiccup snarls, though he doesn’t know who’s controlling his voice. His hand shoots toward Eret’s face of its own accord, but Eret is faster than Hiccup could ever hope to be. A sickening snap accompanies Hiccup’s arm breaking. He hears himself scream. Eret pulls the arrowhead out of Hiccup’s skin.
“You’ll be fine!” Eret snaps. “You’re already healing.” He doesn’t let go of Hiccup’s arm until the bone and skin knit back together, but it takes only seconds. Hiccup yanks his arm back, cradling it delicately. His brain feels clearer than it has all night, but he can feel the fog creep back in front of his thoughts. The car screeches to a halt in front of the derelict Berk County train depot.
“What are we doing here?” Hiccup demands, a growl forming deep in his chest. “Who were they?” Before he realizes what is happening, Eret is out of the car and dragging Hiccup with him into the depot. As soon as Eret throws Hiccup to the dust-caked floor, Hiccup is back up to slash at his throat, but he catches Hiccup’s hand. Eret twists the hand and uses the momentum to shove Hiccup to the floor again.
“You need to get control of yourself,” Eret says, and he pushes Hiccup’s arm harder against his back. It should be painful given the broken bone from only moments before, but the only thing Hiccup can feel is the unbridled fury clawing its way out of his skin and the cool, gritty marble beneath his face.
“I don’t know how,” Hiccup admits. It sounds like a threat when it comes out. He follows it with a futile attempt to break out of Eret’s iron grip.
“Find an anchor,” Eret says, “find something—or someone—to ground you. To hold you to your humanity.”
Hiccup pushes against Eret. He tries the get his free arm underneath his body, but Eret just grinds Hiccup's face harder in the dust. "What do you want from me?" Hiccup asks. Eret doesn't answer, just growls in a way Hiccup can feel through his whole body. A memory comes to Hiccup’s mind unbidden.
”It’s a coyote trap,” Hiccup’s dad said, gesturing to the metal jaws ripping into a rake handle. “They’re illegal, but people try to get away with them.”
“Why are they illegal?” Hiccup asked. His dad smiled at him, as if he asked the right question. Hiccup felt pride bloom in his chest.
“They’re cruel, Hiccup,” his dad said. “Inhumane. They trap the animal’s leg, leaving it either to starve to death or to wait for the hunter to come put it out of its misery.” Hiccup felt tears spring into his eyes at that, but his dad took his hands and guided them to the trap.
“One hand on each side,” he said, his hands resting over Hiccup’s. “Push the levers as close to the jaws as possible. It’ll give you more leverage. Deep breath. Put all your weight into it.”
Hiccup sucked in all the air he could and pushed, angling his body over the trap. Nothing happened.
“Don’t worry,” his dad said. When he pushed on the levers, they opened easily. “You’ll grow bigger and stronger. Someday this will be easy for you.”
Hiccup can feel his face change. His teeth shrink. The hair on his cheeks pulls back under his skin. The bones that had changed his brow and nose rearrange back into their usual place.
Don’t worry, his dad had said. You’ll grow bigger and stronger. Someday this will all be easy for you.
Hiccup knew then and knows now that his father had been speaking of things like pushing, pulling, running, and lifting, but it still sent a wave of calm through the rage in his chest.
“I got it,” Hiccup says, and his voice is shaking, but calm. “I got it.” Eret releases him. Hiccup rolls himself gingerly, taking in his surroundings as he sits up. The rusty train car in the middle is half on the tracks. The grand columns and marble floors hint at art deco designs, but as is usual in Berk County, the high pointed peaks give a Scandinavian edge to the perfect arcs. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust and grime.
“I really don’t feel good,” Hiccup says pathetically, and he feels bile rising to his throat.
“I know, okay,” Eret says, slowly approaching again. “I’ve been where you are. Let me help you.”
"But you want something from me," Hiccup responds. His voice sounds worn out. "Otherwise you wouldn't have followed me out there."
"You'll find out." Eret is terse. "Focus on your anchor."
“Thanks, Fishlegs,” Astrid says as he pulls into her driveway. “Text me if you hear from Hiccup.”
“No problem,” he answers. “And, uh, same.” He looks at her with a question in his face.
“What?” she asks.
“Are we gonna do this?” His fingers tap on the steering wheel.
“Do what?”
“Become sidekicks to a Teen Wolf?”
“I am not a sidekick,” Astrid huffs. “Are you?” Fishlegs blinks.
“I don’t know.”
“Friend doesn’t equal sidekick,” Astrid says, and she gets out of the car. “We can aspire to more.” She shuts the door behind her and steels herself for the barrage of questions from her parents.