Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It'd been a stupid argument.

An argument that had gone from mild griping to burning fury in the blink of an eye.

From teasing pokes to slamming doors and clenched fists.

Hiccup had no clue how the fight had started, but he wasn't entirely surprised that both of their tempers had been running hot. It'd been a rough week.

Not only had one of the Resistance's bases been raided by the Troopers, bringing a whole new wave of trouble and fear to everyone involved, but Hiccup had been enlisted to work night and day on a few extra projects with a new group they'd allied with.

While Hiccup understood that he was considered reliable in his particular (illegal) skill set, he already had so much on his plate that everyone expected him to finish, so he really didn't have the time they were demanding from him (not if he wanted to sleep and keep his sanity). 

If that wasn't enough, their new allies kept going back and forth from refusing to believe that Hiccup, as young and unimposing as he appeared, was the N1GHTR1DER who'd designed the D.R.A.G.O.N. AIs to demanding they get other specialized technology that Hiccup wasn't comfortable in handing the code or programming to.

And yet, Hiccup knew he couldn't get upset lest he ruin the already tentative alliance. Many in the Resistance expected him to just "make it work" with that "Hiccup peacemaking flair" like that was some sort of excuse to pile more on his shoulders. 

(It was enough to make him want to scream.)

Meanwhile, Jack had been doing quite a bit of 'overtime' of his own.

While Hiccup knew Jack as his best friend, the city knew him as "orphan Jackson Overland, the beloved and wealthy godson of Mayor Pitch". It was a role that required quite a bit of acting on Jack's part as he 'mingled' with the snobbish officials of the city for the sake of reconnaissance and information gathering.

Recently, Pitch and his supporters had been celebrating the passing of a bill that would only further oppress the city residents. Jack had attended over a dozen parties at Pitch's side, posing for pictures with a plastic smile and laughing like the misfortunes of the "lower-class citizens" was anything but despicable.

Of course, those were just the "frustrations" of the last week.

If Hiccup searched, he could find no end to the irritations that got underneath his skin. He knew Jack was the same.

But while Hiccup had accepted the need to push his feelings down and keep working no matter how aggravated he felt, Jack only grew more and more resentful that such things were necessary.

It often led to Jack "acting out" – ranging from harmless pranks to becoming Frost, one of the most dangerous members of the Resistance with the power to start riots with his art if he so wished.

And with the way things had been going lately, Hiccup knew that Jack was on the brink of the latter extreme. Hiccup had heard Jack and Bunny arguing about it for at least an hour before Jack had stormed off to sequester himself in Hiccup's workshop.

Which, then, had somehow led to their argument about nothing in particular – once again resulting in Jack running off.  

Hiccup knew that they weren't really mad at each other, but also believed that they both needed space to cool off. Then, maybe, when one of them was feeling less volatile, they could help the other calm down as well.

After all, being upset like this wouldn't help anything or anyone.

But it'd been a few hours since Jack had left, and Hiccup was starting to get a bit worried.

It wasn't that he thought Jack couldn't take care of himself... but Jack was also the biggest trouble magnet in existence. The Troopers also had a particular hatred for Frost and were on high alert after the incident earlier this week, so Hiccup felt justified in being worried and stopping what he was doing to start searching for him.

He felt a lot more relieved when he saw that Jack's tracking unit was still active.

Not only did it mean that Hiccup knew exactly where to locate Jack in the city, but that his best friend wasn't upset to the point of ignoring his concern.

Jack had a bad habit of deactivating his tracker when he wanted time alone or was avoiding others in the Resistance for one reason or another in spite of the fact that doing so had led to more than a few dangerous close calls.

Maybe he is actually starting to listen to me, Hiccup mused as he got his N1GHTR1DER gear ready.

A quick flight with Toothless later, Hiccup was surveying a roof on the outskirts of the city.

Standing on it was a very familiar white-haired individual. Jack must've gotten an alert that N1GHTR1DER was coming his way because he didn't bother looking towards them as they landed on the rooftop.  

After running a few scans of the area and confirming it at least appeared to be safe, Hiccup had Toothless transform back to his normal bipedal mode. The robot, having already endured listening to the two of them fight hours ago, went over to snooze near the edge of the roof.

Throughout all of this, Jack was focused on the wall before him. He threw balloons filled with red paint against the concrete, creating seemingly random and haphazard splatters that got specks of color everywhere. The wall was covered with what looked like every possible shade of red in existence, ranging from a passionate scarlet to a moody burgundy.

In the past, Hiccup had never really understood how this was art. How the "abstract paint technique" gave Jack new inspiration or insight. Honestly, he thought Jack liked the messy chaos and spontaneous fun of it.

But right now... Hiccup felt like he was seeing every frustration and discontent that existed inside Jack on display. A range of anger that Jack, no matter how upset he was, would never let anyone see the full force of.

Except like this.

Hiccup stepped forward so that he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Jack. He didn't speak – not sure what he'd say even if he tried.

But he had a feeling that Jack didn't want to talk yet either, so that was okay.

Because even if Hiccup knew he'd need to apologize for his part in their earlier fight, he suddenly felt comfortable in being angry for a little while longer.

That, at least here with Jack, it was alright to be.

Wordlessly, Jack handed Hiccup one of the paint balloons.

Hiccup took aim, and threw.

Chapter Text

"I hate him, Hiccup," Jack whispered, black-stained hands gripped at his sides as his voice trembled with rage. "I hate him."

There was no need to ask who he was talking about.

And even if Hiccup didn't already know, didn't already feel what Jack felt so clearly that they could've been his own feelings alone, the newly drying graffiti at the top of the mayor's office was a dead giveaway.

The previously pristine white building was covered in a sea of black.

A tall, haunting figure now stood above the city with a razor-sharp scythe in hand – as if it was moments from reaping its next victim. A sinister smile and merciless cold yellow eyes – the only spot of color in the whole piece – were all you could see of its face.

The being was painted in a way that made it look like it had been created from the shadows themselves. If you looked away for a moment, it would blend into the darkness – fade from your mind the way a nightmare did in the daylight hours.

But then when you looked back... it would be there.

Inescapable.

Real no matter how you tried to deny it.

Much like Mayor Pitch's influence over the city.

Hiccup knew that he probably should've talked Jack out of doing this. It was a miracle that they hadn't been immediately caught and chased by an army of Troopers the moment Jack began his work, but the idea of getting back at Pitch even in the smallest of ways after what he'd just done earlier that day... it felt vindictively worth it.

Because even if Pitch had the power to keep this mural from being plastered all over the morning news, there was no stopping the pictures that would be posted all over the internet. No stopping the way this new artwork by Frost would be on the lips and minds of everyone in the city before twenty-four hours had passed.

"I hate him," Jack repeated, tone shaking. "I hate him..."

But this time, he sounded desperate.

Helpless.

The sudden vulnerability in his voice might have come off as a surprise to someone else, but not to Hiccup. Not to someone who knew, maybe better than anyone else, the reasons why Jack, who was usually so bright that he could've been a star in the sky, had to despise the man who controlled the city from the shadows.

But that was the thing about stars, wasn't it?

Part of the reason they shone so bright was because the night sky was so dark around them.

A sea of blackness that they couldn't escape no matter how hard they tried to light up the world around them. 

"I know, Jack," Hiccup said quietly, feeling just as helpless despite the N1GHTR1DER suit protectively encasing his body. "Me too."

What else could he say?

Because no matter how much they hated Pitch, no matter how they and others acknowledged the horrible things he did, there were limits to what they could do right now.

Limits to what they should do.

As deserved as every strike against Pitch was, there would be repercussions – some sort of punishment for their inability to control their loathing. It wouldn't necessarily be Jack or Hiccup who suffered from Pitch's reaction to this, but someone – whether it be an innocent or someone from the Resistance – would pay.

Hiccup had known all this from the start, but still, he hadn't said one word to rebuke Jack.  

Hadn't even attempted to stop Jack when it was clear what he had been sneaking out to do with a case full of black spray paint and a dark, almost unrecognizable look in his eyes.

Instead, Hiccup had come along. Had Astrid cover for them so the Resistance wouldn't find out that they'd gone. And then, as Jack worked, he'd deactivated the surrounding cameras and sent a drone to distract all the nearby Troopers to another area.

Because even if it was selfish, Jack deserved a chance to express his hatred.

More than that, the city, all those who'd been harmed by Pitch and his supporters, deserved a reminder that they weren't alone in their hatred – that there would always be those who would fight against the terrible things that Pitch wanted them to accept as just being "the way of their world".

So even if it wasn't today, even if this was just a small victory... Hiccup knew that someday they would get the vindication they deserved.