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“Hiccup,” Astrid says weakly, and he turns back to her. “Yeah?”
She grimaces, holding back a cough. “Look. About the– about the… cure.” Hiccup gives her a look, but she continues, “Don’t worry about it. Okay? You… you already have a lot on your plate. I’m okay.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Hiccup whispers, sitting down on her bed, placing a hand on hers. “You’re– you can’t be serious, Astrid. I’m not giving up on you, okay? Whatever happens.”
“And if I die?” Astrid retorts, staring him straight in the eyes. “What then, Hiccup? Just– just face it, it’s too late for me. Move on with your life.”
Hiccup inhales sharply. “No. No, don’t– don’t you dare say that, Astrid, I– it’s going to be okay. We’re going to find this cure.”
“Buffalords are extinct. I know you have a hero complex, or whatever, but I really don’t see how you’re gonna make this one work.”
He gives her a half-hearted grin. “I do not have a hero complex.”
Astrid snorts, even though it hurts her throat. “Sure, you don’t. It just comes naturally to you.”
“Exactly,” Hiccup replies, standing up. “Astrid, I– I have to go and sort this thing out. You stay in bed, okay?”
“Fine,” Astrid groans, her tone reluctant, but she feels so genuinely unwell she’s secretly glad to be bedridden. “I… thank you.”
“Of course,” Hiccup says quietly, and as he leaves, he mumbles something she can’t quite hear. She sits up slightly. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that–?”
He doesn’t repeat it.