feels like we’re going home

July 2019

From the second he wakes up, a beam of sunlight across his face, the smell of summer seeping through the faintly open window, Hiccup can tell it’s going to be a good day. And not just the vaguely tolerable good, where he’s not on the verge of a breakdown, no - a good , good day. One full of sunshine, and air that puts more life into his lungs than it takes.

In fact, the goodness is almost unexpected. He doesn’t have anything planned for today. Does he...?

The beach trip- of course!

He kicks off the duvet, and sleepily begins to attach his prosthetic. His fingers are almost done with rolling the sleeve on, when a sleek, dark head nuzzles his hands.

“Mornin’ bud.” Hiccup scratches Toothless under the chin, chuckling at the vibration of Toothless’s contented purrs under his fingers. “Looking forward to today?” He asks as he carefully eases his leg into the prosthetic’s socket. Toothless blinks, yowling, as if to say ‘yes!’

“Thought you would be.” Inching his way along the bed towards the windowsill, he carefully stands, checking his prosthetic is comfortable enough to walk around in. And, well, he’ll be doing a lot of walking today. Dagur swore he can park within a mile of the beach they’re visiting, but Hiccup doesn’t want the day - which is already shaping up to be so beautiful - to be ruined if his leg decides not to cooperate.

Although, his leg isn’t the only thing that can ruin his day. The biggest worry - the one he can hear brewing coffee downstairs - is Stoick Vard Haddock. His father.

It’s warm enough to stay in pyjamas, but Hiccup wears a dressing gown anyway. He’s hungry; it’s half past seven already.

Hiccup walks down the stairs, easing his face into his ‘pleasant’ smile. His dad’s suspicious of anything too happy, and any negative emotion he picks up on, real or imagined, will just fuel the very unsteady fire. So he chases the exuberant grin off his lips and keeps his face neutral.

When he goes into the kitchen, his dad is sitting with two mugs of coffee on the table. “Morning, son.”

Hiccup can tell instantly- he’s calm, for now. In fact, he was surprisingly on board with Hiccup being out of the house for twenty-four hours.

But Hiccup still can’t shake that stepping-on-glass feeling as he thanks his dad for the coffee, and sips it slowly.

He clears his throat. “Dagur’s picking you up at eight?”

Hiccup nods meekly. “Good,” Stoick says. “I’ve got meetings back to back.”

That explains the coffee, Hiccup thinks - but he wouldn’t dare tell Stoick that.

“I’ll be back by ten in the morning tomorrow,” Hiccup assures him. Stoick nods gruffly, returning to his mug of coffee. Hiccup tries to drink it at the same speed as him; conversations between them are awkward at best, and the last thing Hiccup wants is this perfect day ruined by being locked inside for all of it.

“Right.” Stoick gets up, and leaves his mug on the table. Hiccup waits ten seconds before he leaves too. Stoick has offered him coffee - which is a lot more than usual. And Hiccup won’t- no , he can’t ask for anything more.

That’s fine. Knowing Dagur, he’ll probably have a wealth of snacks stockpiled in the car. Plus he’s buying them all lunch. And Dagur never likes seeing any of them go hungry.

As per Dagur’s instructions, Hiccup puts his swimming trunks on, smears himself in suncream, and then puts his binder and denim shorts on. Dagur would never make any of them do anything, but Hiccup tends to do what other people tell him. 

Plus it’s the easiest way to do things. That way he doesn’t have to put more layers of suncream on, or worry about changing at the beach. There might not even be toilets, which worries him, because he really loves swimming with his friends.

Although, it’s all a big if he can stomach it today. He can’t help but worry about what they’ll say about his gaunt, gangly frame, his sickly pale skin, the stump scar on his leg they haven’t ever actually seen. Not to mention the scars...

Distracting himself, he pulls out three possible outfits to wear, and goes through them. Option one is pretty, but a bit too girly, and he’s already worrying about comments from strangers. Option two is clingy, and shows too much of his skin; he’d be too cold (at least, that’s what he tells himself). Option three isn’t sensory safe - actually, he doesn’t even know why he has that horrible shirt. His dad probably gave it to him, and he’s too afraid to throw it away.

He then decides none of them are good, chucks on a T-Shirt with a dragon and some viking runes, and zips his comfort black hoodie on over the top. His dad has never been too fond of that shirt.

Shaking his head, as if to deny the feeling, he takes a long, deep breath. The smell of suncream and morning air fills his nose. It’s beautiful... but it still doesn’t feel perfectly like summer. What is he missing?

His eyes catch the sunglasses and baseball cap on his desk. Perfect . He jams the cap on his head, and slides the sunglasses over his eyes. To confirm, he looks at himself in the mirror, and an indescribable feeling of rightness clicks into place. He looks like a boy going to the beach with his friends, down to the shine of sun cream on his skin. None of the emotional baggage he carries can be seen in his megawatt grin.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he goes downstairs, and clips Toothless into his cat leash. It takes a while to convince Toothless - with a lot of treats - that the leash is not deadly, and there is no need to swipe and hiss at it, but it is finally done.

And then, he waits. He checks his phone (full battery, because he would never be that careless). 7:49. A whole eleven minutes early.

A message pops up on his screen.

Heather: hey hiccup, the van needs more gas than we thought, so we’ll be two minutes late, so sorry <3 

Perfect. He can already feel today unravelling. He’s eleven - now ten - minutes early, with nothing to do, and he should probably brush his teeth - but what if he’s left it too late, and lunch tastes disgusting? What if Dagur’s packed them breakfast to eat in the car? What if-

His phone pings again. It’s probably Heather to add another two minutes, trapping him in his house that isn’t a home, and-

Astrid: send help, dagur is driving ten miles above the speed limit

Within seconds, another message.

Astrid: he just swerved to avoid hitting a cat and we almost crashed into the lamppost with the republican flag

His heartbeat spikes. There’s a lamppost on the adjacent block with that flag. He would know. Astrid once climbed the pole and burned the flag as a dare.

Astrid: anyway eta 2 minutes, ignore heather. i’ll see you soon! xx

Hiccup doesn’t smile with his mouth, he doesn’t have the energy for that. But he can feel his soul smiling. And that’s enough for him.

Hiccup: thanks! see you soon :) xxx

“ Ahem. ” His dad clears his throat, which surprises Hiccup. He’s not normally that polite. Hiccup instantly puts his phone down, and looks at him.

“I, uh... have a good day. Don’t drink, obviously. Don’t do drugs.”

“Okay dad. I won’t,” Hiccup says earnestly. Dagur wouldn’t let them; he’s barely legally allowed to drink himself. Plus, he can have a good time without drinking.

Unlike you , he tacks onto the end. And then he feels horrible, because it’s clear his dad is trying to be nice to him. Maybe summer just has that effect on him like it does on everyone.

Stoick opens his mouth to reply, but before he can speak, Hiccup’s phone buzzes.

He freezes. If it were to happen anywhere, it’s now. There is nothing his dad hates more than being interrupted, being disregarded, being made to feel insignificant. That may be the one thing they have in common.

So Hiccup doesn’t touch his phone, tries to keep his smile wobbling on his face, and waits for the inevitable.

But it doesn’t come. Stoick nods vaguely to Hiccup’s phone and says “you should probably check that.”

Relieved, he does, and it’s a text from Astrid declaring ‘WE’RE HERE!!!!!!!!’

Stoick raises his eyebrows, and Hiccup says “they’re here to pick me up now.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, and looks out of the window to confirm. “You’d best get going. Don’t want that ugly truck cluttering my driveway.”

“Okay dad.” Hiccup grabs his bag, Toothless’s leash, and opens the door.

His dad waves goodbye, the tiniest hint of sadness in his eyes. “Be back home soon. Son.”

Hiccup nods, smiling his pleasant smile as he waves goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuts the door with a gentle ‘click’ , and takes in the sight of Dagur’s van. It’s mud-splattered, covered in patches of chipped paint, and two surfboards are (probably illegally) strapped to the top of the car.

But, oh boy does it feel like home.

The exuberant grin he’s been biting down all morning breaks onto his face at full force.

The window rolls down, and a tanned face wearing sunglasses pops out. “Get in, loser, we’re going to the beach!”

“Coming, Heather!”

Hiccup tugs the straps of his rucksack over his shoulders, and walks towards the open door, where his friends are waiting for him.

.o0o.

“Dagur, do we have to have your playlist?” Snotlout groans, as Madness’s Driving in my car comes onto the stereo.

“Well, I'm driving, and I get aux cord privileges, Snot-hat. Now shush up, or I'm leaving you at a gas station.”

It's just a tiny comment, but it makes Hiccup's blood freeze, and he subconsciously presses himself closer to Astrid on his right. Dagur wouldn't do that to any of them. Never never never.

But his mind tries to tug him back to Snotlout's twelfth birthday party, and slamming doors, and gravel in his knees.

“Hey, this song is good ,” Astrid argues.

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah, it's great,” Hiccup adds. He listens closer, and realises it's moved onto Alright , by Supergrass. And it sounds like it's ending. Did he really spend two songs' length panicking?

“Finally, someone appreciates my taste!” Dagur exasperatedly throws both his hands up. “This is the problem with-”

Suddenly, he swerves into the next lane, and the van practically rocks onto its side. Everyone screams. Hiccup feels the blood rush out of his body for a moment. In what feels like an eternity, the van steadies, and Dagur mutters a stream of curse words under his breath.

“Sorry about that.”

“The van was on two wheels , Dagur,” Heather says. “For three whole seconds .”

“Well we're alive,” Dagur says cheerfully. “You all good back there?” He leans towards the back, but Heather firmly shoves his head back towards the road.

“We're good!” Astrid says. Fishlegs - on the right of their row - confirms. The twins and Snotlout are sitting in the furthest row back giggling about something on Tuffnut’s phone.

Before Hiccup can not so politely ask if he can see it too, California Girls comes onto the car stereo, and everyone groans.

“Dagur,” Heather says. “Your taste in music is awful .”

“You’re not supposed to like what your parents listen to,” he reminds her.

“Yeah, well, a) you’re not technically my parent, and b) this is ass no matter what year you come from.”

She reaches to unplug the aux cord, but Dagur nudges her arm away. “How about this? We finish this song, then if you don’t like the next one, we’ll change it. Sound fair?”

Heather nods, slumping back in her seat. Tuffnut starts bobbing his head to the music, and Heather flips him the finger in the rearview mirror.

Astrid winds the window down, and Hiccup’s eyes drift to the countryside. It’s captivating- the wind whipping past them creates a welcome coolness in his hair. He takes his cap off, smiling as Toothless climbs onto his lap to watch the world go past alongside him in streaks of blue, green, brown and grey.

“Sure is somethin’, bud,” Hiccup whispers in the little cat’s ear. He meows intelligently, determinedly rubbing Hiccup's chin with his cheek, and there is a glorious moment where Hiccup loves his beloved cat more than anything.

“Oh-ohh-oh-oh, oh-ohh-oh-oh,” the stereo begins, and the beat is so uplifting Hiccup can’t stop his foot from tapping. Astrid meets his eyes; they are alive with happiness.

“Take one look at us and you’ll see we belong together.”

“Oh yes! ” Snotlout exclaims. “I like this song!”

“Got to be a part of a team, ready for whatever.”

Dagur chuckles to himself. Hiccup catches his eye in the rearview mirror, and quickly looks away. Whatever Dagur’s tricking them into, he doesn't want a part of it.

“On and on we’re here to stay, let’s keep it going strong.”

“Wait for it...” Dagur says.

“The greatest day never goes away, make it last forever, put it on replay.”

Hiccup takes a moment to wonder where on earth Dagur finds music he likes. Hiccup himself just stumbles across an artist and immediately falls in love or loses interest. Then he’ll stream everything by that artist for a few months until he finds another.

Astrid holds his hand as they jam along to the song, dancing as much as the cramped space in the car allows, and every second is euphoria , rushing through Hiccup like a drug - no, better than that. He doesn’t have to think about what it’ll be like to come down. He doesn’t have to think about how tomorrow won’t be as sparkling bright, because today alone could light up his whole summer.

He breathes... in, and out... 

And he is so alive.

Finally, it ends, and the group relaxes back into their seats, taking a unanimous sigh.

“Where’s that song from, Dagur?” Snotlout asks.

He chuckles to himself. “If I tell you, it’ll ruin the song.”

“Aww,” Ruffnut groans.

“No fair! Tell us!” Tuffnut says. “Tell us! Tell us!” He starts the chant, encouraging the others to join.

“Tell us! Tell us! Tell us! Tell us-”

“It's from Barbie and her sisters in the great puppy adventure - you happy?” Dagur shouts over everyone else.

Everyone falls silent. The twins bite their lips to stop from laughing. Astrid looks disgusted. Fishlegs looks dazed. There is not a word in any language to articulate the volume of horror on Snotlout's face.

Hiccup isn't sure what to think. The sheer cheesiness of the title puts him off - but, then again, it was a really good song.

“I'm gonna kill you,” Heather says, breaking the silence, “for making me enjoy something associated with that franchise.”

“It's not the actual franchise, it's just the spin off where Barbie has three sisters - Stacie, Skipper, and Chelsea. They exist across lots of universes in different contexts - for example, there's a universe when they're all mermaids, one where they're all ballerinas, and so on.”

“Oh, so like AU? In fanfic?” Hiccup asks.

“Yeah.”

“Isn't it crazy that - by creating an alternate reality - it places them in a separate universe,” says Fishlegs, “and they have no idea there's a completely different version of each other.”

“Maybe you're in an alternate universe, and there’s a different version of you out there,” Dagur says ominously, “and none of you have any idea.”

Heather glares at him. “Dare I ask how you know all that?”

“Well, Heather, I am a man of many mysteries,” he boasts. “One of which being how I distracted you all with my terrible music taste so no one would ask if we’re nearly there yet. However...”

Their eyes are drawn, irresistibly, to the windows.

“ Woah... ” several say at once.

It’s beautiful . The sky paints the background a wash of blue that wasn’t done justice by the cloudy, mud-splattered glass windows of the van. There’s only the slightest scraps of clouds along the skyline, and the sun shines through them, lighting them up in layers of white, gold and silver.

They all spill out, grabbing their bags, Tuffnut stumbles into Hiccup's lap, there's a rush of bodies, and-

Astrid squeezes his hand. “You okay?”

Hiccup looks outside, the thrill of it all tempting as anything. “Yeah. I'm okay.”

Together, they step outside, and are immediately bathed in the warmest, purest light.

Hiccup might be standing in dollar store clothes, outside a van close to going too rusty to use, but the world is gold, and silver, and he can’t buy friends like his with money. Hiccup has never felt richer in his life.

“Just above here.” Dagur is already standing on the sand dunes, beckoning them. They all practically fall over themselves, a mess of rucksacks and flip flops, and shoving elbows, until-

The beach is there, laid out in a picturesque sweep of soft, cream sand and deep blue ocean so perfect it seems like another world.

“It's... beautiful,” Heather says softly.

The group all look at each other, beaming, and - in miraculously perfect unison - take a step onto the beach.

The sun finally comes out from behind the clouds.

.o0o.

Dagur claps his hands, standing over the heap of bags in a pile. “Okay, now we’ve got a spot to keep our stuff, I really think that-”

“BEACH TIME!” Snotlout screams, kicking off his sandals, his shirt, and making straight for the ocean.

“BEACH TIME!” Ruffnut and Tuffnut echo, doing the same and rushing to join their best friend by the edge of the ocean.

Dagur looks at the remaining teens, then back at all their luggage. “So. You helping me set up?”

“Sorry, no can do.” Hiccup looks around, and sees that Astrid is already whipping off her skirt to reveal her swimming costume underneath- baby blue matching perfectly with her brown skin. Very privately, he thinks that she looks gorgeous. “Snotlout and I agreed on a race out to the buoy and back, and he already has a head start, and I am not losing to him.” She crosses her arms, and Dagur dismisses her with a wave of his hand.

“I’ll help,” Fishlegs offers, and he and Heather begin to set up the tent.

Hiccup watches Astrid sprint away, his eyes all but begging don’t go , hoping that she’ll turn around and stay beside him on the strange, uncomfortable sand. His leg wobbles. He doesn’t dare move from the spot, afraid he’ll trip and fall, and humiliate himself on this miraculously perfect day.

“You okay Hiccup?” Dagur turns to him, throwing a beach towel up by one end to smooth it across the sand.

“Huh? Oh, yeah- yeah, I’m fine.”

“Do me a favour, and sit on my towel so it doesn’t blow, will you?” Dagur says. He stands near Hiccup, close enough to catch him, but not close enough to overwhelm him, as he makes his way onto the towel. It’s a fire-truck red that clashes horribly with both Dagur’s and Hiccup’s hair. Still though, Hiccup lies down, and cautiously unzips his hoodie so the lovely shirt is visible.

Breathe in... and out...

Hiccup shuts his eyes, letting the sun fall on his face. It’s lovely and warming, without stifling him. After all, it’s rare he gets to go to the beach; even rare he gets to enjoy it completely stress free. The beach, the sun on his face. The beach, the ease in his body. The beach, just him, and Toothless purring on his chest, and-

“Yo, Fishlegs! Can you help me set up the windbreak?” Dagur calls.

“I’ll do it!” Hiccup exclaims, scrambling to get off the towel without kicking sand on it. Toothless yowls at the disruption, and stalks alongside him.

Briefly stopping, Hiccup picks him up, cradling him with both arms like a baby. He doesn’t want both of them to have to deal with the treacherous horror that is walking on sand with one less lower limb.

“Woah, woah, woah, I never said I needed you to move,” Dagur says.

“But I’m just sitting there doing nothing.”

Dagur grins. “Exactly.”

“But I don’t want to be-”

“Trust me, you’re helping me plenty. You can stay there, keep an eye on Toothless, and you’re avoiding future sand related incidents. Win-win!” Dagur beams.

Hiccup suddenly feels horribly choked up. He cuddles Toothless closer, as if to leech the warmth and happiness associated with him, and ducks his head. He can feel his cheeks prickling with shame, spreading red. He’s been in the sun for less than five minutes, and he might already be a bit sunburned, and-

“Heather, Fishlegs? Take over putting up the windbreak, will you?”

Hiccup braces himself. This is it. Just when he thought he would be safe here - and he left his bag on Dagur’s towel, and he’s running on last night’s dinner he threw up most of, and he has no money - he has no money, why did he forget-

Dagur - a twenty two year old ex gang member with arms strong enough to easily break his bones, a rough, scarred, scowling teenager Hiccup was a little afraid of at first - steps forward, and hugs him.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle. “I want you to enjoy this, okay? Heather loves you and the rest of your friends, and I love that she loves you all. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her since I met her. And I know that’s not a long time, but she looks so much brighter from being friends with you lot. You do too. I’ve noticed.”

Dagur finally breaks away, gives him a pat on the shoulder, and returns to the tent. He calls over his shoulder, “Toothless can chill in the tent. Meatlug and Windshear won’t be any trouble, and I’ll be here the whole time.”

Hiccup nods, carefully sitting back down on the towel. “Thanks.”

Finally at peace, he opens his bag, pulls out a book, and begins to read.

“You do too. I’ve noticed.”

Is it really that obvious? Is what Ruffnut calls the aura around his soul brighter when he’s with his friends? It would make sense, wouldn’t it? It’s not like he’s ever happy to be around his father; he hasn’t been since he was old enough to betray his instincts and think those treasonous thoughts. But with his friends, there’s a certain kind of magic in the air, a relaxing touch that settles him. And that makes him do things he wouldn’t, like let his guard down and being honest.

His eyes return to the page, where he realises his eyes have looked at the words of the first paragraph, but he hasn’t read them. Sighing, he snaps it shut to reveal the sight of Astrid, beaming, her hair plastered to her shoulders.

Hiccup yelps, jostling the book off his lap.

“Hiccup, I won!” Astrid’s eyes are bright with thrill. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

He looks up at her, shielding his eyes from the sun. She stands, triumphant, a polite distance from him, dripping wet.

“Well done, I’m really happy for you!” He grins. “And I’m fine.”

“Thanks.” She wrings her hair out, and drops of seawater drip onto the sand and clumps into dark sludge. “Do you want to join me?”

“Oh- oh.” Right. He didn’t think about his leg. He can’t swim in it. What if he loses it? What if he breaks it? What if it gets rusty with seawater? His dad could pay for a replacement but he wouldn’t be happy to, and Hiccup needs his prosthetic. “I can’t, I’m sorry, I don’t know how to-”

“It’s fine, I’ll carry you in,” Astrid says in a voice as casual as commenting on the weather, like such a burden means nothing to her.

“And my shirt-”

“You can keep it on,” Astrid says - again, casually, and Hiccup fears for a moment that she’s become desensitised to all his troubles. That he’s manipulating his friends, keeping them wrapped around his little finger where they can deal with his everyday bullshit at his beck and call. “However you’re comfortable.”

“Oh- okay.” Hiccup sits upright, and carefully takes off his jacket. He can almost feel Astrid’s eyes crawling over his skin, like the sand that’s already stuck to him.

“Did you put suncream on your back?” She asks.

“No, do I need to?”

“You might. And it’s best not to risk it with skin like yours.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t have your incredible not-sunburning abilities.” Hiccup pretends to laugh.

“You forget I’m literally not white sometimes, Hiccup.” Astrid gives him a look of false contempt.

“Yeah, there’s white, and then there’s actual paper or ghost coloured white .” He gestures to his almost comically pale skin.

“Chill, Hiccup, you’re not a ghost.” She laughs - a musical laugh. “Besides, the sun brings out your freckles.”

With that, she steps away, towards her bag behind the windbreaks, and Hiccup wonders for a brief moment if she’s cross with him. But then she comes back with a bottle of factor 50 in her hand.

“If I put my hands under your shirt, is that okay?” She asks.

Hesitantly, he thinks about it. Then he nods.

“Okay.” Astrid squirts some suncream onto her hands, rubs it between them, and gently lifts the hem of his top. “I’m just going to start on your lower back, and go up.”

Her touch is steady and gentle, even over his scars, and she talks to him all the way through, which he appreciates so much he isn’t sure what to do- should he thank her? Promise to return the favour, if he ever could? He can barely help himself, let alone other people.

“You ready?” Astrid asks, and Hiccup vaguely realises she’s been talking and he wasn’t listening.

“Sorry! Sorry. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“You’re keeping your leg on?”

He looks down, noting the presence of his leg, and immediately feels stupid. What is wrong with him?

“I’m not.” He ducks his head, and starts detaching his leg, carefully dislodging the prosthetic, and-

“ Hiccup. ” Astrid’s hand is gently tilting his head up, and she ducks down too, her eyes looking softly at his. “Look, you can do whatever makes you feel comfortable, and I mean whatever , but don’t-” she sighs. “Don’t avoid the people around you who love and care about you - don’t avoid me - just... just because you think we aren’t willing to love and care about you. Okay? Because we do .”

Hiccup nods. His voice is soft as he whispers “okay.”

Astrid gives him a warm smile. “That’s more like it. Now.” She happily rubs her hands together. “Let's go swimming.”

Hiccup can feel people staring at him, hanging onto Astrid’s neck as she walks leisurely down to the sea front. But their stares are just a tingling, not like the abrasive stabbing he’s used to. Being carried - actually lifted in someone else’s arms - feels a little bit incredible, and when Astrid jumps over a puddle of seawater, he actually screams.

“It’s okay, I won’t drop you.” Astrid laughs, skidding to a halt on the wet sand.

“No, it’s a good feeling,” says Hiccup, looking out to sea. “A very good feeling.”

“Okay then.” Astrid carefully readjusts her grip. “Shall we go in?”

Hiccup expected her to rush in, but she’s slow and careful, even though Hiccup won’t touch the water’s surface for at least further twenty paces forward. The smell of the sea is more potent than from on the beach. Hiccup glances at it as the colourful tent and windbreaks shrink further and further with every step...

He looks down and realises Astrid is thigh deep in the water. Any further and he'll go in too.

He didn’t actually think about what he would do once he got out there.

“Hey, can you, uh- maybe if you lower me in?”

“Okay.” She bends her knees. “I'll just go very...”

He rockets into the air. For a harrowing moment, there's only him, and the clear blue sky. He’s weightless. In freefall. He’s going to fall-

“Gotcha!”

“Astrid...” Hiccup breathes, his voice shaking. All the blood rushes into his body, and back out.

“Are you- are you okay?” She checks, looking down at him. He squints at her silhouette, sunlit like an actual goddess, and finds the sudden movement didn’t faze him as much as it would.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I know you’d never let me fall.”

“Not without warning you.”

This time, Hiccup gets a full three seconds before Astrid takes three deep strides further into the water, and falls flat on her back, taking Hiccup with her.

The ocean closes around him, a rush of water in his ears, and then Astrid is yanking him out again, holding him with both her hands so he doesn’t fall, and it’s all moving so quickly , he can’t help but laugh.

“You’re, uh... you’re okay, right?” Astrid asks him, a little baffled.

“Yeah! Of course. I’m great.” Hiccup grins - a genuine grin - and Astrid pulls him into her arms. She’s dripping water, obviously, but so is he, and it’s maybe okay, because-

Her arms are so soft and warm around him, all the might in the world contained in her steady grip, and he knows Astrid Herrera-Sosa would never in her life let him drown.

And that feeling of being so loved, so cared for, is enough to make him tip his head up to the sky and laugh.

.o0o.

Thirty minutes later, the group emerges from the sea, dripping wet and panting, and begins the long trek up the sloping shoreline.

“I never noticed...” Snotlout pants, “how steep the beach was.”

“That’s because you were going downhill on the way down,” Ruffnut points out.

“Downhill was-” Astrid stops to take several deep breaths “-much easier.”

Guilt pangs through Hiccup. If he wasn’t so heavy, wasn’t such a nuisance... maybe he should skip fish and chips. Even though it’s not his fault he can’t walk without his prosthetic. But he’s missing half his left leg from an accident that was admittedly his fault.

He’s quiet as the rest of the gang moves onto talking animatedly about the jellyfish they found in the water, quiet as Astrid helps him lie down on the towel, quiet as he dries himself off and reattaches his leg.

It’s a truly beautiful day, but he doesn’t feel like speaking. The laughter that sprung so easily from his chest when he was in the ocean, trying and failing to bodyboard on the twins’s surfboard, is gone. All that’s left is a humbling sense of sadness that his wonderful day is ruined by a drop of a hat comment.

And it’s lunchtime soon already.

When they get back to their spot, Dagur is holding Windshear on a leash, pacing back and forth. His eyes light up when he sees them.

“There you are! I was waiting for you to show up.”

“The beach is long , Dagur,” Heather whines tiredly. “And I spent all my energy.”

“Good thing you lot can have a sit-down while I get the fish and chips.”

Snotlout, Fishlegs, Heather and the twins visibly brighten at the mention of food. Hiccup’s stomach churns.

“I’ll pay, of course, but let me know what you want.” Dagur hands out a few menus, and the gang open them, their eyes hungry and searching.

Astrid flops onto her towel, keeping Hiccup on her lap, and spreads her menu out. “Okay... there’s the cod, haddock, scampi... ooh, tempura prawns sound good!”

Hiccup forces a grin brighter than his natural smile. “Sounds great!”

“I think I’ll get the small cod and chips- or we can split a large?”

“Actually, that sounds perfect!” Hiccup lights up - genuinely, this time - and his mouth waters. Food - a bit of food that he can share with Astrid, without staring disappointedly at the remains he can’t stomach - doesn’t sound as daunting.

They place their orders, and Heather and Dagur disappear to drive to the fish and chips place nearby.

“Bye, guys!” Heather waves cheerfully. Somehow, her cheeks and shoulders are already touched by the sun, colouring her light brown skin darker.

“Bye!” Hiccup waves back.

“Enjoy Dagur’s music,” Snotlout calls, and Heather flips him off, sticking her tongue out, but she can’t keep the smile off her face.

Hiccup lays back down on Astrid’s lap, and shuts his eyes. His eyelids glow orange against the glare of the sun.

It seems like no time at all (or maybe he fell asleep, he isn’t sure) that Heather and Dagur return, their arms full of plastic bags.

“Dinner... is served!” Dagur announces, handing out the cardboard containers. They all exclaim in delight at the smell of the food, delight turning to discomfort as the hot food burns through the cardboard under their hands. Hiccup spreads a towel over his and Astrid’s legs, then folds it in half, deciding the container is still too hot to touch.

Heather begins handing out sachets of ketchup. Handing out, being a synonym of throwing .

Hiccup yelps as one hits him in the head, and he reflexively bats it away. Heather chuckles behind him. “It’s just ketchup, doofus.”

“Ever heard of passing things , Heather?” Astrid says, a touch too snarkily to be wholly sarcastic.

“Funnily enough, I haven’t,” Heather shoots back. “Do enlighten me.”

Astrid grins to herself, a gesture so subtle only Hiccup notices. She pierces the edge of the ketchup with her thumbnail, and comes closer. “It’s really quite easy. You just take the item, and pass it to the other person. Like... this. ”

Heather yelps as ketchup globs down her face. Her mouth freezes open in a shocked 'O'.

“That’s for hitting my boyfriend.”

Heather splutters in disbelief. “You almost pushed me into a moving bus, Astrid, I think this pales by comparison.”

“Heather did remind me a bit of Regina George when we first met,” Tufnut says to no one in particular.

“Fine. You have one chance today to hit me back,” Astrid says. “Be crafty about it, and you have to genuinely surprise me. I challenge you.”

Heather’s determined grin matches Astrid’s perfectly as she says “challenge accepted.”

Hiccup watches it all happen, a half-smile on his face. Only half, because Astrid and Heather loathed each other once, and he doesn’t want to go back to those weeks where he was stuck between them.

With his eyes off his and Astrid’s plate, he doesn’t notice a gull swooping towards him.

The seagull dives for his lap, snapping up a mouthful of chips, and he shrieks.

The gang are rocketed into commotion at once, they scream and swipe, flailing towels and freaking out. Hiccup’s arms shield his head. Astrid holds him close, panic-yelling “it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Then, the screaming stops. The gull flaps away with a disgruntled squawk.

Finally, Hiccup dares to look.

Snotlout stands, panting, one hand outstretched. Hiccup notices he has one flip flop in his hand.

“Holy...” Astrid breathes.

“What happened?”

“I just- I threw my shoe at it, and it worked. ” Snotlout gives a disbelieving chuckle.

“That was some move, Geōrgios.” Dagur gives Snotlout a look of approval, and he beams. “When did you-”

Dagur is rudely cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. Groaning, he swipes it open.

“What is it and why is it more important than this?”He demands, stepping away. “No, you can’t page me, I’m two hours away from the damn hospital! The only pages I want are those of a thrilling murder mystery novel, thank you very much.” A pause. “ No , I can’t just come back , I’m supervising my sister and six other teenagers - three of which have a talent for getting injured - so my medical knowledge is being put to its best use, thank you very much. Now I suggest you go-”

Then Dagur tells the receiver to do something that makes the twins giggle, and hangs up. He shoves his phone back into his pocket, walking back to the group.

“Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Heather asks.

“Just my bitchy boss, trying to get me to cover more shifts than I’m allocated.”

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Fishlegs asks worriedly.

He shrugs. “Eh. It’s the summer and I’m graduating in two weeks anyway.” He takes a big bite of battered fish. “They can’t stop me from graduating when I’ve done everything the course says.”

“What does the course cover?” Fishlegs asks.

Dagur chuckles. “Well, it covers basic medical information, like administering an IV drip, sutures, stuff like that. What it doesn’t cover, however, is the absolute bullshit you encounter on a daily basis.”

“Oh! Tell them about the patient who swallowed barbie doll heads!” Heather says eagerly, and as Dagur tells the story, acting everything out, Hiccup laughs until his sides hurt.

.o0o.

Hiccup lies on his stomach, Fishlegs next to him, Toothless curled on his back, and reads. This particular book is about birds of prey, and it’s surprisingly absorbing; he only stops for Dagur to nag him about regular applications of suncream.

“The sun is hot as hell today, and I’m not being responsible for you idiots getting melanomas,” he insists.

The sea air holds a hint of salt that lingers in his drying mouth, and he takes frequent sips of cool water. It’s more hydration than he usually has, anyway.

“Hiccup- look! ” Fishlegs rolls from his back onto his side, and shows him a picture of a plant from his book with tiny, white flowers on thin, green stalks. They are ephemeral, puffed up like a cloud. The word that comes to mind is delicate.

“Gypsophila paniculata,” Fishlegs says, pronouncing it easily. “It’s also known as baby’s breath.”

“Cool.” Hiccup nods. “I can see that.” He looks at the puffy, white flowers on the page.

“They’re my favourites.” Fishlegs’s mouth splits into a wide grin, his hands balled into fists. He rubs his feet against each other - cricket feet, he calls them. His favourite happy stim.

“My favourite’s sunflowers,” Hiccup says, without really meaning to, and he immediately stops himself. Who even asked for his opinion?

“Uh- what does baby’s breath symbolise?” Hiccup points back to the book.

“Well, according to this, it symbolises everlasting love.”

“It’s so small though,” Hiccup says, glad the twins aren’t there to say ‘that’s what she said’ or something immature. “How can such a small flower symbolise something so... huge?”

Fishlegs shrugs. “How can such tiny atoms build everything? How can lumps of matter in our skulls the size of two fists control the human race?” And he goes back to reading, just like that.

Hiccup’s never been philosophical, but it’s weird to think about. Fishlegs has a way with asking the questions that make the group all shut up and think for a moment. It’s kind of cool, those quiet moments... especially when it’s Hiccup bringing up something that makes them all laugh. When he says something funny, and they all splutter into laughter... it’s the purest feeling. He wishes he could live in it.

He recalls what Astrid said a few months ago. “We care what you have to say too.” And how she live texted about The Office, ranting about how Michael Scott is actually the most annoying person since Snotlout, and how Dwight is terrible autism representation, and she complains in the humorous way of hers until Hiccup’s sides hurt from laughing, but it’s- it’s love. It’s how she shows love.

With a grin, he turns back to his book. Maybe Astrid would be interested in birds of prey too.

.o0o.

The day rolls on, and Hiccup couldn’t be happier. He hasn’t thought about his dad, or what he has to go home to, for hours now. All that matters is Astrid, and their friends, and their eternal warmth. He could bask in it forever.

And he does. The lemonade ice lolly (again, Dagur’s treat) drips down his chin and fingers, and it’s kind of sticky and gross (he’ll need to rinse that off soon) but it’s all good.

“-and Hiccup said he once played Iron Maiden as he went to church, ” Astrid says, laughing. “An actual, very Christian, church.”

All his friends turn to him, a mixture of disbelief and humour, laughing.

“Hiccup, you do make us laugh.” Snotlout ruffles his head, his other hand holding an Oreo ice cream cone Hiccup contemplated getting. But his stomach felt too full and swirly for rich food. Besides, his lemonade lolly is refreshing.

“Aw, thanks, you guys.”

“Hey, at least it wasn’t Ghost, ” Tuffnut says, his dramatic arm movements coming dangerously close to squeezing his Fruit Pastilles lolly out of its cardboard container. Hiccup hasn’t heard of that band before, but he makes a mental note to listen to it; he always tries to get into what his friends like to listen to.

“Do you ever listen to anything but emo indie music?” Snotlout raises an eyebrow at him, and Tuffnut dumps half his ice lolly down his shirt. Snotlout squeals - actually squeals - and writhes around like Mayfair in the reaping when Lucy Gray dropped a snake down her back. Astrid hands Hiccup her mint chocolate ice cream, and reaches her arm down his shirt.

“ GEROFF! ” Snotlout swipes at her.

“I’m trying to help you.” Astrid looks very much like she wants to kick him.

“Get off! ”

“Will you just-”

Snotlout lurches around, dragging Astrid - her arm still in his T Shirt - with her, and they both slip and fall, Snotlout’s face buried in the sand.

Astrid spits out a few grains of sand. “This is the last time I will ever help you, Geōrgios, I swear. ”

As they struggle, swearing and kicking sand at each other, Hiccup and the others laugh until their cheeks ache.

.o0o.

The ice creams and ice lollies eaten, Hiccup helps Astrid, Snotlout and Fishlegs string up the volleyball nets. He doesn’t know where the twins are, but he thinks he saw them run off to the rockpools or something.

He listens to Snotlout and Astrid grumble at each other without a trace of malice behind it. Toothless wanders by in the hopes of helping, but causes more trouble when he gets his feet caught in the netting and Hiccup has to help unlatch him and return him to the shady tent behind the windbreak.

Though it takes a while, the nets are up, and the group are ready to begin their first match.

Astrid gently spikes the ball towards him, Tuffnut, Fishlegs and Snotlout, and he instinctively flinches away. Snotlout swats at it, and it barely skims back over the net.

“Come on, you guys!” Ruffnut whines. “I thought men were supposed to be the superior gender, or something.”

“I thought you didn’t-” Snotlout sends the ball back towards them “-support the patriarchy.”

“We don’t.” Heather slams the volleyball so hard it ricochets into the sand. “I just think it’s impressive you’re keeping your fragile, masculine ego of yours in check, Snotlout.”

Snotlout grumbles, his face going red. Tuffnut mumbles “tomato” under his breath, and everyone else pretends not to have heard, stifling their giggles into their hands.

“Okay, next round. Hiccup, your serve.” She tosses the ball to him, and he reaches for it- and misses.

Sheepishly, he picks it up, turning it over in his hands. Can I really do this? Astrid’s looking at him with such a look of unwavering belief in him, his team are waiting for him, and-

“Just like in school, yeah?” Tuffnut’s quiet voice is on his left, almost behind him. It feels a bit godly. “Remember, all your weight goes into the ball.”

He places it in his palm, launches it, slaps his hand down on the ball, and it soars right to where Heather is waiting to send it back.

“ Yes! ” He victory pumps the air. “I did it!”

“Hell yes you did!” Astrid grins, equally as exuberant.

Hiccup beams at her, her face divided up by the white lines of the net, and for one moment, everything is right with the world.

Then Astrid’s smile turns to a smirk, and she scores.

“Wow, flirting to distract me? Really?” Hiccup puts both hands on his hips.

“Sorry, babe. Volleyball rules.” She blows a kiss, and Hiccup’s face turns bright red. Snotlout whispers ‘tomato’ in his ear.

Astrid’s team scores again. And again. And again.

.o0o.

“Ughhh, do we have to go?” Ruffnut complains.

“Yes, you do,” Dagur says, his lips pressed firmly together. “That is the sixth time you’ve asked.”

“But-”

“No buts. It is getting late, I hate traffic, and you are leaving if I have to manually drag you.”

Hiccup knows Dagur might just make good on that promise. Today was great, but it’s clear he’s exhausted. They could all do with a very good night’s sleep tonight.

He files into the car along with the others, getting in last so he can be between Astrid and the window seat. While Dagur wrangles two very disobedient twins away from the rockpools, he checks his bag over: everything he came with, plus a seashell Tuffnut pressed into his hand as they were packing up. Toothless, of course, is on his lap.

“Aww, are you sure we can’t stay just a little bit more?” Ruffnut’s voice drifts through the open window.

Dagur opens the door, and ushers the twins into the back. “I am sure. Definitely squefinitely a thousand percent sure. It’s time to go home now. But. ” Dagur pauses, clicking his seatbelt in. “We can stop at a park to eat tea in.”

Everyone cheers - except Hiccup. Predictably. Instead, panic jolts through him. Was he supposed to bring a packed tea? His dad wouldn’t have given him one anyway, and it’s going to be so humiliating watching everyone eat while he just. Sits there.

Astrid nudges him. “I didn’t bring anything. I forgot to.”

Fishlegs raises the same question, and Dagur shrugs. “Don’t worry. I’ve bought sandwiches.”

“He was up at five am spreading butter and cheese spread for you all,” Heather says- light in tone, but her words are still heavy on Hiccup’s heard. “So say thank you.”

“Thank you, mom.” They all chorus, some sarcastic, some - like Hiccup and Fishlegs - genuine.

Dagur rolls his eyes over-exaggeratedly, sighing, and mumbling something about “you just take a few strays to the beach, and suddenly you're a parent of seven, I mean, what?”

Hiccup leans back into Astrid’s shoulder. He’ll be okay.

They spend ten minutes finding a park. Then, they spend another ten frustratedly finding free parking close enough. (“I am not giving capitalism more money so I can leave my car somewhere,” Dagur insists.) But they finally get there, and the others race - slightly slower than the morning - out of the car.

“Oh, this is the life.” Dagur says, flapping a picnic blanket over the grass. “Reminds me of the good old days.”

“You are seven years older than us, Dagur,” Heather says, unpacking sandwiches.

“Well, a lot is culturally different.”

“What, like scene kids?” Heather says, giving him a look. Hiccup stifles a laugh.

“No! We did stuff like going outdoors-”

“What do you call this, Dagur? IRL gaming?”

“-we played sports! Tennis, soccer, rounders-”

“What’s that?”

Dagur actually drops the bottle of water he was holding. “Heather, please tell me you’re joking.” When she shakes her head, he throws his hands in the air. “Kids these days... don’t even know rounders...”

“Teach us, then,” Heather deadpans.

Dagur’s face lights up like a lightbulb. “KIDS!” He screams across the field. “GET OVER HERE, WE’RE PLAYING ROUNDERS!”

“WHAT’S THAT?” Someone, probably Snotlout, yells from the top of the climbing frame.

“COME DOWN HERE AND I’LL EXPLAIN!”

Once they have all returned to the picnic blanket, Hiccup watches Dagur switch from Reluctant Parent mode to Stern Coach mode in a heartbeat.

“Rounders is like cricket, only better, because there aren’t any stupid, unnecessary scoring rules.” Fishlegs opens his mouth to protest, but Dagur raises his hand to shush him. Hiccup vaguely remembers Fishlegs getting really into cricket for a few months recently.

“Okay, split yourselves in half.”

“We call Hiccup!” Ruffnut shouts, grabbing him by the wrist. It takes Hiccup a moment to process what they just said. They... want him on their team?

“Um... sure!”

“ Yeah! ” Tuffnut gives him an affectionate ‘man hug’ as he calls it. “Now, bring on the game!”

They all listen patiently as Dagur explains the rules: how to score, how to bat, how to field. He allocates Hiccup's group to bat first, and Astrid’s team (her, Snotlout and Fishlegs) to field first. Hiccup winds up going first.

Then, he approaches Hiccup and says: “since this is your first go, I'd like to support you physically a little bit. I'll just hold your hand and shoulder, do I have your consent?”

Hiccup stutters a little. No one but the others have really asked that outright. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He nods. “That's, um. That's fine.”

Dagur gently puts his left hand on Hiccup's, holding the bat with him, and the other on his shoulder.

“I'll help direct you a bit, but I can't do it for you, okay?” Dagur's voice comes, soft and soothing in his ear. “Give it a go. You can do this.”

“I can do this,” he repeats.

Heather tosses the ball towards them, Hiccup takes a swing-

And misses by a foot.

“No ball, wide,” Dagur calls. “Throw again.”

Ruffnut, being backstop until it's her go, throws the ball back.

Heather goes again, and Hiccup misses.

“Hey, you can run! That was a good ball,” Dagur shouts in his ear. Startled, Hiccup runs towards first base.

“Yes, Hiccup!” Tuffnut yells. He and Ruffnut cheer as he sprints past first posr, second post coming closer and closer...

He doesn't realise he's been stumped out until Dagur calls his name. He skids to a stop, and looks around.

Snotlout hurls the ball back to Heather, mumbling a “sorry, cuz.”

“It's okay.” Hiccup forces a smile. “It's just a game.”

He hands Ruff the bat, and goes to sit next to Tuffnut, as close as he can do without being at risk of a broken nose by ball.

“That was crap.”

“Yeah, so? It's your first go.”

“Yes!” Ruffnut shouts as she sends the ball flying, before sprinting towards first post.

“I'm just not sporty.”

“Yeah, and Ruffnut learned rounders technique off a YouTube video when we were seven, so what, dude?” Tuffnut says, and goes back to concentrating on the game.

“Okay.” Hiccup twirls a blade of grass between his fingers. He had a bad turn- so what? He'll live. He can go again.

And he does.

This time, he scores half a rounder.

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” Dagur says after each team has batted twice. “You need fuel to replace all the energy you’ve used.”

“Okay, mom, ” half of them say, and this time, Dagur doesn’t even correct them, shepherding them towards the rug.

They all get settled, Hiccup squished between Tuffnut and Snotlout. As Dagur digs in the picnic cooler for their food, he watches Tuffnut pick up a handful of grass, rubbing it between his fingers.

His eyes light up (Hiccup can almost hear the cartoonish lightbulb noise above his head), and he balls the grass into a handful and tosses it at Ruffut.

As predicted, it flops. Very lightweight grass works like that, Hiccup wants to tell him.

Ruffnut gives him a scathing look. “Ha ha.” She picks up her own ball, and dumps it right down his top.

“Hey!” Tuffnut retaliates with his own wad of grass, and soon everyone is yelling and giggling - Dagur throwing himself in front of the picnic cooler like his life depends on it - dry grass flying everywhere like a mid-summer snowstorm.

Hiccup gets in on the action, grabbing his own fistfuls and hurling them at Astrid. “ That’s for kicking our asses in sports. Twice. ”

She laughs, the same bright, musical laugh Hiccup first fell in love with, and tosses grass back at him.

Eventually, Dagur sees sense and puts a stop to their chaos. Only slightly begrudgingly, they settle down on the rug. Dagur distributes the sandwiches, giving everyone a package wrapped in foil.

Astrid scooches closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso, and he leans into her. They unwrap their sandwiches together. Astrid has cheese and pickle. Hiccup has plain cheese. His safe sandwich food.

He grins, and takes a bite. Slightly stale sandwiches have never tasted so good.

.o0o.

The sun sets, and Hiccup is so tired, he barely remembers piling into the car. He barely remembers falling asleep on Astrid’s shoulder as Dagur’s summer evening indie rock/pop playlist hums through the car. He barely remembers the drive back at all, only the soft, reassuring pressure of Toothless on his lap, and songs that sound yellow. He barely remembers pulling up, Dagur ushering them all out of the car like an affectionately tough mother hen. He barely remembers Heather dragging them by the wrists through the kitchen, and proudly flinging open the back door.

“Ta-daa!”

And his tiredness fades.

The bonfire in the grate is neatly arranged, a lighter and fluid underneath. Heather pushes past them, darting into the kitchen, and reappears with marshmallows and cocktail sticks.

This, Hiccup thinks with a smile, is how you end a day.

Five minutes later, he and his friends are all lit up by the firelight, airbrushed into shades of orange and yellow. He’s curled up on a cushion, all but sitting on Astrid’s lap, eating the caramelised crust off marshmallows bite by bite. Tuffnut is picking melted marshmallow out of his hair (courtesy of Ruffnut), flicking it into the bush.

Heather excuses herself, and disappears for a moment. Hiccup stares after her, wondering if he’s done something to upset ehr in any way. But he didn’t say anything to her- maybe that’s the problem? Maybe she feels ignored, and he should probably say something. Yes, he definitely should-

She reappears, her guitar slung over her shoulder, loose papers spilling out of her arms. “Now I’m just learning, but I know a few songs...”

The smile returns to Hiccup’s face.

“Okay.” Heather grins eagerly, propping her elbows on the guitar. “What first? I’ve got... Complicated by Avril Lavigne; Perfect by Ed Sheeran; Sweet Home Alabama- ”

“ NO! ” About half of them chorus at once.

“Okay, sheesh...” Heather shuffles through a few papers. “How does You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift-”

“ YES! ” Snotlout screams. Everyone looks at him. A red flush spreads across his face, and he hunches back in on himself. “She’s... good, okay?”

“Aw, our boy’s a swiftie! ” Ruffnut excitedly buries Snotlout in a headlock, ruffling his hair.

“They grow up so fast.” Tuffnut presses a hand to his chest, pretending to cry.

Heather tunes up her guitar, air strumming a few chords, before she nods. “Ready when you guys are.” They all shut up, swallow their marshmallows, and grin.

“Perfect. I’ll lead you in.”

Heather plays the opening chords, violet and dusk-sky blue in Hiccup’s mind, and her honey-rich voice comes in soon after.

“You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset

She's going off about something that you said

'Cause she doesn't get your humour like I do.”

They all begin to sing along, finding the melody in their throats. Snotlout - not really surprisingly - knows the whole song by heart. Ruffnut and Tuffnut pretend to make fun of him, but Hiccup can tell, by the glints in their eyes, they’re having a good time.

“I’m in my room, it’s a typical Tuesday night,

I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like,

And she’ll never know your story like I do.”

And Hiccup doesn’t even remember learning this song, but he knows Astrid often hums it under her breath when she thinks no one else can hear her. Hiccup doesn’t even remember falling in love with her, he just knew it. Like the songs he’s known since he was young, not yet old enough to remember learning. Just knowing.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts

She's Cheer Captain and I'm on the bleachers

Dreaming 'bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.”

Hiccup silently apologises to Dagur and Heather’s neighbours, before they all start belting the chorus at the tops of their lungs.

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you

Been here all along, so why can't you see?”

And he’s not even singing anymore, just looking at Astrid. She turns back around to see him, and-

“You belong with me.”

He takes her hand in his, and kisses her.

.o0o.

Hiccup’s lost track of time when Dagur - in his pyjamas already - opens the back door and clears his throat.

“Children. You’ve gotta sleep now.” He’s cut off by a very loud yawn that reminds Hiccup of a lion. “It’s past eleven pm.”

Everyone groans. “Come on! ” Snotlout throws his hands in the air.

“But we’re not even tired! ” Ruffnut says, making pity eyes.

“Don’t care. You’re sleeping. Now. ” Dagur gives his best ‘angry’ face, which, unfortunately, sends them all bursting into laughter.

“Dagur, you look like a tomato!” Heather clutches her sides.

“I could kill every one of you and make it look like an accident,” he deadpans, and ignores the twins’ pleas to tell them how to do it. Hiccup does not need to deal with a felony. “Now c’mon. You’re going to bed.”

Grumbling, more tired than actually angry, the gang get up, and head for Heather’s room.

When he steps inside, shoving past the others to see, Hiccup’s mouth falls slightly open. He knows Heather’s bedroom to be what he calls an ‘organised mess’ - quite like his own - cluttered with piles of books, her guitar lying outside its case, pots of gel and curl cream with the lids half-off.

But, while they were sitting by the fire, Dagur transformed it entirely. The piles are gone, replaced with clean, empty surfaces waiting for rucksacks to be left for the night. Sleeping bags lie arranged across the floor, each with a signed name card.

The card on the bed, signed with a slightly terrifying cartoon smiley face, reads: Hiccup.

“Heather I- I can't take your bed ,” Hiccup splutters at once.

She shrugs. “Sure you can. I sleep there every other night, and Toothless can lie up there with you. Windshear likes it better on the floor anyway.”

“I’d be fine with a sleeping bag, I really would-”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable. You know... with your leg, and stuff.” Heather sheepishly looks away, and a twinge of guilt shoots through Hiccup.

“Okay. That’s fine- no, thank you, ” he gets out. Heather smiles warmly. “Now come on, guys! Teeth brushing party!”

A teeth brushing party, Hiccup later finds out, is where everyone brushes their teeth at once. Which is odd, considering the times he remembers or has the energy to brush his teeth are always by himself. But when they all need to spit everyone shoves to get to the sink, and it’s kind of gross, but in a funny way.

They take it in turns to get changed, coming back one at a time from the bathroom in pyjamas. And before Hiccup knows it, it’s time for bed. The day is over.

Heather switches the fan on, and it starts whirring quietly.

Dagur knocks on the door. “May I come in?”

“No,” Snotlout and the twins yell. Heather rolls her eyes, and drags herself across the floor, still in her sleeping bag, to open the door. “They mean yes.”

“You all ready for bed?” He asks.

“Yes, mom, ” Ruffnut says, snickering to her twin.

Dagur rolls his eyes. “Well then. Goodnight. Sleep well. I’m across the hall if you need me.”

“Goodnight,” they all echo.

The door shuts, and they manage several seconds of total silence before Tuffnut says: “so. Seagulls.”

Ruffnut starts uncontrollably giggling, which - of course - sets off the rest of them. It’s not funny at all, hardly a joke, but Hiccup laughs so hard his legs curl, and tears of mirth spring into his eyes.

Heather tries to shush them all after a few minutes, but her lips split into laughter every time she tries, which makes them all laugh harder.

“Guys, I’m serious! ” Heather says, stifling giggles into her pillow. “Dagur will actually tell us off.”

“Aw, but he’s such a softie. ” Ruffnut throws her pillow at Heather, which she somehow manages to hit her with. Heather tucked the pillow under her arm, and curled around it.

“Well if you’re gonna be like that...” Hiccup could almost hear her grinning her famous, wicked grin. Then, there was the soft sound of footsteps picking their way around the room, an “ OW! ” from Snotlout, followed by a “sorry. Jeez.” until Heather suddenly erupts into a volcano of laughter.

“ Ah! - Ruff, that tickles! ”

“Then gimme my pillow!”

“But I’m so comfy .”

“You know what, Heather, you are comfy,” Ruffnut says, bombarding her with another round of tickling. “So I think I’ll sleep here tonight.”

She promptly stops, flinging her plait over her shoulder, and sprawling across Heather’s lap.

“Your foot is in my face,” grumbles Snotlout.

“That’s your problem, buddy,” Ruffnut says cheerily.

“You’re being loud, ” Fishlegs interjects.

Snotlout groans. “We’re not gonna get to sleep tonight, are we?”

“Nope,” Astrid says.

“Not a chance,” Tuffnut adds.

“Well, if that’s the case...” Heather unzips her sleeping bag, stands, much to Ruffnut’s complaining, and carefully tiptoes around the bodies across her room. Hiccup can’t quite see what she’s doing, and he’s too tired to look.

“Close your eyes,” she says. Uneasy - but only by a little bit - Hiccup does so, waiting for whatever Heather has planned for them. His eyelids light up the orange glow he knows means there’s light behind them. Heather taps on her phone a few times, and indie music begins playing. The quality is terrible, but the melody is warm and bright, gentle bass buzzing in Hiccup’s ears.

“Okay. Now you can look.”

“Oh, wow .” The words are snatched from Hiccup’s mouth, an enthralled reflection of the beauty around him. Where there was once the cracks of dusky sky coming through the curtains as the only light, there is now a brilliant illumination of the warmest glow Hiccup has ever seen. The fairy lights have a magical effect on the room, bathing everything in a softer hue than the harsh daylight Hiccup was shrouded by all day.

Today was fun, but so tiring. As much as he loves the thrill of it all, it’s good to be calm, to unwind and help his body and mind rest.

Judging by the wonder in everyone else’s eyes, they are thinking the same. He could be in a movie scene.

“I love you guys,” Snotlout says randomly. “You’re, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“For real?” Ruffnut says, half joking.

“Yeah.” His voice is soft. “Real. Real as anything. Today was amazing . And even though Astrid kicked my ass at volleyball-”

“-Not my fault you can’t spike,” Astrid interjects.

“-I enjoyed every second. Well, except when the seagulls tried to eat our lunch, but that’s not important.” The room laughs softly, a bright, bubbling sound that rubs Hiccup’s brain in just the right spot to lower the rest of his guard down fully, to file the callouses from around his heart, and finally - finally - lets himself be honest.

“I wanna be friends forever. I wanna go to high school and university together.” From his peripheral vision, he can see everyone else turning to look at him. “I want to live my whole life with you guys. You- you’re amazing . I couldn’t ask for better friends. I love you all.”

Heather ‘aww’s, and Astrid teasingly pokes him on the shoulder. “Where did all that come from?”

He sits upright and shrugs. “I guess I just needed to say how much I love you guys too.”

And he does , he really does. Looking at his friends - Ruffnut sprawled across Heather’s lap, Snotlout curled in a small ball in the corner, Tuffnut’s legs propped against the closet, Fishlegs practically asleep with his head on the desk chair, Astrid lying so close beside him their shoulders could touch, all softly illuminated by the fairy lights - he couldn’t understand how he ever found life so hideous.

He can’t blame himself, though. His life hasn’t given him many reasons to find it never endingly beautiful. Neither has his dad. But he’s just something to endure; something to survive, fuelled with the energy that comes from every kind smile, every gentle touch of his family.

That doesn’t mean he can forgive him for the damage he did - and still does - to him; in fact, Hiccup loathes him. He would be better off dead so Hiccup can finally have a chance at peace. A villainous, wicked part of Hiccup tells him that he deserves it, just for making his life less beautiful.

But, the one good thing it does is illuminate the good moments all the more. The excitement on Heather’s face when he opened the front door and saw her face sticking out of the car. Dagur holding him and promising it will get better. Reading beside Fishlegs, enjoying each other’s silence. Astrid giggling and teasing him as she pretended to throw him into the sea. Snotlout angrily throwing his shoe at a seagull that tried to take Hiccup’s lunch. The twins cheering him on at rounders, even though he was terrible. Every other joyful moment lit up like stars in the darkness.

He holds onto those stars with all his might, but a part of him is almost afraid when they’ll leave, inevitably shadowed over by the all-consuming darkness that leaches into his soul. He dreads the anticipation of those moments becoming memories.

But - for now - Hiccup can’t imagine feeling more peaceful. Tomorrow, when it properly starts, when they all wake up sleepy-eyed and sun-tanned, when they stumble around to pack up their bags, is all another day.

Hiccup is perfectly content to live in this moment.