Chapter Text
As he opens the door the smell of lingering bleach and wet dog come in a wave; both indicative of things Hiccup’s intern shift would probably be filled with today, that or more check ups on a confusing number of Doodles (seriously, did every person in berk own a poodle or something?).
Adorning his light blue scrubs and throwing everything else into the locker assigned ‘Haddock’, he begins his shift with the swipe of a card.
…
A Philippine eagle.. How in the world did he get a Philippine eagle?
“The man has been apprehended and is now waiting for his trial. This clinic will become the caretakers of the confiscated animals while we work on finding permanent places for them, with monetary compensation from the Wildlife Justice Commission. Does anybody have any further questions?” Stoick announced using his ‘I am the Police Chief and you will listen to me’ voice, something that could usually overpower anything in the room but it was still hard to follow over the mad screeching of a blanket-clad bird Hiccup’s fellow intern was desperately trying to soothe. No matter the soft blankets, dark spaces or treats presented to the thing, the young eagle refused to stop acting like he’d just been set on fire and the poor girl holding him looked almost close to tears.
“I don’t think so. Thank you, Chief.” Replied Hiccup's favourite mentor, voice much louder than anything he would usually hear from the polite woman.
“Well, if nobody requires any more assistance, I need to file a report.” Stoick doesn’t write the reports, Gobber does.. or whoever’s taken over Gobbers old position does, at least. Though, it’s not like anybody other than Hiccup could recognise the lie for what it is; a way out of this headache-inducing room. Stoick walks to the door, almost too eager to leave, knocking Hiccup’s shoulder in the process.
“Hi … dad” Hiccup says, voice small and unsure like it used to be whenever they talked. They’ve made up now, Hiccup has to remind himself, there’s no need for this feeling anymore.
“Hiccup, my boy!“ Stoick's eyes brighten as his chiefly persona fades, extending one arm to pull his son into his side and ruffle his hair.
“Dad-” Hiccup shoves at the mountain of a man holding him until Stoick relents his hold and lets him step back to regain a semblance of professionalism. “-I’m at work.”
“Ah yes, of course, sorry lad.” Stoick stiffens again and coughs. “Good luck with that bird. He’s screaming more than you did when you were a wee one.”
Once Stoick leaves the building, every single vet tech in the building magically has a myriad of tasks to complete that require their help outside of this one room. Hiccup’s intern friend is supposed to go on break now, so the screaming bird is dumped into his arms.
Well.. shit.
…
“Where’s Hiccup?”
Today was the weekly Wednesday study session, an annual occurrence organised by Fishlegs that, while intended for mentorship and group work, often devolved into fighting (usually started by the twins) or movie marathons (also usually started by the twins). Heather was here too today, actually having enough time off from training to talk to her friends for more than half an hour.
Hiccup never misses these, not when they’re an excuse to sit next to Astrid for three hours straight, but today his chair of choice is decidedly empty.
The group turns to Snotlout, who decides to look offended at the sudden audience.
“Why the fuck would I know?” Snotlout tunes into the conversation enough to shout at the gang before returning to watching whatever sport he’s watching on his phone today. For a guy who’s not going to be studying all that much, he takes up an awful amount of space on the table.
“Lout, he's your cousin.”
“Shatup fishface, it's not like I know where he is 100 percent of the time. Why don't you ask Astrid, she's his girlfriend or whatever.”
“Okay you little cunt, shut your trap.” This response is accented with Astrid throwing her biology textbook at Snotlout's face even more aggressively than usual.
“I'm not his girlfriend.” Astrid crosses her arms and stares at Snotlout with obvious disdain that he mirrors; which is a pretty normal occurrence between those two. The gang all give each other looks, this ‘will they won't they’ stuff has been happening since high school and at this point they might as well confess for Hiccup if he wants to be so oblivious all the time.
“But I do know where he is … we share a calendar.” Snotlout laughs but Astrid brandishes her other textbook and he promptly shuts up, slumping against Tuffnut with an annoyed huff. “He's at the clinic, but his shift should have finished like an hour ago.”
“Maybe one of Gothi’s cats went feral and ripped his face off!” Ruff exclaims excitedly before falling to the floor and reenacting a cat mauling her face, graphic sound effects and all.
“Or maybe he just has a lot of paperwork to finish?” Offers a slightly concerned Fishlegs, wanting to placate his morbid girlfriend and offering her a hand so she can get off the kitchen floor.
“Who caaares where Hiccup is? All it means is we can have some fun for once”
“SNOTLOUT!” The group chastises in a chorus.
“Ugh, fine. Let's go find the muttonhead.”