Of the Northmost Winds and Skies

Chapter 37: Hiccup has a conversation that feels very one-sided

The thunderstorm passed like an anticlimax.

On their way back to Hiccup's house, Jamie spotted his friends and left to hang out with them, while Ruffnut and Tuffnut announced they had some experiments to conduct, concerning – in their words – lightning. Jack thought they were a few years ahead of their time, but though the twins weren't known for their intelligence, they were also just unpredictable enough that Jack wouldn't be too surprised if they prematurely invented the lightbulb. He left them to it.

The second he was alone, Jack stopped in his tracks. He drummed his fingers against his staff, grinding his teeth.

It had certainly been an unconventional show of his powers back there. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He was happy, but not for his own sake, was what it felt like. He was happy for Jamie, and the hope lighting up his eyes. He was happy for the thought of getting Baby Tooth back. He was happy thinking about how he would come to the Guardians' aid soon; he only hoped they were still restraining the time fragment. There was no time for Jack to hesitate.

And yet.

Jack shook his head and kept walking, keeping his eyes straight ahead to ignore the villagers who were undoubtably giving him weird looks for stopping in the middle of the square to stare at his staff. But he suspected they would've done that anyway.

He walked up the steps to Hiccup's house, carefully opening the front door. He still felt a bit awkward around Stoick – they hadn't really talked about their disappearance, but Jack had a feeling it was coming, and he wanted to avoid it for as long as possible – but when he saw it was only Hiccup sitting by the hearth, sketching something on a piece of paper, he opened the door fully.

"What's that?" he asked, craning his neck to see what Hiccup was working on.

Hiccup looked up, his brows furrowed. "Oh... kay," he said slowly, getting to his feet.

Jack raised his brows. "What?" he asked, closing the door behind himself. He walked closer to the hearth, but stopped when Hiccup headed straight towards him. He only noticed something was wrong a heartbeat before it happened.

Hiccup passed through him.

The crackling from the fire turned suddenly quiet. Jack remained standing, staring at the empty space where he had just been looking at Hiccup's eyes. He became conscious of his own rapid breathing, and his hand against his chest. Slowly, he turned around.

Hiccup was looking out the door, a confused expression on his face. "Hello?" he called uncertainly, completely unaware of Jack's presence.

The corners of Jack's vision darkened. "No," he breathed. Hiccup didn't react. He only closed the door and went back to his drawing. Desperately, Jack tried grabbing his wrist, but his hand phased through him. "No," he said again, his voice barely there, as if he was fading away, even from himself. "Look at me. Please, look at me—"

And then he woke up in the dark of Hiccup's bedroom.

He sat up on his spot on the floor, gasping. His heart hammered against his ribs. In the span of half a second, he was relieved, and then overwhelmed by grief. He pressed his face into his hands, choking back what would've been a sob loud enough to wake the three other occupants of the room. He remained in that position, muffling his gasps until they grew still.

The room was quiet. Jack listened intently for the slow, unconscious rhythm of Jamie's breath and Hiccup's soft snoring, making sure that he hadn't woken them. After a couple of minutes, he pushed himself to his feet and walked over to Hiccup's shield, resting against the wall. The room was almost completely dark, but a faint stream of moonlight reflected off the iron. Jack crouched in front of it, peering at what he could see of his own face. He brought a hand to his hair, tugging at the white strands. Was it his imagination, or were there more of them now?