All These Lights

dagur's epode

"Hiccup, are you sure about this?" 

Hiccup rolled his eyes as the all too familiar question was asked yet again.

It had been a week since Hiccup was discharged and everyone was walking on eggshells around him.

He hated it.

He hated not being able to go to the bathroom without one of the guys breathing down his neck. He hated how he had been barred from rehearsing or warming up. He hated how everything he ate or drank had to be prepared in front of Astrid or Eret. He hated how Astrid had been so busy deferring what could have been a PR nightmare that he hadn't really seen her since he got discharged.

Most of all, he hated how Astrid had a familiarly somber look in her tired eyes.

"Yes I'm sure." Hiccup replied.

The day after he collapsed, Astrid had gone on record stating that there was no attempt to physically harm Hiccup, he had just passed out from exhaustion. Astrid refused to let anyone talk her out of her statement, and apparently even Stoick agreed it was the best option. Hiccup hated it because it put the blame on her and her alone, and the public did exactly that.

Within 24 hours headlines around the world began reading: Us Four's Deadly New Management, A Second Failure for a Young Manager out of New York, Astrid Hofferson: The Industry's Latest Talent-Killer.

Hiccup hated it. He hated it because in all the time he knew Astrid, which wasn't a whole lot, he knew her to be kind-hearted, caring, adventurous, strong-willed, and even a little mischievous at times. He was not about to let the whole world think of the person he cares about the most as a monster.

So he announced that he wanted to make his return a day after her statement, because he needed to set the record straight.

"I don't like this, Hiccup." Astrid paused and took a deep breath, "we have been dead silent ever since the press conference, there's no telling what they'll say if you go out there tonight like nothing happened."

"Then why did you organize the concert if you weren't going to let me perform?"

"I had to... Stoick insisted we get you back on stage as soon as possible and so I found myself organizing this whole thing without really thinking it through or even trying to voice my concerns."

Hiccup looked at Astrid for the first time since the conversation began. Normally she'd be wearing something put together, a sundress or dress pants depending on the weather, but that day she truly looked lost in black leggings and an oversized Us Four hoodie. There was a frantic look in her dulling eyes as she stared off into the space directly left of Hiccup. 

"What's there to be concerned about, Astrid? I'm perfectly fine."

Astrid inhaled sharply. "We don't know what the fuck even happened, Hiccup, and we don't know if it will happen again."

The room went quiet.

Astrid, who rarely lost her cool, hardly ever cursed (in professional settings), and never backed down from an argument in which she was right, fell silent. She continued to avoid looking Hiccup in the eyes, something he felt increasingly uneasy about. This time Astrid's eyes were trained toward the floor and, though she would never admit it, there were definitely tears welling in the corners of her eyes. 

Hiccup fought the urge to wrap his arms around her and wipe them away.

In the distance was the noise of the crowd chatting in the arena and miscellaneous crew members performing their duties, preparing for Dagur's part of the concert. He could be heard warming up in a room nearby. Equipment was being moved, doors were opening and closing, as if the sounds of live music were trying to fill the aching nothingness in the air of Hiccup's dressing room.