A/N: Yup. This is based on the 1990 film 'Ghost' starring Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. Love the film. And I have never killed any part of Hiccstrid off before. Yes, this is still Hiccstrid...it just requires far more effort on the part of the participants. Thanks for all the reviews and comments!
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Four
She was dead.
It had seemed unreal as Astrid had crouched down by Hiccup, trying to comfort him, trying to work out what had happened, how she was able to stare at her own corpse and yet still be there, watching the man she loved break his heart. She gently reached out, meaning to wrap her arm around his jerking shoulders-but her arm was completely insubstantial, sinking through him with a strange, cold sensation. She jerked back, eyes wide in shock and gaped. She tried again-but it was like trying to touch smoke. There was no substance, no warmth or cold, no sensation at all. It was like touching a ghost.
She rose to her full height, staring at her hands, almost uncomprehending.
He wasn't the ghost: she was.
And she had no idea what to do, how to react. He couldn't see or hear her. She couldn't touch him. She would never feel his gentle, strong fingers stroke her face, feel the rough callouses on her cheeks, his soft lips on hers. She would never run her fingers through his soft auburn hair once more. Gods, she would never feel his warmth or his strength or...
Her vision blurred but there were no tears. Tears were a mortal, alive thing, a sign of life and emotion. She was a shade, an echo of a past life that just didn't know when to stop.
"I love you," she whispered brokenly. "Gods, I wish you could hear me now, Hiccup. I wish I had said it so many times when I had the chance. Now you'll never hear it and never know how much I love you and need you. How much I wanted to spend my life with you, to grow old with you, spend all my years with my love..."
And numb, empty, she saw him scream for help, watched the first people approach, saw phones snatched and emergency services called. And wordlessly, she watched blue lights flash and uniformed shapes crowd around her, trying against all reason to pull back what was long gone. Cops cordoned off the scene and led Hiccup back, eyes suspiciously trailing over the bloodstain on his coat where he had clutched her to him, rocking and crying and trying to call her back to him. But he pulled away, desperate as they covered her body and lifted the stretcher, taking her away.
"No! Astrid!" he shouted, urgently following her. "You can't take her away from me. Please-I can't leave her alone. Please..." The cops stared at him then nodded, allowing him to clamber into the back of the ambulance with Astrid while they turned to the EMTs.
"Are you going to Blessed Freya ED?" the cop checked and the ET nodded, clambering into he cabin.
"They'll have to call it and then she'll need a post mortem," he said grimly. "Such a shame-a young woman, killed just like that. What is the world coming to?"
oOo
It was later and Astrid was sitting next to Hiccup on a bank of seats in the ED where her body was being declared dead. The cops had taken some details from him but he was in shock, shaking and staring blankly at the floor. His face was wet with tears and eyes red and swollen so a nurse had kindly brought him a cup of coffee-but he had been holding it for ten minutes, unable to process what had happened.
They had called his father and Astrid wished she could reassure him but she knew he couldn't hear or see or feel her. So she sat by him, desperate to comfort her broken-hearted lover and sighed.
"I know you can't hear me, Hiccup," she said gently. "But I am with you. I will always be with you. I will never leave you alone. I love you and I should have said it so many times. I should have made you knew I loved you every single second of every day. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
An old guy paused by her, his rheumy eyes sweeping over her neat shape. He was rotund, balding and dressed in baggy pants with suspenders, a dark brown cardigan and carpet slippers.
"He can't hear you, lass," he said kindly and her head snapped up in shock.
"But you can?" she gasped, slowly rising to her feet. He nodded and gave a small shrug.
"Well, I'm in the same predicament," he admitted, gesturing to a small side room and an empty trolley. "Three years ago, I was brought in and...well, my time was up. But my Doris was still alive so I couldn't leave her. I remained, watching over her, seeing her fade with grief. She died of a broken heart...but when she passed, she went into the light...but I couldn't follow. It seemed I had rejected my chance and was stuck here." He sighed. "It's usually us old ones...but sometimes you youngsters get lost as well."
He had begun to amble along the corridor and she found herself walking alongside, wanting to hear more. He was literally the only person who could hear her now and though she loved Hiccup, there was a growing sense of isolation.
"Does it happen often?" she asked him curiously, already calculating how many people died every day but he gave a gentle smile before he grimaced and rubbed his back.
"Lumbago," he apologised. "Obviously as a ghost I don't have a bad back...well, I don't have a back...but I do have the memory of a back-and one that twinged!" He grinned and she found herself smiling back. "Not that often, to be honest. Tends to be when someone has so much to stay for that they reject the call to the afterlife. Well, the good one...no one can resist the other one..." And he shuddered.
"Other one?" Astrid asked carefully. If she was stuck here, she should gain as much information as she could about how things worked. He nodded.
"When you died, did you feel a light, a sudden warmth that reached for you, that pulled you...?" he asked her thoughtfully and for a moment she paused...and then she nodded.
"I thought it was the security lighting-I was chasing after the mugger..." she began and then her eyes widened. "After my murderer! But when I turned back, it had already faded..." The old man rubbed his mildly whiskery chin and nodded, his greying jowls moving slightly.
"You are clearly a very strong-willed young woman," he told her thoughtfully. "You were so focussed on chasing the man who killed you that you rejected the afterlife..."
"What's the other one?" she asked him directly. He sighed.
"Most people when they go head..." He pointed self consciously upwards. "But a few bad souls...well, the others come for them." He shuddered. "They're dark and flow and are terrifying...and no one ever escapes..." Astrid glanced around in anxiety but he patted her kindly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, lass-you're not theirs. You're here, aren't you?" Then he patted her shoulder smartly and pointed behind her. "Look!" he said and she spun.
In the room behind them, through the window, they could see an old woman, a mask on her face and doctors and nurses treating her urgently. But there was a glow beginning to fill her face, growing stronger and stronger by the moment.
"The Shimmer," the old man said knowingly. "She's going." Behind the old woman, the EKG flatlined and red alarms flashed. The team swung into action, flattening the bed and beginning expert CPR. A nurse trundled up the defibrillator. But as Astrid and the old man watched, the old woman rose from her body, even as the current arched through her chest. Her lined face was lifted in a beatific smile, her arms stretched out as she rose into the glow-and vanished.
The Team tried for a few more minutes but the EKG remained stubbornly flat and when they called the time of death, Astrid sighed. "It would help them if they knew," she murmured and the old man shrugged.
"Maybe-but human beings cling to hope," he reminded her. "How would you live if you knew the exact date and time of your death? Make every moment count or give in to hopelessness?" He patted her shoulder aimlessly as she mulled over his words. A life of hard physical sports at school and college, of the ruthless pursuit of excellence and exacting financial endeavour hadn't really prepared her for practical metaphysics. "You should go back to your young man, lass," he suggested kindly. "He needs you-even if he doesn't realise it." She nodded and turned away-but she paused.
"Where can I find you?" she asked and he gave a grin, rubbing his back again.
"I'm usually round here-or sometimes at the cemetery, visiting Doris," he said and walked through a double door and into the next room. She stared and then spun on her heel, marching back, trying to dodge around the people, even though they couldn't see or hear her. She spun-and then came face to face with a technician-who walked straight through her. Her eyes widened and she stiffened as her vision peeled back the layers as she experienced them-skin, muscle, bone, eyeballs, brain, skin, hair...and the was gone. She heard him give a shudder.
"Someone just walked over my grave," he mumbled and continued on his way. She shook herself and then made it back to the bank of seats-to see the familiar shape-but now the enormous shape of Stoick Haddock was with his son. Stoick was six foot ten, four hundred pounds and stern with flaming red hair and a huge beard, his face stricken at seeing his only child so distraught. Hiccup was staring blankly ahead, the cold cup of coffee still clasped in his shaking hands.
"She's dead," he whispered as Astrid arrived back at his side. Stoick gently slid his enormous powerful arm across Hiccup's shoulders, pulling the young man towards him.
"I'm so sorry, son," he said in his gruff voice, inexorably pulling the young man against him. Hiccup was six foot one and lean-so he looked skinny and dwarfed by his enormous father. "I know how much you loved her." Hiccup lifted his tragic face, his emerald eyes shining.
"I don't know...how I can go on..." he said in a choked voice as Stoick wrapped his arms around the lean shape. The coffee cup spilled to the floor as Hiccup pressed against him, burying his face into the massive chest. "Dad...it hurts so much...how can I go on?"
oOo
Stoick took his son home, supporting the desolate young sculptor as he walked to his limousine, helping him into the back and waving the driver, the solid one-handed one-legged shape of Gobber unselfconsciously driving on. The man nodded, his blue eyes trailing to the distraught shape of Hiccup and looking distinctly worried. Astrid watched as he lumbered into the car before pulling away rapidly and gliding through the sparse traffic towards the Financier's mansion on the other side of the Park. She had leapt into the back as the two men had gotten in and scooched into a corner, sitting between Hiccup and the window as the young man rested back, his eyes closed.
"Son," Stoick said gently, his eyes filled with sadness. "Tell me what happened?"
Hiccup shuddered, sighing. "Astrid asked to meet me by our special place-the Dragon Fountain," he said slowly. "She said she had something to tell me-and I had something to tell her as well." He swallowed, neck moving as he struggled to speak. "I saw her waiting for me-and then she was jumped. A purse snatcher-but she fought." His lips tilted. "My fierce girlfriend would never lie down and let anyone steal from her. But he had a gun and I saw the flash...he ran back into the park but she was just lying there, blood on her chest...and when I got there, I knew she was...gone..."
"I'm still here," Astrid said quietly.
"And I just...I just held her and begged her to stay...I can't believe she's gone, Dad," Hiccup breathed. "I just keep seeing the flash and the sound of the gun...and Astrid falling..." Stoick looked up in concern, staring to meet the driver's gaze in the rear view mirror.
"Son, we'll have Doctor Gothi come by and see you," he said quietly. "You're going to need a sedative..." But Hiccup's frantic eyes snapped open and he shook his head urgently.
"Oh no, Dad!" he said in a terrified voice. "What if I forget her? What if I forget one single tiny detail that may mean we can catch him? What if I lose one second of my last memory of the woman I love?I can't sleep. I can't leave her. Please, Dad-don't make me sleep!"
In the rear view mirror, Gobber nodded and the screen slid up between the front and back seats. Astrid guessed he would be making a phone call to Stoick Haddock's physician. But Hiccup had bowed forward, covering his face with shaking hands and shoulders jerking.
"She's alone there, Dad," he whispered. "I should with her. Please-get her back...please..." Stoick hugged his son, feeling the rhythmic jerking as sobs wracked him, almost preventing him breathing.
"We'll get her back, son," he promised. "You're her next of kin. We'll get her home...and do right by her."
Bury me, she realised, watching Hiccup crumble. Stoick squeezed his son tighter.
"I'll let her work know," he promised. "And I want you to stay with me for a few days. "i'll send Gobber to fetch Toothless..." Hiccup shivered.
"Okay," he said brokenly. "But-but I want to go home as soon as I can...because all her things are in our house. Astrid is still there." He sighed. "I can almost feel her here, Dad. I just wish I could tell her how much I love her...how I wish it had been me, not her. I love her so much."
Stoick glanced up as they pulled into the drive of his house and slid into the underground garage and held his only child close.
"I'm sorry, son," he whispered as Astrid watched. "I know how you feel. When your mother passed...I wanted to die as well. And if I could take away the pain, I would. But all I can do is go through it with you. You're not alone, son. You'll never be alone."
"I'm here with you, babe," Astrid murmured. "I'll never leave you."
oOo
Astrid spent the next day sitting by Hiccup. A very elderly female doctor had arrived fifteen minutes after they got home and given the exhausted young man a sedative...and because he no longer had any strength to resist, Hiccup had taken it. Shortly after swallowing the pill, he had folded in his father's arms and Stoick had carried his adult son like a baby upstairs to his childhood bedroom and had undressed him and put him in bed. He rested his huge hand on the tousled auburn hair as Astrid settled on a chair by the window.
"Sleep well, son," the big man whispered. "Things will look better in the morning."
In the small hours, Hiccup had nightmares, crying and whimpering for Astrid and, heartbroken, she had managed to climb onto the bed and lie by him. She couldn't touch him, couldn't feel his warmth or the brush of his breath on her skin...but as she lay by him, he quietened and he managed to sleep until morning. But as she watched him, she wondered what she could do. It hurt her more than she could say to see him in such pain-and be able to do nothing. She remembered how much pain she had felt when her parents died, the shock of their sudden death-and she guessed he was struggling with the same pain-but much worse, because Hiccup wore his heart on his sleeve. He loved her, body and soul and never failed to make sure she knew. And she had been so stupid she hadn't wanted to say the words.
The next morning, Stoick had kept his word and informed Heather and the rest of the employees that she had died. Astrid knew that Heather would keep the company stable until her Will was read. She had left her company to Hiccup on the proviso that his father ran it-but that he approved the philanthropic loans. She trusted Hiccup with her dreams-because he had shared his with her. But when he finally woke, he was a wrecked shell of a man, huge shadows under his eyes, skin pale and eyes red. He shambled through the house like he was sleep-walking, managed a little coffee but ate nothing. And not even the arrival of Toothless could cheer him up. He just sat on the sofa, peering at the image of Astrid and himself on his phone, occasionally blinking away a tear.
By the afternoon, Astrid was growing worried and she could tell that Stoick was as well. The huge man tried to ply his son with food, drink and even more sedatives but the young man just sat with the dog resting hard against him.
"You have to eat," Stoick insisted but Hiccup shook his head.
"I'm good," he said tonelessly.
"Not, you're not," Astrid said softly. Toothless whimpered.
"No, you're not," Stoick told him gently. "I know how much the lass meant to you. I know how much you wanted to spend your life with her. Thor, I was even hoping for grand babies one day..." Astrid's eyes widened before she managed a small smile. "But somehow Lord Odin decided it wasn't to be. And I am here for you until you're safe to be left on your own."
"You're not alone," Astrid promised him as the bell rang. There was the sound on limping steps as the one-legged one-handed retainer/driver, Gobber-who was actually a very old friend of Stoick-made his way to the door, grumbling loudly. There were low words and then Gobber reluctantly made his way into the sumptuous sitting room, two detectives in cheap suits standing at his back.
"Detective Mala and Detective Throck are here from Berk PD about Astrid Hofferson's death," he said in a growling voice. "They need to ask Hiccup some questions." Stoick nodded and pointedly took a huge leather armchair as the detectives sat opposite Hiccup as he slumped, cross-legged on a black leather couch. His lean shape was clothed in a loose T-shirt and loose training pants, unshaven with ashen skin, deep shadows under his red-rimmed eyes, the life gone from the emerald gaze and an arm wrapped around his black dog that was watching him worriedly.
"Mister Haddock, I'm sorry to disturb you at this sad time, but we need to take statement from you while the events are fresh in your mind," Throk, a tall, buff man with cool eyes and red hair, asked. His expression was suspicious. Hiccup's gaze flicked up.
"Doubt they'll ever not be fresh," he said hoarsely.
"Did you see the person who you say shot Miss Hofferson?" Walking across the room and peering out into he garden, Mala's words were cold. She was a tall woman with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes who carried herself with great poise-but there was total remoteness in her face. Her green eyes swept over the wrecked young man carefully as she turned back.
"He was a little taller then me, buff...very short hair...maybe red?" Hiccup murmured. "It was very dark and he was running away." He frowned. "Didn't the security cameras catch anything?"
"Out of order-like the main illumination," Mala informed him coldly. "Can you think of any reason anyone would want to harm Miss Hofferson?" Hiccup flinched.
"Um...she was quite well off," he mumbled. "She ran an investment company..."
"While you're a poor artist," Throk commented sharply.
"Who is the only son and Heir to the Haddock Corporation," Stoick commented.
"Did you have any reason to harm Miss Hofferson?" Mala asked Hiccup directly. "Did you have any reason to kill her?"