Six

Hiccup moved back to their home after the funeral-accompanied by faithful Toothless and, of course, Astrid. And it had been immensely painful to watch the man have to pause at the door of the home they had built, had loved together and have to steel himself to turn the key in the lock and enter.

The hall was cold and dark, the lights not on and a light layer of dust on the surfaces. He turned to the thermostat, switched up the heat and flipped the light on. And stiffened-for the first thing he saw was Astrid's baby blue woollen hat carelessly discarded in the hall table. Astrid gasped as he slowly extended an arm and gripped it, raising it slowly to his face and breathing deeply, catching the last hints of her scent. He closed his eyes for a long moment and sighed.

"Gods, I miss you, Milady," he murmured, then forced himself to put the hat down and walk into the rest of the building. Automatically, he lit the fire in the log-burner in the main living room, put the kettle on and poured a pile of biscuits into Toothless's bowl. The black dog looked up with a whine, then turned to his meal, his tail wagging. "Hmm...didn't take you long to get back to normal," he mumbled, opening the cupboard, reaching out...and then stiffening, giving a low groan.

He had instinctively grasped two mugs when making the coffee: marked Babe and Milady. With a shaking hand, he placed Milady back in the cupboard and closed the door, listlessly spooning instant coffee granules and sugar in, then sloshing the boiling water in. He pressed a hand to his face.

"I can't do it, bud," he murmured. "Everything here reminds me of her. I just expect to turn around and see her." Toothless whined and instantly walked to his side, pressing against his leg. Tousling the dog's ears, he reached for the milk carton and poured a big slosh in. He sipped his coffee and stared down into the big green eyes of the mutt. "Don't leave me, okay? I'm not sure I could cope without you as well, buddy."

Quietly, he walked through the house, emerald eyes sliding quietly across every corner, replaying memories of being here with Astrid. And she watched him, seeing each new memory hit him like a fresh wound, the pain of her absence crippling. The bathroom with her toiletries and make-up neatly arrayed, her toothbrush lying waiting for an owner who would never return: her home office that was pristine, the plant wilting from lack of water-and the bedroom, her side neat with everything stowed and put away meticulously but overall looking wrecked because Hiccup's side was a disaster as he grabbed things for the funeral, trying not to look at the room and the side of the bed that would be forever empty. He pulled his tie off, dumped the jacket on the bed and then unfastened the top button of his shirt, sliding it over his head. It joined the piles of clothes on the bed. He kicked his shoes off and threw his socks aside, then removed his pants. Urgently, he dragged out one of his loose tee-shirts and hauled on a mucky pair of paint- and clay-splattered jeans that Astrid always wrinkled her nose at-and he once again looked like the sculptor/potter she had fallen in love with. Driven by silent purpose, he sped up the stairs to the loft studio and clicked the lights on, letting out a shuddering sigh.

He was home: this was his space, his haven, the place where he was himself most of all. But even here, there were reminders...the wheel where he had attempted to teach her how to throw pots and which had led to so much more, the table where she had been learning to make clay animals...the blanket where they made love. He walked aimlessly-and then he found the small kiln still locked, though stone cold because it had completed a firing the night...the night she had died. He frowned and quietly opened the door-to stare at the little shape within.

It broke him. He slumped to his knees, hands flat on the surface and head bowed, as sobs shuddered through him. Terrible tearing sobs filled the silent room as tears dripped from his desperately closed eyes. It was her last effort, the little dragon she had been so proud of-her own personal species-a 'Deadly Nadder'-that she had named Stormfly. Throat constricted with utter misery, he reached out and cradled the little shape, cool and smooth and slightly rough with the biscuit firing.

"She came out pretty well," Astrid murmured, eyeing the little dragon. "Look after him, girl."

Suddenly, Hiccup was on his feet, fired with purpose. He almost stumbled to the table and laid the little sculpture reverently on the surface, before grabbing his tints and stains and a fine brush. Then he clicked the light on.

"Okay, Stormfly," he murmured, grasping the brush in his left hand and opening the first tint. "Copper to bring out the sky blue...gold and...white for the highlights..." He pulled up a stool and leaned forward. "Blue for Astrid's eyes, gold for her hair and white for her skin." He took a small breath. "Okay, let's make you almost as beautiful as your creator..."

oOo

"Okay, this is not healthy," Snotlout announced, frying a pan of eggs with more enthusiasm than skill. Hiccup sipped his beer, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Really? I'm not sure that's healthy either!" he shot back, eyeing the bubbling eggs and oil.

"When did you last eat properly?" Fishlegs asked him directly, tidying. The kitchen that Astrid had been so proud of-even though Hiccup was far and away the better cook-was grubby and messy, with cartons of proto-yoghurt that had once been milk fermenting the the fridge and the cooker grimy and crusted with grease. Astrid watched Hiccup's friends gently scold him while determinedly taking care of him.

"Um...two days ago...though I'm pretty sure cereal counts..."

"You don't have any milk, Hiccup!" Fishlegs growled, dumping the cartons on the trash. "How can you eat cereal?"

"It's got marshmallows. I just eat it from the packet..."

"And drink...?"

"Black coffee. And beer..."

"Yeah, I can see that," Fishlegs muttered darkly, dumping another handful of cans in the trash.

"How do you want your steak?" Snotlout asked, peering at the severely charred lump of meat under the grill. Hiccup sighed.

"If I said 'rare' what chance would I have of getting a rare steak?" he asked pointedly.

"None-unless rare is very similar to almost-on-fire," Fishlegs commented, wiping the table clean and throwing the last of the spoiled food in the trash. Deftly, he began to store the fresh food from the bags he and Snotlout had brought for their friend.

"Ha ha, Fishface!" Snotlout grumped, grabbing the tossed salad he had prepared and slamming the bowl on the table, then divvying out the eggs and steaks. "Come on, Hicc-you look like a hobo. Your hair is...wild, you've got a sort of beard-really bad, man-lose it!-and you need a shower." Disinterestedly, Hiccup sniffed at his tee-shirt and he was forced to wrinkle his nose, a twinge of pain shooting through him as he recalled Astrid's determined rescue of him from his obsession and the exact same scenario. He nodded. Fishlegs stood by him and folded his arms so he wearily levered himself up and dragged his body over to the table, plonking down by the food and taking a tentative bite...and then grabbing the knife and attacking it like a starving man. His two friends shared a look, then took their places by him, starting their own portions.

"Cuz-you know I care for you and this is meant with the best of intentions...but this is really not healthy!" Snotlout said with his mouth full. Years of dealing with his cousin meant that Hiccup could still understand him perfectly,

"I know you're hurting and what happened was...horrible...but you can't keep on like this!" Fishlegs added. Emerald eyes flicked up defensively before they fixed back on the rapidly-clearing plate.

"I'm fine." The stubbornness was there that had the watching Astrid rolling her eyes. She had watched him over the last few days, seeing him neglect himself-though not Toothless-and mourn her. Mainly in his studio where he worked day and night, creating some of the most beautiful and sad pieces she had ever seen: sculpted relief plaques studded by dying dragons; tall, willowy vases that echoed a wilting flower and a clay bust of Astrid herself. And through it all, the little fired dragon, Stormfly, was there, perched on the shelf in all her fired and glazed glory.

"You're not fine," Astrid sighed.

"You're not fine," Fishlegs sighed. "Hiccup-Astrid loved you..."

"Did she?" he asked painfully, his eyes briefly revealing his desolation. "She never said it. In fact, she refused to say it. She thought they were just words...but to me, they were...everything."

"She loved you," Snotlout insisted sternly. "Gods, I am probably the least sensitive person in our High School Year and I could spot it. Whatever reasons she had-and I guess the fact all her family and everyone she loved died on her may have had some bearing-never doubt what she felt."

"Wow," Astrid commented, peering at the stocky man. "That is the single most mature and insightful speech you have ever made. Why couldn't you have made it before I died?"

"Wherever Astrid is now, she would not want you to die," Fishlegs said. "You're trying to waste away here, Hicc-but she would want you to live. She loved you. She loved your work, your insight, your kindness...and your compassion. She would want you to go on. She would want you to protect her legacy. And share your talent with the world. She believed in you. You have to believe in her." Hiccup pushed his empty plate away.

"Kind of hard now she's dead." he said bitterly.

"She's here," Fishlegs said with utter conviction. Astrid stared at him in shock.

"Can you see me? Hear me?" she asked in shock-but his next words dashed her hopes.

"In spirit," the husky blonde man qualified, staring very pointedly at the young man. "She'll always be with you because you loved her. And she would be very unhappy to see you like this!"

"Or her kitchen," Snotlout added.

"Damned right," Astrid muttered as Toothless gave a small whine. The dog was looking directly at her and she frowned. Hiccup gave a huge sigh and slumped back.

"You're right," he admitted, sipping his beer. "But I've never been in love before and I'm still in love and knowing that I can never see her again, never touch her again, never hear her voice or kiss her...it's killing me!" He stared at the table. "Sometimes I want it all to end..." Astrid moved forward and gently rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Oh, babe," she whispered. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"And then I realise I am being selfish...because I have Toothless and my Dad and there are all those things, the plans I made with Astrid...and I have to do them because we can't do them together." He ran his hands through his shaggy hair, his voice shaky. "But thanks, guys. I needed this."The two young men shared a look.

"Don't think you're getting rid of us that easily," Snotlout commented. "We clean this tip up-and then you set a date to start putting some of Astrid's stuff away!"

"NO!" Hiccup's voice was abrupt and angry.

"Not all of it, Hiccup," Fishlegs said in a mollifying voice. "But a few items...just to tidy up." Hiccup shook his head.

"No, I can't..." His voice was almost panicked. "It-it will seem like she's left me and..." His voice cracked. "And like she isn't coming back." Snotlout rose and walked through Astrid, throwing an arm around Hiccup's shoulders.

"She isn't coming back, cuz," he said sadly, seeing the auburn-haired sculptor screw his eyes shut. "I'm sorry...but..."

"But that doesn't mean she's ever left you," Fishlegs murmured. "Look, we'll go through your pictures and choose the best of them. You can put one in each room so she's there with you. How's that sound?" Hiccup peered at him and swiped his damp cheeks.

"Have you been reading up on dealing with grief?" he asked suspiciously, knowing his friend's penchant for research. His suspicions were confirmed when Fishlegs blushed scarlet and fiddled with his hands. "But...it's a good idea," he admitted, forcing himself to give a strained smile. "Okay-but I'll have a shower first and then we can check through those pictures..."

oOo

Despite the visit from Snotlout and Fishlegs-and Stoick and Gobber dropping by, Astrid watched Hiccup over the next few of days and saw him continue to struggle. He spent more time than ever in his studio and as she looked on, the man she loved set himself to work once more, moulding clay into shapes of animals. His movements were still as precise and skilled as ever but she could tell his heart wasn't into it as it used to be. A sad, weary expression remained on his face as he shaped the clay in his hands into that of a dragon, fingers smoothing the damp material and gently teasing wings and legs from the shapeless lump. With a sigh, he lifted a small wooden stylus and began to work on the intricate details.

A whine nearby caught her attention and she looked down to find Toothless staring directly up at her. She frowned and leaned forward.

"Toothless?" she murmured, wondering again if the dog could actually see her-and the words of Eugene, the old ghost from the hospital came back.

Others can sense you as well: animals, the dying, those in comas, maybe some in that nether world between sleep and awake, some spiritualists...

Toothless continued to whimper and she wondered whether her presence made him uneasy or just sad-so she knelt down by the black mutt and tried to wrap her arms around him to offer comfort. But this time, as every other time, her arms just passed through him, no matter how hard she tried. And try she did, over and over-but after many failed attempts, Toothless bounded off into the upstairs landing and grabbed the picture frame resting on the little table by the sash window before making his way over to Hiccup.

Sitting like a retriever with the item clutched in his mouth, he patted Hiccup's leg with his paw to get his owner's attention. Sighing, Hiccup stopped what he was doing, gently laying the stylus down and carefully placing the incomplete dragon on the smooth surface. He turned to his friend and reached out for the item in Toothless's mouth before he taking it and turning it around to look directly a picture of him and Astrid smiling back at him. He took a shuddering breath.

"You miss her too, huh bud?" he asked, mistaking the real reason why his companion brought him the picture as Toothless laid his head on his lap. Tears begin forming in his eyes as he looked at one of their happiest times. Astrid peered at the image and smiled: it had been a summer day in the park. Nothing fancy, just two lovers walking, sitting on the cool grass under the tree, eating ice cream and laughing and kissing.

"I miss her so much, Toothless. I can still feel her sometimes. It's almost like she never left. As if she's going to walk through that door any second now and tell me what she wanted to say," he said as he hugged his best friend with his free hand while the other stroked the smiling Astrid in the picture, the motions repetitive and determined, as if he could feel her skin again if he tried hard enough. "You know, if I had been a couple of minutes earlier, I would have been there with her and I could have protected her. I could have stopped him from taking her purse-or killing her. Thor, why am I always late?" He dug his hands into his hair. "I did it," he said in a dead voice. "It was my fault. If I had been on time, she would be alive...so it's my fault she's dead."

He glanced up at the little Deadly Nadder. "I killed her," he whispered. Astrid shook her head in dismay-and utter distress.

No, no, no. He couldn't blame himself! It wasn't his fault. He had never harmed anyone in his life. He was always five minutes late-and she knew that. He wasn't responsible for a person who tried to grab her purse and had shot her in the process. And she couldn't let him torture himself over her death when he was wholly innocent.

She rose, trailing her hand over his face, staring deep into his distraught emerald eyes.

"You didn't kill me," she said sternly. "You didn't harm me. I love you-and I won't let you suffer." She turned to the dog. "Toothless-watch over him for me. I need to find someone who can hear me-and the man who really killed me. I won't let Hiccup blame himself."

The black tail thumped the floor as it wagged in acknowledgement and Hiccup hugged his canine friend tightly. But Astrid was already away, speeding down the stairs and running at the door, bursting through into the cold afternoon. She had a killer to find.