Three: Awkward

Hiccup had almost lost feeling in his legs as he noticed Astrid yawn for the fourth time and he sighed. Reaching out, he tapped her on the shoulder and her head snapped up, eyes blinking owlishly.

"I'm awake!" she snapped. He rolled his eyes.

"Not for long," he grumbled. "Were you planning on taking a break or just driving until you fell asleep and crashed me again?"

"No, of course not!" she said irritably, her eyes red from tiredness."I'm fine."

"Excuse me for not believing you! When were you planning on taking a break. And where?"

She drove on for a few moments, her headlamps illuminating the empty road ahead of them. "I was just gonna find a place and sleep in the car for a few hours," she admitted.

He almost choked. "Thor, no way!" he coughed. "Apart from how freakin' dangerous that is..."

"Did you just say 'freakin''?" she smirked.

"Um...yeah...but not sleeping in a car!" he protested.

"Well, the other option is the ground outside," she snapped.

"Actually...I have a motel booked...about ten miles up the road," he told her. She stared at him and swerved. He gave a small shriek as she wrenched the wheel and just avoided driving off the road.

"AARGH! Can you even drive?" he shouted.

"Of course I can!" she yelled at him.

"So not convinced!" he retorted. "You nearly killed me and now you nearly crashed us both!"

"How did you know we would be here?" she demanded.

"I expected me to be here and knew this would be far enough before needing a break," Hiccup told her shortly. "Now are we going to make it alive or should I call ahead and tell them to cancel because we'll be dead in a twisted pile of metal?" Astrid muttered under her breath, her eyes fixed on the windshield.

"Ten miles?" she asked.

"Probably nine now," he said and they sat in awkward silence until the motel appeared on the left. Astrid swerved across the carriageway and screeched to a halt by the main entrance. Hiccup tentatively opened his eyes and muttered a prayer to Thor. "I'm alive," he muttered and opened the door, wincing as he unfolded and staggered, his legs almost buckling. "I'll check in," he said and tried to rub the life back into his cramped muscles. Astrid sprang out and stretched, then shook her head.

"I'll come with you, biker boy," she said sharply.

"Biker Boy? I have a name, you know..." he protested, limping in.

"Are you going inside or not?" she asked him tartly. He groaned and walked in, shaking his head and nodding to the man at the desk. The formica top was peeling and the floor was uneven. The fluorescent strip in the ceiling was flickering, casting a harsh pinkish-white light that highlighted the general grubbiness of the little reception.

"Harrison Hanson. I have a reservation...twin room," he said tiredly. The man looked him up and down, his balding head and stubbly jowls topping a grubby green shirt with the 'Happy Motel' chain logo on.

"Thought yer weren't comin'!" he said as an excuse "So I let yer room..." Hiccup gave a growl.

"But I have paid. In full. In advance!" He fished out the confirmation and waved it furiously under the man's nose. The man peered at it disinterestedly.

"Sorry-I've rented your room!" he said with a yellow grin. Hiccup leaned closer.

"You owe me a room!" he growled, leaning forward and grabbing the man by the shirt. "I have already paid! You have to have somewhere..." Dark eyes flicked up and met blazing emerald and then sweat beaded his brow. His hand snaked down and snagged a key.

"Last one...but it's a double, not a twin."

"I'll take it," Hiccup growled and snatched the key, stalking past Astrid. She stared after him and then at the man at the desk, wiping his face with a filthy rag. The man jerked a thumb after the furious Hiccup.

"He got my last room...rude bastard!" he growled and retreated to his back office, slamming the door pointedly. Astrid sighed, then raced to the car, grabbing her bag before chasing after Hiccup as he limped to the far end of the motel and clambered up to the upper floor, using the key to open the peeling door. He flicked the light on...and sighed.

The room was brown...brown walls, brown carpet, brown cheap furniture, brown drapes...and it smelled vaguely damp. A sagging double bed was laden with rugs and a pair of sagging pillows and the headboard had handcuffs attached to the uprights. A brown corduroy-covered couch sagged against the far wall and the door to the bathroom was ajar. Astrid appeared at his shoulder and wrinkled her nose in disgust at the accommodation on offer.

"Well, this is really worth the effort," she snarked.

"Hey, the car is still available," he retorted. Astrid pushed past him and dumped her suitcase on the bed.

"Nope-this is fine," she said shortly, looking around as he closed the door and slid the chain into place. Her eyes fell onto the handcuffs attached to the headboard. "Hmm...what did the information on this motel say?" He looked suddenly shifty and embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand.

"Didn't look...I just needed something cheap," he admitted and sighed, dropping his rucksack on the couch. "Look...I need to clean up...I'm pretty banged up from the crash. Do you need the bathroom or can I go first?" Astrid looked at him, then shrugged.

"Knock yourself out," she invited him and for a second, his emerald gaze flicked up over an amused grin.

"Nah-I'll leave that to you," he smirked, grabbed his rucksack and vanished into the bathroom. In a few moments, the water started running and she sat unbidden on the couch. This wasn't how she imagined her night...though this was probably better and far safer than sleeping alone in her car beside the road. She scrubbed her face with her hands to keep herself awake until he emerged...because she needed to clarify sleeping arrangements. And she was feeling guilty every time she looked at him limping pathetically in his wrecked leathers. She just hoped he would look less pathetic once he was cleaned up.

She must have dozed because her eyes snapped open with a jerk as the door creaked open and the biker emerged...and her eyes widened in shock as she saw him.

He was tall and lean but dressed in a plain white tee-shirt and a pair of loose grey leggings, it was obvious he was anything but skinny: his arms had well-defined muscles, his shoulders were broader than she had guessed and she could see his legs were well-toned through the leggings. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the multiple band-aids on his elbows and a scrape and several bruises across his neck. He was lightly freckled and his towel-dried hair was darkened and casually messy. His sharp jaw had been shaved and his emerald eyes were shining as he saw her. He smiled as he limped forward, barefoot...and she realised in shock that his left foot wasn't real. Her jaw dropped.

He caught her expression and sighed. "Okay...ask," he invited her, his tone very defensive.

"I-I didn't realise..." she gabbled. He gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"Why should you. I don't exactly walk around wearing a huge placard reading CRIPPLE," he told her sarcastically. She flinched at the term.

"Um, not exactly politically correct," she mumbled. He rolled his eyes.

"Please. It's my lack of leg and I can call it whatever the Helheim I want!"

"But...I mean...you..."

"I think the impact jarred my stump," he told her and limped to the bed, perching on the edge and pulling up his leggings to reveal the cup over his stump. "Skin's intact but it's really painful..."

"Um...how..." she asked quietly. His eyes flicked up and he slowly lowered his pants leg again.

"Accident at work," he murmured. "About three years ago. One of the machines let go in the primary manufacturing facility while I was on duty and another engineer was trapped. He would have been killed. I managed to grab him and haul him free...but my leg got caught and mangled way beyond any repair. They ended up having to amputate. Fortunately, work had me on their insurance so they dealt with all the bills and footed the bill-hah!-for my prosthesis." She looked at him and saw him shrug. "Look, I've come to terms with it because I had to. They funded all my medical bills, my recuperation and rehab and my prostheses. I was given some compensation which I used to get my apartment and my bike...when I had a bike..." Astrid blushed. "And I finished my primary degree and a Masters while I was out of action." She grabbed her bag.

"I-I'll just freshen up," she murmured and almost sprinted for the bathroom. He watched the door slam and sighed, his head dropping as his hands tightened round the knees.

"It's the leg," he murmured. "As soon as they find out, they leave. Gods, it would be nice just for once not to be looked at like some kind of freak..."

Inside the bathroom, Astrid heard his soft words and face-palmed. She had been completely unsure what to say to him so hiding in the bathroom to regain her composure had seemed like the ideal solution...but to him, it must have seemed that she couldn't bear to be near him. And it clearly had been something he had endured more than once in the past. She sagged: she couldn't go out without letting him know that she had been eavesdropping. Somehow, her own problems seemed to pale into insignificance. Tiredly, she began to unbraid her hair and set the shower running.

Hiccup was almost dozing as she emerged, her long golden hair loosely braided and he frowned, wondering if he knew her. She was also in a loose pair of leggings and tee-shirt and she bounced onto the bed and looked at him expectantly. "So what now?" she asked. "How do we work this?" Hiccup sighed.

"You take the bed," he said defeatedly. "I'll sleep on the couch." She looked at him in shock: this was his room, he had fought for it and paid for it and he was pretty banged up by the collision. He definitely needed the bed more than she did. She huffed and grabbed a pillow and a rug off the bed.

"No!" she snapped. "You need the bed more. I'm taking the couch..."

"Astrid..." he began but she was already lying down.

"Get the lights, will you?" she asked, punching her pillow and dragging the rug over her. Sighing, he nodded.

"As you wish," he mumbled, clicking on the bedside lamp then limping to the front door and clicking off the main light. She heard him limp to the bed and the sigh as he sat, expertly taking off his leg and lying back. He reached out and the room was blanketed in almost-darkness, with the few orange rays of light from the outside lights penetrating the room.

Astrid fidgeted and tried to get comfortable, rapidly regretting her generous offer. Harry's breathing had quietened and she assumed he had gone to sleep. Then he shifted position.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked her gently, his slightly nasal voice concerned. She winced: she would be really stiff by morning.

"Fine," she lied. Then she paused. "It doesn't bother me, you know."

"What?"

"Your leg."

"Well that's lucky since it wasn't trying to," he replied sarcastically.

"No...but I heard you. Sorry. It doesn't bother me. I work in fitness rehab with amputees."

"Oh. Sorry. It's usually about the leg. So...why was your day so bad?" he asked her. There was a pause.

"My divorce was final today," she admitted. "I've quit my job and the house has been given up so everything I want is in my car..." She paused.

"So you didn't want to take any furniture-chairs, table, bed...?" he asked.

"Yuk, no," she said. "Unfortunately I found out that our marital bed had been used by considerably more than the two of us! A friend found pictures of my slime of an ex in it with various cheerleaders..." There was a pause.

"Sorry. I know how that feels," 'Harry' commiserated. She cocked an eye at the lumpy shape outlined by a stray ray of orange light.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with a sigh.

"No, I wasn't married but I was sorta hoping...but it was the leg. She explained in the text...I wasn't whole so she felt..."

"She dumped you by text?" Her voice was outraged. "Odin, that's cold!"

"Yeah, well it fitted into the way I've come to expect relationships to run. You know...meet a nice girl, go on a few dates, want to take things further, find out about the leg as things get a bit...heated and bang! Thanks but no thanks, limpy!" His voice had turned sarcastic.

"Met mine at College. Football player-really thought a lot of himself. I fell head over heels for him. We were inseparable...but when he got scouted to the leagues, he slowly changed. We got married a year after we met and I stuck with him for over three years...until Ruff showed me the pictures. All of them. I sued for divorce just as he bust his knee and lost his money. He managed to stash away his cash and I left with nothing...not even the house we shared."

"You win," he announced dryly. "Can't compete with that for pathos!" She tried to snuggle further down but it was cold.

"Never wanted to win that contest," she admitted.

"So what're you gonna do now?" he asked her gently. She shrugged.

"Go home, I guess," she sighed. "My parents will take me back in...I hope. They weren't too thrilled with the Vegas quickie wedding..."

"I'm sure they'll be overjoyed to have you home..." he assured her, hearing her teeth start to chatter. "Look...there's plenty of room in this bed and if you come here, we can both have the benefit of your blanket."

"Now listen here..." she began angrily and he sighed.

"Astrid, I am covered in a hundred bruises and some nasty scrapes. I can barely move. I promise I will manfully fight off my raging lust for you so we both don't freeze!" There was a pause as she digested his sarcasm.

"You promise?" He nodded.

"Cross my heart," he assured her, then heard the creak of the couch and the rustle as the rug was thrown across the bed. With a sigh, she slid in and he felt the soggy mattress dip under her weight. Suddenly he gave a small yelp.

"What?" she snapped.

"Your foot! It's absolutely freezing!"

"So is this room!" she retorted, lying as far away from him as she could.

"Not my finest work," he confessed dryly. "I presume they think the tenants will be otherwise occupied in more...vigorous pursuits..." Hiccup craned his head. "Though probably not the one in the handcuffs..." He felt her shiver. "And for Thor's sake, get over here! You're freezing!"

"I-I-I-I'm g-g-good..." she protested, her teeth chattering. He confidently reckoned she was half out of the bed, she was so far over in her zeal to avoid him. With a sigh, he reached across and grabbed her, hauling her close and tucking the blankets over them both.

"I don't bite!" he protested as she punched him in the shoulder. "And OW! Haven't I got enough bruises from you?"

"Keep your hands to yourself..." she snapped...but found she felt warmer snuggled close to him. The heat radiating from his warm shape made her gradually scooch closer until she was almost resting against him. "No ideas, mister!" she warned him as he sighed.

"I really just wanna sleep," he murmured as he felt her curl against him. She kneaded his shoulder automatically and rested her head against him.

"Don't move," she mumbled and her breathing slowed as she fell asleep. Hiccup lay still for a long moment...then his eyes slowly fluttered closed, the warmth of sleep enfolding him. For some very strange reason, he was snuggled in bed in a freezing motel room with a strange woman from his home town who had annihilated his bike and injured him...and he felt...good about it.

"This is the strangest trip I've ever taken," he mumbled as sleep took him.