Anniversary.

It was the day he feared every year, the one day that he knew the memories would resurface. He lay still on his bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark until the alarm went and he wearily sat up. It was fifteen years to the day since his mother died...and he had nearly died. And once again, he would be completely alone.

Not physically, of course. Hiccup Haddock was a reluctant member of the Dragon Riders of B.E.R.K., a teenager stuck in a secret army unit and pair-bonded with the alpha dragon, a year old Night Fury-the most intelligent, fast and loyal dragon. The bond had been effectively accidental as the lanky teen had gotten lost and ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time to meet the newly hatched Toothless. The Night fury had chosen the boy and no one could change his mind. So the young outsider in the isolated and secret base had been forced to join the angry and jealous Riders, the select group chosen by the Army to bond with the dragons. And-worse-he had ended by by default as their leader.

Hiccup wearily stumbled out of bed. He was tall, skinny and lanky, his dark auburn hair cut choppily above the collar and crazily sticking up after sleep. His bright forest green eyes swept the room and a sigh shuddered through him. The place was a mess, clothes strewn over the floor and papers piled haphazardly on his desk. Tiredly, he gave a yawn and stretched, his neck cracking as he tried to wake up and stumbled to the shower. The water washed over him and he closed his eyes. Another day alone-no friends, companions, family...except his dragon. He flipped the shower off and reached for the towel.

Of course, he had family: a father, an uncle and a cousin. His aunt was estranged from his uncle and Hiccup hadn't heard from her for over seven years-and then, just a birthday card. He sighed, dried his hair and tried to find some clothes. After some searching and tripping over cables to his two laptops, he found a dark green long-sleeved top, a black training top, black jeans and black converse-falling apart now. Wearily, he clipped on his ID badge, checked he had his com-watch and walked out of the room, heading for the Mess. With luck, he would have beat the others to breakfast.

His luck was out, for the worst were already waiting for him, their eyes lighting up as he entered and the slew of taunts instantly began.

"Hey, Useless!" his cousin Snotlout sneered. "What took you so long?"

"Been meeting with your friends? Oh, I forgot-you don't have any!" Savage taunted.

"Why don't you just do us a favour and leave?" Dagur hissed. Hiccup flinched and sighed but forced himself to walk on. He had every right to be here, no matter how much it cost him in terms of self-respect. Just another great day. He quietly walked to the servery and grabbed beans on toast, heading towards a table at the edge of the room. Eret and Savage grabbed him and led him to the main table, sitting him opposite Dagur, the most vociferous and vicious of his tormentors. His eyes dropped to his plate, to the table, unsure what to say. He felt like a prisoner, felt vulnerable and outnumbered and afraid...and today, unlike every other day, his resilience was lacking.

"Hi, guys," he sighed. Dagur snorted.

"Is that all you have to say, brother?" he taunted. Hiccup's eyes flicked up, forest green inspecting the menacing expression opposite him. Dagur's smile was humourless, like the grin of a shark and he pushed his plate away: suddenly, he had no appetite.

"I dunno. What do you want me to say?" he asked dully. Dagur leaned closer.

"Howsabout 'Dagur, I'm so sorry I stole your dragon. I will give him to you now and repent every day for the rest of my life.' That would do for starters!"

"Um...sorry...not gonna happen," Hiccup said quietly. "Toothless rejected you and chose me. He will never bond with you. So get over it..."

A hand shot across the table and grabbed his neck. He choked, emerald eyes snapping wide open, staring in shock and suffocated desperation. His hands clawed at the ruthless grip and his hand frantically clawed for any weapon...until he found the fork. Without hesitation-because his throat was sore and his vision was greying-he stabbed it as hard as he could into Dagur's wrist. The man screamed and snatched his hand back as Hiccup pulled away, desperately gulping in air and trying to breathe. Dagur stared at him with naked hatred.

"You little bastard!" he snarled. "I'll make you scream for that..." Hiccup shuddered at the threat, looking around in a silent plea for help from the other Riders...but the others merely watched, sipping coffee and silent as Dagur and his friends closed on the skinny teen. Hiccup scrambled back but Savage and Vorg hauled him forward once more.

"Dagur...please...no..." Hiccup begged him. "I..."

Their coms all sounded at once and the familiar voice of Colonel Gobber Belch, the Operations Chief sounded loud and clear. "Get yer lazy asses to Pen One now! Yer late!"

As one, the Riders moved...except the men restraining Hiccup. Seeing his witnesses all leave at speed had the boy trembling in fear as Dagur leaned close and smiled evilly...then flung Hiccup's breakfast straight in his face. Laughing, the men all rose and left Hiccup slumped forward, beans dripping from his hair, face and chest. For a long moment, the boy remained still...and then he automatically rose, wiping the excess food from his face. He quietly put his now-empty plate in the rack to be cleaned then walked wordlessly to the nearest bathroom, where he washed the beans from his face and hair before he sponged the beans from his clothes as best he could, stains of sauce still clearly visible despite his best efforts. Finally, running his hands through his soaked bangs, he turned to the door and began to trot down the stairs to the Pen level...and began the mile long trek the Pen One.

Despite running most of the way and getting a ferocious stitch in his side, he was late, the others staring at him with silent contempt. Gobber and his father-of course-were waiting, both wearing disappointed and condemning expressions.

"Yer late, Hiccup!" Gobber said, his eyes narrowing with exasperation. "And what happened ter ye?" Hiccup swallowed, his green gaze flicking across his fellow Riders-soldiers all, every man-and woman-standing at perfect attention. No one would own up and he already knew his father would disbelieve him if he explained what had happened-and then the Riders would kick lumps out of him later anyway.

"I...er...had an accident," he said softly.

"Speak up, boy!" the General snarled, his grey-green eyes remote and angry. Hiccup was a major disappointment to him, both as a skinny, lanky fishbone who bore an uncomfortable resemblance to his mother and was as unmilitary as it was possible to get and also as the person who ruined the project. Hiccup stared at the floor and his shoulders slumped.

"I had an accident," the teen said more loudly, his cheeks flaring with shame.

"Spilled his breakfast over himself, sir," Dagur supplied with suitable detachment.

"Gods, boy-can't you even eat without making a spectacle of yourself?" Stoick Haddock asked his son brutally. "How I ever ended with such a disaster for a son is beyond even the wit of the Gods!" Hiccup felt the words like a blow: today of all days, his father's disapproval was like a knife in his heart. Gobber paused, staring at the young man, humiliated and ostracised, and realised there was something else going on. Then he dragged his attention back to the present.

"Right," he sighed pointedly. "I'll have to go over the exercise again..."

oOo

[Fifteen Years Earlier]

"Again, Momma! Again!"

Three year old Hiccup was safely restrained in his car seat as his mother, Valka, smiled, her emerald green eyes checking her son in the rear view mirror. Hiccup was a bright, talkative and loving child, the son she had always wanted. Sure, he had been born early and small, but she was certain he would catch up with time and he more than made up with his intelligence, inventiveness and artistry. The boy certainly had a talent...but all her husband would talk about was how small her son was in comparison to his six year old cousin.

"Hiccup-we've sung that song three times already!" But her eyes were twinkling. Hiccup was determined and already strong-willed. He would persist until he got something right...and currently it was the nursery rhyme...

"But I wanna sing it again, Momma," he whined. "Please? PRETTY please? I promise I'll go to bed on time without any fuss tonight if we do!" She reached over and tweaked the CD player in the care.

"But this is the last time, honey," she said sternly. "Honestly, you'll know by heart..."

"I know, Momma," he murmured softly. "Okay..."

And then the car shuddered and jolted, the screeching of metal bending mixed with the shattering of glass and scream of the tyres. Valka screamed as the car was slammed sideways by an unseen impact and raced off the road, rolling as it hit the verge and tumbled down the ditch. A dark shadow raced by, engine receding in the distance.

And after the crashes and creaks had settled and the engine had died, Hiccup hung from his seat, his head hurting fiercely, something wet and sticky on his face. His arms and chest hurt badly as well.

"Momma?" he whimpered.

There was no answer from the shape hanging bloody and still from her seatbelt straps, long dark auburn hair strewn across her blood-streaked face. Her emerald eyes, always so reassuring and full of laughter, were closed.

"Momma?" The cry was more urgent, more desperate. Maybe Momma was asleep and just needed Hiccup to wake her? The scared little boy lifted his unfocussed eyes, concussion already scrambling his mind. But he had seen how Momma put him in and removed him from the seat, so his little hands determinedly fiddled with the belt fastening until it finally clicked free, dropping the badly injured child onto the back of the seat in front of him.

He rubbed his hands over his painful head and saw red smearing his little hand. Whining in pain, he lifted his bleary emerald gaze and began to crawl and scramble the agonising few yards to his restrained mother. "Momma...wake up," he whimpered. "My head hurts..." But she remained still.

Finally, he reached her, his small hands stretching for her still body. He shook her but she didn't respond, no arms reaching out to embrace the small boy. He was too young to notice the absence of breathing, the pallor of her lips, the cooling of her extremities as her corpse slowly stiffened. All he knew was that his mother was very deeply asleep and somehow, it had to be his fault. His Dad always said everything was his fault. Maybe if he hadn't asked for the song again, she wouldn't have steered them off the road and she would wake up. It had to be his fault.

"Please Momma...wake up," the critically injured boy whimpered, clinging to the corpse of his mother. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. Please...I won't ever ask to hear that song again...just please wake up..."

oOo

"WAKE UP!" Stoick snarled at him as his attention snapped back to the present. "Gods, do I have to treat you like some small child? You really are a disgrace to the project, to the base and to the Haddock name! PAY ATTENTION!" Hiccup looked up, his emerald gaze almost swimming with misery.

"Yes, sir," he mouthed, unable to speak without his voice breaking. His father never let his own civilian son call him 'Dad' while on the base-i.e. ever-and instead insisted on 'sir' or 'General'.

"What was that?" Stoick shouted at him furiously.

"Yes, sir," Hiccup managed hoarsely, his fists clenched at his side. There were sniggers. Gobber stared at the boy again then grumbled and opened the huge brushed steel doors to the Pen before the General could tear into his son again. The Colonel could tell there was something very wrong and the boy was more distracted than normal...but Stoick had, as usual, failed to notice anything about his son and was treating the skinny civilian as if he were a trained soldier. Gobber could see how destructive that was.

"Get on with the exercise!" the Colonel ordered and the Riders sped into the Pen. Hiccup was last, which was unusual of itself because of all the Riders, the teen loved his dragon. As the door closed behind them, the others turned their glares on the boy but Hiccup just lifted his head and gave a roar. They all stared at him in shock.

"Night Fury roar!" he said quietly. "Carries further than just shouting..."

"So we have to listen to you honk like a..." Snotlout began disparagingly.

A roar sounded and the sleek black shape of the Night Fury galloped into view, his acid green eyes wide and locked on his Rider. The others, who were closing on the boy backed away instantly as the dragon arrived at speed, warbling happily and bouncing like a very overgrown puppy. At just over a year old, Toothless was now as high as Hiccup's hip and fiercely protective, his sleek black shape powerful and lithe. The dragon nuzzled against him fiercely and the boy leaned forwarded hugged the blunt muzzle, resting his face against the warm scales.

"Hey, bud...so glad to see you today," he murmured and rubbed the dragon's chin affectionately. Then he lifted his green gaze and looked at the others. "I believe the General did command you all to call your dragons and begin basic flight exercises," he said evenly. They instantly glared at him but Toothless growled and they kept their distance from the young rider. With reluctance, the others fanned out and began calling their dragons, the cacophony of ten voices making every word unintelligible. Watching them for a moment, Hiccup sighed then retrieved the basic saddle he had built from his locker by the door and fastened it on carefully, with Toothless fidgeting and watching the others' failure. He rolled his eyes.

"Okay, bud...call 'em in!" he sighed and the young Night Fury roared. There were answering calls immediately and a young Monsterous Nightmare, Skrill, Deadly Nadder, Changewing, Zippleback, Razorwhip, Hobblegrunt, Rumblehorn and Gronkle all trotted up, happily reuniting with their Riders. There was a long moment until Toothless gave a small roar and all the dragons looked up, listening. "Saddle up, Riders," Hiccup ordered them clearly. "Exercise set one-I will begin while you are all getting ready!" And with that, he threw his leg over the young dragon and grinned, leaning forward. "Okay, bud-show 'em what you've got," he encouraged in a low voice.

With a roar, the Night Fury took off, the young dragon eager and strong. Hiccup held the saddle tightly, using his weight and his voice to encourage the dragon through the set of turns, flips and loops with perfect accuracy until he landed exactly on the spot he had left. For a moment, windblown and breathless, his eyes were sparkling and a smile lit his features.

"Rubbish!" sneered Snotlout. "I could do better with one arm tied behind my back."

"Prove it!" Hiccup challenged, his eyes glittering with annoyance. He knew the exercise had been executed perfectly but not one of them could ever bring themselves to congratulate him on a job well done. Snotlout immediately rose to the challenge and threw himself onto the neck of his russet and black Monstrous Nightmare his powerful fists clamped onto the horns as he commanded them into the air. Pen One was huge, with more than enough room for aerial manoeuvres...usually. The problem was that all their dragons were a year old and so were still growing and acting like teens themselves. Snotlout's dragon, Hookfang, was more trouble than most, a strong-willed and prank-filled dragon who delighted in humiliating his Rider. So there was no surprise when Hookfang refused the commands, dunked Snotlout in the small lake in the centre of the Pen and then threw him. Hiccup and Toothless were instantly in the air, catching the other Rider before he could crash to the floor from fifty feet. But as soon as Toothless gently placed the solider on the ground, he shook the dragon's paws off him.

"Get off me!" he shouted at Hiccup, his eyes furious. "You couldn't resist interfering, could you, Useless? I was doing fine and you had to show off! I suppose you want the General to pat you on the head like a good little boy and congratulate you for saving my life! Well you didn't! I don't need your help...EVER!"

Hiccup shrank away from the attack, his hands tightening on the saddle. It had been instinctive, seeing another person in danger and while he hadn't really expected thanks, fielding such abuse for his actions had really hurt. But he forced himself to reply, to not just take it like a coward.

"I'll tell Toothless, then? You can call your own dragon next time and see if he catches you," he shot back. Snotlout swung round, his fists bunched and lurched at the boy but the Night Fury growled fiercely.

"I can see why the General despises you!" Snotlout sneered. "If it had been up to me, I would never have brought you home! You are just a total mistake!"

oOo

[Fifteen Years Ago]

"I don't understand, Colonel," the doctor had said, his face furrowed with incomprehension. "Your son is finally fit to go home-and you don't want to take him? He NEEDS you, sir! He was critically injured in the accident where he lost his mother and he has made an excellent recovery...but he needs his familiar surroundings now..."

"I don't have anyone to care for him," Colonel Stoick Haddock had growled in exasperation. "My wife died in the crash, you realise."

"My condolences, sir. It must be a very difficult time for you both. And perhaps all the more reason why you should be spending it with your only son..." The Colonel cast the doctor a vicious look. Unfazed, the dark-skinned Paediatric Trauma Specialist leaned forward, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. His deep hazel eyes were filled with concern. "The boy needs his father."

"I am busy," the Colonel said coldly. "I don't have time to care for a child. Can't you keep him for a couple more weeks?" The doctor's expression slowly melted from gentle concern to something akin to disgust.

"Are you telling me," he said in a very careful voice, "that you do not want your son back? Because if that is the case, sir, I have no hesitation in contacting Children's Services! This is a three year old boy who has been involved in life-threatening trauma and lost his mother. He needs his family. He needs YOU! And I have no compunction in taking him from you if you fail to provide the support and care he needs!" Stoick glared, lurching forward a pace.

"Do you know who I am?" he growled.

"No-and I don't care," the doctor said angrily. "Hiccup is fit for discharge. So he goes with his father or with a social worker." Stoick turned away, his fists clenched.

"You don't understand," he ground out in a low, hate-filled voice. "He did it. He killed her."

"That's rubbish!" the doctor said, standing and brushing down his white coat. "The accident reports clearly show that the car was broadsided by another vehicle which led to them going off the road."

"How did you...?"

"In trauma, we always get reports of the accident to elucidate mechanism of injury and ensure all relevant injuries are uncovered or excluded," the doctor told him calmly. "I doubt a three year old caused that!"

"But he must have distracted her so she couldn't react to avoid the other car!" Stoick argued stubbornly, seemingly determined to lay all the blame at the door of his motherless son. "My Valka was an excellent driver. That boy is the reason why she didn't save herself!"

Sitting on his bed in the next room, the small auburn-haired boy clutched his knees to his chest and heard his father arguing to fiercely against taking him home, that it was all Hiccup's fault. His side, shoulder, arm, head and legs still hurt from the injuries but the nice doctor, Dr Graham, had said he was better enough to go home. Except his Dad didn't want him.

Come to think of it, his Dad never seemed to want him.

He had only seen his Dad once since the accident. He'd seen Uncle Gobber and Uncle Spitelout far more and Aunt Marsha had been really nice and visited most days. He wondered if he would have to go and live with Uncle Spitelout: that would mean being with Snotlout, his cousin, who was mean to Hiccup every time they got together...and now, Mom wasn't there to keep an eye on Hiccup and check he wasn't getting too bullied by his cousin.

Wait...Aunt Marsha had said she couldn't take him in even for a short time because they didn't have room and they were moving soon to a new Army base way down in New Mexico, too far from Dad to be practical.

So maybe he would have to go with the 'social worker'. Whatever that was. It sounded important. Maybe she was a nice person who would make Hiccup welcome and help him get over his Mom going away.

He wondered when his Mom would come back.

Maybe then, his Dad would want to see him again...