As he fell, only one thought stayed at the forefront of his mind. Again? As he crashed onto the cracked mead stained floor, the same thought persisted. As he blacked out from the pain originating from his skull, the last thing he thought was, Dad's going to kill me.

The first thing Hiccup sensed when he emerged from the blackness that had been his home for the past unknowable time was the voices. He heard his father, the chief of the tribe living in Berk arguing with Gobber the Blacksmith. Gobber was one of his Dad's oldest friends and also one of the only people who gave Hiccup any attention, (besides the times he messed up). It was that thought that triggered the influx of memories of the previous time he was conscious, which then sparked the question. Where was he? As he started to blearily look around he realized he was in his room, on his bed. While his brain was calculating these things, the argument, which Hiccup now realized was coming from the downstairs of his house, was still going on.

¨Gobber, he fell through the roof of the great hall, AND this is the third time he's messed things up for me and the village! And, that's just this week! One day he's gonna be the reason someone gets killed." After, saying this, Stoick fell quiet. Hiccup could guess what was going through his father's brain right now, and unbidden Hiccup remembered the time when he first had heard about his mother.

Both his father and Gobber had been drunk after a long raid leaving them both exhausted, and as they were talking Hiccup had come down to get some water, but had paused when he heard the conversation...

¨Aye, he's young, but you'll have to tell him sometime soon.¨

¨I know that Gobber *cough* but he's only 8, and he isn't old enough to need to know about his mother¨

There had only been silence for a bit, before Stoick softly said:

¨If only I had been faster, I could've saved Val. Its my fault¨

Hiccup had never seen Stoick sound so broken and vulnerable, which scared him. He went back to his room thirsty, his mind unable to comprehend what he had heard.

As he had grown older, he heard more snippets of conversations between villagers and people, and had eventually pieced together what had happened. His mother had been taken by a dragon trying to save him from it, and that made him suspect that the only reason Stoick had put up with him for this long was because of his duty to his dead wife, not as a living father. He had never told him what had happened that night, and Hiccup knew this to be the only weakness his father had; Him. He wasn't strong, or like any of the other kids his age. Instead, he was weak, useless, and always messing up. Stoick looked at him and was reminded of his two greatest failures, not being able to save his mother, and not being able to have a strong Viking child capable of being a heir to Berk.

As his thoughts spiraled like this whizzing about like a bunch of scared half-to-death chickens, the pain hit him with the force of a train. He groaned aloud and rolled over, burying his head into the sheets of his rock-hard bed. The somewhat more civil conversation downstairs quieted and Hiccups headache went down marginally, but the pain was still unbearable. As he slowly inched his arm upwards wincing sporadically from the magnified throbs from his head and sore arms, he felt a egg-sized bump on his head. That's gonna be there for a while. Satisfied he'd said this, he fell back into fitful sleep.

His dreams spiraled from one world to another, starting from his father looking at him with disappointment, followed by an approximation of his mothers face his consciousness had provided him with being carried into the sky by a black dragon with acid-green eyes. Strangely his mother didn't look scared and neither did the dragon look threatening. From there his mind took him to a short visit in the memory lane to where Fishlegs, one of his first friends and pretty much the only other Viking who somewhat had a brain, abandon him for the popular group of kids, comprised by the twins, Astrid, Astrid, and the worst of them all Snotlout. After this disheartening and confusing tirade of images and sensations his mind finally decided to wake him up using a giant dragon bigger than the mountain behind it, put into scale by a monstrous nightmare flying beside it, close its teeth around him. He jerked awake and after experiencing a brief moment of confusion he registered that it was a dream. He slowly fell back asleep.

The next morning as he slowly woke, still extremely sore from the fall the last night, he got up and limped over to the washing station. After painfully getting ready he made his way out into the kitchen and like usual he made his own tasteless breakfast. He made his way outside and after a moment of revaluation he realized he had no idea what he was going to do. He eventually decided that he would go over to the blacksmith and ask Gobber if he needed any help there. He knew it would be extremely painful, but anything to put of that inevitable conversation with his father would be fine with him. The decision made, he made his way over to the Blacksmith still wincing whenever his body decided to punish him with a second of pain. It took longer than usual as he took odd detours to avoid the glaring stares of the villagers the he knew would be sure to come. As he finally reached the blacksmith panting from both the effort to get there and the internal pain that came from his wounds, he opened the door. And there stood his father right in front of him covering the whole door with his 7 ft 4 inch frame.

Authors Note: (PLEASE READ AT-LEAST THIS ONE)- This is my first story, and the writing will improve. My updates will come every 1-7 days and if there wont be an update one week ill tell you guys. PLEASE COMMENT, it really helps out to encourage me to write updates faster and not quit. If I ever quit this story (which I doubt I will) Ill put it in the title and will tell you. Ill also try to find someone to finish the story. Once again please comment and review! :D. Cya later, happy reading!