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haljathefangirlcat · 3 years

Note

Okay, pls tell me about this: "heartfic au"

As you MAY have already guessed ;) it’s a fic inspired by @janiedean’s beautiful ASOIAF heartfics.

For those unaware: one day, an anon suggested Janie write an ASOIAF fanfic set in an AU where, after suffering too much pain and trauma, people’s hearts (represented by glowing spheres of light) may crack and bleed and, eventually, spontaneously disappear from their owners’ chest to reappear wherever their soulmate is. Said soulmate then takes care of the heart, trying to heal its wounds and/or stop its bleeding, until they’re finally able to give it back. And then, ofc, romance and (more) hurt/comfort ensue. I think the initial prompt was JB, because iirc that’s what the first heartfic was? But Janie also wrote similar fics about other ships, like Davos and his wife getting Stannis’ heart or Sansa getting Sandor’s.

Janie has said on a couple of occasion that she’s fine with other people using the same concept, since it was that anon who came up with it. I decided to write Arthurian fic about it because the whole idea was just screaming GALAHAD/MORDRED!!!! over and over at me.

Basic plot is “kid!Galahad gets a cracked, bleeding heart and figures it’s that of a damsel in distress he will have to save one day because ofc, he’s Miracle Boy and everything, but oh no, all the ballads say brave noble knights marry the damsels in distress whose hearts they heal, and he has to stay Pure to find the Grail!! ... but hey, maybe they can be just friends?? Then he grows up, goes to Camelot, starts this weird friendship (?) with Mordred as the two Local Subtly (Or Not So Subtly) Ostracized Awkward Prophesized Bastards Of Very Important People, and realizes it was never about a damsel at all. Cue DRAMA on both sides (”WAIT HOW DOES IT WORK DOES THIS MAKE IT BETTER OR WORSE I MEAN CAN WE HAVE LIKE A PLATONIC VIRILE FRIENDSHIP OR DO WE HAVE TO --” “OH GREAT I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH EVEN FOR MY GD SOULMATE NOW” and a bunch of other stuff) until Galahad leaves on the Grail Quest and experiences a lot of horrible shit until his own heart goes to Mordred to protect itself, proving they truly ARE meant to be together and prompting Galahad to refuse the Grail and ascending to Heaven (after a lot more internal turmoil, probably) so he can come back to him.”

Here’s a peek from a scene I’m particularly proud of:

As it turns out, he wasn’t lying.

Mordred can’t deny it as he stares at the thing Galahad took out of the chest under his bed, the thing that was in the leather pouch, the thing wrapped in wool like it was fragile and precious. The thing in Galahad’s hands, held gently, shivering like a branch in the wind, glowing like live coals, pulsating – no, not pulsating, beating.

The void in his chest longs for it, aches for it, covets it. No. No, it’s more than that. It’s not just desire but a need, a hunger. It makes him helpless before it, pulls him towards it like a riptide, and it’s all he can do to struggle against it and resist it, holding his arms rigid by his sides and not moving an inch from his position.

«It’s yours,» Galahad say, uselessly, and he opens and closes his mouth and lowers his gaze like he doesn’t know what else to say.

«Yes. It’s mine,» Mordred replies, just as uselessly. Then, after a moment, he adds: «Those are even my colors.» More because he’s just noticed than for any other reason. His bewildered tone probably makes his words sound even more foolish. But he won’t blame himself for that too much, not right now, because the first thing he noticed was the redness – the blood. The splotches of blood and the many, ragged scars. Hard to notice anything else, after seeing that.

His heart is an ugly thing. That’s not surprising, at all, but he chokes back bitter laughter all the same.

Galahad’s head whips back up at the sound, and he looks startled and a bit confused. «Uh. Ah, yes, that’s true. I hadn’t thought… or, mh, noticed…» He stops, frowning.

Right then, a thought strikes him like a slap across the face, part hope and part dread and entirely stupid. «Gaheris has silver and purple in his arms, too.» Mordred hesitates and bites his lip, feeling inexplicably like a child about to confide some secret that’s at once all too important and too silly to be exposed, and then continues: «Not only that, but the silver reminds me of Orkney’s sea in winter… and that purple, of a flower that blooms sometimes on the heaths near the sea. My brothers and I all used to play on the coast as boys. They already did it long before I was even born.» Another pause. «As for the flower, I think we all picked it for our mother at least once.» And now, its color is dirtied and muddled by bloodstains.

Galahad shakes his head. «I’ve never thought too much about what the colors might mean. But I’ve also never felt like it could belong to any of your brothers.» There’s a light flush on his cheeks, now, a thin note of something that’s almost stubbornness in his voice. Mordred is aware that he could use that to tease him.

He doesn’t feel like teasing him. «Still… how can you be so certain?»

Galahad blinks and then stares him right in the eye, and suddenly his chest is tight, full of something that itches and stings and prickles under the other man’s calm, blue gaze. «Aren’t you? Don’t you feel it’s your heart?»

He does. He does, and that’s just the problem. The itch grows more intense, more unbearable with every moment he keeps his mouth shut to avoid answering. He drops his gaze to the thing that’s still in Galahad’s hands, the thing that’s calling to him and only him and seems to be beating faster and brighter the more he looks at it and does nothing else, almost like it’s yelling at him in its own way for making it wait so long.

«What if I don’t want it,» he says, and his voice sounds rough and weak to his own ears.

«Why wouldn’t you want it?» Galahad asks that like he honestly can’t think of any reason why, like this is the first time anyone in the whole world has ever said anything like what Mordred, not-so-secret bastard prince and prophesized kingslayer and kinslayer of Camelot, has just said. Maybe it is. He’s pretty sure he’s never heard any songs about any beleaguered damsel who simply told the dashing hero at the foot of her dreary tower, oh no, my good sir, you may keep it, I was fine without it and I will not need it anytime soon.

But Mordred is not a vulnerable maiden or locked up against his will and at the mercy of a cruel brother or uncle or eagerly waiting to be rescued since he was half his current height, so he steels himself and tries again: «What if I’m just fine the way I am now? What if I don’t need it, after all? I’ve spent years not feeling anything, I’m used to it.»

He looks up in time to catch the flash of naked hurt that crosses Galahad’s fine features, briefly replacing startled incredulity before it turns into barely concealed worry. «Are you sure?» Then, he seems to really think about it… and the fingers of his right hand start stroking the thing, lightly and unthinkingly. «I… I can imagine something has happened that you may not want to remember. Maybe you’ve felt things you don’t want to feel again. But is this really better? Would you really keep living like this?»

The spark of anger mixed with spite that flares up in his gut – at Galahad’s questioning and his assumptions that he can imagine and that he knows what living like this is like, those soft caresses that feel so impossibly familiar and intimate when at most they should be irritating or even disturbing in their presumptuousness, the way he feels himself ache for entirely new reasons – tempts him to say that yes, he would, and yes, this is better. It has to be. Has to be better than this ridiculous, confusing, terrible mess that Galahad’s dragged him into. Had he never come to Camelot, or least, had he never come to him with truths that sounded like bad jokes and his honest, open gaze and their stupidly engaging arguments and the quiet evenings spent together hiding away from everyone else and…

«Aren’t there things you’d like to feel? For your family, or your friends, or…»

Mordred sighs. There were lots of things, back when he had first given up his heart and spent his every waking moment wishing to get it back somehow. That was years ago, though, and after some time had passed and he had finally figured out that wishing never helped with anything, all of them had started to seem less desirable, less important… just, less. They didn’t matter anymore, and so he didn’t want them then and doesn’t want them now. And yet… it seems foolish to even think about it, like he’s slipping back into stale old fantasies and half-forgotten, senseless hopes, but… maybe there are a couple of new things, now.

He sighs again, this time trying for a slightly exasperated but mostly careless tone, and holds his hands out in front of him as soon as he’s sure they’ve stopped shaking. He swallows and says: «Alright, I think I’ll give it a try. But know that I might just throw it out again and then you’ll be stuck with it.» He tells himself that he’s not afraid. He is, of course, but he’s such a convincing liar, he knows he can convince himself. It can’t be too hard, right?

Galahad grimaces, and that’s not too encouraging, even if he’s quick to school his features before he slowly, almost gingerly reaches his hands out to him, too. Mordred has half a mind to snap at him and say, look, I was only jesting, I’m not saying you’ll really have to keep it or that I’d care if you left it on the wayside or threw it into a well, but then he worries that the bile might blend with actual pity and so he says nothing except for: «How am I supposed to do this, then?» The songs, of course, skip the boring technical details.

Galahad fits the glowing sphere between his palms like he’s putting a newborn into the cradle, touches his fingers to make them curl over it as if he’s afraid he’ll drop it. The sphere is light as a breath, yet somehow solid, and warm like a living thing… which it truly is, all things considered, although that thought still feels a little absurd. Galahad’s skin is warm, too. «I’m not sure,» Galahad admits. «I’ve… never done this before.»

«Yeah, well, neither have I.»

#wip meme #my fic #otp: whether sinner or saint #lordhellebore #ask

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forever--darling · 4 years

Text

not too far away - s.m. (part seven)

a/n: where he calls and she comes running to his rescue

warnings: 6.7k words of drunk shawn, upset reader, and an anxiety attack

VII. bottle of gin

him

The next morning, Shawn woke up the harsh stream of sunlight hitting him in his eyes. Sometime last night after he downed a couple more beers, he crashed onto his mattress that still hadn’t been put into the bed frame so it was just lying on the wood floor. The curtains hadn’t been put up and the large windows that peered across his wall let the morning city light shine in. At first, he laid still, eyes scanning the room for a few seconds before he remembered that this was his new apartment. Noticing his phone on the floor next to the mattress, he picked it up to check the time and let out a groan at it reading eight o’clock.

He slowly peeled himself off of the plump white mattress, that only had a blanket thrown across it at the moment, and began to make his way towards the kitchen. His sweats were hanging low on his hips and his hair was tousled and messy. Shawn was already feeling the after-effects of having those extra couple beers the night before. His head was throbbing and his stomach felt like it couldn’t stop turning. He felt dizzy and as he went to rub his eyes he almost failed to notice the broken glass that sprawled across the floor. The glass bottle he had knocked over the night before still lay in pieces, the beer now dried and sticky on the new floor meaning it was going to be a pain for him to scrub later.

Sighing, Shawn stepped over the mess and approached his fridge to grab a bottle of water, which was all that seemed to be in there at the moment. He took the cap off and began to swig down the drink, the coolness traveling down his throat. Collapsing onto one of the bar stools, he looked at his phone again now looking at all the texts he had received from his mom, friends, and sister. None of which read Y/N’s name. He let out another sigh but took interest in Aaliyah’s text that had been sent only minutes prior to Shawn waking up.

It read, “About to leave with Y/N for a shopping day at the mall. I don’t know what you did but thank you, Shawn, because I couldn’t be any happier to have her back. Love you and probably see you later!”

He smiled lightly at the message because though he had yet to know the truth clearly him and Y/N making up put a huge impact not only on him but his family. He had never seen his parents so happy besides there family dinners where they would go to the Y/L/N house or they would go to theirs. Everything was back to the way it was and the person that seemed the happiest about that besides Shawn was Aaliyah. She had held onto the hope that Y/N would come back and she did and here she was now about to spend the day with the younger Mendes. Aaliyah had gotten her big sister figure back and he knew that if things didn’t work out between him and Y/N that was the one positive about this whole thing.

Sending a simple, “love you too and have a great girl’s day” back Shawn swiped off of Aaliyah’s name and clicked on Y/N’s being met with their messages from the day before. He smiled as he went to type, “sorry about last night. Have a fun day with Aaliyah, we’ll talk later.”

But as he went to send it, something in Shawn pulled him back and instead he deleted it locking his phone. He dropped the black device onto the counter and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. So far he knew his day would be spent finishing the spare bedroom furniture, putting his mattress into his bed frame, and unpacking boxes. Turns out that wouldn’t be the only thing he’d be doing when his phone vibrated against the counter with another message. This one not from his sister or Y/N, which he hoped, but instead his friend Brian.

“Hey man, heard you were back in town. Some of the guys and I want to get drinks tonight and think you should join. You in?” It said.

His fingers began to tap against his kitchen counter as he stared at the message. It took him a few seconds before his thumbs began to hover over the keyboard and type a reply back. “I have a better idea. Party at my new apartment tonight. I’ll send you the address. Spread the word.”

Hitting send, he knew there was no going back but either way he didn’t really care because though he was a little hungover he desperately wanted to continue to wash his problems away with the comfort that came with shots or a bottle of gin.

her

“So what are we doing first?” Aaliyah asked excitedly bouncing up and down in the passenger seat as she buckled herself in.

You sent her a look, crossing your fingers, hoping that it would be okay, “Well I was thinking the mall but if you don’t like the idea we can find something else.”

“No,” she smiled, “The mall is perfect.”

“Good because your mom said you needed to find a dress for some dance,” you continued pulling your sunglasses down from your head, relieved that they didn’t get caught in your hair.

“Oh yeah, I do. I almost forgot,” Aaliyah chuckled to herself, “The dance is only a week and a half away.”

“Really, are you excited?” you asked as you pulled out of the Mendes driveway and began to make your way towards the mall that happened to be around a fifteen-minute drive.

“Yeah, I guess,” she sighed slumping in the passenger seat.

You chuckled, “You guess? What do you mean you guess? Karen said that you were looking forward to it since the boy that you liked asked you to go with him.”

She nodded beginning to twirl a piece of her hair around her finger, “I was excited at first because I mean he is really cute and I like him so nothing sounded better than a night spent dancing with my friends and him.”

“Then what is it, Aaliyah?” you asked sending her a glance before turning back towards the road, “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just now I would rather spend the night with you and Shawn. Even James if he was off work.”

You sighed, “Aaliyah.”

“It’s just, I feel like we have so much more to catch up on and when it’s the four of us it feels like the old times. Nothing sounds more perfect to me honestly because for the longest time I thought I’d never get to see you again… or like this I mean.” A small frown was placed on the girl’s lips and you couldn’t feel much more guilt than you had at that moment and knew you would eventually have to tell her the truth.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Her eyes moved towards you and a sad smile lifted at the corners of her lips, “You don’t have to say that.”

“I do though,” you admitted fingers tapping at the steering wheel, “I was going through some stuff after your brother left and I just needed some time to myself. To figure some things out but I should’ve never handled the situation with you and your parents like that. I’m sorry and I want you to know how much I love you and your family. Plus, it looks like I’m not going anywhere anytime soon so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh no,” Aaliyah said sarcastically with a wide smile, as she lifted her hand to you, pinky up, “Promise?”

Giving her your right pinky, you locked it around hers, “Promise.”

You turned your attention back towards the roads that you always used to take to get to the mall those few years ago but when you thinking that silence was going to finally set in and the radio would be turned up, Aaliyah’s voice broke through the air again. “Okay, so now that that’s settled I think there are some things we need to talk about.”

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled raising an eyebrow, “What things?”

“Just you know things that involve my tall dorky singing brother, “ she paused eyeing you, “That you seem to be spending a lot of time with.”

“Oh god,” you groaned peeking towards Aaliyah to see her grinning towards you.

She turned sideways in the passenger seat, loosening her seat belt, “Yeah so I’ve been thinking.”

“Really, you’ve been thinking. About what, may I ask,” you felt your stomach start to shake with nerves and your hands grip tightly to the steering wheel. You had a feeling that whatever she was about to ask about Shawn wasn’t going to be good.

“Well, it’s just you and Shawn…” she stopped.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes.”

“I think the two of you-”

“Ahh, stop,” you cut her off not wanting to hear her finish her sentence afraid that you might admit to the minor crush that had formed on Shawn over the past week or so.

She didn’t care about your sudden need to change the subject because you and her both knew that what you were feeling about Shawn was way past the line of friendship, “What? I just want to know if you-”

You cut her off again, “We are not talking about this.”

“What why?” she asked her smile widening at the blush that was forming on your cheeks, “Is there something you aren’t telling me about Shawn.”

A nervous laugh passed your lips and you knew that she could sense that it was fake, “We’re not going to talk about this. Let’s talk about… your dress. What kind of your dress are you thinking of getting?”

Your face felt hot and you knew that it probably looked red and the smug grin that was on Aaliyah’s face gave away that she could see it. Mentally kicking yourself, you knew that there was a one hundred percent chance that by the end of your girl’s day Aaliyah would find out about your not so innocent thoughts and feelings about your best friend.

It was now the afternoon and it had taken you to visit four stores before Aaliyah had eventually found the perfect dress. It was a white short sleeveless dress that fell to above her knees. The top was lace with a sparkling silver belt around her waist sitting above where her bottom skirt flared out. It was perfect and Aaliyah had jumped with glee at the sight. After the long couple of hours spent looking for the dress, you two had become hungry. You had found yourselves in the food court where you had collapsed at one of the tables and ordered two sandwiches with a basket of fries. Now the baskets were empty and in its place where two cones of ice cream in your hand and Aaliyah’s. You two were silent in the middle of the food court that was erupting with voices, enjoying the treat you had gotten.

That silence once again didn’t last that long though because Aaliyah’s curiosity was still burning strong. “This last week you and Shawn have been inseparable.”

Your eyes locked onto her who had continued eating her ice cream like she hadn’t spoken at all. “Yeah well Aaliyah if you haven’t noticed I haven’t seen my best friend in four years.”

“Ha yeah except what I walked in on at dinner the other day looked like more than just friends.”

Your throat became dry and you couldn’t swallow the lump that was forming knowing that she was more than right, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, bud. Shawn and I have always been just friends and it will stay that way.”

She had you right where she wanted you and you couldn’t think of anything to say except the truth.

“Sure,” she chuckled, “You know you should just tell him. He’s as crazy about you as you are about him.”

“Going in one ear out the other, Li,” you smiled taking a lick from the cone.

She laughed again, “You’re impossible you know that. What are you so afraid of? I don’t get it you two have had that look in your eyes towards each other since the seventh grade maybe even before that.”

Shaking your head, you quirked an eyebrow, “Don’t you think we should be talking about this boy that’s taking you to the dance and not Shawn.”

“Why would we have to talk about Jake when we already know that I like him. Shawn on the other hand, we should find out how you feel about him,” she had stopped eating her ice cream at this point too occupied with the conversation you were having.

“Okay, and that’s enough,” you replied beginning to stand from your seat at the table, “Let’s go I have a few more things we can do before I return you home. Your parents won’t mind if your home a little late will they?”

“First of all, this conversation isn’t over,” she paused sticking her finger up towards you as she followed suit standing from her chair, “Second of all, we both know they won’t care because I’m with you.”

You smiled, “This conversation is over. Now come on.”

The rest of the day had gone to plan. You had gone to the movies to see the new chick flick Aaliyah had been dying to see and then after that went to your favorite bowling place you usually went with Shawn to have pizza and get a lane. Let’s just say Aaliyah was better at bowling than the older Mendes was. By the time you had gotten into the car and began to make your way back to the house, it was around eleven o’clock. As soon as Aaliyah had buckled herself into the passenger seat and her head fell back against the cushioned headrest she had fallen asleep. It had been a long day. It was fun but it was long so it wasn’t a shock that she was so tired because you were just as tired. Not able to take the silence, you turned the radio on letting the soft music of the radio station fill your ears. After a while you soon found yourself humming along under your breath exactly like Shawn would if he was in the car.

You sighed at the thought of him. You really should text him, you thought to yourself. Last night was never supposed to end like it had but it did. He had tried to once again find out the truth before you were ready and you did what you knew best. Ran. He was frustrated and you knew that but you just weren’t ready. You at least shouldn’t have left that was a dick move. Maybe he was still awake, who were you kidding, of course, he was still awake. Shawn was always awake late into the night either writing down song lyrics or playing video games like a normal twenty year old boy would.

If you were with him right now, you would probably be sat on the couch next to him, legs sprawled across his lap, watching as he screamed at the TV if he lost. It would be a sight. His curls would be messy and no doubt have a pair of sweatpants adorning his bottom half as a tightly fitted tee would be molded around his perfect torso. You were practically drooling at the thought and thanked God that Aaliyah was asleep because if she wasn’t she would have easily noticed it.

Finally, at eleven twenty-three, you had pulled into the Mendes driveway Aaliyah still sound asleep next to you. Putting the car in park, you shook her shoulder and she began to stir in response, “Aaliyah, we’re here.”

The girl sat up in the passenger seat and began to rub her eyes as they set sight onto her house that stood with the lights still on waiting for her to come home. A lazy smile pulled at her lips. “Thank you, for today.”

“Of course, we’ll do it again sometime okay?” you smiled back at her as she began to lean over the car console to pull you into a hug. She nodded pulling away to reach for the handle on the door. “And have a good time at your dance.”

You added handing her the plastic bag that contained the dress she would be dancing the night away in. Her eyes widened at your words in confusion though. “I’ll see you before then though right?”

You laughed, “Yeah probably but just in case. Now go and get some sleep.”

“Okay, we’ll talk later,” Aaliyah replied as she popped open the door and stepped out.

She closed the door behind her and as she made her way towards the front door of the house, she stopped to send you a small wave over her shoulder. You waved back and waited until she was inside before you decided to pull out of the driveway. As you went to put the car in reverse though, your phone stopped you. It was ringing with that ringtone that was only for Shawn. Taking a deep breath, you placed the phone against your ear and answered.

“Hey,” your heart had lifted and you felt a smile forming on your lips but that started to drop as he answered.

“Heyyyy, Y/NNN,” His words were slurred. Had he been drinking?

As he went quiet on the other line that’s when you were able to take notice of the loud music in the background and the many other voices. “Shawn where are you?” you asked.

“At mmy apartment. Where elseee,” he chuckled.

You began to tug on your short locks anxiously, “What’s going on. Why is it so loud.”

“I'm throwing a partyyy. T-That’s why I’m callinggg,” he chuckled again, “I w-was hoping y-you’d come over. Weee both know the party isn’t the same w-without you h-here.”

You tugged at your hair letting out a frustrated groan, “I’m on my way. Just don’t do anything stupid okay.”

“For youu. Of coursee,” his voice slurred again and as you hung up the phone you could hear someone calling out for Shawn.

You were in Pickering and his apartment was in the city which meant another forty-minute drive. This was starting to become an everyday thing and you weren’t sure if you could deal with that but you knew if it was for Shawn you would go anywhere for him.

him

Shawn knew he was drunk. Really drunk. He knew because he was to the state where he could barely form coherent sentences and he was swaying on his feet. And he felt like if he drank any more his stomach would explode yet even when that feeling formed he didn’t put the gin bottle down. Instead, he just gripped it in his hand tighter as he stumbled around the apartment that was once clean. Chatter filled the room, and the bass from the music made the floors shake a little. He was supposed to be DJing but after around the first half hour he got sick of clicking through songs and just queued up a playlist for the rest of the night so he could get a drink.

As he made his way into the living room, he swayed slightly at the feeling of a hand clasping around his shoulder. Looking towards his left, he found Brian. “Shawn, buddy, you down for a round of shots? A bunch of us are going to do one.”

Brian wasn’t in as bad of a shape as Shawn clearly. In fact, Brian wasn’t even drunk… yet at least. No for the last hour or so he had been nursing some beers but as soon as people started to arrive, Shawn downed a couple rounds of tequila shots and then snatched the gin from his kitchen cabinet he had bought that afternoon. Shawn was shitfaced and with one look his way anyone could see that but no one knew why so fast or why he wasn’t his usual happy laughing self that drunk Shawn usually was. Nope, he was sulking and not enjoying the party he had hosted.

Shawn’s hand raised lazily showing the gin bottle in his hand, “Nahhh, I’m okayy.”

Just as he was going to wander off, the grip on his shoulder tightened. The redhead had a worried look in his eye, “Don’t you think you should slow down.”

“No, I’m fineee,” Shawn shook off Brian’s hand and in doing so almost fell.

“I think you should-” before Brian could finish his sentence he was cut off by the loud banging coming from the front door. It didn’t sound like a normal knock of someone wanting to join the party, it sounded like someone who was angry.

“I’ll get that,” Brian said.. As the redhead began to make his way towards the front door, Shawn slumped against the wall he was standing by, his bottom lip puffing out into a pout.

Brian answered the door and though the music was loud, Shawn could hear the voice of the person who was in the hallway loud and clear. “Brian, where is he?”

“Y/N, hi, it’s been so long,” Brian replied happily but only got pushed aside as she forced her way into the apartment that was overflowing with people.

“I didn’t come to catch up, Brian. I came to see Shawn,” she said annoyed.

He could make her out in the edge of the kitchen from where he stood against the wall. Her hair was in that half up half down look, he loved so much. She was dressed in a pair of black jeans with a white shirt and jacket. No doubt probably having just gotten done with her girl’s day when he had called. He admired her from where he stood, not able to find the words to call out to her. He didn’t have to though because as her large Y/E/C eyes scanned the room they finally landed on him at the very edge. Shawn watched as her shoulders slumped in relief at his shitfaced state.

Y/N pushed her way through the crowd not caring about the glares she was getting from those she shoved aside. She stopped in front of him and her palm had instantly found its way to his flushed cheek. One side effect that alcohol did to Shawn, made his cheeks rosier than they were on an average day.

Shawn leaned into her touch as he stared down at her frazzled form, “You’re hereee.”

“Of course I’m here you drunk idiot,” she said pushing that single curl that flopped onto his forehead out of his face.

“I-It’s just after l-last night. I didn’t t-think you’d comeee,” he sighed falling forward as he tried to lean closer to her.

She held his arm steadily as his head bumped into hers. He began to laugh that drunken laugh and it was then that she noticed the bottle of gin in his hand. A frown found its way onto her lips. Taking the bottle from his hand, she placed it down onto a table near them before she began to lead him down the hallway towards his room, “Come on, Shawn.”

She had never seen him drunk before so this was all new for her. His arm was wrapped around her and she was having trouble supporting his weight but she still managed to get him into the master bedroom. It was full of boxes but the room was so big the boxes only took up a small corner. His mattress was finally in the metal bed frame with a white comforter thrown across the top. Pulling him over towards the bed, she sat him down and Shawn held onto her hip to stop him from falling back onto the mattress. “The party is still going onnn,” he whined.

“Yeah, well for you it’s not,” Y/N replied walking over towards the dresser Shawn had put together the day before. She pulled out a pair of black sweatpants and dropped them onto the bed next to him.

“Y/N, I have to hostttt,” he argued pulling her closer in between his legs much like he had days ago in his childhood bedroom.

“I’ll take care of everything,” she whispered stroking his cheek, “You need to rest. I’ll get you some water and you are going to drink all of it and then crawl into bed. The bathroom is only a few steps away if you need it.”

Shawn hummed, his eyes starting to droop as she spoke. They widened though at the feeling of her fingers reaching his belt. His head lolled down to see her hands undoing his black belt that was wrapped around his waist. At first, he didn’t comment on it but he couldn’t help himself when he felt her pulling his black jeans down his legs.

“Geez, Y/L/N if youuu wanted to get meee naked you could’ve just askeddd,” he teased feeling his pants drop to his ankles and slide off of him altogether.

“In your dreams, Mendes,” she replied beginning to pull the sweatpants onto his lower half.

Though it was meant to be in the same bubbly tone that he had spoken. Shawn could hear that it wasn’t. She was upset and though since the moment she had gotten here she had been nothing but sweet to him, he knew that she was not happy. Probably because he threw this party and got drunk because of their small disagreement and then called her to come take over to host and clean up the mess later as he puked his insides out. He was sure that if she wasn’t mad at him for the night before she definitely was mad at him now.

“Are y-you u-upset?” he asked suddenly sounding like a child.

“Yes, Shawn, I am but let’s not worry about that right now,” she said tying the strings of his sweatpants, “I’ll be right back.”

Shawn nodded and watched as she retreated towards the door and it was right as she was closing it behind her that he felt his stomach turn and started to make a run for his clean new bathroom.

her

You mumbled a small bye to the last remaining guests of the party who were swaying from side to side as they left Shawn’s apartment. It was nearing three in the morning and you felt like you were going to die of exhaustion. Maybe you were exaggerating but at that moment that’s how you actually felt. For the next half hour, you spent the time cleaning up his apartment though you had no reason to since it was his party and his apartment, but you did it anyways knowing he would be too hungover to do it in the morning. Knowing that you should probably check on him, after hearing him make a run for the bathroom as you left, you trudged down the hallway until you were in front of his bedroom door. You opened it and walked in to find a Shawn Mendes asleep and sprawled across his bed, shirtless and sweatpants slipping down his waist.

You were mad, of course, you were. Brian had not only let Shawn throw a party at his new apartment but hadn’t been keeping an eye on him and if you hadn’t been there he might have drunk himself into the hospital. You weren’t sure if this was normal for him. If he usually drank this much until he passed out or if this was the first time he tried. Either way, you didn’t want to know. Deciding you were going to stay the night, in case Shawn ended up being sick again or needed anything, you knew that you would leave sometime in the morning before you would have to have a conversation about the party. You weren’t in the mood to talk about it because it made you mad just thinking about it and if He couldn’t see why it made you upset there was a chance you would have another argument. You couldn’t deal with that which is why you were going to leave before he woke up.

Walking over to the side of the bed, you smiled at the sight of Shawn’s face being pressed into his pillow only showing half of it. Curls splayed across his forehead and his lips pushed out with small breaths passing by them. And at that moment you knew that Aaliyah was right, Loretta was right, and most importantly Demi was right. You had feelings for this boy that went deeper than friendship and at the very minute, you couldn’t find any excuses to deny that.

The next morning you had done exactly what you had said the night before. After sleeping by Shawn’s side on a small couch in his room, you made sure he was doing okay before you slipped out of his room and apartment without a sound. You had a morning shift to go to for work before a class and you knew if he questioned why you weren’t there in the morning you would use that excuse. Stopping at your apartment for a few minutes, you showered and changed before heading off to work a three-hour shift and then have to head to an hour and a half lecture. The whole day you had been getting texts and calls from Shawn but you ignored every single one like you were sixteen again and had just found out you were sick. It made you feel guilty but you knew if he wanted to talk and fix this small tension that had formed he would.

It was around dinner time when you had stumbled back to your apartment on the phone with your mom who was asking if you were coming home to have dinner with them and the Mendes since it was your family's turn to host. You explained that you had a very long day and weren’t feeling like commuting forty minutes to have to return in the morning. She understood but then asked if Shawn was with you because he wasn’t going to be returning home for dinner either. You didn’t want to worry your mother with your small fight if you could even call it that, and instead just said that he probably had some things to do with his apartment.

After a little more convincing you had gotten her to hang up and you collapsed onto your couch with a sigh. Your phone continued to buzz with text messages. You didn’t even have to look to know it was Shawn. You ignored it and it was then you felt like you were having a flashback to four years ago and felt your heartbreak inside your chest.

Soon the buzzing stopped and you grew worried. Thinking once and for all he was done with you. It made you scared beyond belief that you started to reach for your phone but stopped at the harsh knocking that sounding outside your door. It sounded frantic and like whatever was on the other side was important. You jumped from your spot on the couch and hurried towards the door. Hand gripped tightly around the doorknob, you pulled it open to be met with a sight like the one you hadn’t seen since you were fifteen years old.

There Shawn was stood. Clothes wrinkled, curls looking like he had been tugging on them and amber eyes wide with worry. There was a sheet of sweat across his forehead and his nostrils were flaring like he wasn’t able to breathe right. He was gripping onto the doorway because it was the only thing keeping him upright. He closed his eyes for a second like he was trying to calm himself down but it wasn’t working. His breathing only became worse to the point where he was starting to hyperventilate. His face was starting to turn red and tears were forming in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” he was barely able to get his words out and you felt all anger fade away at the distressed Shawn before you.

He had always had a problem with anxiety and so did you. You were able to help each other through it but because you hadn’t been around each other in years you hadn’t seen him have an attack in a long time. You hated seeing him this way and even worse hated being the person to cause this.

“P-Please don’t i-ignore me,” he choked out, “please.”

Taking both of his arms, you pulled him into your apartment and started to feel tears of your own forming at his broken state. You stared at him rubbing soothing circles into his forearms as his breathing ceased to slow down.

“I-I need you,” he cried hand reaching for your waist.

Without another second to waste, you pulled him into your arms. He gripped onto you tightly as your arms winded around his neck, your fingers beginning to run through the curls at the back of his head. You could feel the way his chest continued to move rapidly up and down against yours and his tears that were starting to soak the sleeve of your shirt. His uneven breaths being heard in your ear. “Shh,” you cooed.

You held him and did multiple things to try and calm his state that would usually work like speaking quietly into his ear or taking slow steady breaths. You even placed a kiss at the base of his neck to gain some sort of reaction but nothing worked. He was still hyperventilating and you needed to get him to stop. It’s then that it came to mind. The one thing you would always do when you were having an attack or feeling anxious. It was the only thing that could ever calm you down when you were in this state.

At first, you just started humming. The notes sounding effortless since you had heard this song on repeat millions of times. You felt Shawn go stiff in your arms and you knew he instantly recognized the song too.

“Hey, I know there are some things we need to talk about. But I can't stay. Just let me hold you for a little longer now,” you began to sing quietly, “Take a piece of my heart. And make it all your own. So when we are apart. You'll never be alone.”

Within a minute, Shawn’s breaths began to slow down and his grip had loosened from around you. He was taking deep breaths in and out, and you knew he was solely focused on your voice. You continued to stroke the back of his neck as your voice became quieter and quieter with each lyric because it was working. He was no longer hyperventilating and his whole body wasn’t shaking either. Your tears were dried against your cheeks at this point and your eyes were shut tightly hoping that his attack wouldn’t start up again. Sighing into the feeling of him giving you a soft squeeze the last few words fell from your lips in a whisper, “You’ll never be alone.”

Shawn stood still in your arms for a few more minutes before he slowly unwrapped himself from around you. His eyes were bloodshot and his face red, curls falling in his eyes. He stared at your mouth open in shock and amber eyes staring at you utter confusion. You brought your hand up to his neck where your thumb began to trace his jawline a smile lifting at your lips.

“It’s the only thing that’s ever made me feel better during an attack,” you explained feeling Shawn’s warm hand splayed across your lower back.

He didn’t say anything. How could he? His voice was probably raw from crying and trying to swallow the lump that was in the back of his throat. Plus who would want to talk right away after having an attack? If it were you wouldn’t have and you knew Shawn didn’t either. So it was okay that he didn’t say anything at your reply because the smile that started to form on his lips was enough of an answer that you needed. And you swore as you saw his white teeth poking out behind his lips, your heart skipped a beat.

It had only taken minutes before you and Shawn relocated to your couch. After the attack, his eyes began to droop and all energy had disappeared like it usually did after these. Because of that and how emotional he clearly still was, you refused to send him home and knew it would probably be best if he just stayed with you. That’s how you ended up laying under a sleeping Shawn Mendes.

Your legs were tangled with his and his arms were wrapped around your waist with his head laying across your stomach. One of your hands splayed across his upper back rubbing up and down while the other held a book you had been reading for a couple of weeks. You could feel his steady breathing against your stomach and you couldn’t help that turning of your insides at having him this close to you. Of being able to feel his body heat warming up your cold legs and the beating of his heart against your thigh. The whole thing was overwhelming to the point where you had been stuck on the same page for three minutes rereading it, hoping the words would settle in your mind. You were about halfway down the page when your phone buzzed from the coffee table next to the couch. Saving your place in the book, you closed it and tossed it onto the table and took your phone finding a message from Demi.

That’s when you remembered that she was supposed to be stopping by to grab a shirt she had left at your apartment days prior. You said that she could because that was before you knew you would be caught tangled up with Shawn on your couch.

“Hey can I head up?” the text read.

You knew it was too late and you couldn’t just make up an excuse to make her go away. She was going to make comments about the position you were in but honestly, you couldn’t care less.

“Yeah, it’s unlocked so just let yourself in,” you replied.

Let herself in, she did. After minutes of drawing letters onto Shawn’s back out of your nerves, the front door of your apartment opened before slamming shut. Demi called out towards you and you cringed hoping it hadn’t woken Shawn up but he remained still against your frame. Demi was about to call out again but her voice got caught in her throat when her eyes finally fell on you on your couch. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed.

You shook your head and lifted your pointer finger to your lips to tell her to be quiet. She walked further into the room and stared down at you and Shawn eyes wide. Her purse dropped to the floor and her gaze kept moving from sleeping Shawn to you. You were waiting for her to say something, anything and the suspense was killing you.

Finally, she opened her mouth, “Did you-”

She didn’t finish though upon noticing you shaking your head already knowing the question she was going to ask. She gave you a displeasing look as you continued to rub your hands along Shawn’s back, able to feel the warmth through his shirt.

“Shit, you’re really in love with him,” she whispered falling into a chair across from the couch.

And as you looked away from Demi back towards Shawn whose hands were knotted into your shirt you knew that one hundred percent without a doubt, she was right.

next part

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #my writing #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes angst #shawn x reader #shawn x y/n #shawn x you #shawn #mendes

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p-artsypants · 6 years

Text

The Pit

Sorry guys, it’s WHUMP TIME. This is the aftermath, so there’s not any infliction happening. But it’s still…prretttyyyyy dark. Read at your own risk.

Oh great @evilwriter37 I offer you this piece of whump! (This is as dark as I can get, and I’m pretty sure it’s mild compared to your stuff.)

FF.net | Ao3

—

Pre-Hiccstrid RTTE

—

He had been taken two months ago. And every day, every hour since was spent trying to find him and come up with a plan to rescue him.

The hunters had come in the middle of the night. Quiet, unseen, silent. They snuck into Hiccup’s hut on the Edge. Toothless hadn’t even noticed. But the next morning, Hiccup was missing, and there was no sign of struggle.

Snotlout had brought up the idea, “Well, what if he just go overwhelmed with his responsibilities and flew the coop?”

That idea was quickly dismissed since Toothless remained.

A month and a half out, and they finally had the ‘who’ and ‘where’ as a rough dingy arrived on the Edge, with a ragged and beaten bloody Viggo on board. He looked like he was barely alive.

But Astrid took no chances. Acting in Hiccup’s stead, she ordered Viggo’s wounds to be checked, and then had him tied up in the clubhouse with constant surveillance.

As time went on, they found it completely baffling that he cooperated with their every demand, and only asked for water and rest in return. Finally, when he appeared well enough to speak, Astrid asked. “What are you doing here?”

He answered with a shuttering breath, and met her eyes with that steely confidence he always held, but it lacked threat. “I don’t blame you for being cautious, after what happened to Hiccup, I’m sure you’re on edge.”

She crossed her arms and frowned at him, daring him to test her patience.

“We’ve both picked our sides, Astrid. And we both thought we were right. You choose the side of the dragon’s and living in harmony with them. I chose the side of money, and told myself ‘it’s only business.’” He shifted in his bonds slightly, wincing all the while. “But I found out I was on the wrong side. I would rather come to you, my enemies, then to stay in the hands of my old cohorts. Especially after they did this to me.”

Snotlout was sitting in a chair, not too far away. “What did you do to get beat up so badly?”

Viggo sighed. “In the dragon hunting business, it is well known that sometimes we have to do things unethically.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Said Fishlegs, with a bite.

“Please understand, Fishlegs,” Viggo’s voice was soft. “To us, the dragons are beasts, just like yaks and chickens. You’ve killed a yak or a chicken for food, right?”

Fishlegs shrugged, noncommittally.

“I was a leader, a captain of the Hunters in this region. Hiccup and you all were a nuisance, but amusing. I enjoyed the little games we played of cat and mouse. It was stimulating, and put the fun back into the hunt for me.”

Astrid’s nostrils flared. “So then, why take him from us?”

“I didn’t.” He assured. “I was…demoted. My boss found out how much revenue and resources I was loosing to you all, and stripped me of my rank. I was beaten within a inch of my life, and left to rot in prison. While I was there, Hiccup was brought in…not looking much better than I. Krogan, who had replaced me, had decided to take a more direct route.”

Astrid tried to keep her imposing body language, but she bit her lip and furrowed her brow. “So he’s in the prison now?”

“As of when I left two weeks ago, yes.”

“How’d you manage to escape?” Pressed Snotlout.

“I didn’t. Krogan said that I had paid for my crimes and let me go. But I had spent my whole life with the Hunters, so he knew I had no where to go.”

“So you came crawling to us, expecting to get help?” Astrid hissed.

“…well, you did help me.”

Astrid swore under her breath.

“It is your tribe’s kindness that is powerful, you know. I often find it more advantageous to make friends instead of enemies.”

Astrid seemed doubtful, but didn’t press him.

“So…what do we do now?” Asked Ruff. “We can’t just walk up to the prison and demand him back.”

“You would be correct, Ruffnut.” Viggo answered. “The prison is well guarded, and on an unmarked island to the Southeast. It is of high security. If you untie me, I’ll point it out to you and we can get to work on a plan.”

“And why would you want to help us? Why should we trust you?”

“This is a rescue mission for you, but it is a revenge mission for me. Krogan took everything from me, my home, my family, my livelihood…I want to cause as much collateral damage as possible.”

The twins cracked their knuckles. “Collateral damage, you say?”

“And, as I said earlier,” Viggo continued, “I enjoyed the games we played. I know I was an enemy to you, but you were friends to me.”

“If we were your friends, I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies.” Said Snotlout, with a frown.

And so, Viggo was released from his bonds and the planning stage begun. They sent for Heather and Dagur, and Stoick and Gobber. They would need help, but a small enough group to keep control of.

It took two weeks, but finally, everything was in place, and the plan fell into motion.

Astrid was rightfully concerned, since a large part of the plan actually revolved around Ruff and Tuff, and Dagur and Heather making as much chaos as possible. While the twins flew around on their Zippleback, and set fire to weapons and the ramparts, the Berserker siblings ran through the prison and released as many prisoners as possible, yelling ‘vive la resistance!’

Meanwhile, Stoick and Gobber kept watch outside, prepared to be backup.

Finally, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, and Viggo all together snuck into the deeper part of the prison, where Viggo last saw Hiccup being held.

Astrid’s head filled with fuzz as the adrenaline coursed through her, she was locked and loaded.

“Alright,” Viggo stopped at an intersection. “Hiccup was in the pit, which is a cell in the floor at the end of this right hallway. Snotlout and I will stay here and watch your backs, alright?”

Astrid nodded, and she and Fishlegs delved deeper.

Two guards, one for each of them, stood at either side of the pit.

The two vikings stood behind the doorway to the room. “Which do you want, Fish?” She asked, quietly.

“Uuhh…”

“Just cover me.” And she leapt from their hiding place and into action.

The first guard barely had time to put a second hand on his spear before she collided the flat of her axe against his skull.

But the other guard was ready to go, and had a smirk on his face. “You might had gotten in, but you’re not gettin’ out!”

“I didn’t come to chat, worm!” And she incapacitated him without much effort.

“Astrid, you’re so cool.” Fishlegs praised, honestly.

She smirked briefly. “Thanks, now let’s get Hiccup.”

The entry to the pit was an iron grate on the floor, with a heavy lock on it.

“I’ve got this.” Said Fishlegs as he heaved his hammer over his shoulder, and dropped it with a bang. The lock exploded.

“Nice work,” Astrid returned.

They both lifted the grate carefully, not to cause too much extra noise and alert the other guards.

Below them was a hole. Dark, dank, and deep.

“Uh…ladies first?” Fishlegs asked sheepishly.

“Keep watch,” she demanded, and then started down the rusty ladder on the edge. It grew dark quickly, and she withdrew Hiccup’s fire knife he had made. It allowed just enough light to see the bottom.

Finally, she reached the end, and saw, with much horror, that the floor was covered with bones.

There was a body in the corner, laying on it’s side. Inhumanly skinny, and naked, she could barely tell it it was breathing. Long gashes decorated it’s back. “Hiccup?” She asked softly.

A choking sound came from the figure, as it rolled slightly to face her.

It was him, but gods he looked like death.

“Hiccup…” she whispered, dropping the light. She knelt at his side. “Hiccup! I’m here…we’ve come for you…”

His eyes were barely open as he studied her with confusion. It was like he didn’t know who she was. His haggard breaths came from his agape mouth.

For a moment, she just held him. She was happy to see him again, alive. But not like this. Never like this.

“Can you stand?” She urged.

He took hold of her arm and pulled with all his strength. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and urged him to sit up. But once he got there, he was panting.

“Alright, I’m going to have to carry you.” She announced. She found the fire knife on the ground and stuck the handle in her teeth. Then she wrapped her arms around him, under his arms and lifted him to stand on his one foot. He teetered with a moan, and she had to keep her arm around him.

“I gotcha, I gotcha.” She assured. Then she turned around and tugged him against her back. “You’re going to have to hold onto me, because I have to climb up.”

He wrapped his arms around her neck as she started to climb, but a few steps up, and his strength gave out. She managed to grab him just in time.

“Astrid?” Fishlegs called from above. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” she replied. “He can barely stand. Is there any rope up there?”

“Yeah, hold on!” The rope fell down while he held one end of it. “Is that long enough?”

“Can you give a little more slack?” She grabbed her end and made several loops, one around his waist, one under his legs, and one around his chest. “Okay Fishlegs, hold tight!”

Hiccup leaned back slowly until the rope tightened, and he was cradled in a swing. Astrid wrapped one arm around him and began to climb while Fishlegs pulled.

It took a lot of work, but they finally got him to the top.

Hiccup had barely done anything, but he laid on the ground panting.

“Uh, Astrid? That’s not Hiccup.”

“Look at his face.” She urged, sitting the boy up.

His handsome face was bruised and bloody, as dirt and filth clung to his skin. His cheeks were hollow with hunger and his eyes were just barely open from exhaustion and the swelling. But his nose remained proud and prominent.

“Oh gods, I didn’t even recognize him…” Fishlegs nearly sobbed.

“It’s alright, let’s just get him out of here.”

Fishlegs shrugged off his vest and draped it on his shoulders. “We’ll get you better covered in a minute, but this is the best I can do for now.” Then he hoisted him up into his arms where he promptly fell asleep.

Snotlout and Viggo were waiting for them, and both stared when they approached.

“Is that…?” Snotlout whispered. “He looks awful…”

“The pit is designed for life sentences. Often, people are just thrown in there and forgotten. We are fortunate to have rescued him in time…I don’t think he would have survived much longer.”

“Let’s get him out of here.”

Fleeing the prison was the easy part, however, when they rendezvoused with Stoick and Gobber on the beach, it was another story.

Stoick saw the state of his son and flew into a rage. “I’m going to kill him! I’ll chop him up into little pieces!”

But Gobber was quick to grab him. “We’ll kill him later. Let’s just get Hiccup home quickly.”

Astrid mounted Stormfly, and had her crouch so Fishlegs could ease him up onto her lap.

Once situated, Hiccup grasped at her shirt weakly and moaned.

“I know, babe. We’re going home.” The affectionate term came without thought, but Astrid couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Astrid was accompanied off the island by Stoick and Gobber, while the others stayed behind to flag down the other half of the team.

It may have been selfish, but Astrid wasn’t even thinking about the other riders at the moment. Not when Hiccup was barely hanging on to dear life in her arms.

“Where did you find him?” Stoick asked, coming up beside her.

“He was in a pit, total darkness, surrounded by bones. Viggo said it wasn’t really a cell, because they don’t take people out of it.”

Stoick snarled, but forced back his anger. “One day…”

They returned to the Edge an hour later, and they quickly took Hiccup to his hut and laid him on his bed. Almost instantly, he was asleep. Toothless came bounding over, tongue rolled out, before he saw his dear friend. He then flattened himself to the floor and whined sadly.

“I’m going to make him some soup,” declared Gobber. “I worked so hard to put meat on his bones, now I’m back to the beginning.” He kept his tone light, but he was torn up inside.

Astrid appreciated his jest, because it helped her calm down. Hiccup was safe now, and he would never leave their sight again.

“Aye, then you and I should get to cleaning him up. He’s a filthy, bloody mess.” Stoick said to Astrid.

She agreed and hurried to collect water and bandages.

Long after the others had returned, Astrid and Stoick were still cleaning Hiccup’s grievous wounds. He smelled awful, like infection and human waste. There didn’t seem to be any part of him that wasn’t bruised or cut, though most minor cuts had scabbed over. Hiccup continued to doze, though often woke up with a wince, only to fall back asleep again.

“Do you…think he’ll make it?” Astrid asked in a whisper.

“Aye,” said Stoick, with no hesitation. “He’s a stubborn one he is. If he hasn’t keeled over yet, he’s not going to.” Though the shakiness in his voice said otherwise.

Astrid stayed with him all night. Even as Stoick nodded off in his chair, even as her eyes burned with exhaustion, she remained ever vigilant. Every twenty minutes or so, she’d get up and straighten his blankets and feel his forehead. His temperature was okay, thankfully no fever.

Every hour, he jolted awake, panting and coughing. And before he fell back to sleep, she would help him sit up and feed him a little broth or water. Often times, he’d spit up whatever he tried to force down.

“I know this isn’t sitting well on you,” Astrid said, as she dabbed his lips with a cloth. “But you have to eat something.”

He responded by dry heaving.

Astrid was quick to retrieve a bucket and set it on his lap. She doubted he’d throw up anything, considering he hadn’t eaten in days. Patiently, she rubbed his back as the heaving continued and he continued to spit up into the bucket. Then, with a great tremble, he puked out red liquid, and Astrid rushed to wake up Stoick.

They could only watch as he got sick again and again, the bucket slowly being filled with what looked like wet red saw dust.

Finally it was over, and Hiccup cried in pain.

“Aw son,” Stoick said softly. He took a cloth and wiped his face dry. “It’ll be okay.”

Hiccup reached for the water and Astrid was quick to give it to him. This time, he drank it down with trembling hands and didn’t spit any of it up.

“Just had to get whatever that was out of your system, huh?”

He nodded sleepily, barely keeping his eyes open.

“Are you warm enough?” She asked, smoothing out the blanket.

He shook his head no.

She reached over to grab another blanket, but he took a hold of her wrist and tugged.

“Honey, I can’t get you another blanket if you don’t let me go.”

He shook his head and tugged on her again. Then he let go and patted the bed next to him.

“Oh, I see…” She smiled softly. Astrid looked to the chief for permission, and he urged her on with a nod.

“It’ll help,” he assured.

She kicked off her boots and took off her armor, then lifted the blanket and slid in gingerly next to him. Hiccup wrapped one arm around her waist and snuggled into her chest.

He spoke, for the time. His voice was just a whisper, a croak of a sound. “I just want…to know you’re real…”

“I’m real,” she assured, cupping his face. “You’re safe now.” And she kissed the top of his head.

This time, he fell asleep and slept peacefully.

The next day, Gothi arrived, having been sent for by Fishlegs. Her examination lasted about an hour, as wounds were re-treated with salve, and wrapped again.

Finally, she tucked him into bed and delivered the news in the clubhouse.

“Multiple lacerations caused by a whip. Broken ribs and fractured wrist, possibly from a fall. Slight concussion, also probably from the fall. Burns on the palms and bottoms of the feet.”

Astrid interrupted by bringing over the bucket he had vomited in last night. “Gothi, he got sick last night, and threw this up. It kind of looks like blood…”

The old woman stuck her finger in the liquid, examining it and then tasted it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” cried Snotlout, squeamishly.

Gothi thought for a moment, and then wrote some more. “Mostly blood, but mixed with wool fibers.”

“Wool fibers? In his stomach?” Asked Stoick.

“I understand.” Said Viggo, thoughtfully. “When he was put in the pit, he probably wasn’t naked.”

“So…” Tuffnut prodded, trying to get him to say more.

“He ate his clothes.” Astrid sighed. “If that’s all he had…”

“I’m sure he ate other things down there as well.”

Astrid closed her eyes as she felt sick to her stomach. The sight of the floor and the smell…

Gothi continued. “The blood he spit up was old. Whatever wound caused him internal bleeding is closed now. Rest, water, and light foods and he’ll recover physically just fine.”

“Just physically?” Astrid asked softly.

Viggo crossed his arms and spoke up. “My best guess is that he was beaten, burned, flogged and then pushed into the pit, where he’s been ever since. Roughly two months in confined, silent darkness will do strange things to the mind.”

“Well…” said Astrid with a clap. “We’ll just have to help him. You said it yourself, our tribe’s kindness is our power.”

But her enthusiasm was not shared with the group.

Viggo shrugged. “It’s worth the effort.”

For days, Hiccup just slept. Slept like he hadn’t in years. Astrid remained by his side, either sleeping next to him or sitting in a chair nearby. Always close enough to help when he woke. And he did wake, for only minutes at a time. But he was always ready and willing to force some water or broth down.

After a week, he started to eat the rest of the soup and bread.

“I’m glad to see you’re getting better,” Astrid commented as he ate on his own. He was still barely skin and bone, but he didn’t shake as badly and he had some color to his cheeks.

“Thank you…” he whispered.

“Of course.”

Once he was finished with his meal, Astrid tucked him back into bed. “I’m going to go take a bath real quick, okay? You just go back to sleep.”

He nodded and closed his eyes.

Though when she returned, the sight startled her.

Hiccup was sitting at the edge of his bed, dressed. He had his eyes closed in exhaustion, and he didn’t have his leg on. Toothless sat nearby, watching him.

“Hiccup, you shouldn’t be up!”

He looked up at her with glossy eyes, and in the clearest tones yet, he said. “I want to see the sun.”

She couldn’t argue with that face. “Okay…” she sighed. “Let’s take it slow.” She got one of his spare legs and helped him put it on. “If you can’t walk, I can carry you.”

He shook his head, but held onto her arm. With a few grunts, he was up. With his leg, he was a bit more stable, but his gait was slow and wavering. Astrid kept near him all the while, ready to catch him if he fell.

Outside his hut, the sun was setting and he had to shield his eyes. But slowly, he adjusted and gazed out over the calm ocean and the fiery sky.

“It’s beautiful…” he said with a long sigh. Tears ran down his face, and he did nothing to stop them.

“Are you okay? Any pain?” Astrid asked.

He shook his head. “I’m perfect.” Then he glanced at her, “help me sit.”

She did so, and took a seat up beside him. “It’s been a week…and we’ve barely spoken. It’s fine, you need your rest…I’m just worried.”

He glanced over to the rest of the island.

“Do you want to talk about what happened? It might help.”

Hiccup sighed and shifted closer to her. “They took me in the middle of the night. I was drugged and they carried me off. They beat me with metal rods and whipped me…they burned my hands and my foot.” He upturned his palms which were still wrapped in bandages. “Beat me some more…dunked my head in water, hung me by my wrists, trapped me in a pool with a sea shocker…” He closed his eyes in thought, like he couldn’t remember everything they did to him. “When they were done, they shoved me in a dark hole…I think I broke something on impact.”

“Some ribs,” Astrid answered. “That’s what Gothi said.”

He nodded in understanding. “Even with all that pain…I knew you guys would save me. Or I hoped you would. So I did what I could to survive. I licked the damp walls for water, and slowly ate my leather pants. Then my linens…I think I ate a raw rat too.” He sighed and his shoulders hunched. “Some deplorable things happened there Astrid. Those were just the things I can say now. Other things I will take to my grave.”

“I understand. I won’t push you. Thank you for telling me, so I can help you.”

Despite the burns on his palm, he took her hand and held it tightly. “In my darkest moments, I thought of you and Toothless and the gang…and I kept telling myself that whenever I got out of there I was going to tell you I love you.”

Astrid gasped slightly at the sudden confession.

“I was waiting, before, for the perfect moment. But in the darkness, I realized how silly that was. I love you. I love you, I love you.”

“Hiccup…” She breathed before enveloping him in a careful hug. “I love you too. I’ve missed you so much…”

“I missed you too.” He pulled away slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away, but she didn’t.

The kiss that came was gentle on her end, because she was still so afraid of hurting him. But from his side, he was desperately trying to convey all the love and affection he had been storing up.

“Astrid?” He muttered between caresses.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“You should thank the other’s too.”

“Sure, but you’re the only one receiving my gratitude like this.”

#httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfiction #hiccup #astrid #hiccstrid #torture #whump #dark

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