Biology

Chapter 27

Christmas was normally a happy time of year for Jack: he loved winter in general, and North was always enthusiastic about the holidays. They always decorated the house, North going overboard with the ribbons and bells and bows and the silly train set that he insisted on setting up every single year without fail, and even though it was just the two of them, they had fun.

This year was different. North decorated the house himself, right down to the train set. He put up the tree alone. He even baked cookies on his own—which was something he and Jack had done together every single year since Jack had been old enough to stand on a stool at the counter and lift a mixing spoon.

But even though he was eating properly again, North still couldn't get Jack to do much more than just lay around in his room. He even allowed some of the boy's friends to visit over the first few days he had been out of the hospital in the hopes it would cheer him up a little. And although Jack had thanked him for that, it hadn't really helped very much.

North found himself at a loss as to what to do. He had never had to deal with his son being like this before. Even when he had gone to the previous high school—Saint Burgess, on the other side of town—and had been getting picked on and bullied almost every day, he hadn't fallen into such a deep, serious depression.

It was worrying, and more than a little frightening—and North had to consider that Jack's hospital stint was probably a pretty serious wake-up call for both of them: for Jack in that he needed to take better care of himself, and for North in that he was finally beginning to understand just how miserable his son was without the boy that he was currently forbidden to see.

Finally, on December twenty-second, after serious consideration, North dug Jack's cell phone out of the kitchen drawer where he had stashed it, and turned it on to flip through the contacts quickly.

Hiccup Haddock.

It was easy to find the number—the kid had a pretty memorable name. North paused, just looking at the contact information for a moment. His eyes flitted toward the ceiling, then, and he finally punched the call button.

Two rings in the call was picked up with a hastily gasped "Jack?!"

North cleared his throat. "No. This is Jack's father."

There was a moment of silence, and then Hiccup asked hesitantly, "is... did something happen? Is Jack alright?"

"Jack is fine." Came North's reply. He frowned. "I would like to speak with you."

Another pause, then: "about what?"

North sighed. "About Jack. But not over the phone."

"Oh..."

In the end, they both managed to agree to meet at a coffee shop downtown. The conversation was awkward at best, but both of them knew that talking in person would probably be even worse. Still, North had made the decision to have an actual talk with the teen, and Hiccup wasn't about to say no, all things considered.

Two hours later found Hiccup waiting in the Starbucks across the street from the library, his jacket over the back of his chair and an untouched coffee in front of him. He had ordered the drink more out of habit than anything else, but anxiety was making his stomach twist into knots. His arms were crossed over his chest in a vaguely defensive manner—he had no idea what North wanted to say to him, nor what he was about to be in for.

When North finally arrived, the bell at the front door announced him. Hiccup's eyes flitted over quickly, and he watched the man look around before his gaze settled and he came across the store, striding toward him with purpose. Hiccup slowly uncrossed his arms, licking his lips nervously: as tough as he was, North could probably crush him with one hand if he really wanted to.