HTTYD: You Don't Know the Meaning of "Nice"? (Hiccstrid)

Chapter 49

Astrid's P.O.V.

"On the bright side, they let you out of the hospital so early because they couldn't detect any signs of pregnancy," Snotlout says, trying to ease my mind.

"It was two days, Snot. They let me out because they were getting annoyed by Hiccup," I say, causing said guy to lightly smack me upside the head. "Oww! I'm injured!" I whine.

"Oh, give it up, it's your shoulder that was shot," he says before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side, kissing my fore head. On the table was a framed poster from the school. Everyone signed it, even kids I didn't know. A few of them had little jokes next to the names, while still expressing concern. Hiccup was right. It did help me relax a little bit, knowing everyone was behind me on this.

"Hey, guys?" I asked, breaking the boys from their conversation about what ice cream flavors to get for the weekend. They stopped immediately after hearing my voice. "Did the cops get the shooter?" I ask, making them exchange uneasy glances.

"Um..." Hiccup says, tightening his arms around my shoulders, "I was gonna wait to tell you this, but, yeah. And you have to go to court in two months."

"I what?!" I gasp.

"They want to hear from the victim that was most effected," Snotlout explains. I bury my face in Hiccup's chest as he rubs my shoulder. No way was I going to meet my parents on the 30th. How would they react to their daughter being a rapee, a gunshot victim, and on jury duty?!

"I think I'm gonna take a shower," I say.

"Again?" Hiccup asks.

"Unless you want me to make cookies," I say and he exchanges a look with Snotlout.

"Cookies sound good!" his cousin chirps. I stand up and go to the kitchen before pulling out the necessary ingredients.

Evening

"Astrid, you have to stop!" Hiccup said firmly. I paused in the middle of pulling the 50th batch of cookies out of the oven.

"You guys voted cookies," I say as I put them on the counter.

"Astrid. The kitchen is full. We thought you'd make like one or two batches, not make more dough!" he says. Snotlout had left about 6 hours ago and Hiccup tried to have him take as many cookies as he could carry.

"It's called dealing with stress," I argue. He looked at me before grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the kitchen. "Where are we going?" I ask as he pulls me to his car.

"A drive," he says.

"That sounds..." I trail off, looking for the right word. "Dangerous."

"Okay, you're pushing it," he chuckles. I roll my window down and relish the feeling of the wind in my hair.

5 hours later

Hiccup's P.O.V.

I layed Astrid on her bed before looking at her. Her eyes were twitching uneasily and she had an unconscious frown on her lips. I crouched next to her bed and brushed her hair behind her ear. At my touch, she seemed to start shaking...as if something jumped into her head when my fingers made contact. I took my hand back but she didn't seem to improve. I sighed before laying down next to her and wrapping my arms around her shivering body. She snuggled into my chest as I pulled the blanket over us and I rested my chin on the top of her head.

"Help me choose," she whispered, her voice no louder than a gentle breeze.

"What?" I murmur, knowing she didn't know she was speaking.