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

Chapter 53

Astrid's P.O.V.

"7 lbs, 6 oz...I thought I gave birth to my sister," I sighed, looking at the picture on my phone. "Had her for a month before the couple came and took her."

"Have you ever tried to contact them?" Hiccup asks.

"No. They gave me their email address but I feel like they wouldn't want me to interfere," I say.

"Do they know how to get in touch with you?" he asks.

"I gave them an email, too, but they haven't used it. I've given up hope of ever meeting her," I say. Hiccup took the phone from me and examined the picture.

"She was beautiful," he told me sympathetically.

"For all I know she took after Harry," I sigh.

"With the drugs, you mean?" he asks.

"And the alcohol, and the violence, and the swearing," I said, nodding, "He started when he was ten, so at least the people have a few years left to teach her the right way."

"I'm sure she's not going to take after Harry," he told me, tightening his arm around my shoulders.

"You obviously don't know that a child gets looks from one parent and personality from the other," I say.

"Well I'm living proof that that's not true. I look more like my mom and I act like her too," he says.

"Well Harry looked like his dad and acted like his mom. And we'll never know who I act like, so. What's the theory?" I ask.

"Why don't you just wait until your mind's clear before you decide to not meet your parents," he suggests.

"My mind is clear, Hiccup. I can't face them when I'm pregnant with a strangers baby."

"You already had one of their grandchildren. They have a right to know about this one," he says.

"They might have a right, but I don't want them to think their daughter's turned into some kind of slut," I tell him.

"They're not going to think that," he says as he stands up and goes to my desk, pulling out a chunk of wood. He grabs my carving knife and hands the things to me before sitting next to me again. I looked at the wood and knife before glancing at my closet. "There aren't any monsters in your closet, M'Lady," Hiccup whispers, noticing my stare. I glance at him briefly before starting to carve. My inventory of carvings had increased over these two weeks and I didn't like the images I had made. They weren't inappropriate or anything, but they still unsettled me.

"Can you grab a sandpaper block?" I ask after a few minutes of silent shaving.

"Uh, same drawer?" he asks, standing up.

"One down," I tell him and he nods. The chunk of wood was starting to take the shape of a bear, on it's hind legs with it's jaw opened in a roar. Hiccup handed me the sand paper block and I started sanding the wood to make the basic shape of the bear's legs. "Bears," I spit, pausing as the legs form into stubs. "Bears are my spirit animal; my guardian. Some job, guardian. I'm pregnant with stitches in my shoulder. Scars from nights I don't even remember. Why did I ever think you'd protect me? I am pregnant with a bullet in my shoulder and a fire in my veins. It burns. It burns and it spreads, it doesn't quench. The flames run through my blood, mixes with the baby's skin until it shrivels like a raisin. The fire's white hot, there's no way I'm gonna keep this in. I'll set your fur aflame. You have no idea what kind of enemy you have created. You have awakened the dragon. You betrayed my trust, you killed my confidence, you drained my energy...bears only care about themselves." 

Hiccup's P.O.V.

Her voice was sickening soft as she spoke to something. I don't know if it was me, or her. But it wasn't the wood. I have a feeling the bears represented Harry. She suddenly stopped carving and her fist shivered as she clutched the knife. "Astrid. I made a mistake," I say slowly, "Put the knife down."

"The knife is the only thing I can control," she whispered.

"No, Astrid, stop thinking," I order.

"You know the weird thing about life?" she asked, examining the blade, "You might be completely shifty. You might have people tell you that you're a b****. You might even be able to take a hit. But that doesn't stop anything. From utterly, ruining, your life." On the last sentence, she pointed the knife at her belly.

"Astrid, drop the knife!" I snap, worried that if I tried to take it from her, she'd hurt herself.

"No," she answered simply. "No. No, no," she started chuckling, "No, I don't want this baby. And I'm not going to have it." She started to slowly push it into her skin, making her gasp in pain. I saw a flash of red before I grabbed the knife and ripped it away from her body. She wouldn't let go for a moment, but when she did, I fell off her bed, dropping the knife and having it fly through the air before landing in my lower leg. I screamed as I felt the blade go through the bone, making Astrid jump into action. "Hiccup!" she screamed, calling 911. "I need and ambulance!" she shouted into her phone before telling them the address and going on her knees next to me, cradling my upper body.

"Astrid," I grunted, "I want you...to listen to me." She didn't let me finish.

"I'm so sorry, Hiccup! I don't know what I was thinking!" she cried. I reached up and cupped her cheek as gently as I could.

"Astrid. Stop talking," I hiss in pain, "I don't know anyone who's died from a knife in their leg. I'm going to be fine, alright? It's just gonna hurt for a little while. Listen. When I wake up. I want you to be the first thing I see. You hear me?" A look of fear flared in her eyes before I looked at her abdomen. "Tell the ambulance people that you got cut." With that, everything went black and I was embraced by an agonized sleep as blood pooled around my leg and soaked my pant leg.