Silent

i.

He inhales sharply because god dammit it just can't be gone but he meets those big green eyes and Toothless reminds him he needs to breathe. So he does. And slowly, his brain comprehends it.

He grunts and pulls himself up, using the bed stand as a makeshift crutch. His leg - his stump, all that's left of it - aches as he takes a step forward. He stifles the pain with another deep breath and looks to Toothless for support. The night fury's ear plates perk up, his wide mouth sliding slightly upwards into a proud smile.

And it gives Hiccup the strength to keep going.

And when he falls, he doesn't expect to be caught; but that's what his dragon, does isn't it?

Toothless will never let him fall.

ii.

Toothless knows how much he hurt him. Hiccup doesn't say it, but Toothless can tell. It makes him hate himself. If only he had not been so foolish, so intoxicated with the new found freedom the new tail had given him.

If only he hadn't flown away with not so much as a backwards glance.

The helmet had been a peace offering of sorts. He could smell his boy's mother on it, the scent faint and clinging to the metal still after so many years. But it was there all the same.

Hiccup had accepted it (gods knew he didn't deserve it) and he was determined to make it up to his rider. He didn't want to be tempted to leave ever again. Hiccup was more important than freedom, than flying.

So when he smashes the tail and nudges the old gear, Hiccup's lips twitch upwards in that lopsided way he loves, and he knows his boy understands.

You are my world.

iii.

It's been three years, but phantom pains still come. Whenever they do, Toothless wishes he could do something to help, wishes he could take Hiccup's pain and place it on his shoulders instead... but he can't.

So, when Hiccup hobbles over to him at night, wincing and sniffling, he opens up his wings and allows his rider to crawl in and lay beside him. He may not know much about human medicine, but like Hell he wasn't going to provide his boy comfort if he could.

And when Hiccup's whimpers finally subsided and he finally fell asleep, the actions were all the thank yous Toothless needed.

iv.

The figure in front of him was terrifying, masked like a dragon and their strange staff in its hand. Hiccup shouts, asks questions ("Who are you? The dragon thief? Drago Bludvist?") but his mind keeps drifting off to Toothless.

Toothless, who will drown without him. He has to get back to his dragon, but he's surrounded... There has to be a way out of this place.

Then the staff hits the floor and Toothless is brought out. Glorious relief sweeps over him as he runs forward - nothing else matters, not even the uncertainty of their circumstances - and hugs Toothless' head, ignoring how the wetness will stain his shirt.

Toothless is here, and like everything, they will face whatever happens next together.

v.

Chief and Alpha. Who would have ever thought it?

It takes time, to adjust. To adjust to their new roles, new responsibilities. To the new side of their relationship.

Toothless doesn't forgive himself. Hiccup struggles to look at his best friend the same way. But they'll be damned if they let anything come between them. A few months pass when Hiccup realizes it: he can't look at Toothless the same, because they're both different.

So when he jokingly greets Toothless as Alpha one morning, and Toothless smiles at him, he knows they're on the right path.

vi.

It's something he's been wondering about ever since Valka had exclaimed, "Look, he's your age!" He skirts around the question for a while, but as he reaches his twenty-first birthday, a few months after his wedding with Astrid, he finally plucks up the courage.

Gods, he hopes the answer will be the one he wants it to be.

So as Valka draws her words out, slow and sad, and the answer isn't the one he was hoping for, but also isn't the one he was dreading (Dragons live long lives... but even with a prosthetic, he won't survive much longer after you're gone) Toothless once again reminds him to breathe. So he does, and places his palm on his dragon's snout.

They're going to make the best of the time that's been given to them.

vii.

Hiccup is old, Toothless knows. He can tell by the way his rider's hair is gray, by the way his rider can't go on the long flights like they used to. He can tell that his boy is now an old man.

The dragons have left, until it's only him. The Alpha stays with his Chief, until the very end. And once Hiccup breathes no more, Toothless lights the pyre with fire so hot its white and outshines the stars.

He stays with the people of Berk. He knows there's no point in leaving with the dragons. Soon enough, his tail fin would break. Soon enough, he would be with his rider again.

And when they're finally reunited, neither says a word. They simply hug each other, because who ever said that actions speak louder than words was the wisest person in the world.

Because he's Hiccup, and he's Toothless, and who ever needed words anyway?