The next few days were purposefully busy. Hiccup had his obligations with the dragon race – not that it felt like one; he was looking forward to it as much as everyone else – and also taking care of Jack, who’d woken up the morning after their conversation on the pier with a pretty terrible cold.
Jack’s reaction to that news had been (surprise, surprise) a strange one. To be fair, he’d been quite delirious, and had for some reason insisted that it was impossible that he had a cold. Then, when his head seemed to clear, he’d laughed about it; a soft, very exasperated laugh. The remnants of his voice sounded more like a Deadly Nadder than a Jack.
Their conversation that morning had been short, despite Jack feeling the need to beat around the bush. Obviously, he was a bit embarrassed by what had happened on that pier.
“Really. You’re under a lot of pressure, Jack. I’m not judging you for anything,” Hiccup had reassured him.
Jack’s gaze was elusive. “…Anything?” he’d echoed softly.
To which Hiccup had hesitated. If he was to act on his genuine feelings, he’d tell Jack that he couldn’t just go around keeping secrets. He couldn’t lie to everyone and expect people to accept it, much less trust him. He wanted to say that after all this time, after saving his life – multiple times already – why couldn’t he trust Hiccup enough to tell him what was going on.
But his genuine feelings didn’t stop there. True, he wanted to know it all, not just the half-truths, so much that his chest ached if he thought too much about it. But if he’d told Jack that he couldn’t just go around keeping secrets and then expect to be trusted, Hiccup would’ve been lying. Because he did, no matter how naïve it probably was, trust him.
“I’d like to hear, one day,” Hiccup had finally replied. “But that doesn’t have to be today. Or tomorrow. We’re friends, Jack. I trust you.”
Maybe it was so easy to say it because something about Jack’s expression told Hiccup that he would tell him one day. Jack wanted to tell him. But for some mysterious reason, he couldn’t.
“There’s just one thing I’d like to ask,” Hiccup had continued. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat on the edge of the bed. Trying to hold Jack’s gaze was like cupping water in his hands. “…Are you in danger somehow?”
Jack’s answer had felt like a rock in Hiccup’s stomach. He didn’t say anything but nodded once.
“Can I help somehow?”
“I don’t know… yet.”
It wasn’t much, but Hiccup held onto that final word like a lifeline. In the following week, it kept replaying in his mind whenever his thoughts wandered to Jack. Which was, troubling enough, quite often. Even in the midst of training for the race, he found himself getting lost in thought. He’d been convinced it would go unnoticed – after all, flying with Toothless was nearly second nature to him at this point – but thinking so was naïve. There was always one person who could read him better than he could read himself.
“How’s Jack doing?” Astrid asked while she was sharpening her axe. Why she needed that for the dragon race, Hiccup didn’t know, and she wouldn’t tell him.
They were sitting in the arena, which was empty aside from the two of them and their dragons. Hiccup sat cross-legged on the ground with a safe distance between himself and Astrid’s axe, tinkering with a new prosthetic.
“Jack? Oh, he’s… getting better,” he mumbled absently. “Slowly.”
“It’s been five days,” Astrid said. “I’d gotten the impression he was pretty resistant to the cold. I guess not.”
“Hmm. Yeah.” Hiccup scribbled down a note on the paper beside him, then held the metal piece up to the light. To be fair, Jack had been recovering quite fast, despite how bad the cold had been to begin with.
“Must be horrible to be bedridden for so long,” Astrid mused. “Has he?”
Hiccup hummed. “Sorry, what?”
“Stayed in bed.”
“Uh…” Hiccup compared the new prosthetic to the old one. He frowned. “I should hope so. Haven’t really been keeping track.”
Astrid snorted. It took a few seconds before it registered and Hiccup looked up.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing,” Astrid replied, in the smug tone of someone who knew something the other didn’t.
Hiccup put down the new prosthetic. “Not nothing,” he argued.
Astrid raised her brows in mock surprise. “Odin’s beard – eye contact! I was beginning to think I’d turned invisible,” she said. She put her axe down and crossed her arms. “Do you wanna try to guess?”
“I have no idea what you’re going on about right now,” Hiccup admitted.
“I’m sure you don’t.”
“I- What?” Hiccup tried to rewind their conversation a couple of minutes, but found that the conversation seemed blurry up until Astrid laughed. He shook his head. “What’s this got to do with Jack?”
Astrid shrugged innocently. “Never said it was,” she said, before shooting him a quizzical look. “Interesting that that’s the first thing you thought about, though.”
Hiccup tried to make sense of her words in relation to the expression she was wearing. He turned his attention back to his prosthetic. At least, he tried to make it seem like he did; he began unscrewing a bolt at random. “You started talking about him,” he mumbled. “Not sure what you’re trying to imply here.”
Astrid hummed noncommittally. “No? Interesting.”
“What’s interesting?”
“Anyway, did we ever come to an agreement on what the winner price is gonna be this time?” Astrid said, returning to polishing her axe.
“I don’t think about him all the time, if that’s what you’re saying,” Hiccup said, a hint of frustration creeping into his words.
Astrid’s smirk told him that’s exactly what she’d been saying. “Of course not,” she said. “So, the winner price?”
“That is to say, I do think about him, but only because he’s my responsibility,” Hiccup argued. “And- And also because we’re friends, of course, but…” Astrid raised a brow, and Hiccup looked back down at his prosthetic with a sigh that came out as more of a flustered huff. “Besides, I have other things to think about too. Like the race, for instance.”
“Yes,” Astrid said. “The winner price, Hiccup.”
Hiccup blinked. Astrid looked expectantly at him.
“We… We didn’t decide,” Hiccup said.
Astrid put her axe down, and Hiccup knew he’d given the wrong answer.
“Really?” she said, frowning theatrically. “Because I seem to recall the gang sitting around the hearth at your place, discussing this topic exactly. Do you remember now?”
Hiccup did remember. He remembered sitting around the hearth with the gang, chatting about everything and nothing. They probably did start talking about the race at one point, but the clearest memory from that evening was a red-nosed Jack silently mimicking Snotlout behind Snotlout’s back, and Hiccup making a valiant attempt at holding back his giggles.
Jack had been acting bravely chipper despite at times looking like death herself. At first, Hiccup thought he’d just done that in a sort of fake it ‘til you make it-way. He’d gradually realized, when Jack seemed to refuse to be alone with Hiccup for more than two minutes at a time, that the reason was something even more concerning.
After confessing, Jack had been distant. It didn’t matter that Hiccup told him it was fine; Jack seemed to live in constant fear that if given enough time alone with him, Hiccup would change his mind and demand that Jack tell the entire truth, or something.
A part of Hiccup wanted to do exactly that, so maybe Jack wasn’t being entirely ridiculous. Still, it was a bit hurtful, and Hiccup didn’t know for how much longer he could ignore the elephant in the room whenever they hung out together – always in the company of one or more additional people, excluding Jamie.
“Silver,” Hiccup replied, hoping his pause hadn’t stretched for too long. “There’s a betting pool.”
“We didn’t decide,” Astrid said, looking horribly self-satisfied. “Not on a winner price anyway. The three to come in last have to clean the stables for a month. But you didn’t get that, because you were busy giggling with Jack.”
Hiccup rolled his eyes. “What does that-“
“And if you’re not busy giggling with Jack, you’re busy thinking about giggling with Jack,” Astrid continued, undeterred. “Or brooding about him, or sighing about him, or-”
“Sighing about him?” Hiccup protested.
Astrid looked skywards. “Hiccup,” she said. “How long are you going to screw and unscrew that bolt?”
Hiccup’s hands froze midmotion. He pursed his lips. “Just making sure it was secure,” he mumbled unconvincingly.
Silence settled between them after that. Astrid looked into the reflection of her newly polished axe, her brows furrowing as her previous amusement faded from her face. Hiccup watched her warily.
“He’s quite something, isn’t he?” she then muttered.
There it is, Hiccup thought.
“Uh… yeah,” he slowly replied.
“You seem pretty close late-“
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” Hiccup interrupted. Astrid looked vexed, but he ignored it and carried on; better to talk about serious stuff than… whatever kind of stuff Astrid sounded like she wanted to talk about. “Do you remember… uh, that time we ate our dinner on that one island. The small one.”
It wasn’t very specific, but Hiccup wouldn’t have brought it up if it had been about any of the other times they’d done that. It was Astrid’s turn to look wary, but she tried to cover it up with nonchalance. She began polishing her axe again.
“What about it?”
Hiccup opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. He bit his tongue, then made another attempt.
“It was weird,” he said. “Wasn’t it?”
Astrid raised a brow.
“I mean… It was, wasn’t it?” Hiccup said, straightening his back in an attempt to seem more serious. Because what he was about to suggest would definitely not do him any favors there. “Because I- Astrid, if you can’t agree with me on this, I might actually think I’m about to lose my mind. Am I? About to lose my mind?”
“Hiccup…” Astrid started, as if she was about to debunk every outlandish theory Hiccup’s over-imaginative mind had conjured. A part of him almost wanted her to; leave it to Astrid to set Hiccup straight again, to turn the world the right side up again, with just a few simple words. But then her lips pressed together, and Hiccup felt as if half his heart sank into the bottom of his stomach and the other half shot up to his throat. “I’m not sure what happened there, to be honest.”
Hiccup sighed deeply through his nose. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“I’m sure it was just paranoia, Hiccup,” Astrid said, though she didn’t sound sure. “It was getting dark and… I don’t know. You thought you heard something, and you were acting weird, and… and it just got to me, I guess.”
Neither of them was convinced, and they knew it. Still, Hiccup nodded.
“Yeah… probably.”
Another few seconds of silence.
“I’m gonna go back there,” Hiccup then said.
Astrid wrinkled her nose. “Why?”
Hiccup hesitated. It was one thing to admit that they’d found their last experience with that place weird, and another to take it seriously enough to investigate further.
“I’m just curious,” Hiccup replied, not quite meeting Astrid’s eyes.
Astrid leaned forward. “Hiccup…”
“Do you remember the feeling?” Hiccup relented, looking up at her. “On that tiny, little island, there was a- a feeling. Like…”
“Paranoia?” Astrid volunteered.
“N- Yes, but… no.” Hiccup sighed when Astrid raised a brow at him. “Yes, there was paranoia. But there was something else too. Something… something very specific, I’ve realized. Because…” He wondered if he sounded just as neurotic as he feared he did. “…on the island where we had the drill, I felt the same way. In the forest, I mean.”
Hiccup didn’t know why he expected Astrid to immediately say he was being ridiculous. That wasn’t her, but Hiccup had a feeling that if the roles were reversed, he might’ve been that person. Astrid gazed seriously at him, shaking her head a little.
“What do you mean, specific?”
“I’m not sure,” Hiccup admitted with a nervous laugh. There was a creeping sensation coming up his spine as he tried to recall the feeling, both times he’d been overwhelmed by it. He fiddled with the new prosthetic. “Like… being watched, or that… that something was wrong.”
“Sounds like good old paranoia to me,” Astrid said, but she didn’t sound like she thought Hiccup was being ridiculous just yet. Instead, her expression was soft, and it made Hiccup wonder how shaken he actually appeared.
Hiccup shook his head too. “Maybe it is,” he said, but couldn’t bring himself to believe it. “Either way, I thought I heard something over there. I’m going to check it out, just… just to calm myself, if nothing else.”
Astrid’s smile was slightly strained, but she nodded. “When?”
Hiccup looked up. The sun was high in the sky, which offered him at least a little bit of comfort. If he was going back there, he’d rather go before sunset, with loads of daylight to go on.
“I’ll be back before dinner.”
“Now?” Astrid said. “How about tomorrow? I can come with you then.”
Hiccup smiled gratefully, but shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, not wanting to admit another suspicion that he had – the one where the overwhelming feeling was less likely to show up if he wasn’t alone. “I’ll be quick. Just look around for… whatever.” He held back a slightly helpless moan, because he had no idea what he would even be looking for. “It’s probably nothing anyway.”
Astrid pursed her lips. “If you say so,” she said. “Well… tell me if you find anything.”
Hiccup got to his feet. “Of course,” he said with another smile, before heading out of the arena.
Jamie’s day was going well until the twins suddenly grabbed him by his shoulders and half-dragged, half-carried him away from his friends. In a way, it was a relief; they’d been starting to press him about what had happened with Jack, no matter how much Jamie tried to get them to focus on the dragon race. Apparently, the race seemed dull in comparison to Jack’s mysterious injury, much to Jamie’s frustration; he’d never seen a dragon race before, and he was looking forward to it more than he looked forward to Christmas. (But don’t tell Santa that.)
Rejecting Hildur and Undis was a little bit easier than rejecting Brant, despite Brant’s rather soft demeanor and Hildur’s and Undis’… less soft ones. Jamie had not tried to bring up Jack Frost or the Snow Queen, or that part of his world at all, to them since the last time. Brant, however, had been an avid listener. Not that Jamie had spilled everything, but he kept insisting on Jokul Frosti, and Brant no longer seemed like he thought Jamie was completely ridiculous for believing in him. Which, for now, was good enough for Jamie.
It was because of this that Brant seemed more reluctant to ask about Jack than Hildur and Undis. That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t curious; Jamie could see it in his face whenever the subject was brought up.
Jamie also had a suspicion that Brant in turn was getting better at reading Jamie’s face, and Jamie’s evasion of the topic probably told him enough.
So when the twins suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Jamie didn’t protest as much as he usually would have:
“Afternoon, young Overland,” Tuffnut greeted as he grabbed Jamie’s left arm and Ruffnut his right, dragging him backwards like a hostage.
“What are you doing?” Jamie protested, wriggling wildly in an attempt to free himself. The twins just laughed elfishly.
“Sorry,” Ruffnut said, without an ounce of remorse. “You’ll have to see your friends later. We have a situation.”
“A situ-“ Jamie stopped struggling in favor of giving the twins a quizzical look. Their winks were so synchronized it looked like they’d rehearsed it. Jamie knew they hadn’t; the twins were just like that. “Uh… Oh, uh- Oh no… Well! See you later, guys!” He smiled nervously at his friends and let himself be dragged away.
The last Jamie saw of Brant, Hildur and Undis was Brant waving uncertainly at him, and the latter two sharing a meaningful look. Jamie tried not to worry too much about that.
The twins didn’t let go of Jamie until they were inside the Haddock House, no matter how hard Jamie tried to tell them he wouldn’t run away. He stopped asking when he realized the twins were just bullying him and started sulking instead. It wasn’t until they got to the stairs that Jamie managed to shrug them off.
“Alright, let me climb the stairs myself at least!” he snapped. His annoyance only made the twins laugh haughtily, and he stomped up the stairs.
Jack was sitting up when Jamie got the top. His complexion was still paler than usual and the skin under his eyes was red and swollen. The fern pattern showed faintly across his cheekbone; if Jamie didn’t focus on it, it was almost like it wasn’t there. Of course, he did focus on it. A lot. It was hard not to, when he knew it was there, and who had put it there.
But at least Jack looked better than he had five days ago. His nose wasn’t as red and his cheeks looked less gaunt. He’d been eating more and sleeping less, though he still exhausted himself quite easily if he got out of bed. That, of course, didn’t do much to keep him in bed. Jamie doubted there existed anyone or anything – person or sickness – that could force someone like Jack to lie still for so long.
If Jamie’s mom had been here, she might’ve stood a chance; she was viciously caring.
“Having a fun time?” Jack asked when he took in Jamie’s vexed expression, a silent laugh in his smile.
“The twins said we have a situation,” Jamie said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
Baby Tooth came flying through the window, chirping at Jamie in greeting before landing on the top of Jack’s head.
Jack blinked. “A what?”
“A situation,” Ruffnut said as she and Tuffnut emerged from the staircase. “At least we think so.”
“We overheard Hiccup and Astrid talking in the arena,” Tuffnut said. “And by that, I mean we spied on them.”
“Did they see you?” Jack asked.
“Of course not, do you think we’re amateurs?” Ruffnut sneered. “Don’t ask stupid questions. We don’t have much time.”
“Hiccup and Astrid were discussing something that sounded… suspicious,” Tuffnut said, scratching his chin theatrically. “Something about an island, and a feeling.”
Jack waited for an elaboration, before gesturing for him to continue. Ruffnut followed his hand movements with her eyes but didn’t say anything. “A feeling like…?”
“Something weird,” Ruffnut said. “Something like paranoia. Hiccup’s thinking he’s losing it, or something. He talked about feeling the same on Jotun Island.”
Jotun Island? Jamie’s head echoed.
Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. “Why does Hiccup-“ he started, before cutting himself off. He shook his head. “Do you know where that other island is?”
Jamie frowned at him but kept quiet.
“No, but Hiccup’s going there right now,” Tuffnut said.
Jack and Jamie shared an alarmed look.
“We have to follow him,” Jamie said, then looked at the twins. “You have to follow him!”
“He’ll see us,” Ruffnut said, before shaking her head. “No, Toothless will. Hiccup would be useless without him.”
Jamie didn’t miss the way Jack’s expression darkened at that, but both of the twins did. But he didn’t say anything to them.
“Baby Tooth,” he said instead. Baby Tooth jumped of his head and hovered in front of his face. “You have to follow him. Then you can show us the way later – sometime no one will notice we’re gone.”
Baby Tooth chirped like a soldier, before shooting out the window in a flurry of blues and greens.
Jamie’s heart was beating nervously. He looked back at Jack, whose expression mirrored Jamie’s own anxiety.
“Do you think this could be it?” Jamie asked. It wasn’t the first time the twins had presented them a clue that turned out to be nothing but their own superstition.
Jack looked at the twins and puffed out his cheeks with a shrug. “Who knows,” he said. “I just hope it isn’t dangerous. But tooth fairies are resilient; Baby Tooth will be fine.”
When it was clear they could do no more than wait, the twins went back to their previous activities. Jamie remained on the edge of the bed, wringing his hands.
“Jotun Island?” he muttered. “Like the realm of the Frost Giants?”
Jack’s face was blank. “Is that what it is,” he then snorted. He looked up to the ceiling with absent eyes and let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Hiccup could taste iron by the time Toothless landed on the island from how much he’d been chewing on the inside of his cheek. If he knew he’d become this nervous about going back to this seemingly, and probably, harmless little island, he would’ve taken Astrid’s offer and waited until tomorrow.
But he told himself not to worry and acted the best he could like his legs didn’t feel weak when he dismounted Toothless.
They’d landed in the clearing he and Astrid had sat in. Hiccup’s eyes were trained on the tree they’d been eating under. It looked different in broad daylight; not as shadowy and mysterious. (And scary, but Hiccup didn’t want to admit that just yet.) He shared a look with Toothless, before slowly making his way past the tree and into the shallow forest.
Nothing happened when he stepped into the shadows. Sunlight filtered through the yellowing leaves, but the shrubbery on the ground was still a vibrant green, despite summer being long over. The wind rustled the plants lazily. The smell of seawater mixed with earth, pine and blueberry bushes.
Hiccup swallowed thickly.
“This place is lovely,” he observed. He sent Toothless a frustrated look. “You could have a wedding here, don’t you think?”
Toothless tilted his head to the side.
“A small one, anyway,” Hiccup sighed and looked around again. “I don’t know. I’d expected something a bit… more sinister.”
He didn’t know what he felt. Whatever had come over him and Astrid the last time they were here, it wasn’t present anymore. All around him were just trees and bushes and a silence that seemed somehow out of place because Hiccup had expected… Well, there was that too. Hiccup didn’t know what he had expected.
He spent a little while walking around. What he was looking for, he didn’t know. Footprints, maybe. Certain sounds. Just anything he could grasp as an explanation for what had happened. But even if he did find something, that still wouldn’t explain why he’d felt the same way during the drill.
Maybe it was better that there was nothing. Maybe the best explanation he had really was paranoia. Astrid seemed to be okay with that reasoning. So why couldn’t Hiccup be okay with it too?
Toothless made a huffing sound behind him, and Hiccup sent him a quizzical look. He looked disgruntled, but Hiccup couldn’t imagine why. Toothless wasn’t the type to get impatient when Hiccup was investigating something. Then Hiccup noticed his eyes seemed to be fixed on a spot somewhere behind him. He tried following his gaze but saw nothing but another tree surrounded by a particularly fairytale-looking part of the small forest, as if Toothless was trying to rub it in that there really was nothing frightening to find here.
Hiccup frowned, peering at the tree. It really did look vibrant – even more so than the rest of the island, which was already notably more summerly than the Archipelago generally was this time of year. He took a few steps closer to it, mentally telling himself that he was reaching for the vaguest signs at this point. Signs of what, only the gods knew, and Hiccup still wasn’t sure if he even wanted to find anything.
It was starting to feel ridiculous. No, it had felt ridiculous for quite a while already. Still, he kept walking forward, and the crystal – which he’d moved from his satchel to a pocket on his person after he’d panicked over the idea that Jack might’ve found it – seemed strangely heavy. Maybe he was imagining it.
Hiccup stopped in front of the tree and put his palm against the bark.
A sound split the silence. It was high-pitched, but soft. Even so, it was jarring in the midst of all this nothing, and Hiccup yelped, looking around wildly. What was that – some kind of bird? He stood very still, listening for it again.
Silence.
Tentatively, he tried touching the tree again, but it did nothing.
He moaned tiredly and ran a hand over his face.
“Okay… nothing here. There’s nothing here,” he muttered, trudging back over to Toothless, probably a little faster than necessary. The sun was getting awfully close to the horizon now, he noted. He looked around one more time, before mounting Toothless when he still found nothing out of the ordinary – not counting the strangely flourishing plant life.
So it was just paranoia after all. Now that he had that confirmed, he could put these silly worries behind himself, like Astrid had already done.
Then again, Astrid had always been better at keeping herself focused, even when they were kids. Hiccup had been the one chasing after gnomes and trolls.
The following evening, Jack was sitting by the hearth, feeling very alone. The Haddock House was empty. Everyone had left for dinner, including Jamie, which was a good thing because Jamie could actually go eat dinner without Jack now. It was a reason to be a happy, and yet Jack couldn’t help but feel bummed out about it.
He was looking through some papers Jamie had left behind. It was a bunch of sketches of different types of dragons, with arrows pointing to hastily scribbled down notes and doodles. Hiccup was a good drawer. Compared to the last time Jack had drawn anything, these were masterful – but to be fair, there was only so much you could do with a foggy window when you’re trying to save Easter.
He traced his fingers over a sketch of a bulky dragon with spikes going down its tail. Its lower canines were huge, and its pupils were slit. More spikes sprouted out down its neck and there was a horn sticking out of its forehead. It looked quite dangerous, but then again dragons didn’t usually look warm and welcoming. Jack got the feeling this sketch was drawn from memory, and not in front of a dragon who was willing to model for reference.
The door opened.
“Out of bed, I see,” Hiccup commented, and would’ve sounded disapproving if it weren’t for the amusement in his expression.
Toothless came in behind him, and on Toothless’ head sat Baby Tooth. Jack straightened his back, trying to silently convey a question to her: Did you find anything?
Baby Tooth seemed to hesitate. She didn’t get to answer before Jack was forced to turn his attention to Hiccup.
“Relax, I’ve been lying down for hours already,” he said with what he hoped was an easy smile. “Can’t sleep anymore. And what about you? Shouldn’t you be in the Great Hall?”
Hiccup held up a basket. “Hungry?”
Jack didn’t think he succeeded a hundred percent at hiding his skepticism. “What is it?”
“Chicken, I think,” Hiccup said, coming to sit beside him on the floor. “Haven’t tasted it yet, and I heard rumors Gothi’s helped with dinner today, so…”
“Hmm… Mystery soup,” Jack murmured, but accepted a bowl when Hiccup handed it to him. It didn’t look too bad, so maybe it was at least bland instead of positively dirt-like. “Jamie did say chicken soup would help me get better too.”
Hiccup hummed in response, but his attention seemed to have shifted already. “Oh, these are… a bit old,” he said, and Jack couldn’t help but smile at the shy laugh in his voice as he looked down at the sketches. He picked up the drawing Jack had just been looking at, pursing his lips disapprovingly.
“What dragon is that?” Jack asked.
Hiccup sent him a confused look. “The Snow Wraith,” he said. “It says right here.”
“That’s the Snow Wraith?” Jack looked closer at the drawing, his interest piqued. “It’s rounder than I thought. Also, I can’t read.”
“Yeah, it’s- Sorry, what?” Hiccup’s confusion only seemed to deepen. “You can’t read?”
Jack shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. “Learned the language verbally,” he explained vaguely.
“Jamie too?” Hiccup asked. “He’s been looking at my notes for days, I though…” Jack shook his head, and Hiccup looked baffled. Then he smiled. “Well, I should teach you, then. You and Jamie.”
Jack looked up at him. “Isn’t that boring?” he asked with an exaggerated pout.
“It’s not fun exactly, but it’s a useful skill,” Hiccup said. “You already know the language, so it probably won’t be too hard.”
Jack hummed noncommittally. “Later. I don’t have the brain power to learn anything right now,” he said, and secretly hoped that Hiccup would forget about the whole thing. Instead, he pointed at the drawing. “Tell me about the Snow Wraith.”
Hiccup looked at the drawing, before turning his gaze up to nothing in particular. “The Snow Wraith… is to winter what the Night Fury is to night,” he started. “We met it the first time when looking for a way to open the Dragon Eye. It’s one of the dragons that we’ve never been able to tame; every time we’ve encountered one, there have been close calls.”
Baby Tooth flew into Jack’s line of vision while Hiccup talked. She chirped a gravely tone, and Jack felt a chill go down his spine. He looked back at Hiccup, not fully paying attention to what he was saying. What had he seen on that island? And why did he seem so unaffected, like everything was normal?
“It’s eyesight is bad, but it can see temperature, so if…” Hiccup trailed off, catching Jack’s eye. “Is something wrong?”
Jack cursed inwardly; he still kept forgetting that he couldn’t just stare unabashedly at people anymore.
“No,” he replied, smiling sheepishly. “It just sounds terrifying.”
Hiccup looked back at him for a couple of seconds, before letting out a small sigh. “Jack…”
Jack could already feel himself pulling back mentally at his tone.
“You’ve seemed a bit… skittish, since…” Hiccup hesitated, his hands coming together nervously. “I told you it was fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Worry about what?” Jack asked, averting his gaze.
“That’s what I’m wondering too,” Hiccup said. “About me getting angry, maybe. Or demand you tell me what you haven’t.”
That’s only part of it, Jack wanted to say. The other part was the nagging voice in the back of his head that kept asking why Hiccup had the crystal, and the fear that if Hiccup ever found out about Jack’s past – future, whatever – he’d look at him the same way the twins sometimes looked at him. And now that the twins were spying on him, Jack couldn’t be sure how long his secrets would stay secret, no matter how much Ruffnut reassured him that they were professionals.
And now Baby Tooth had come back with news like this, and Hiccup showed no signs of telling Jack about it. With that in mind, Jack had a reason not to feel too bad about keeping secrets. Neither of them was telling each other anything.
“It’s nothing like that,” Jack lied. “I’ve just been sick.”
Disappointment passed over Hiccup’s expression. He nodded. “If you say so.”
They sat in tense silence. Jack ate his food, though he didn’t have much of an appetite. Hiccup pursed his lips, before putting on a polite smile.
“Anyway,” he said. “The Snow Wraith has adapted to blizzards. We’re a bit superstitious, as you might’ve noticed, so when that blizzard broke out on Berk, some of us started to consider that the Snow Wraith had somehow brought the blizzard to us. But I doubt that.” He paused. “Still, that blizzard is a mystery I’d like to solve already.”
Jack stuffed his mouth with soup and nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about that either,” he said, and it was partly true. “But I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. No one can control the weather.”
“Except the gods,” Hiccup muttered.
Jack glanced at him, before meeting Baby Tooth’s eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Except the gods,” he echoed.
“How’d it go?” Jack asked the next day. He, along with Jamie, Baby Tooth, the twins and their dragons, were standing near the bridge to the arena. Well, most of them were standing – Baby Tooth hovered anxiously by Jack’s side.
“The others wouldn’t have noticed us going even if we’d announced it with a musical number,” Ruffnut drawled. “So, what’s up?”
Jack shared a look with Baby Tooth. She nodded, and Jack retold what she’d seen when she’d followed Hiccup to the island. There was just one part that Jack didn’t want to share just yet; the part where Hiccup had heard Baby Tooth’s chirping. According to Baby Tooth, it had only been a fraction of a second, and it might’ve just been a coincidence. But paired with another piece of information she’d given him, that Hiccup may also have caught a glimpse of Baby Tooth on their way back from Jotun Island, the likelihood that it wasn’t a coincidence was bigger than Jack was comfortable with.
What did it mean? Was Hiccup starting to believe, somehow? Had the twins spilled after all? Was that why Hiccup was so okay with Jack keeping his secrets… because he already knew them, and was only playing along?
It was all just a bunch of nearly groundless theories, and Jack knew dwelling on them wouldn’t help. What mattered now was to follow what might be their first lead since the Snow Queen.
“Jack,” Jamie said. There was something in his voice that made Jack’s chest tighten with anxiety; a seriousness that didn’t fit into the voice of an eleven-year-old boy. “You’re going there now?”
“That was the idea, yeah,” Jack said.
“I’m coming with you.”
It wasn’t a question.
“It could be dangerous,” Jack tried to argue, but Jamie fixed him with a determined look.
“Hiccup didn’t find anything there,” he said. “All we need to fear is a feeling, and a feeling can’t hurt anyone. Besides, you-“ His voice caught in his throat and he swallowed. “You… almost died last time. You’re not going alone. You can’t make me stay behind again.”
The twins shifted uncomfortably at the sudden tense atmosphere, but thankfully they didn’t try to come with any funny quips this time.
Jack wanted to refuse. Even if the island had, according to Baby Tooth, been empty aside from a strange kind of aura, Jack didn’t know what to expect when they got there. Maybe things would be different. Maybe something would be there after all. Or… someone.
But Jamie’s gaze was hard. Tears glistened at the rim of his eyes, despite his obvious efforts at keeping them in. Despite everything he’d been through – the battle against Pitch, the time fragment, the incident with the boar – he still seemed strangely unafraid to throw himself into the unknown.
Despite Jack’s failure with the Snow Queen, Jamie still trusted him to keep them safe. It seemed it was less hurtful for him to be a part of the adventure, than to sit on the sidelines waiting, with no way of knowing if Jack would come back or not.
Jack wasn’t convinced he was worthy of such trust anymore.
“You’re right,” Jack said. Jamie’s eyes widened, and Jack smiled at him, ruffling his hair to ease the tension around them. “We’re in this together. So… which dragonhead do you want to ride?”
Jamie’s eyes became impossibly large. It seemed this part of the plan hadn’t quite occurred to him.
“Oh! We’re gonna-” he started, before slapping his hands over his mouth and bouncing on his feet. Then he looked at the twins, and his gape melted a little. Jack couldn’t blame him; the twins were sharing suspicious grins. “Uh… Belch?”
“That would be my dragonhead,” Tuffnut said, beckoning Jamie forward. “After you, little boy. You’ll be in the front, so I can keep an eye on you. I don’t want you performing any magic behind by back.”
Jack sent Jamie a smile that said, good luck, you’re gonna need it.
“Ookay… You don’t have to worry too much about that,” Jamie mumbled.
Ruffnut sent Jack her best smirk. “Which leaves you all to me,” she purred, sliding closer, and it was Jack’s turn to falter.
“Uh… What-“
“You're a bit too scrawny for me, but who knows? You are special, after all.” Ruffnut leaned in close, and Jack leaned back.
“Um, that’s fine, you don’t have to-“ he started, but Baby Tooth interrupted by flying into Ruffnut’s face, squeaking indignantly. Ruffnut stumbled back, but didn’t look too defeated; this wasn’t the first time Baby Tooth had tried to berate her. Or Tuffnut, for that matter. Jack smiled sheepishly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he told Ruffnut.
Ruffnut grinned at him. “I think you do,” she said in a husky voice, before hooking her arm around Jack’s and pulling him towards Barf.
Despite the discomfort, he was at least glad she didn’t find him too scary to push him around like this.
Once they were seated, Jamie glanced nervously at Tuffnut, before meeting Jack’s eyes. Jack held back a laugh.
“Baby’s first flight,” he teased.
Jamie stuck his tongue out at him. “With a dragon, anyway,” he countered.
“Hold on tight, boys,” Ruffnut ordered, before sending Jack a smirk over her shoulder. “Don’t be shy,” she added darkly.
Baby Tooth was absolutely fuming from where she sat in the crook of Jack’s neck. Jack wanted to ignore Ruffnut, but when Barf and Belch jumped over the edge of the bridge, he didn’t have any choice but to latch onto her. He grabbed her around the waist, and accidentally (at least that’s what he told her afterwards) bonked her head with his staff.
On the other dragonhead, Jamie shrieked, halfway delighted, halfway terrified. Tuffnut seemed to be treating him a little better than Ruffnut was treating Jack, thank the gods.
Jack was grateful that the distance between Berk and the mysterious island didn’t demand more than a fifteen minute flight; he’d rather not spend more time with his arms around Ruffnut’s waist than he absolutely had to. Meanwhile, Jamie seemed to be having the time of his life, so perhaps it would’ve been worth it even if the flight had been longer.
However, when Ruffnut pointed out the island in question, both their moods dampened. Jack’s throat felt dry, and he knew it wasn’t just because of his cold. His heart knocked a nervous rhythm against his ribs. Baby Tooth chirped gently, as if reassuring him, but there was something off about her tone.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.
“What?” Ruffnut said.
“Not you.”
Baby Tooth didn’t answer, but flew ahead to lead the way. They followed her down into a clearing in the middle of the island’s tiny forest. The shadows cast from the trees were getting long, draping sinister shapes across the luscious grass and bushes. Jack hopped off Barf and looked around. Jamie followed his lead, coming up to his side.
“Do you feel anything?” he asked uncertainly.
Jack concentrated, but in the end shook his head. “It was the same with the Snow Queen,” he admitted. “I don’t think I have the ability to sense things like that at all anymore. Baby Tooth might-“ He looked around, but the fairy had left his side. He spotted her in between the trees, and she motioned at them to follow her. Jack exchanged a quizzical look with Jamie, before obliging. The twins followed behind them, while Barf and Belch waited out in the clearing.
“I don’t like this,” Tuffnut muttered, which Jack thought was a bit unnecessary.
“You’re the one who wanted to come here,” Ruffnut retorted.
“Wasn’t this your idea?”
“Was it?”
Jack tuned them out. He followed Baby Tooth, noting that the nature around them really did look a lot greener than what was appropriate for the time of year. Still, Jack couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, benevolent or malevolent. The little island had its charm, though; Jack could see why this looked attractive as a spot for dinner.
Baby Tooth spoke up, and Jack stopped in his tracks.
“Of course,” he said.
The other three stopped as well.
“What?” Jamie asked.
“The reason why Hiccup didn’t feel anything during his last visit,” Jack said, looking at Baby Tooth to make sure they were on the same page. “He was here in the middle of the day. The first time was around dinner, which is during sunset. Which is…” He looked up at the pink and orange sky. “…now. Baby Tooth says the air feels different. That’s what it is, isn’t it?”
Baby Tooth chirped in confirmation, before setting of to zoom between the trees, as if following a scent. She didn’t say anything, and Jack held up a tentative hand when Jamie opened his mouth to speak. Wait, he mouthed.
The four of them stood completely still as Baby Tooth zipped around. The twins exchanged wary looks. In moments like these, Jack was almost thankful for their precaution against magic; at least they didn’t try to interrupt in any way whenever Jack or Baby Tooth had to get to work.
“What does the sunset have to do with anything?” Ruffnut asked, making Jack’s train of thought come to a frustrating stop.
“In-between spaces,” Jack explained shortly.
“Oh, I’ve heard about that!” Jamie whispered, before slapping a hand over his mouth when he remembered he was supposed to be quiet. Despite being annoyed with Ruffnut, Jack was just endeared by Jamie’s knowledge about obscure things like that – be it Bigfoot, aliens or trivia about Norse mythology – so he smiled lopsidedly at him. It was blatant favoritism, but Jack couldn’t say he felt particularly bad about it.
“Yes,” he said, speaking softly. “In-between spaces, like sunsets, or bridges, or any borders of any kind – the vail between the magical and non-magical realm is thinner. Really, it’s pretty basic stuff.” He raised an eyebrow at the twins.
They replied with identical scowls.
“Not everyone has a thousand years’ worth of knowledge up their sleeves,” Ruffnut grumbled.
“Three hundred,” Jack corrected, smirking at the twins. “I’m not that old.”
Baby Tooth made a muffled noise. Jack couldn’t see her, but he followed the sound of her voice, with Jamie and the twins at his heel. He spotted what Baby Tooth had found before he saw Baby Tooth herself: A thick, moss-covered tree, broader and more luscious than any other tree Jack had seen on the island. Around it, the grass also seemed to be richer and greener, and from the bushes grew blueberries that were almost startingly saturated.
Baby Tooth hovered by the base of the tree, pointing at its roots. Jack couldn’t see what she was looking at, but he walked over and crouched.
If Baby Tooth hadn’t sensed it, it would’ve been impossible to find. Under the roots, the tree was hollow. Baby Tooth flew closer, offering a faint light. A pattern came into view – something was carved into the wood.
“What is that?” he murmured.
Baby Tooth didn’t know; she only knew that it emitted a certain kind of magical energy.
“Nothing… bad?” Jack asked.
She shook her head but seemed to hesitate.
“What is it?” Jamie asked, coming to crouch beside Jack. Behind him, the twins were leaning over, trying to catch a glimpse from a safe distance.
“Not sure,” Jack admitted. “It looks old. Maybe some kind of ritual circle?”
“Sounds scary,” Jamie mumbled.
Jack could only nod. He shifted and brought the crystal out of his boot. It seemed abnormally heavy, but that might just be his imagination.
“Do you know those symbols?” he asked the twins.
They both looked reluctant to come forward, but Ruffnut was the first to come over. She kneeled and peered into the hollow, her mouth a thin, skeptical line. When she didn’t say anything, her brother came over and did the same. Then they sat up and shook their heads.
“Looks ancient,” Tuffnut informed.
“Ancient even for Vikings,” Jamie said with childish wonder in his voice. “What do we do with it?”
Jack weighed the crystal and his options. Then he leaned down again and placed the crystal in the middle of the circle.
He passed out immediately.
The first thing he noticed was that half his face was buried in snow. He sat up with a jolt, thinking he was somehow back on Jotun Island, but was quick to figure out that that wasn’t the case. He looked around bewilderedly. Because he was someplace very familiar… at least it used to be familiar, about eighty years ago.
Burgess. The streets were all the same. Much of the buildings, as well. A thick layer of snow covered the town, and with the Moon high in the sky, the streets were mostly abandoned. Snowflakes were slowly covering up the footprints on the sidewalk. The statue of Thaddeus Burgess and his family was almost indistinguishable with the white covering it.
The winter night looked as if taken straight out of a story. This wasn’t unusual for the town of Burgess.
A car drove past, and with it came the last proof that this wasn’t 2012. The car was antique – well, it would be antique in the future – with thin wheels and huge, round headlights. The man driving it wore a hat, a suit with a bowtie, and sported a thick mustache. Of the few people roaming the streets, Jack could spot a few men in similar clothing, and women in knee length skirts and formless tops, with short, sleek hairstyles.
Faint music was playing from somewhere. Jazz.
Jack found himself walking towards the sound of it unthinkingly. Jazz? Flapper girls? Why on Earth had the crystal sent him here? He’d been sure he’d end up in the workshop again. He could’ve asked North if they’d made any progress on figuring out how to get him and Jamie home. Or even just seen him again, just for a bit. Instead, he was in Burgess, sometime in the 1920s.
He looked down at his body as he walked. He looked the same as last time: Still human, still in old Viking attire. His staff didn’t seem to have followed him, though.
He looked back up again but did a double take. His clothes – despite the falling snow, none of the flakes had landed on his person. And when he looked behind himself, he realized he wasn’t leaving any footprints either. Tentatively, he bent down at tried running his fingers through the snow.
He could feel it. The cold, the texture – but his fingers still passed through, as if the snow immediately went back into its previous place when Jack’s touch left it. He stood back up and spotted a small crowd smoking by the entrance to some brick building. In the present, Jack was fairly sure that building was a coffeeshop – but he did faintly remember it being a jazz club, which seemed to be the case right now.
He was unsure what compelled him to walk towards them. Maybe because it seemed like the only lively place in the entire town at this hour. If he was going to figure out why he’d come here, he doubted he’d find it out in the night.
Unless a certain spirit was roaming around – one that might possibly be able to see him. Jack had to force himself to look up at the sky. A wintery night such as this… it was likely that it was Jack himself who had designed it. But the thought of seeing himself from the past… it didn’t sit well with him. It was just too weird.
So when he didn’t see anyone in the sky, he didn’t feel too disappointed. He told himself he’d keep an eye out, but secretly hoped 1920s-Jack had already moved on to bring winter somewhere else. Besides, if he really did spot himself and talk to himself, wouldn’t he have remembered it? Even if it had been quite a few decades, speaking to your future self – and a human one dressed like a Viking on top of that – wasn’t something you just forgot.
Unless he’d actually have to do it, thus changing the past. But if the past changed, then wouldn’t it always have been that way? Gods, time traveling was confusing.
Jack dodged the smoking crowd, wrinkling his nose at the stench. The door was open, with no one guarding it. Not that they would’ve payed Jack any attention anyway. He walked inside.
A live band was playing on a small stage in the corner of the room. Some were standing still, listening to them. Most were sitting around candlelit tables. A few were dancing, swaying playfully together in the middle of the room. All the girls were dolled up, with headbands and feathers in their short hair, and glistening sequins hanging from their shapeless dresses. Despite the alcohol ban, it wasn’t such a leap to assume some of these people weren’t taking the prohibition all that seriously. Certainly didn’t smell that way.
It was an understatement that Jack looked horribly out of place. It made him shift uncomfortably, despite being invisible.
The thought didn’t bother him so much anymore, though. He walked through the crowd, listening to the music, admiring the dancers… it had been such a long time since what they’d called the Roaring Twenties, and even while it was going on, Jack obviously hadn’t taken much part in it. Still, it was nice to see the glamour of it again. Bright smiles, loud laughter, bold, bouncy steps on the dancefloor.
Jack didn’t know how long he’d been walking around the room before he was reminded of something.
“Oh, look at the time,” a woman in a yellow dress said, excusing herself from the man she was dancing with. “I must be going. It’s too easy to lose track of the hours here, isn’t it?” She laughed, then hurried off.
Jack looked after her with a puzzled expression. Right… Wasn’t there something he was supposed to do here as well?
His eyes scanned the room, looking for… He was looking for something, wasn’t he? Or someone… He frowned, trying to concentrate. A new song started playing – an upbeat one. Jack found himself tapping his foot lightly to it, watching a couple flail their limbs around in a way that looked both free and graceful at the same time. Wouldn’t it be something to be transported into this time era instead of the Viking era?
Jack stopped tapping his foot. “Viking era,” he muttered, unable to retrace to where that thought had come from.
A new couple entered the dancefloor. A gangly boy with brown hair and a blonde, slightly plump girl. He wore an unassuming black suit, while the girl was dressed in a flowing red dress with frills coming down the hem. Her smile was bright and dreamy, mirrored perfectly in the boy’s expression. If Jack had to guess, he’d say they were both in their late twenties. They looked very much in love.
Then his attention was abruptly taken away when someone tugged his arm so harshly he stumbled slightly. He yelped and spun around.
Jamie Bennett stood in front of him, and Baby Tooth hovered beside him, looking as murderous as a tooth fairy possibly could.
In the same second, Jack remembered.
“What’s going on?” Jamie demanded. It was so weird seeing him in such a setting, it took a moment for Jack to reply.
“Uh- I- I was…” Jack stammered. Now that his mind had been tugged back to reality, the sense of contentment was quickly turning into unease. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his head. “What happened? How did you get here?”
Jamie glanced at Baby Tooth before looking at Jack again. “You passed out,” he said. That much Jack could remember. “We tried to wake you, but we couldn’t. So I tried to remove the crystal, but when I touched it, I… I passed out too. I appeared right here, and then Baby Tooth appeared a moment later.”
Jack looked away, frowning deeply. “How? I thought the crystal would send us back to the North Pole.”
“I don’t know,” Jamie mumbled, shifting nervously. “Where are we anyway?”
“You’re familiar with the place, just not the time,” Jack said. “Burgess, sometime in the 1920’s.”
Jamie’s eyes went big. “Why are we- Woah!”
The interruption came in the form of someone walking through him. Jack’s stomach did a steep dive. He reached out and gently led Jamie closer to the wall.
“It’s okay,” he said, as reassuring as he could to soften the alarm in Jamie’s expression. “Same thing happened when I talked to the Guardians. Only- Only they could see me, but maybe normal humans can’t, or… something.” He bit his lip; it wasn’t the most confident encouragement he’d ever given.
Jamie held tightly onto Jack’s arm. “Why are we here?” he asked. “Can we- Can we get back?”
“Yes,” Jack replied unthinkingly. “Um… I just have to figure out how.”
“How did you get back last time?” Jamie was patting his own chest with his free hand. When he looked up at Jack, Jack had to force himself to maintain eye contact, because he could all but see the question in Jamie’s eyes: Is this what it was like for you all that time? That conversation had been hard enough the first time, and Jack was entirely unprepared to give it another go.
“The crystal,” he said. He looked at Baby Tooth, put kept his hands on Jamie’s shoulders. “I touched the crystal, and I woke up. We just have to…”
“Find the crystal,” Jamie finished, looking around. “But it’s not here.”
“Either way, the crystal that sent us forward in time wasn’t the same that sent us back.” Jack swallowed down his fear; he had to keep his head cool for Jamie’s sake, who was already shaken enough. Thing was, the crystal that sent them back had been secured in a chest in North’s workshop. He doubted anyone in 1920’s Burgess had done them any such favors. What were they supposed to do, search the whole city? The whole world?
Jack’s throat was starting to close up with panic when Baby Tooth suddenly tweeted urgently. She motioned at them to follow, and was gone before they had any time to protest. Jack started to straighten, but Jamie seemed reluctant to weave between the partygoers.
“It’s not dangerous,” Jack said, squeezing Jamie’s shoulders again. “I’m here, and Baby Tooth’s here. We’ll be out of here in no time.”
“It’s like we’re ghosts,” Jamie said, his voice shaking slightly. “Are we…?”
Jack shook his head. “No. Don’t think about it like that,” he said. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but… but we’ll find a way back. Just keep close to me, and I’ll lead us through.” I’m an expert, he wanted to add, but decided it wasn’t the time for that kind of jokes.
Jamie chewed his bottom lip but nodded tentatively. Jack took his hand.
Baby Tooth had disappeared in the crowd, but she wasn’t hard to find. Jack’s attention was drawn towards the dancing couple he’d been watching earlier – the girl in the red dress and the gangly boy – and Baby Tooth was hovering around them as well. Jack found it hard to believe in coincidences; there had to be something special about this couple.
True to his word, Jack led Jamie through the crowd, only passing through a small number of people’s arms and shoulders. Jamie had it easier; he was short and skinny and generally out of arm-swinging territory. Baby Tooth was staring daggers at the boy’s backside once they got to her, which made Jack arch an eyebrow.
“That’s not appropriate, Baby Tooth,” he said with a cheeky smile.
She didn’t get the joke. She didn’t really seem to hear him, either.
The dancing couple eventually stopped dancing, both pink-faced and panting. They went hand-in-hand over to a candlelit table, and since Baby Tooth followed them, so did Jack and Jamie. The boy held the chair out for the girl but didn’t sit down himself.
“I have something for you,” he said, and reached into his pocket. For a second, Jack though he was going to propose, before noticing they were already wearing rings. The boy brought out a flat, black jewelry box the size of a small book and held it out to the girl. “For your return, and for our reunion.”
The girl’s smile was bright, with a teasing glint in the corners of her eyes. “You could’ve come with me, you know,” she said. She had an English accent.
“You know I couldn’t.” The boy sat down on the opposite end of the table, looking at the girl with so much affection in his eyes, Jack wanted to look away.
“Why are we watching this?” Jamie whispered, evidently mirroring Jack’s discomfort.
Jack could only shrug in reply.
“Burgess is my home,” the boy continued, before gesturing at the box. “Open it.”
Clearly, it was a conversation they’d had many times before, because the girl rolled her eyes good-naturedly and let the topic go. She opened the box. Jack gasped at the same time as her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, looking wide-eyed the necklace in front of her. That wasn’t what Jack was looking at, however; the crystal was inside the box along with it. The girl didn’t seem to notice. How on Earth had it ended up in there?
The boy stood again and walked around the table. “Let me help you,” he said. The box was put down on the table and he gingerly took the necklace in his hands. If he could see the crystal, he didn’t say anything about it. “Just to make sure you don’t start believing I don’t constantly think about you.”
Jack would’ve gagged at the sappiness of it all, but he had more important things to focus on. He went up to the couple and grabbed the crystal before anyone could close the jewelry box, taking his lack of physical form to his advantage. The boy didn’t seem to mind having a hand plunged through his chest.
Immediately, the world started to blur.
“We’re going back,” Jack informed Jamie when the latter nervously tried grabbing the table (with little success), but Jack’s eyes were still on the couple. As they faded away along with the party and all of 1920’s Burgess, he watched the boy lean down after having fastened the necklace around her neck, kissing her swiftly.
