#blue oleander

He was often surprised at the patients that came in, but none had surprised him as much as the stunning blonde fidgeting in front of him.

“Yes?” he asked as she stood staring at him. “Are you lost?”

“No,” she said, frowning. “This is Blue Oleander, right? The sign was a little . . . faded.” He quirked one side of his mouth into a grimace of apology. Their sign was faded and overgrown with plants, but the desperate people always found them anyway.

“That’s correct,” Hiccup replied. “At your service. What do you need?” He didn’t know why he asked. Blue Oleander sold a few concoctions, the gray blue walls covered in unfinished gray wooden shelves lined with bottles, boxes, and pills. They were also a certified pharmacy, with a little extra kick, not that the customers really cared. People only came here for one thing.

“My doctor told me to come here,” she shared. “She said you’re the best.” Hiccup nodded and checked his clipboard sitting on the cluttered desk.

“Come this way, Miss . . .?”

“Astrid Hofferson,” she answered promptly. Hiccup nodded and wrote the name down. He’d probably never see that name again. There was no way a girl like her had any cause to be here.

“Why’d your doctor send you?” he asked. “Can you tell me what kind of symptoms you’ve been having?”

“Nothing, really,” she said. “Mostly short breath, but that’s weird because I exercise, and I don’t smoke, I have a nutritious diet, and I’ve never had respiratory problems before.”

“Hmm,” he frowned. “You said you went to your doctor first?” People usually had glaringly obvious symptoms before they sought out help from them.

“Yeah,” she said. “I was just going for my checkup, and she asked me if I had been experiencing anything unusual, and I remembered, yeah, actually, I was having trouble breathing. It’s - I’m an athlete. I need to get enough oxygen when I compete.”

“Yeah,” he hummed non committedly. “But that doesn’t sound like the abnormal illnesses we usually deal with. Was there no physical evidence of any type of disease? You sure it couldn’t be a cold? What made her certain it was an abnormal malady?”

“She, um, she asked me if I had any . . . romantic feelings for anyone,” she admitted. Hiccup raised an eyebrow.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Is that really a necessary question?” she snapped, frowning.

“It is, actually,” he said, not missing a beat. She blinked, taken about. “Do you?” he prompted.

She hesitated, her face twisting ruefully. “Yes,” she hissed, annoyed by such a personal question and his clinical detachment.

“Okay,” he made another note. “I’m going to check your throat and put you through an X-ray even if it’s too early to see anything, and then the doctor can diagnose you.”

A while later she sat stonily on the cot as she processed Dr. Ingerman’s words.

“I have . . . what?” she asked faintly.

“Better known as Hanahaki,” Fishlegs clarified. “It’s a disease one develops in the lungs when they suffer from unrequited love, causing them to cough up flower petals that may or may not develop into full grown flowers until the love is requited, or until the afflicted dies.”

Astrid looked horrified. “It’s fatal?” she demanded.

“Yes,” Fishlegs admitted.

“Okay, but you can cure it, right?” she asked, laughing disbelievingly. “I mean, there’s no way I could actually die from this?”

“Not really,” Fishlegs sighed. “It’s something the patient kind of has to cure. There are cases where it can be removed at the expense of the feelings towards the object of their affections-”

“Perfect. When can I schedule one of those?” she interrupted briskly.

“- But they are very dangerous, have a long recovery period, extremely expensive, and um, we don’t offer them.”

“What!” she cried. 

“We can’t afford to pay a surgeon-” Fishlegs tried to protest, his voice growing smaller as she wagged her finger angrily.

“Listen here,” she began dangerously, rising from the cot, paper rustling ominously. “Dr. Winger said you were the best, but -”

“Atali?” Hiccup interrupted from the corner of the room. He shook his head sadly. “She was lucky. We were able to hold off the Hanahaki for a while until she got the person to fall in love with her.” Astrid snapped her head towards him.

“You can hold it off?” she asked hopefully. “Why didn’t you say so? I -”

“It’s not permanent,” Hiccup said sternly. Fishlegs had retreated to the doorway nervously. Fishlegs may have been the authority in name, but it was Hiccup who dealt with the patients after the initial diagnosis. “It just puts off the inevitable, and it reacts to people differently. Sometimes it has horrendous side effects, and sometimes it speeds up the process of dying after being consumed. It was compatible enough with Atali that it bought her enough time to cure herself, but there is no guarantee, and the longer it takes the more you have to consume. It can only be cured by love, or you die.”

“No,” she said abruptly. “This is - this is ridiculous! Diseases like this don’t exist! You guys must be scammers and I’m - I’m out of here!”

“First stage, denial,” he commented flatly. She glared at him as he followed her out of the room back into the lobby.

“You’re wrong!” she insisted. “This is stupid. I - I - this isn’t real.”

“Come back when you cough up a bloody petal,” Hiccup suggested dryly. “That should be real enough.” She spun on her heel and marched out the door, slamming it behind her.

She was back in three days.

“You again,” Hiccup greeted her. “Still think we’re lying?” She stopped in front of the counter, eyes stony but the fear behind them wasn’t well concealed. She was clutching each of her elbows with the opposite hand. Her blonde hair was loose and a little wild, like she had run her fingers through it quite a few times since she had done it.

“How - how long does it take?” she asked quietly. “To - how long do I have?” Hiccup pushed himself upright and ambled over to the shelves behind him.

“Without this? Usually around a couple months. With this?” He shook the bottle gently. “Um. Longest the patient ever lasted was up to a year.” The blonde stared at the bottle in his hands bleakly.

“A year at most?” she asked faintly. She blinked a few times and gazed at the low ceiling.  

“Yep,” he nodded as he grabbed a notepad and scribbled three pens on it before finding one that worked. “How many petals have you coughed up?” he checked.

“Two,” she replied. “One, um, one a few hours after I saw you guys the first time and the second one this morning.”

“Okay,” Hiccup said, calculating. “You don’t need much of this for now. I would say take a tablespoon - or five milliliters if you want to be exact - twice a week.”

“Only twice a week?” she repeated.

“We don’t know how you’re going to react to it,” he explained. “For some it speeds the process up while it negates the effects of, well, coughing until you either suffocate on petals or drown in your own blood.” She cringed.

“Um, okay. You aren’t pulling any punches here,” she commented.

“You seem like the type of person who likes everything up front,” he replied. “And I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. It’s not pretty. The mortality rate is high, and from what I’ve witnessed over the years the coughing can be a pain.”

“I was just going to ask when I should come back?” Astrid asked.

“If it gets worse, or, if it doesn’t, in two weeks,” he told her. “Although ideally you wouldn’t come back if you got him to love you back.” She looked stricken at the reminder of how to cure herself.

“There really is no other way?” she pleaded. Hiccup frowned at her. 

“Unless you can get the surgery, no,” he answered frankly. “Why are you so against that method, though? Don’t you want them to love you back? You’re a beautiful woman, it wouldn’t be that hard.” Her pretty blue eyes stared at the ground blankly.

“Because . . . because he’s my best friend’s boyfriend.”

~

Three weeks later found her standing at the counter again.

“I - couldn’t,” she confessed ashamedly as she signed her name on the obligatory forms. “I just - Eret’s my best friend’s boyfriend, I can't just steal him like that. I could never do that to her, she’s my best friend, like a sister.”

“This is your life we’re talking about,” Hiccup said sternly as he wrapped the bottles up. “Surely she’d rather lose her boyfriend than have her best friend die. Especially if you guys are like sisters. You need to get him to fall in love with you or you don’t have a chance.”

“But she loves him,” Astrid said helplessly, taking the parcel and digging through her purse for payment. 

“It’s your choice,” Hiccup sighed. “I’m just telling you how I see it.”

“I don’t want to die,” she said resolutely. Hiccup found his mouth twisting unpleasantly. She seemed pretty against doing the one thing to survive.

“You won’t see me again,” she promised as she swiped her card. “Probably.”

~

“Next,” Hiccup said boredly before he looked up at the next customer. A semi familiar head of blonde hair over bashful big blue eyes met his on the other side of the counter. “Oh,” he raised a sardonic eyebrow at her.

“Hi,” she waved shyly.

“Look, I tried, okay?” she argued as Hiccup returned with her X-rays. She had been silent as he had let her to the back and scanned her, unable to meet his disapproving frown. “I tried for a little bit, but seducing him behind my friend’s back is sleazy, and I just couldn’t live with myself.”

“Well why do you have to do it behind her back?” Hiccup asked. “Wouldn’t it be better if you got her on board? Less hurt feelings and guilt, more support?”

“Oh yeah,” she scoffed. “I’ll just go up to her and say, ‘Hey, Heather! So I’m in love with your boyfriend and actually dying because of that, can you get your soulmate to fall in love with me instead? Thanks!’” Hiccup glanced at his clipboard tiredly.

“You say it’s settled further in your chest now instead of your throat?” he checked. Astrid nodded, biting her lip. He looked at her seriously. “You should up your dosage to every other day,” he instructed. “If that doesn’t keep it at bay, come back in and we can get you on the stronger stuff.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“It’s only getting worse,” he said tightly. “Do you need help raising money or something? I know people - we could help.” Astrid shook her head.

“That surgery isn’t a guaranteed result, and the recovery process - I’d lose all my grants,” she grimaced.

“You could lose your life if you don’t do anything now,” Hiccup pressed.

“I’ll find a way out of it,” she insisted. She cleared her throat and reached for the package, covering her mouth with her other hand. Hiccup watched as she left, worry creasing his brow. One of these days, he’d see her walk away for the last time.

~

The next time she came in she had an attack right at the counter.

“Astrid!” he cried concernedly as she burst into a fit of coughing in the middle of her sentence. He hurried around the counter and patted her back, rubbing soothing circles until a lone petal surrounded by spittle and fluid fell out of her mouth onto a (thankfully) clear part of the table. He frowned.

“Hmm,” he picked the slick pink petal to examine it. “There’s blood now. Is this new?”

“Yeah,” she rasped. “Since last week.”

It was a pink anemone flower. It had slightly different meanings in different cultures, but he remembered the Ancient Greeks believed it had sprung from the blood of a slain lover, and in Japan the flower was also used for funeral arrangements. How fitting, a flower that came from blood and represented death. The pink was pale verging on white, making the bright specks of blood stand out like fresh rubies on white sheets.

“Why didn’t you come in then?” he demanded. “We can’t treat you if we don’t know how the illness is progressing.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, wiping her mouth with a tissue. “I just - if you guys didn’t tell me it was worse it wasn’t true.” Hiccup felt a pang at the pain in her voice, and reached out unthinkingly for her hand. She squeezed it automatically.

“You shouldn’t be coughing that hard then,” Hiccup frowned. “I’ll see if we can treat the cough separately. Let’s get you X-rayed again,” he said as he led her to the back.

“I’m not even going to say it,” he shook his head as he entered the room. Her face drew together angrily. “But, you know, I was starting to be relieved you weren’t coming back. I thought maybe you’d cured yourself.”

“I don’t want to break them up,” she insisted. “They love each other; they don’t deserve this.”

“And you do?” Hiccup asked keenly. She looked away.

“This way it’s only hurting one person,” she whispered. Hiccup felt panic bob in his throat painfully. How dare she feel this way? Could she not see there were people who cared for her and would feel her loss acutely. And he wasn’t talking about himself, no. He just could tell every time she came in and he got to know her better that she was special, and the world would be so much worse in her absence. His heart clenched at the thought. No, he wanted to say. It’ll hurt more than just you.

“Have you thought about getting it removed?” he asked desperately.

“From the research I’ve done, the surgery is very taxing on the person - I mean, they have to cut you open and try to scrape the disease out of your lungs - and once it reaches the heart you’re done for. I would never be able to breathe without help and could no longer overexert myself, and the surgery might take away all of my memories about Eret, sure, but so many of them are good - I was friends with him first, you know? And he and Heather are always together. I’m afraid that, I don’t know, but I don’t want to lose her, too. Plus it’s extraordinarily expensive,” she laughed humorously.

“The potion doesn’t put it off forever,” Hiccup warned. “The disease has finished transferring to the lungs and the petals will become more painful and frequent unless you do something about it. And you don’t know if it might get worse faster, depending on how Eret and Heather’s relationship evolves.”

“I know,” she said dully and reached for the parcel he’d brought, bigger than ever before.

So do something about it, he pleaded silently as he set her prescription. But he could see the dwindling light in her eyes. It was growing steadily. She had already given up on the endeavor before she really began..

~

She stormed into the office and slammed her purse on the desk. Hiccup looked up from his notebook, startled. Her eyes were brighter than before, but with the feverish gloss to them, not the healthy shine. “I need more,” she said simply. She shouldn't have been here so soon - she must have been consuming the potions more than she ought, but Hiccup wordlessly guided her to the back of the office to a waiting room. She took a bottle out of her bag and took a swig, throwing her head back like it was a shot of alcohol.

“Hey,” he caught her wrist as it came down. “Careful. You don’t need to drink that much. You should save it.”

“If you don’t let go of me I’m going to throw it,” she threatened in a low voice. He released her wrist quickly.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “If I could have the bottle please?” She handed it to him reluctantly. “How often do you get petals now?” he asked her. She slumped and rubbed her eyes.

“A lot,” she said. “Usually at least three a day, sometimes double that. They don’t come one at a time anymore, either. They usually come as two or three still attached petals.” Hiccup cringed. She caught his expression.

“It’s bad,” she stated. He hesitated.

“It is,” he relented. “But not impossible.” Not yet. She could live if she just tried, but it seemed she’d rather die before she did that.

“I’ve tried to distance myself,” she told him, her shiny eyes pleading. “I was hoping I could just . . . fall out of love.” Hiccup sighed.

“I don’t think that’s ever worked for Hanahaki,” he said sorrowfully. “The absence of requited love is what’s killing you.” She slammed her fist against the cot and he jumped.

“Dammit. Dammit!” she cried. “This is so unfair! I never asked for this! I didn’t want to be in love! I had - I had plans! I have a life! I can’t just die,” her voice broke. “Please don’t let me die.”  The corners of her blue eyes glimmered as she begged him silently, tears threatening to fall despite her valiant efforts.

Hiccup swallowed. This was always the worst part. The part where he had to look these desperate, dying people in the eyes and tell them there was nothing he could do. He couldn't make people love each other - oh, but if only he could.

“I’ll do my best,” he said gravely. “But there isn’t much I can do.” Astrid’s face crumpled. “Have you thought about getting it removed?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” she said, her mouth twisting upwards into a grimace. “I wish I could, but it’s so expensive and I can’t afford it! Even if I had the money - my job, my lifestyle, I could never recover enough to go back to that! And the waiting list for the government to pay for the surgery and rehab is years long, which is stupid because this isn’t the kind of thing that waits.” Hiccup shook his head sadly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Her face contorted and she screamed out loud in rage.

“How could this happen!” she cried. “I don’t want this! Why, why, why did this happen to me?” she sobbed. Hiccup stood there awkwardly, hating his life as he watched her helplessly. He got the feeling she didn’t cry often.

“What were your plans?” he asked when she’d quieted down a little later. Astrid wiped her eyes and squinted at him.

“What?” she asked, her voice still thick and hoarse.

“You said you had - plans. For your life. Before - What were they?” she scoffed.

“What, are you my therapist now?” she asked sardonically, her pretty lips twisting in a scowl. Hiccup shrugged. “I’m free for a couple hours, and it’s cathartic.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “I was, um. I was going to try to make it to the Olympics.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Cool. What, ah, in what?”

“Gymnastics,” she replied. “A gold medal in vault, specifically.”

“Wow,” he commented. “That’d be really amazing. What do you do now?”

“I train, although that’s been getting harder with me coughing up flower petals as often as I do,” she smiled ruefully. “And when I’m not doing that I’m either working at the bookshop or studying.”

“You work at a bookshop?” Hiccup asked, surprised.

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh, I dunno. I just - figured you’d be a waitress or something like that.” She snorted. “Deal with those assholes all the time? I could never. Nah, a bookstore is quiet, and you don’t have to be nice to get paid”

“That’s fair,” Hiccup acknowledged.

“What about you?” Astrid asked.

“What?” he turned to her.

“What about you?” she waved a hand at him. “Tell me about yourself, you know, so this can be an actual conversation instead of awkward venting.” Her voice was nonchalant but her eyes sparkled with curiosity, a welcome change from the despair they had shown only a minute ago.

“Okay,” Hiccup said stupidly. “What do you want to know?”

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Isn’t it depressing, watching all these people dying because they’re too pathetic to get someone to love them?

“It’s not pathetic,” Hiccup responded. “It’s saddening. I mean, look at you,” he pointed at her. “You’re this beautiful woman, and yet you’re still here, dying from flower petals and unrequited love. It’s sad, yeah, but, I don’t know,” he cut himself off but she was looking at him intently, like she was interested in him as a person and he found himself continuing against his will.

“My dad - Hanahaki runs in the family,” he started over. Astrid cocked her head attentively. “And my dad, he caught Hanahaki. My Mom. She, uh, left us when I was a teenager and my Dad didn’t take it very well. He still loved her a lot, and then he caught Hanahaki and wasted away pretty quickly. I took care of him all those months, and it really left an impact on me, I guess. It’s become my kind of whole life’s work. He gestured around the room. “Here, I help people. I give them potions to keep them alive longer so they can make their other person fall in love with them. I - I track their cases and study them, finding the similarities and differences in hopes of finding a cure or at least a better counter effect. And yeah, most of them die but those who don’t? Those that succeed and get cured . . . they’re doing what my dad couldn’t, and I’m a part of that.” She stared at him for a few moments after he’d finished.

“Wow,” she said eventually. “That’s . . . powerful.”

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully. She nodded.

“I can’t imagine the bravery it must take to do this everyday,” she whispered, her eyes searching his face intently. He looked away, embarrassed and scratched the back of his neck bashfully.

“It’s nothing,” he laughed softly.

“No,” she insisted, reaching out to grab his hand. He stilled at the contact, his heart giving a flutter in his chest. “For us, it’s everything.” Hiccup’s throat tightened and he cleared it before he trusted himself to speak again.

“You have to try,” Hiccup told her, the lump in his throat that formed when he was around her forcing a bite in his voice. “What’s the point if you’re never going to try?”

“You don’t understand,” Astrid shook her head. “Heather is - she’s everything to me. She’s like my sister, sure, but she’s . . . she’s the one who’s been with me through thick and thin. I could never take away the one thing she values so much. She’s . . . relationships have never come easy. To either of us. And now she’s finally found her one - how could I possibly want to take that away from her.”

“Astrid,” Hiccup said in a low voice, crouching slightly to meet her downcast eyes. “If she’s been with you through thick and thin, don’t you think she’d support you now? Do you think she’d want to lose her best friend and isn’t even there to help through her chronic illness because you refused to tell her? This Eret guy, he sounds great, but is their love worth more than your life?”

“She would!” Astrid cried. “She would give him up for me, I know it. But she wouldn’t forgive me for it. And, even if she tried to make Eret fall in love with me - which she would - he genuinely loves her, he would never replicate my love with her around.”

“So you’d just never even try,” he scoffed, standing abruptly and pacing a few steps away from her.

“I -” she opened her mouth indignantly. “That’s not-”

“That’s exactly what this is!” Hiccup cried, spinning around to point at her angrily. A tight knot formed in his chest and rose to the bottom of his throat, uncomfortable as he tried to force his voice around it.

“Why are you angry?!” she cried.

“Because you’re supposed to be the one who’s successful!” he yelled at her. “You’re supposed to be the beautiful woman I was able to save!! You’re not supposed to give up when I’ve invested so much in you!”

“How dare you!” she cried. “I’m not just an investment you can show off!”

“No, no you’re not,” Hiccup spat. “You’re a person and I broke the rules of staying detached to cases because I started to care about you as a person, and now you’re forcing me to watch you die because you won’t even try to save yourself.”

“I-”

“And it’s not your fault for getting Hanahaki, but it is your fault for giving up here, and you’re not the one who has to suffer the consequences!”

“That’s - you’re wrong, okay! That’s not - you don’t understand or even know anything about me! We’re not friends! All you know about me is that I’m dying, but you have no idea who I am otherwise! And you have no right to make assumptions about something you know nothing about.”

“You may not have told me your whole sob story but I’m sure I could guess,” Hiccup sneered. “Let’s see; lonely successful girl. I’m guessing your parents were emotionally unavailable, and dropped you off at sports so you didn’t bother them. Never came to any of your games, and you tried to be the very best in a bid for their approval. You probably went through a rebellion phase in your late teenage years, but your friend Heather has been a steady rock for years now. So when you saw her enter a healthy and fulfilling relationship, you wanted one too. But instead of finding one for yourself, you latched onto the one right in front of you and fixated on Eret. And because of your emotional instability, you equated the ability to make Eret -  a man happily taken and out of your reach - in love with you determine whether or not you were truly lovable, allowing the Hanahaki to take root because you’ve hinged your entire life and expectations on this unattainable goal. So now you’re dying, and you feel so guilty you’re willing to let that happen despite your desperate need to actually live life to its fullest.” His chest was heaving by the time he was finished, and Astrid mute in shock.

“You didn’t branch out with any of your relationships - romantic or platonic.” he continued. “And the awful thing is maybe you could have avoided this if you put yourself out there and made a few more meaningful relationships.” Astrid shook her head avidly and backed away. “I can’t -” she said, her voice so small it was hard to hear. “I-” she stumbled on the worn carpet and almost ran out the door, leaving Hiccup to sink in his seat and wonder what he had just done.

He slammed his hand on the desk, rustling the papers. His hand stung, and he filled himself a glass of water to soothe his throat, raw from yelling at her. An old vase caught his eye, the water in it long evaporated, leaving that disgusting brown sticky residue at the bottom, the long dead pink roses shriveled up forlornly. He and Fishlegs had tried to brighten up the space with flowers a while ago before stopping after realizing what a slap in the face it was. He threw the dried stalks out the window and washed the vase out. He hated pink flowers. He hated pretty girls who didn’t try to live. And most of all, he hated the fact he still cared when every person he cared about died from this stupid disease.

~

He was honestly surprised to see her again. He heard the click of her shoes on the stairs but didn’t dare look up to check who it was before she was standing in front of him.

“Hi,” she said quietly, and Hiccup snapped his head up to look at her.

“What?” he cried, scrambling upwards. “I, I - uh. I didn’t think you were coming back.”

“I still need the potions,” she said awkwardly, looking embarrassed. Hiccup deflated.

“Right. Yeah, sorry.” He turned to gather a few bottles - four, now, because she was starting to go through them unnervingly fast. “I also, um-”

“I want to apologize first,” Astrid interrupted.

“Wha-What?” Hiccup asked. “No, I’m the one-”

“I said some pretty awful things too,” Astrid insisted.

“Fine,” Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Go ahead.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I um. You were right. About me. I don’t know how because no one’s supposed to know about that. . . my inner feelings. I mean, I didn’t even know them. So also, thank you? For exposing me because I probably never would have confronted them on my own.”

“You’re - welcome? I am also sorry. I should never have yelled at you and presumed to know everything about you.”

“You said something about how this could have been avoided if I had more friends,” Astrid began. Hiccup opened his mouth to take those words back but she held up a hand. “And you’re kind of right,” she acknowledged. “Plus, I’m avoiding Heather and Eret so I’m lonely, and you’re the only one who really knows what’s going on with me and everything.”

“So you’re saying . . .” he trailed off.

“I’d like for us to be friends,” she clarified. “Like, outside of this clinic.”

“Really?” he asked.  Hiccup’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yes,” she said, nonplussed. “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I wasn’t serious.”

“I - yeah, I know that. Kinda. But I mean, you want to be friends? With me? After everything?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And not despite everything, but rather because of it. I mean, like you said, you’re already too emotionally invested and I could use an actual friend who knows what’s going on. Plus, you’re a pretty cool guy. I’m sure we’d have fun together.” Seeing his hesitation she added, “Please? Do it as my dying wish?” That brought a scowl to his face.

“Fine. I accept,” he pointed a finger at her. “Not because you’re dying, though, but rather in spite of it.”

“Great!” she smiled. “Would you be free to meet up sometime this weekend?” Hiccup sighed and nodded. Whatever he was getting himself into, he knew it wouldn’t be healthy for him. And yet, seeing the simple wish in her eyes for a friend, how could he possibly deny her? Besides, he’d always wanted a friend too.

~

Being Astrid’s friend was dangerous, because he got exposed to her magnetic force that had drawn him in when he only saw her with weeks in between, but she had latched onto him, seeking his company like her life depended on it, which was ironic. And he would get caught up in her lively laughter, her smiles, her dry perspective on life with that hint of whimsy underneath. She made him feel more alive than he had in years, but then he’d be privy to all her dosages of that damned potion. He’d watch as a thought of Eret crossed her mind and she’d double over, hacking so hard he’d have to wait before administering the potion so she could have a chance of digesting it, and each time he’d worry this would be the last cough and she’d die before he could pour that time-stealing liquid down her throat.

The disease had grown stronger. It thrived and originated off of unrequited love, yes, but that didn’t stop it from permeating every aspect of Astrid’s life - and now, his. He’d lost count of how many nights he’d stayed over at her place, holding back her hair as she drained her life out into the toilet, rubbing soothing circles along her back and whispering you’re gonna be okay. This isn’t it. Here, take this. Breathe. No - no, it’s alright. It’s okay. I’m still here. Yeah, I’ve got it right here. You’ll be okay, Astrid.

He told her he was the one who created the potion and why he wasn’t the official doctor instead of Fishlegs.

“But that’s amazing!” she exclaimed. “I mean, you made a successful remedy all on your own? And you were so young then, too. Surely that deserves a Nobel Prize or something.” He sighed.

“It doesn’t work like that,” he admitted. “I didn’t follow protocol . . . I did some pretty illegal things, and I went through a pretty shady testing process. And I don’t think they’d want to acknowledge someone like me was the one to come up with it and reveal how I was smart enough to go behind their backs, revealing them to be incompetent, or how Hanahaki wasn’t exactly as uncommon as they thought.” He usually had at least one customer every day, some of them from all over the world pleading for the tonic. He never had the heart to charge them, not when they had given up everything for this small chance.

He brought out his journals to show her one day when she felt too sick to get out of bed. “I didn’t document all of the cases, but, you know, most of them are there,” he shrugged as he dumped them on her plush duvet.

“How many years ago do they date back?” she asked.

“Since I was seventeen,” he replied. “Just over ten years now.” She flipped through the pages, complimenting his drawings of all the different flowers and crying sometimes at the struggles of the people recorded on the faded, cheap pages. So many had died, unable to stand a chance against the relentless flowers. There were few successful cases. She lingered particularly long on Dr. Atali’s.

“You know,” Hiccup said quietly after he cleaned her vomit up for the tenth time that day. “I have this theory that maybe Hanahaki could be cured by something other than the person you’re in love with.”

“Really?” Astrid asked weakly. “Do share.”

“I dunno,” he stared at her stained sheets. He hadn’t known how to clean them the first time she had gotten blood on them, but had since gotten better with lots and lots of practice. “From what I’ve observed, Hanahaki develops to literally fill a hole in your heart. I’d always hoped- I wondered if the cure is always that person’s requited love, or if it could ever be someone else’s.”

“What do you mean?” Astrid asked.

“Don’t get all excited,” Hiccup warned her. “But what if - what if the diseased could fall in love with someone else - someone who returned their love, and it cured them? I never had the courage to suggest it to a patient, but . . .” he swallowed. “You’re more than that now.” Astrid sat up slowly.

“You’re saying if I could fall in love with someone else I could cure myself?” she asked hopefully.

“No,” he corrected her. “I thought there might be a small possibility.”

“But if I could just like-”

“You have to love them,” he emphasized. “Probably more than you love Eret. And they’d have to love you back entirely. Not just some jerk who’s attracted to your looks and thinks your personality is just a nice bonus; it has to be unconditional. They’d have to love you just as much as you love them, with all their heart.” An unbidden seed sprouted and rose in his throat, but he forced the thought down. Like I do, he wanted to say, but no. No, he was already on dangerous ground. Yes, Astrid was already unlike everyone he’d ever met, but she was still just a friend. It wasn’t more than that. Hiccup knew he had a naturally caring nature and that was why he was so concerned about her, why on the nights he slept in his own rickety slat he woke up in a cold sweat, dreaming he’d wake up in the morning with Astrid gone, choking on her own bile or something equally horrific because he wasn’t there to help her to the bathroom. He cleared his throat, but it came out like a raspy cough.

“But if I found that?” she asked, her voice low, like the subject was sacred.

“There would still be no guarantee,” he said, wanting to swallow again to wet his dry throat.

“What do we have to lose though?” she persisted.

You, he thought.

~

She started to improve, little by little, but Hiccup did not get his hopes up. He had watched enough people to know the respite usually came before the last wave would hit the hardest. Winter came, and along with it a snuffling nose and cold mittens wrapped around his cracked mug. It was also the season for cough drops, and Hiccup consumed many to soothe his itchy, sore throat from the harsh wind, using honey instead of sugar for the time being to sweeten his coffee in the mornings.

“Hey!” a bright voice greeted him and he couldn’t help but smile even as his heart twisted in his chest. His theory had given her hope and it pained him to think of what would happen when it was proven wrong. There was also an ugly pain in the back of his mind at thinking of watching her try to fall in love with someone else. Whoever they were, they would never deserve her, and how could the undeserving twit possibly be the one to cure her of her affliction? It wasn’t fair, not with all those late nights and lunch breaks and early mornings he had put into taking care of her. For what would happen once she was free from the need of his stupid potions? None of his successful cases had ever stuck around, too caught up in their honeymoons of feelings and relief to care about him. He had used to wish he wouldn’t see her again when she’d first started to come in so he could believe she’d been successful in her cure, but now he couldn’t bear it. They were friends now, but that was because he was the only other person she had that wouldn’t cause her to die quicker.

“Wow,” she commented gently, bringing him out of his reverie. “You look like you’re thinking a lot.”

“No more than usual,” he replied blithely. “You look especially light hearted today, practically radiant.” He froze as his words registered. He hadn’t meant to compliment her. But then, maybe he could let it slide this time as Astrid’s cheeks warmed with a delicious pink not from the cold. She studied the dusty floor for a little bit, recovering her composure before she spoke again.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began.

“Thor help me,” he muttered. She smacked his arm lightly and he laughed. “Seriously,” she complained. “I’ve been thinking about your theory.” Hiccup’s smile dwindled.

“Astrid, it’s just a theory. There’s no research behind it. You can’t put too much hope in it; it’s never been tried before.”

“Well, then I can try it and you can add it to your research even if it’s a dead end -” she cut herself off with a laugh at the pun while Hiccup tried not to choke at the idea. “And refer to it with your other patients.”

“Astrid-” he began.

“You’re not going to stop me,” Astrid interrupted. “I think your idea has merit and I’m going to try it if it’s the last thing I do. Remember what you said four months ago before we were friends?”

“I said a lot of things,” he groaned, already knowing that Astrid had won the argument. A fond, tickling sensation made itself known in his esophagus and he tried to ignore it.

“You said you think I latched on to Eret because I just wanted a relationship for myself! So my Hanahaki isn’t even as emotionally tied to the subject of my affections the same way others might have been. I have a chance, Hiccup,” she pleaded. “And it’s given me hope. Besides, I’ve already chosen my guy.”

This time Hiccup did choke. “What?” he spluttered.

“I have a guy that I’m . . . developing feelings for,” she said breezily, like her words weren’t crawling into his chest like thorny roots and piercing his lungs. “And I think he would meet all the requirements if I got him to care for me, which I’m confident I can do.”

“Oh,” Hiccup said stupidly. His heart sank at the thought of her smiling at some unknown face with that sparkle in her eyes. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it had, because, well, wasn’t she supposed to be in love with someone else already? He imagined her laughing over coffee with this unknown guy, bright blue eyes and pink cheeks with those adorable bangs falling into her eyes and making her toss her head endearingly. He was probably handsome and muscular and cleaned his room and didn’t run a slightly illegal rundown, decrepit pharmacy that had needed a new coat of paint for the last four years. He fought against a petulant frown.

Astrid rolled her eyes at him and he felt indignant. What else was he supposed to say? “Um, well let’s talk about this some more at lunch,” he suggested, feeling like an idiot.

“Perfect,” she flashed bright white teeth at him and bounced out of the room. He followed her with his eyes and then his ears until he heard the door close downstairs before he doubled over in a coughing fit. He coughed and coughed and coughed but that soft bit of mucus just wasn’t coming out so he staggered over to the sink to continue hacking. He felt something slimy on the back of his tongue and frantically tried to spit it out. It was a large glob that . . . didn’t feel like a glob. As he wagged his tongue, a feeling of dread settled in his stomach. He spit, and it landed in the sink, clear in its condemnation.

A blue oleander petal lay starkly against the stained steel of the sink. He stared at it unblinkingly, his mind running through all the coughs from his cold in the past weeks, the itches from the weeks before. The tickling sensations all those months ago. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He was supposed to be the one who caught himself before this happened!!

A blue oleander. Sometimes he had tried to find amusement in the bleak stream of dying patients and had rated the different flowers that came out of their mouth. Cherry blossoms were the most common, followed by roses, and boy, were those horrific. Cherry blossoms were small enough, and while they killed just as easily, there was something particularly gruesome about roses. They were huge, and of the three people he’d watched hack roses out of their throats, the flowers had been whole. With stems. And thorns. He remembered the first time he had seen someone reach into their mouth and tug the rose out, sobbing in pain as the thorns caught and shredded their throat. They hadn’t known whether to spit the blood out or try to swallow it. Hiccup had thrown up that night when he’d gone home.

But blue oleander. That was a new plant. Fitting, given that he had named his business after it. It was a simple plant with small, brightly colored flowers. He knew his oleanders well. The red ones were good for decorations while the purple ones had healing properties. But the blue ones, well. They were poisonous. To humans and other creatures. If the myths about dragons were true, the beasts couldn’t sniff one without being affected. Humans, on the other hand, would have to ingest a good amount of concentrate for the flowers to have any serious negative effect, but the fact he had poisonous flowers growing somewhere in his lungs? Well that didn’t fill him with dread at all.

He’d also never seen this flower up close. Due to their poisonous nature, blue oleanders were banned in multiple countries. The pictures had never done its color justice. The petals were a stark electric blue - rather like Astrid’s eyes, he realized.

“Is it contagious?” a patient had asked once. She had been a frail girl of twelve. She hadn’t lasted long. Hiccup remembered crouching down in front of her to meet her worried eyes and flashing her a crooked smile.

“No,” he had assured her kindly. “No, it’s not contagious.”

But at that moment, it felt like it was. He felt like he had kissed a hundred people with tuberculosis in one room and believed he was perfectly safe. He had exposed himself to her, and now he had caught the deadly disease. How ironic, that he had caught it now, after falling in love with a person who had it for someone else.

Oh, this was just his luck! He knew that he was particularly susceptible to Hanahaki, but as the lonely years had gone by he hadn’t ever thought he’d actually catch it! Not when he never got out enough to form attachments to anybody. Of course, the universe hated him, so the person he’d fall for so hard it’d cause him to die would be a girl who was already dying because she was in love with someone else.

And now she was trying to fall in love with someone else. People had never been successful in falling out of love to escape their Hanahaki, but he sincerely hoped that their method would just be more like a transfer, filling the requirement of reciprocation. But what guy could she mean? Who could she have possibly been seeing? It wasn’t jealousy that made him wonder, simply protectiveness. She was sick and ready to latch onto anyone who would help her - who was he to know if this other guy didn’t have alternate ambitions?

And, selfishly, he didn’t want to be the one to break his heart and give his life to cure her so she could bestow her love on another man. That was awful of him, he knew, but he was dying, couldn’t he think mean things?

But she’d never return his feelings. How could she? She was so far out of his league there was no way she could ever feel the same. She was a successful young woman, ambitious and hardworking. How could he and his run down business, peeling paint, and awkward self ever hope to match her?

His affliction progressed at an exponential rate. The thing about Hanahaki being tied to love was that the more he loved her, the more it hurt (the more he died). So he brought his own bottles of remedies and swigged a great gulp before he knocked on her door and she opened it with a smile. When she’d start coughing he’d jump out of his chair to get her a bottle, and take a sip as he was returning it to the medicine cabinet. She didn’t have much time left, as she was coughing all the time now, not just when she thought about Eret or maybe the other guy.

And it was painful, trying to support her while she talked about her new guy with shining eyes, catching her when she coughed so loudly she couldn’t stand.

“You know, even if this doesn’t work, at least you’ll have tried, right?” she’d said after she caught the worried look in his eyes. “I’ll go in your journal - you’ll make my portrait pretty, right?”

No, he thought. Because I probably won’t last long enough after you.

~

“Hey,” are you okay?” Astrid started asking as he was excusing himself from the room nearly every minute.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured her.

“Are you sure?” she checked. Her hair was falling distractingly over her shoulder, her pink lips pressed together in concern. He felt a flower start to build in his throat again. While Astrid’s Hanahaki had been petals upon petals - the type of illness where the infected usually died of suffocation instead of drowning - Hiccup had whole flowers coming out of his mouth. The stamens and filaments along with the petals. The full on stems and leaves had not yet arrived, so he had some time, but gods, it felt like he was already dead

“Mhm,” he smiled tightly at her. “Of course. I just - I just need the bathroom.” He backed away, trying to breath slowly as his throat clogged up with flower heads.

“Again?”

“Yes,” he bit out as gently as he could. “When you gotta go you gotta go!” He fled to the other room, refusing to be embarrassed by what he’d just said. Yes, he was dying, but did he really have to insinuate he had terrible bladder control in front of the gorgeous girl he liked? Part of him contemplated throwing up the flowers down the toilet but if one petal didn’t get flushed his secret would be out. He snuck to the pantry instead, grabbing paper towels that he carefully spit into, his stomach curling in disgust. He folded the towels and stuffed them into his back pocket, to be later hidden in  his bag. He let out another cough and reached for a bottle, uncorking his and closing his eyes in relief as he took a sip.

“-Hiccup?” His eyes flew open in surprise and he inhaled the drink. “Oh no!” she reached for him and he shied away reflexively, ignoring the way her beautiful face fell.

“I’m fine!” he gasped as he coughed to clear his throat. “Really, just - went down the wrong pipe.”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

“I - I was just thirsty?” he tried.

“Why are you drinking that?” she asked sharply, jutting her chin towards the bottle still in his hand. His eyes widened in panic and he pretended they were widening in realization.

“What the - Whaaaat? Oh my God, this wasn’t what I meant to pick up! Ha ha . . . that explains why it tasted so funny.” Astrid grabbed the bottle from his hand.

“Stop lying to me,” she ordered, her voice growing thick with intimidation. “Why are you drinking your potion?”

“I wanted to see how it tasted?” he tried.

“The truth, Hiccup!” she yelled. She let out a cough, a couple light pink petals falling from her mouth, and Hiccup had the stupidest urge to cough with her.

“I-” his voice was strained from holding the cough in.

“Please, tell me what’s happening,” she said desperately. “Why are you always running away? Lying to me? Am I doing something - am I making you uncomfortable? I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry about all of this. I - trust me, I don’t want to do this either. I thought you wouldn’t mind - I mean. But this - you - don’t tell me -”

“Of course not,” Hiccup interrupted. The only thing he had left was the dignity of not being hopelessly in love with her. His hand went automatically to his back pocket. Her eyes followed his hand and he gave in to the unbearable suffocating itch in his throat. As he bent over she lunged for his pocket, dragging the bunched up paper towel. He cried out, trying to grab it back but she was quick, dancing out of his reach as he had to hack again, stiff leaves and petals scraping the raw insides of his throat. She undid the wad of paper towel just as he spit out his own plant. She dropped the package in horror, bright blue flowers falling onto the wooden floor next to Hiccup’s whole flower. It was a wet, drowned reminder of a romantic gesture. A part of him almost wanted to pick it off the floor and present it to Astrid, the way a suitor might pick a pretty, blooming flower for his lady.

“No,” she whispered brokenly. Her knees gave out from under her and she collapsed onto the floor. “No no no no nononono.”

“Astrid,” he reached a hand out to her shoulder but hesitated. She would probably push his touch away. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I really - I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“How long?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Not long,” he sighed. “It’s just - powerful. Very powerful.” She let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh.

“Who is it?” she asked dangerously.

“Astrid-”

“Who is the bitch that got your love and never returned it!” she cried loudly. “Who? Who is the other person who is doubtless better than me? WHO is killing you?!!! Why -” her face crumpled and she tried to stifle a sob. “Why is it never me?”

“Astrid-”

“No!” she wailed. “You don’t understand! I was - you were my hope! It was supposed to work!! And all this time - all this time you were keeping this from me!”

“No, wait-”

“Who is it?” she demanded, grabbing the front of his shirt and his eyes fought to not flutter shut and imagine her kissing him. “I’ll storm over to them and demand they love you back-”

“That’s not necessary,” he assured her.

“You can’t die!” she exploded. “You’re not allowed! I’m not going to let you! Please! Live. If one of us has to go it should be me-”

“Hey,” Hiccup cupped her face, silencing her. “I - I know you don’t want me to die. And I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d feel bad and I want - I want you to be happy. I want you to make it out of this alive. Ever since - Even when I first met you I never wanted you to come back if it meant you were still alive. And every time you did, I wanted to cure you more and more. You have always been the one who deserves to live. And I - I had a crush on you, okay? I liked you so I was trying to help but then we became actual friends and - oh, this is so messed up,” he groaned.

She sank to the floor. “So the person you’re . . .” she trailed off.

“It’s you, Astrid,” he admitted, his eyes shut tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“Wh-”

“I know you already like someone else and you’re trying to get them to fall in love with you. I would never want to intrude on that.”

“Hiccu-”

“And I really didn’t want to offend you, because, I mean, who would want me? I’m just - it’s pathetic and I knew there was no hope so I didn’t want to worry you and-”

“HICCUP!” she shouted and he cringed. She grabbed him by the shirt again violently. “I’m going to need you to stop for one second because I just find it so incredibly rude that you think I wouldn’t be head over heels in love with you. You’re amazing! You’ve dedicated your life to helping people - strangers! And you’re smart and you’re funny and kind and handsome-” she broke off her rant with a wet laugh.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked, blinking back tears. “Why do you think I kept coughing more when you were around? Why - why do you think I told you about my plan to make a guy I’d been spending a lot of time with and had gotten feelings for to like me? Why do you think keeping the fact you were dying hurt me so much?”

Hiccup blinked.

“I love you, you stupid, dense brick of a man! I love you, Hiccup. I - I - I-” She smashed her lips onto his ferociously and his shoulders sagged in relief. Somehow - and he was most likely wrong - she had confessed her love for him and now they were kissing. This was beyond his wildest dreams - okay, maybe not his wildest - but, well, even if this was just a dream, why not take advantage of it? He brought a hand to cup the back of her head, tangling it in her golden hair and angling her face as she shifted herself into his lap on the floor.

“You love me?” he asked as they broke apart for air.

“You’re an idiot,” she snarled half heartedly, punching him in his left shoulder. But before he had time to wince she pulled him in for another kiss. Something loosened in his throat and suddenly all those petals that had been there, threatening to burst again seemed to disappear.

They were in a dark pantry, bloody flowers and wet paper towels littering the floor around them, and Hiccup was sure it was the most romantic scene he’d ever beheld.

~

“It worked,” Hiccup said, shaking his head in amazement as his pencil hovered above the journal’s page. “We actually transferred the Hanahaki subject to someone else. You were sick for me, not Eret.” How was it possible to feel smug about her having a deathly illness regarding him? He wouldn’t think it possible, but here he was.

“You were also sick,” Astrid reminded him. “It happened around the same time I decided to try to transfer it onto you.”

“What?” Hiccup exclaimed. “No way.”

“Yeah-huh,” Astrid nodded. “Coincidence? I think not.”

“You’re saying that in transferring the subject of your Hanahaki, so to speak, the disease infected the new subject too?”

“We are dealing with the unprecedented,” Astrid shrugged. “It’s entirely possible.”

“But I already had a crush on you,” Hiccup argued. “I just couldn’t admit it until I was spitting bloody flowers out.”

“Well, maybe it only affected you because you already had feelings for me,” she conceded. Her eyes sparkled. “But what we do know for sure is that we’ve successfully cured Hanahaki disease for someone else.” Hiccup’s head snapped up to meet hers.

“Do you know what this means?” he exclaimed, standing up from his chair to pace around the room.

“I think so,” she smiled softly.

“I mean,” he amended. “We were pretty lucky, it might not work again if the other person isn’t already in love, but -” he laughed disbelievingly.

“We have a cure for Hanahaki,” he repeated. “We can . . . people don’t have to die anymore.”

“As long as we pair them up well,” Astrid added. “Maybe we should add ‘matchmaking’ to our services.” Hiccup rolled his eyes at her teasingly.