#medcember

Undiagnosed Chronic Illness

Septic Shock

Field Medicine

Sedation

Quarantine

Seizure

Transfusion

Rare Diseases

Life Support

Flare-Ups

Wound Care

Intensive Care Unit

Paralysis

Medical Error

Anaphlyaxis

Bedside Vigil

Organ Failure

Accident & Emergency

Recovery

Last Resort

Resuscitation

Goodbye

Chronic Illness

Stab Wound

Extended Stay

Smoke Inhalation

Gun Shot Wound

Road Traffic Accident

Crush Injury

Fight, Flight, or Freeze

Red & Blue Lights

Alt Prompts

Amputation

Coughing Up Blood

Frost Bite

Emergency Surgery

Head Injury

It is Viggo himself who puts Hiccup away in this jail cell. With an air of arrogance and smug with victory, he drags him inside and locks the door behind him. After weeks completely on his own, he finally came to him, just as Viggo thought he would. Because a home with his enemy is still better than no home at all.

"I hope you'll excuse your quarters, they are only temporary, of course. We have to make sure you're healthy before we let you join us," Viggo tells him in his usual suave voice. Though it's soaked in that arrogance that Hiccup despises.

Turning around to face him, Hiccup stares at him with a dead look in his eyes. He's covered in grime and dirt, scrapes and bruises. There's blood on him like he's been fighting every day for weeks. But then, suddenly falling without the entire group he used to lead and depend on can do that to a person. Especially if dragons were a part of that group.

"I told you, I didn't get bitten," Hiccup claims as he steps forward to grab hold of the bars, his tone hard. He just came here to join Viggo's stupid band of bastards and savages, why does he have to make it hard?

"Oh, I know, this is simply… assurance," Viggo puts a dramatic pause there. He takes great joy out of seeing the defeat in his young adversary. It does his soul good to see him broken.

Now to rebuild him in exactly the way he wants him to be. Now that will be fun.

"Don't worry, my Dear, it's only for a week. The men will be reassured and then you can begin your new life with us. After all your time spend alone out there, I'm sure a mere seven days will be a breeze," as he tells him, Hiccup's eyes narrow and he swears there's still a hint of defiance there. As expected of the young man, but he'll fix that soon enough.

"Now sit and don't cause any trouble," he orders him with delight. Still scowling, Hiccup does as he's told and takes a seat on that hard bed inside his cell.

"Good boy."

Viggo leaves him after reassuring him that it will only be a mere seven days of captivity before he'll be let out again and Hiccup glares daggers into his back.

Sighing, he hunches forward to lean with his elbows on his knees, except that makes him hiss and that is not a good idea. He came this far, the last thing he should do is draw attention to something he doesn't want attention drawn to.

It wasn't one of the Hunters who checked him for bites, it was Viggo himself and it had been a close call then, too. He made him strip half of him, made him go topless and even remove his binder "just to be sure." Made him take off his shoes and socks and even his prosthetic leg. But his arms, his legs, his upper body were all clear. Viggo put his hands on him and felt around. Hiccup is covered in blood and filth and injuries, after all.

Until it came time to remove his jeans shorts.

"No!" He had screamed, grasping his belt tightly. "There are people watching!"

And it had been believable enough of a lie that Viggo had simply barely hidden his smirk, his eyes promising the much younger man, in his late teens, that this is a gift he'll be opening later.

Unfortunately for him, it's Hiccup who will be doing the opening.

Sitting upright and trying desperately to keep his noises of pain to himself, he looks down and spots the tiny red blotch on the inside of his right thigh. Viggo really should've questioned just why his jeans- when Hiccup has only ever worn non-denim pants that cover every inch of his legs- suddenly ends just above his knees and is considerably cleaner than the rest of him.

But Hiccup knows when a prideful man is much too blinded by his own victory to notice the obvious.

That he's been bitten in the one place he hoped they wouldn't check. On purpose.

It took some planning. Safely capturing one of the undead to then get bitten by it before letting it go in the hopes that it would get at least one Hunter. The hours spend afterwards treating his wound when the Undead's Bite notoriously burns and burns and burns. It had to be cleaned, stitched and wrapped up in a way so that blood wouldn't immediately seep through clean clothes even if he tore stitches and make his entire plan fall through. The clean jeans he had to find before the walking dead. Because ironically, he had to keep his bite clean.

And then came the days of wandering back to Viggo's base, the days of pretending like the heat of the very sun wasn't radiating from his wound. Luckily, prior experience with pain helped with that fact. And luckily, his unbathed appearance helped cover up the fact that he's sick. He downed plenty of fever-killing medicine each day. Arguably doing his body a disservice, but it only needed to last him until tonight.

He was going to die anyway. Just like Toothless, Astrid, Stormfly, Fishlegs, Meatlug, Snotlout, Hookfang, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, Barf and Belch, Heather, Windshear, Dagur, Shattermaster.

And all of this death for what? Because Viggo wanted him and Hiccup had said "no."

Well, he gets to have him now and Hiccup hopes he'll be everything Viggo has ever wanted.

Leaning down further, careful not to make any noises of pain, Hiccup pulls back the duct tape on his prosthetic leg. It made it look like there is some kind of huge crack in the plastic that he tried to fix, but it was no accident. This is place is always were he keeps his knife.