[Sokka and Hiccup have been sitting on their butts in front of Jim's door for almost all of the twenty-four hours, waiting for him to revive. It hadn't been more than three or four hours ago that Sokka had finally dozed off, exhausted-- it made the waiting easier, in any case.
When the mirror's shattering echoed into the hallway he startles awake, scrambling to his feet faster than his brain can process what just happened. He had to wake up enough to remember where he was first, and then--]
W-was that Jim?
[Stupid question? Yes. There was no one there other than Hiccup to care.]
[Hiccup jerks awake and blinks at Sokka. He heard it too, but his head is foggy from been ripped so suddenly from his dreams. He's not even sure he heard Sokka right.
[Sokka frowns-- it's fairly obvious that Hiccup was crying at some point, Sokka's just not sure when. The streaks through the dirt on the other teen's face match the trails on Sokka's own; they're just easier to see on the Viking. He offers a hand to help him up, and nudges Jim's door with his free hand.
Unlocked, open, like always.
He pushes at the door and it swings open with a quiet creak. He glances back to Hiccup before speaking again.]
[That was the last thing he fully remembered hearing then-- Sokka's voice calling to him. Except that time had been more urgent, this time was... not so much.
He stayed where he was in the bathroom doorway and he wishes to God he could stop his tears. He doesn't want to see them, doesn't want to talk about what happened. He screwed up, he knows he did, he doesn't need them to rub it in. That thought makes his muscles tense more than they already were, hands gripping at the hair loose around his shoulders. He can feel the blood from his knuckles starting to trickle around the arms he'd been holding.
Jim clenches his eyes shut tightly. Maybe if he wishes enough, they'll leave him alone.]
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When the mirror's shattering echoed into the hallway he startles awake, scrambling to his feet faster than his brain can process what just happened. He had to wake up enough to remember where he was first, and then--]
W-was that Jim?
[Stupid question? Yes. There was no one there other than Hiccup to care.]
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...why do his cheeks feel funny?]
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Unlocked, open, like always.
He pushes at the door and it swings open with a quiet creak. He glances back to Hiccup before speaking again.]
Jim?
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He stayed where he was in the bathroom doorway and he wishes to God he could stop his tears. He doesn't want to see them, doesn't want to talk about what happened. He screwed up, he knows he did, he doesn't need them to rub it in. That thought makes his muscles tense more than they already were, hands gripping at the hair loose around his shoulders. He can feel the blood from his knuckles starting to trickle around the arms he'd been holding.
Jim clenches his eyes shut tightly. Maybe if he wishes enough, they'll leave him alone.]
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