#what if you. were an incredibly self-hating gay man. and you chose to confess to a priest in the town you just moved into | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toopliss-chewtoy · 8 years ago

Text

Hard Coded - Ch. 5/8

I’m so, so sorry for how much time there is between chapters >.< So many other little things that come between it that distract me... oh well, better late then never. A pretty long chapter this time too, please bear with it!

The glorious art in this chapter was done by @rokutsubasa61! She does great stuff, so be sure to have a look when you finish reading :D - J.

[Read from the start] Size: 4282 words Warnings: Author chose not to show warnings - some apply! Also on AO3

Chapter 5

“No cellphones at the table,” Stoick said with a stern frown.

“Sorry, dad.”

Hiccup put his phone away and continued to eat. His steak was pretty good - thanks to the fact Gobber did all the cooking - but his mind was distracted with other things. Things related to a specific white-haired boy.

“Who were you texting, anyway?”

“Just a friend from school.” A friend who he’d been going out with for a couple of weeks now, but that was on a strict need-to-know basis only. He didn’t want to talk about that, not with his dad anyway.

“Who?”

“Does it matter?” Hiccup gave his father a sarcastic stare.

“I’ve never seen you text this much before.”

The teen thought about that. He seriously doubted that he really texted Jack that much around his father. What was he going on about?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Humor me.”

The tension in the room was palpable.

“Why are you so insistent? What’s it to you who I’m texting with, it’s just a friend.”

“Just a friend.” Stoick grumbled. “Is it that white-haired lad?”

“Yes… he has white hair.” Hiccup frowned. “How do you know?”

“I saw you kiss him.”

All colour drained from Hiccup’s cheeks, reducing his complexion to something very much like Jack’s hair after a fresh dye. “W-what? I-I never-”

“I was done early and going to pick you up because of the weather. You were already in his car.”

It had been raining cats and dogs today, so of course Jack had offered to give him a ride home. Hiccup had kissed him in the car to thank him… and that hadn’t been just a peck on the cheek either. Good Gods! Stoick had seen that! Hiccup was mortified and scared at the same time. He wanted to go back in time to stop his past self from getting in that car and prevent this all from happening. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He wanted Jack to do some weird demonic summoning spell that would instantly transport Hiccup to his bedroom.

“Who is it?” Stoick demanded.

Hiccup considered his options. Maybe this could still be salvaged.

“Jack, from the baseball team. We have science together.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“A few weeks now,” he confessed. This wasn’t how he’d envisioned coming out, but there was no denying it now. He carefully kept his face neutral, doing his best to appear confident. Fake it till you make it, right? In truth, however, his hands were shaking like little twigs in a hurricane-level storm, right there under the table.

“Impossible. You’re not gay,” Stoick said. “It’s in your barcode.”

“Oh please, my barcode-”

“Don’t interrupt me. This is just some futile rebellious act or something, and I will have none of it. You will break up with this boy immediately.” The bearded man gave his son a frightening look, just daring him to try his patience and see how ugly it could get. It took all Hiccup’s self-control to stay calm and not break down to scream or cry or both. Not yet. He had to face his father head on on this one.

“No.”

One word, yet so hard to deliver.

“No?” Stoick’s frown got so deep it put the grand canyon to shame. “You’re grounded until you break up with him. No phone, no internet except for school, and Gobber will bring you to school and pick you up right after.”

“You can’t-”

“I can. Now go to your room.”

Hiccup fled the dining table with his heart hammering in his chest. He went straight up to his room and slammed the door shut. Toothless startled, jumping a foot into the air and landing on the ground with an angry meow.

Hiccup paid him no mind and flung himself on the bed. A white hot rage boiled inside him. At the same time an incredible feeling of betrayal made him want to bawl his eyes out. He’d know his dad wouldn’t take it well, but actually experiencing it still hurt so much. And now part of him wanted to rigorously redecorate his room by throwing all the furniture around, and another part wanted to hide under the blanket and cry.

Stoick hadn’t taken his phone just yet, so Hiccup quickly told Jack as much as he could. He didn’t get a reply before Stoick came to collect the device.

After that it was just him. No connection to anyone outside his room. No support.

At least no-one but Toothless witnessed his breakdown.

Gobber knocked on the study door and went straight in, not needing to wait for an answer. As usual, Stoick was still working. Preparing for meetings, reading background material, answering countless emails - it was a never-ending stream of work. Not that you’d ever hear the man complain. He knew perfectly well what he was getting into when he ran for Mayor with even aspirations beyond that. He’d told Gobber as much when he’d asked him to be his personal assistant. Gobber had accepted that position not just to help his friend, but even more so to make sure at least someone was taking care of Hiccup too.

He’d address what had happened during dinner soon, but first…

“Courier,” Gobber stated.

The big, bearded man frowned. Gobber had seen that turn into his default expression the last few months.

“At this time? What did they bring?”

“The lad won’t say, he’ll only give it to you. Don’t look like much of a courier to me either.” The bald PA shrugged.

“Let him in.”

Gobber went to fetch the odd ‘courier’. If he was really that, because what delivery boy wears such an fine suit? Gobber was no expert on suit brands - he hated the damn things, it was bad enough he had to wear one - but it looked more expensive than anything he’d ever owned. Add to that the fancy briefcase he was carrying and you have the poshest delivery boy of the century.

The unknown figure wore it with confidence too, as if he was entirely used to this kind of stuff. He looked very unremarkable otherwise. Neat haircut. Clean shave. Your typical banker, including the borderline arrogant smirk. Gobber followed him inside and shut the office door, curious what he had to say to the mayor.

To Gobber’s surprise, the pseudo-courier didn’t say anything at all. He simply took an unmarked, sealed envelope from his briefcase and handed it to Stoick. It was large - the kind that holds A4 printed documents - and not very thick.

“Is that all?” Stoick asked. At least he was just as surprised as his PA. “All the way out here for this?”

The visitor nodded. “Just delivering,” he said. “We hope to hear from you soon.” He glanced at Gobber, nodded at Stoick, and turned around to leave again. Gobber showed him out, thoroughly puzzled by the whole affair.

Stoick rubbed his temples, trying to keep the oncoming headache at bay. First that thing with Hiccup, now this… one peek inside the envelope confirmed his suspicion. It was a letter and thin document from Echelon, the company behind the barcode system as it is used today.

It must be a sensitive piece of paper if they delivered it like this. He quickly scanned the letter.

This definitely wasn’t going to help with his headache. They were getting impatient, and had sent technical instructions to make their transition go faster. The script was only a few pages long, but Stoick really didn’t want to deal with this now. He stashed the envelope in a drawer together with Hamish’ phone. He locked the drawer, pocketed the key, and decided he’d done enough work for one day.

Hiccup lay in bed. It was late, but sleep wouldn’t come. Father sleep had been scared off like a startled deer during hunting season and he’d probably not return to his duties anytime soon. Instead he surfed the glorious wave that was 400 channels of satellite TV, hoping to find something that could distract him. Or even better, lull him to sleep after all. So far he’d only found tasteless comedy-shows, crappy sitcoms that weren’t even funny 30 years ago, and doctor Phil reruns. He sighed. He wanted to chat with Jack. That idiot would probably stay awake to text back as long as it took for Hiccup to fall asleep. Sometimes Hiccup wondered what he’d done to deserve such a kind boy.

He couldn’t wait for school tomorrow. At least he’d be able to see Jack there. Maybe sneak off to a more private place for a hug or holding hands or something.

“Tomorrow the trial of Dr. D Faustino will reach it’s conclusion.” A news anchor said. “Experts claim he is facing up to ten years in prison for alteration of multiple barcodes during his career as plastic surgeon.” Hiccup perked up. He didn’t watch the news very often - not on TV anyway, that was more entertainment than news most of the time. But you didn’t hear about someone messing around with barcodes every day.

“How do you estimate the chances for a not-guilty verdict of your client?”, asked their correspondent to a guy with a sour face and gray suit. The tag in the corner said he was the doctor’s lawyer.

“I feel like we stand a good chance tomorrow. The evidence is all circumstantial at best. Today’s verdict will have a tremendous effect on the debate and social implications connect to changing ones barcode as well - it can transform the entire issue . I think the judge and jury are well aware of the deep underlying effects the verdict can have.” The lawyer then promised to appeal, of course, should the verdict be ‘guilty’.

Hiccup zoned out the moment some so-called ‘experts’ were asked for their opinions. He was repeating the lawyer’s words. Such a delicate case could have serious implications… if people would only listen to that lawyer. He seemed to have thought things through for a change. The man was probably of the opinion codes were overrated, that the real world wasn’t as black and white as the lines on your wrist. But no-one would say that on television, of course. All anyone ever wants are bite-sized pieces of black and white “truth”, taking any easy solution over actual thought and nuance.

Maybe with this court-case going on, some debate could be found online. Hiccup was hungry for any arguments against barcodes, especially now.

He got out his laptop. It was meant for school and thus absolutely littered with parental control software. Surely he could find a way to break through it, but one slip-up and his dad would find out and take the laptop away altogether… he couldn’t risk that. So for now he’d have to live with internet filters, restricted software, and worst of all: a time limit. It still had Google. That was something.

He had to work fast and efficient here. No time to do more than a quick scan over forum threads, which were more troll infested than information rich anyway. He was on the lookout for any credible sources like news websites or literature. The most recent news was easy to find. Google was kind enough to put that on the first two pages already. Faustino was on trial, buzzfeed was covering which famous musicians had an asterisk, and Congress would soon vote on a new bill to update the Barcode Security Act. The Enhanced Barcode Security Act, as it was very creatively called, was expected to pass into law without any problems. Now that was interesting.

Of course Hiccup had known the BSA existed, but why it was being updated was a mystery to him. He’d tried to read the original act with all its impossible legal jargon. As far as he could tell, it was just your basic privacy legislation, but then for barcodes instead of emails and phonecalls. This bill had been around for years now.

What politician had been brave - or perhaps foolish - enough to start a debate about it and get it appended? It wasn’t even clear to Hiccup what had to be ‘enhanced’ about it anyway, nor did any of the news-sources specify what exactly was going to change in it.

Sadly, as he dug deeper, he found more steaming troll-dung and tinfoil hats. Topics like these were an absolute favourite for the conspiracy nutjobs and the internet was full with ‘alternative facts’. It was pretty difficult to sift through the heaps of information and distinguish what was real and what wasn’t.

He longed for just a shred of reliable evidence to slap in his dad’s face. To back up what he’d known for years already: that a barcode does not define you, and that the match-making system was the biggest load of crap in the history of pseudoscience. So he kept searching. He still had fifteen minutes computer-time left before he needed to enter a password. No pressure.

Toothless was draped over his legs for moral support. The cat hadn’t left his side after his breakdown, which he was thankful for. Now that Hiccup was doing all right again, Toothless was relaxed as well, purring contently.

More fora. Reddit threads. 4-chan. Sometimes parts sounded reasonable, maybe even borderline scientific, but Hiccup was pretty sure it was better to disregard anything that was mentioned in one breath with ‘lizard people’ and ‘virtual Satanist invasions’. When his time was up and the laptop started to shut down on its own, he hadn’t learned much more.

He was fairly certain government committee reports at least existed, as well as scientific literature. Google scholar praise be unto thee. Sadly, any real article was behind a paywall, without as much as an abstract or conclusion available to Hiccup. And there was no trace of the government reports online at all. He hadn’t managed to find anything about the public debate at the time the whole system was introduced either. Even when searching for that specific period in time, all he got were marketing campaigns by Echelon Corp., the telecom giant.

Frustrated, Hiccup put the laptop aside. Toothless had dozed off and protested vocally against the sudden movement.

“Sorry, bud. You can’t help it either.”

The information was out there, Hiccup just couldn’t get to it.

Unless… His dad was going to run for governor election. Maybe Hiccup could get what he needed through his dad! Step one would be to break into Stoick’s home office and check his papers. Perhaps he could even get in his laptop. Who knows what kind of things that could give him access to! He’d just wait till tomorrow, when his dad wasn’t home, and have a quick look.

Wild trails of thought continued for a little bit longer, but his brain soon gave up. He was worn out just enough to sleep a bit.

The next day was better. He had one period off in the afternoon, and Jack had skipped a bit of training so they could spend it together. In fact, it seemed as if Jack had made it his mission to smother Hiccup in hugs. He touched the brunet whenever he could, evidently determined to show how much he loved Hiccup, and totally ignoring the surprised people that saw them.

At lunch, they sought some privacy, sitting on the ground in a remote hallway. Far away from the busy buzz of the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe your dad is doing this. This is pretty abusive if you ask me.”

“What can I do?” Hiccup replied. “He’s my dad and well respected at that. He can do as he pleases.”

“Still shitty.”

“Well… yeah. You don’t need to tell me, I can’t even go online at night.” Hiccup sighed.

“I know. Sorry. I love you.” Jack said. He rested his head on Hiccup’s shoulder.

“I love you too.” Hiccup played with his leather bracelet. “We’ll get around this.”

The constant affection during the day, made the isolation that was to come in the evening seem a bit more bearable. As expected, Gobber was there to pick him up right after school. Hiccup immediately spotted him as he walked out the door, waiting in the car, not far from the main entrance. Hiccup squeezed Jack’s hand and together they walked down the few steps to street level. People were all around them, and normally Hiccup wouldn’t do a thing with that many onlookers. He wanted to make a point though. He swallowed and kissed Jack right there. Not an innocent peck on the lips either.

“Wow,” Jack breathed. “I thought you wanted privacy for that.”

“Making an exception this once.” Hiccup smiled nervously. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yea,” his boyfriend promised. “See you tomorrow.”

Hiccup squeezed his hand one last time. The looks they were getting from their peers made him incredibly self conscious, so he quickly got into the car. When he looked at Gobber, he could swear the man was trying hard to hide his grin. Not quite the response Hiccup had expected, but he didn’t ask about it. He didn’t grumble to Gobber about being picked up either.

When they got home, Hiccup went up to his room as usual. Instead of starting on his homework, he pretended to watch TV, keeping a watchful eye on Gobber’s car outside. The moment he left for some grocery shopping, Hiccup went to his father’s study. The door wasn’t even locked.

Now he had about an hour to snoop around… and he had no idea where to start. He looked around, wondering when he’d last been in here. It felt like ages ago. There was an old, dark wooden desk with a sizable ergonomic chair behind it. Opposite were two smaller chairs. The floor was simple but clean carpet and the walls were mostly lined with bookshelves with rows of ledgers and books, some of which were leather bound. Unlike those show-studies of billionaires, however, Hiccup was pretty sure Stoick had actually read every page that was on his shelves.

He walked past the rows of ledgers and books and read their titles. The fancy bound books seemed to be an encyclopedia. Part 15 was missing and it stopped after 31 with room to spare on the shelf. There was a framed picture of Stoick and Valka, Hiccup´s mother, together. Hiccup had a picture just like that in his room, but then with only Valka on it.

He sighed, getting a bit frustrated.

What did I even expect? A folder with ‘my secret stuff’ written on it?

He wasn’t even sure if his dad had excess to the documents he was looking for. Also because the term ‘documents’ was rather broad and vague and he honestly had no idea what he specifically needed. Maybe this wasn’t as smart as he’d initially thought.

Of course he tried the drawers. They were all locked. In the top drawer was a keyhole, and the key was not in it.

Great.

It took him nearly half an hour to find the key. It lay behind the framed picture. The whole concept was so bad-spy-movie-like that Hiccup couldn’t help but feel very disappointed in his father’s attempt at secrecy. This man was not made for keeping things hidden, obviously.

He had to hurry now; he was running out of time, and he didn’t want to make this a daily thing until he found something. That was way to risky.

Inside the drawer was his phone and a letter from the cable company. Underneath that some more papers. A plain white envelope caught his attention. On it was just one name, in Stoick’s handwriting. ‘Valherama’, it read. Hiccup opened it, feeling like a voyeur and an archaeologist finding a new dinosaur at the same time. The envelope contained a hand written letter from Stoick to his wife. It was dated may, three years ago. One month after the accident, Hiccup realized with a start.

His hand trembling slightly, he scanned the letter. It was overflowing with sorrow and regret, but also love. So much love for Valka. Stoick really loved her with all his heart. Hiccup’s vision got blurry, and he rubbed away at his upcoming tears. Stoick missed her just as much as he did. But there was something else too. Not just general regret about the accident.

“I am sorry. I am so, so sorry, my dearest, for I have done a terrible thing. Even now, in this letter, after you have long gone to heaven, I am weak. I cannot get myself to confess to you, and all I can say is how sorry I am. I hope one day Hiccup can forgive me.”

It didn’t actually say what Stoick had done, but it had to be bad for him to feel this guilty over it. A bit further, it said Stoick ‘kept the original papers to remind himself of his folly’. So whatever it was, there were still documents in existence to prove it.

Just not in this drawer.

He’d seen pretty much all there was to see. The drawers contained nothing else out of the ordinary. One might consider random places in between the ‘taxes 2014’ folder a good hiding place for secret documents, but Hiccup doubted his father was that cunning, considering where he’d hidden the key.

But every office should have a safe, right? He hadn’t seen one yet. He checked behind the painting on the wall, just in case, but there was nothing. At least Stoick wasn’t that D-rank-movie cliché.

Hiccup poked his head onto the hallway. The coast was clear. He slipped out, closing the door behind him, and went straight for the master bedroom. Another common safe-hiding spot: the floor of the closet. It was a standard looking thing with a dial lock. The combination was his parent’s wedding date. He had to look that one up, but it was his first guess, and it was correct. He hoped the security measures at his father’s office were better than the ones he implemented at home, or no state secret would be safe.

There were your standard safe-things. A wad of money, a little felt box… and a few yellow envelopes. The kind that’s tied shut with a little piece of string on the back. There were no markings on the front. Hiccup opened one and found… his birth certificate? Or at least a copy? And a letter printed on Burgess Academic Hospital paper. There was also another, heavier envelope. Before he could take a look, he heard the front door slam shut. He damn near shat himself. As quick as he could, he took both envelopes, closed the safe and returned everything to its normal state.

Inwardly cursing continuously, he fled to his room.

Safe.

When he’d calmed down a bit, he dared take a peek into the booklet before hiding it. The table of content showed it was rather extensive. Privacy risks, public opinion, insurance influences, corporate access, etc.

The last subsection was unknown to Hiccup: ‘Ghost implementation’. When he flipped to it, it was just half a page. They cited some other researches Hiccup was sure he would never find. So much for that. But this booklet was a promising start! Finally something that might show how unreliable this stupid system was! Hope bloomed in his chest, and he allowed himself a little smile. Maybe he could-

Someone knocked on his door. He nearly dropped everything and scrambled to hide it under his covers, throwing an angrily meowing Toothless off his bed in the process.

“Yes?”

Gobber came in. “Picked up a magazine for you when I was out.” He held offered a gaming magazine. It was something Hiccup would probably never read under normal circumstances - physical gaming magazines were rare these days. But considering Hiccup’s limited internet access, it was a welcome gesture. He was surprised too. Was Gobber on his side in this?

“Thanks,” Hiccup tried to smile sincerely. “I could use that.”

“No problem.” Gobber nodded, hesitating. “And ehm… don’t worry lad. He’ll come around.” He left again before there could be an awkward silence, leaving Hiccup with new admiration for the man. He didn’t know Gobber cared that much. But for now, Hiccup had other concerns. He had to hide his ‘loot’ soon, and hide it well, or he’d be caught without having any extra copies.

He granted himself another quick look at the hospital letter before he’d stash it away. It was brief and honestly quite vague, stating that ‘the procedure had been succesful and payment should ensue’. No details, no price. The signature was illegible. Dr. F- something. Honestly it raised more questions than it answered. What procedure? On who? Was it related to ‘the thing’ Stoick regretted so much?

He looked at his birth certificate again. Odd to see his own, full name standing there. Below there was a string of letters and numbers on it - the code as a scanner would read it from Hiccup’s skin.

His breath hitched.

Impossible!

The code on the certificate.

The code on his wrist.

They didn’t match.

He ripped off his bracelet and stared at the black lines imprinted on his pale skin. He knew what they represented. It was something else entirely. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

Suddenly the letter made sense. Dr. F- something. Faustino, the one who was now on trial. Stoick’s regret. It all clicked together.

Stoick had ordered Hiccup’s barcode to be altered.

#hijack #frostcup #j writes #hard coded

27 notes · View notes