[ ah. it's a simple enough problem, sure, but it's one that Jack can't fix and that frustrates him, makes him feel like he's already failed even though it isn't his fault he's not the Sandman. Hiccup asked a question, though, and he called Jack here just for company; he's not expecting anything to be magically solved. (it's supposed to make Jack feel less guilty and useless, when he tells himself that. it doesn't.) it's the first time he's really wished that something from home was here for a reason other than homesickness — this would be so easy to fix if he could just get a handful of dream sand, or bargain with Pitch to knock it off.

but it's not like that here, he can't make things that easy. there was a question, and if nothing else, an answer is easy enough to give. he tilts his head to the side, considering. ]

Yeah. I don't sleep that often, but when I do? Sure, I get nightmares. [ strange, hazy things that rend through him, leave him sobbing, shaking, feeling hollow and frightened and alone for hours after they pass. he doesn't explain in that much detail, but his frown is troubled when he adds: ] I never remember anything about them, though, I just... wake up scared, or I freak out in my sleep and fall out of a tree.

[ he doesn't ask the obvious rejoinder, the question of what Hiccup has nightmares about, what this one was. considering how much avoidance Jack gets away with, it doesn't seem fair to wring answers from Hiccup when it's not clear if he wants to offer them or not. especially not now, and especially not when he called Jack here thinking that he would be of some good in this. ]