A 2200 word Hijack fic (completed) in which Hiccup creates an automaton, Jack, to be his friend, but things don't work out as planned. (Thank you to kit-replica and fangirltothefullest for letting me write a story based on their Hijack Automaton AU)

The night was particularly cold, even by Berk's standards, but, regardless, Hiccup stayed up in his room, far from the warmth of the fire. Not long ago, Hiccup had a dream. It was a strangely clear dream. For a moment, he'd thought he was awake. But then, he realized it must be a dream because, in this dream, Hiccup had a friend.

The friend was a young boy made of a million pieces of metal, all perfectly attached and interconnected. His plain clothing, brown pants, a white shirt, and a brown cloak covered most of him. But his feet were bare, showing the complex and intricate composition of his mechanical toes. The metal boy had a plain face with two metal ears, a nose, a mouth, and two empty eye sockets.

He did not smile at Hiccup, or say a single word, but for the first time in a long time, Hiccup felt loved. In his dream, Hiccup and the mechanical boy played together on the snow-covered cliffs of Berk. They threw snowballs and made snowmen, and they even skated on the frozen ocean. And though the mechanical boy's face never changed, nor did he give any sign that he was having fun, Hiccup knew. Hiccup knew that this boy was his friend, his one and only friend.

But, as with every dream, it did not last forever. The sun rose, and so did Hiccup. He spent the day thinking about his dream, while he watched the other children laugh and play. He wished with all his heart and soul for that dream to come true. Hiccup wanted just one friend. With his mother gone and his father being, well, his father, a friend was all Hiccup wanted. It was all he needed.

Soon, Hiccup began to realize that he could make his dream come true. He had the tools and the skills to build the mechanical boy. He spent weeks drawing up the design and gathering materials. But, it wasn't long before Hiccup realized that he could not make his mechanical friend as big and tall as he had been in Hiccup's dream. He just didn't have enough metal. He could craft a smaller version, though, of about one and a half feet in height. And Hiccup did.

He spent every waking minute working on his friend. For weeks, Hiccup ran back and forth between his home and Gobber's shop. He used the blacksmith's workshop to mold the pieces he needed, and then ran up to his room to put them together, careful not to let anyone, especially his father, see what he was up to.

And it was on that particularly cold night on Berk that Hiccup finished his beautiful creation. The mechanical boy was, in nearly every way, exactly the same as the boy from Hiccup's dream. Hiccup had even sewn clothes for the boy. The only differences were, of course, the boy's size and, also, his eyes. In Hiccup's dreams, the boy's eye sockets had been empty and lifeless, but Hiccup gave his new friend a pair of blue eyes, fashioned out of stones he found by the shore.

Once all the finishing touches had been made, Hiccup excitedly sat the mechanical boy down on the floor. Hiccup stared at his creation for a moment. He wondered what he should call his friend. A few names crossed his mind, but they were Viking names, and Hiccup's friend wouldn't be a Viking.

Jack, said a whisper in the back of Hiccup's mind. Jack? What a strange name. But, in a way, it felt right. His new friend's name was Jack.

Hiccup took the key he'd made and stuck it into the slot in the boy's back. He turned the key and listened to the sound of gears turning and pieces clicking into place. But, nothing happened. The boy did not come to life as Hiccup had intended, as he'd hoped and prayed. The gears slowly came to a halt, and the room filled with silence.

Hiccup tried to hold back his tears. He'd been certain that his dream was meant to come true. It had all felt so real. He hadn't, for a single moment, stopped to think of the possibility of failure. But failure had presented itself to the incredibly ill prepared child.

In a fit of rage, Hiccup threw his creation out of his bedroom window into the cold night. He took all of his blueprints, as well as all the left over scraps of metal and fabric, and began to destroy them. With tears streaming down his face, he tried to erase his work from existence.

But something happened that night, something magical. What Hiccup did not know was that his dream to create the mechanical boy was not his alone. It was planted there by a curious creature, the Sandman, bringer of dreams, on the request of the Man in the Moon, a guardian of the Earth. The Man in the Moon knew that Hiccup, more than anything, needed a protector of his very own. He knew that, someday, Hiccup would face terrible danger.

And so the Man in the Moon planted a seed in the young Viking's head. And the young Viking complied, creating his own personal guardian. To complete the boy, the Man in the Moon sent down a beam of moonlight that filled the mechanical boy with life, with joy, with love. Jack, Hiccup's mechanized guardian, would give the young Viking as much love and care as Hiccup had put into his creation.

When Jack first opened his eyes, snow began to fall from the sky. He liked the snow, though he didn't know exactly why. Something in the back of his mind, a memory that wasn't really a memory at all, told Jack that he loved to play in the snow. Though Jack didn't know it, the memory was Hiccup's dream, the same dream that had inspired his creation. Through all his hard work, Hiccup had poured that dream into Jack, and so Jack could remember it, though only faintly.

He stood for the first time. Jack examined himself, his arms, his legs, the many gears and springs that made up his body. He was alive. He tried to smile, but his face would not move. He tried to speak, but he found that he could not. For a moment, Jack was afraid. He worried that he was broken. But his fear subsided when he remembered his mission. He was not alive to speak or smile. He was alive to protect Hiccup.

Jack leapt up the side of the wooden house and stared in through Hiccup's window. He wanted to meet Hiccup, the child he was meant to watch over, the child who had given him form. But when Jack saw Hiccup, he was filled with new emotions, emotions he was never meant to feel.

He watched as Hiccup destroyed the last of his work, the last of the pages detailing how all of Jack's pieces should fit together. It took Jack a moment to realize what Hiccup was doing, but a shred of paper covered in a drawing of Jack's arm floated past the window. Jack was heartbroken. He'd never met Hiccup, but he loved the boy. That love was the only feeling he knew or understood. It was all he had. But there was Hiccup, angry and hurt, destroying the building blocks of his most wonderful creation.

Jack became very sad. He wanted to jump into the room and convince Hiccup to stop, to show him that he'd been right all along. But Jack also felt hurt. After all, Hiccup seemed to have given up on him. What if the little Viking wanted nothing to do with Jack anymore?

Jack reached out, but pulled back at the last moment. A very large man entered the room and began speaking to Hiccup. Jack marveled at the man's stature, but he also felt a pang of hopelessness. Jack was only eighteen inches tall. How could Hiccup ever need his protection, when he had the protection of someone that big and strong? Jack hopped down from the window onto the snow-covered ground below. Carrying nothing but his own sadness, Jack ran away from Berk, away from his mission and his purpose.

The next day, Hiccup realized that he'd made a mistake in abandoning his friend. But, by that time, Jack was long gone. Hiccup dug through the snow, desperate to find his creation. He thought to ask around, to see if anyone had taken his friend. However, Hiccup decided not to. He didn't want the other children to find out about his work and ridicule him for it. All Hiccup had left of Jack was the mechanical key he'd used to wind up his friend.

Hiccup never truly forgot about Jack. But he'd spent so much time in Gobber's shop lately that the blacksmith made Hiccup his apprentice, a job that filled much of Hiccup's time and thoughts. His days became an endless routine of creating weapons, helmets, and shields. And whenever dragons attacked Berk, Hiccup was there to sharpen swords and provide help from within the confines of the blacksmith's workshop. But Hiccup never stopped daydreaming about his friend.

All the while, Jack lived in a home he'd made for himself, in a cave on the side of a lonely, snowy mountain, not far from Berk. He spent every moment of those years alone, with not even sweet dreams to save him from his solitude. After all, mechanical boys do not sleep.

Jack thought of Hiccup often during that time. He thought about his purpose, to protect the boy. He loved the little Viking and wanted to protect him. But he was certain that Hiccup did not want anything to do with him. He was certain that Hiccup did not need him. So, Jack remained in his lonely home.

But Jack did not stay in his cave forever. Whenever dragons attacked Berk, Jack could hear the faint noise of a distant battle. Though he normally ignored the quiet shouting from the village, on one particular night, the shouting and the raging fires were louder than normal. Jack's curiosity got the best of him.

He raced toward Berk. The springs in his legs carried him quickly down the mountain. When he reached Berk, he saw that all was not well. He'd never seen the destruction caused by the dragons. He'd only ever heard the sounds of these attacks, and they never seemed, in his mind, to be as bad as what he saw now.

His thoughts turned to Hiccup, and he began to search for the boy. Jack darted between the legs of dragons, past screaming Vikings and burning buildings until he found the boy. Though he was older, Jack recognized Hiccup instantly. Hiccup ran out of the blacksmith's shop, right past Jack, pushing a strange contraption in front of him. Jack followed him.

Hiccup ran until he stood at the edge of a cliff. With a few swift movements, Hiccup's strange contraption was ready. He stared out at the sky past the edge of the cliff, his eyes narrow and focused.

Jack watched Hiccup closely as the boy's eyes scanned the starry sky. Then, Jack noticed something. Around Hiccup's neck, there was a key. Jack stretched his arm over his head and placed a hand on his back. The key was his, the key that fit into the little hole in Jack's back. It was then that Jack realized that Hiccup had never forgotten him, never truly cast him aside, the way he'd never forgotten Hiccup.

Jack searched the sky, trying to see what Hiccup was looking for. Then, he saw it. Jack's eyes followed the dragon as it disappeared and reappeared against the backdrop of the stars. Jack became overwhelmed with fear and worry. He knew in his heart that the dragon would come for Hiccup, and would kill the boy.

The dragon flew close and shot a purple blast, an explosion, much too close to Hiccup. Hiccup did not waste a moment. He took aim and fired. But Jack could see that Hiccup had missed, a mistake that would surely cost him his life.

Jack sprang into action. He jumped into the air and grabbed hold of the swinging rope with stones attached that was meant to down the dragon. But, in correcting the projectile's course, Jack became snagged on the rope. He did not have time to free himself before the ropes wrapped themselves around the dragon's body.

Together, Jack and the dragon plummeted. The end was near for Jack. He would never return to his snowy mountain home. But even worse, he would never get to meet Hiccup. He would never get to play on the snow-covered cliffs of Berk, make snowmen, or throw snowballs with Hiccup. He would never get to skate on the frozen sea. He would never get to find a way to make amends for abandoning the boy who never truly abandoned him. He hoped that Hiccup would be safe without him there. He hoped that helping to vanquish this one foe would be enough.

With that thought in mind, both Jack and the dragon hit the ground, and Jack shattered into a million pieces of metal.