Chapter 2: He Made It Weird


Yosemite National Park, California

"Lift, Jim! Lift with your butt!" said Toby.

"I'm lifting!"

"With your butt!"

"That's implied!"

In the years the trolls had lived under Arcadia Oaks, most mountain tunnels through the Sierras had fallen into a disarray impossible to pass. With the southwest and its open desert scrub out of the question, the group made its way north toward the cloudy Pacific Northwest forests. They intended to skirt barren Nevada and reach decently forested Midwestern states, like Missouri.

They'd taken advantage of a rest stop in Yosemite. The park's bear-proof dumpsters weren't troll-proof due, in some cases due to their massive strength, in other, smarter cases, due to their opposable thumbs. So they had plentiful garbage to eat. The occasional deer and squirrel rounded their diets out. The trolls, denied cats, had gone after small rodents with relish.

Since their route was restricted to wilderness, they'd traveled a long time without phone reception before reaching Yosemite, so Jim and Toby had a lot to catch up on (after Jim caught up on video chatting with his mother).

"A lot to catch up on" meant, for Toby, addressing a pressing question that required immediate experimentation: Could Jim's tail carry another weapon? Could he triple wield?

Since the armor closed over Jim's tail and pressed it securely against his back, it couldn't lift Daylight or his glaives. But Jim had found a few sticks of similar weight to experiment with. If the third limb could be useful, he'd ask Merlin to alter the armor to allow his tail to stick out.

This was turning out to be a pretty big "if."

"I don't know, Tobes," Jim said, holding the phone over his shoulder so Toby could see his tail wrapped firmly around the stick, but trembling from backbone to tip as he struggled to lift it. "I can grab on okay, but it's hard to control. I don't think it's strong enough to lift a real weapon."

"It's a brand new body part that you've never exercised before, of course it's not strong," Toby pointed out, clearly too enthusiastic about the idea of triple-wielding to let this 'hold a knife in your tail' thing go. "At a time like this, Jim, you have to ask yourself - and I can't believe I'm saying this -" Toby sighed a long, long sigh at the deep irony of what he was about to ask his best friend. "What would Coach Lawrence say? "

"I'm pretty sure Coach Lawrence would yell like he does at you about climbing ropes, and I'd follow your inspirational example by ignoring him."

"Hang on I can make this more motivational." Toby disappeared from the screen for a moment. In a second he was back, upper lip bedecked with the largest, fakest moustache Jim had ever seen. He cleared his throat and yelled, "LAKE! I'VE SEEN STRONGER TAILS ON TOBY'S NANA'S CATS! GIVE ME TWO MORE REPS!"

"I'm not doing butt reps."

"That's quitter talk from someone who clearly doesn't want to triple-wield."

"I'm not doing butt reps."

"Fine." Toby crossed his arms. "Go ahead and let us tailless bipeds all down, shirk your wizard-given gift. It's your butt."

Jim rolled his eyes and tossed the stick away, rubbing his sore tail muscles. Touching it still felt strange, like a reverse phantom limb - something that shouldn't have been there even though he felt it, but still was there every time he touched it.

Still, he was getting used to it. Finally. All it had taken was time, and, when Jim was honest with himself, Claire gently petting it one night as they fell asleep in one of their lean-tos.

Claire's tent had proven too small for Jim's new height, and too shreddable for his horns, when he woke up abruptly one morning and wrecked the entire tent. They'd resorted to, and perfected, the art of the lean-to, combining Claire's duct-tape repaired bug netting with a blue tarp for waterproofing. They slept on camp mats with sleeping bags - one for Claire, two for Jim zipped together. It had been raining. His tail snaked through a gap in the sleeping bags, and Claire pulled it over her stomach, idly petting the tuft of fur at the end the way she gently held his hand or stroked his arms. The rain and her gentle touch had lulled Jim to the deepest, most relaxing sleep he'd had in months.

After that the tail had felt more... his somehow. But getting used to something wasn't the same as it being useful. A lot of Jim's new changes weren't useful, they just... were. He was getting used to that, too, that not everything about his new existence had a purpose.

"Keeping the tail out of the armor might be a bad idea anyway. Nomura grabbed it during some armorless training once and threw me through a tree. And another limb is another thing for someone to chop off in a fight. I like having all my limbs intact - including the weird new one."

"I'm just saying, if I had a third prehensile appendage I'd be using it for everything. I'd be unnecessarily using it at all times."

"Hey, I never said I wouldn't be abusing my new tail-related power. It's handy, even if it has a mind of its own."

"Wait, a mind of its -?" Toby interrupted.

"All I'm saying -" said Jim, powering past having to admit that sometimes his tail...wrapped itself around his girlfriend's waist like he had no say in the matter on account of she smelled so good. "- is maybe it's not a good idea to flail a sword around in my tail if all I'm doing is flailing."

To prove he wasn't above using it for pretty much everything else, Jim picked up the thermos of coffee he'd left on a stump nearby up with his tail and drew the thermos up to his hand. (It turned out undoctored dark-as-night black tar coffee was still somewhat tasty, so he drank it whenever he could.)

"As new changes go, at least the tail's fun. Most of the rest..."

He trailed off, not sure how to explain.

"The rest of what?" Toby downshifted as Jim trailed off. "Keep talking, buddy."

Jim smiled a little. God, he'd missed this. Claire was easy to talk to, but he felt wrong dumping all his problems on her. She worked so hard at creating their route, using her freedom to interact with humans in the sun to help them. And Blinky had to keep everyone organized and happy. It felt wrong to lay his troubles on everyone else when they were working so hard, especially since, for once, he...kind of wasn't.

Nothing had attacked them so far. Nothing pursued them. All he had to do was keep up his training and...figure his own stuff out.

"The rest of everything. Tobes, I know everyone thinks I'm still the same as I was on the inside, but my brain isn't the same. Everything just...feels more intense," Jim explained, relieved at having a place to unload. "If I'm sad, I'm hysterical; if I'm happy, I'm so happy I'm going to explode; if I'm embarrassed I want to hide in a hole forever -"

"That last one sounds the same as before."

"No, Tobes. It's worse! It's actually worse! Before, when I looked like a total moron, I'd want to stay in a hole for a day or two, a week at most. Now, I want to live in the hole, even for little things. I want to pick out curtains and put down a down payment for a mortgage. It's like I feel the same things as before, but now they take over my whole brain, like I'm...I'm feeling enough for two people. It's fine when I'm happy but when I'm anything else..."

Toby nodded through Jim's explanation. "When you talked to Merlin about it, did he do anything other than shrug and go -" he shrugged, and made an "I'unno" sound.

Guessing that Jim had talked to Merlin already - and that Merlin had been mostly unhelpful - was an easy assumption to make.

"Nope," Jim said with a rumbling snort of frustration. "Merlin's all shrugging and uselessness. I've had to figure it out on my own."

"Has it gotten any better since you first changed? You got the amulet to power down -"

"Well, there's all these weird new instincts, too, stuff that isn't troll or human. And I don't think it's something that will get better, it just...is what it is." Jim went quiet and drew a deep breath through his nose. "I used to know who I was. Back before I changed. Maybe I doubted myself sometimes, maybe I didn't always like every little part of myself - the parts that lied to my mom or let people down - but I liked a lot of me. At least I could see my good and bad for what it - what I was. Now everything's changed so much I don't know who I am anymore."

"Everyone changes, Jim. Everyone has to figure out who they are after they change. Claire and I changed a lot this last year too. Not as much as you, but I mean -" Toby grasped for examples. "Look at Steve."

Of all the people to have changed, and change extremely, only Jim had outstripped Steve.

"Everybody changed." Toby pointed out. "You, Strickler, Nomura - you're just the champion overachiever who changed the hardest. Whatever challenges that comes with, everybody who knows you knows you can handle them. Maybe not right away, but you can."

"I...I never thought about it that way."

Toby was right. Everyone had changed, even if Jim had changed the most. And that meant adjusting and figuring himself out was just...a normal thing to do. He'd have to work harder than most to do it, but having to work harder than everyone else just came with the amulet.

His transformation had been unnatural but if changing was a normal thing, then adjusting was normal, too. Jim smiled at his best friend through his phone.

"Man, I missed you, Tobes. I'd be even more of a mess without Claire and Blinky - even Nomura and Not-Enrique try, but I miss having you here. I hate that we keep going places where phone reception is so shoddy."

"I know, I know, I'm your anchor," Toby said, face contorting in a picture of sadness. "Your rock. I'll always be tethering you somewhere less terrible than -" He shuddered, deep and soul-wracking. "- New Jersey." He paused, joking tone fading. "Really, I miss you, too, Jimbo."

"I have to work being a champion of change into being a champion at being comfortable in my own skin. My new skin." Jim gestured to his hoodie-clad, unnecessarily tall form. "I don't know how you do it, but you're pretty much a natural at being comfortable in your skin."

"Uhhh," Toby dragged the syllable out, as if waiting for Jim to make a connection. "I don't know about natural at that."

"No, really," Jim said, trying for encouragement. "You're always so confident. I didn't notice how comfortable that makes everyone else until I wasn't around you anymore, but people can definitely feel it -"

"Jim, I'm a fat kid," Toby pointed out, raising his eyebrows, tone and expression conveying as much 'duh' as possible. "People never let me forget it."

"Oh," Jim said, the ball dropping in the back of his mind.

"Yeah, oh," Toby echoed. "Being confident isn't natural for me, it's the result of years of practice. Remember when I moved to town, how excited I was? I was excited to live in a town where my nickname wasn't already Tubby. "

"Oh yeah," said Jim, wincing. "Sometimes I forget are stupid about that. I don't get why they even care."

In Jim's eyes, Toby's shape hadn't been noticeable, because he was best friend-shaped.

"People care a lot," Toby assured him. " But I don't care what people think, because I've got friends who make not-caring easy." He smiled. "You've got friends who don't care, so I hope that helps you not care as much."

"Yeah," Jim said softly. "Yeah, it does."

He breathed in and out again, finally smiling a little.

Times like this, he felt there was another thing besides the heartstone that was worth going to New Jersey for: better cell phone reception. That brought the total number of reasons New Jersey wasn't a worthless state that needed to be sawed off the continent Bugs Bunny style to an impressive grand total of two.


An hour before sunset, Claire needed to be sleeping, but she couldn't.

Her new sleep schedule was still taking some getting used to. It was easy for her to fall asleep at 4 PM after a long day of route-finding in the sun, but she still kept waking up around nightfall feeling weirdly like she'd missed the day. Rather than toss and turn in her lean-to and wait for sleep that wasn't coming, she'd taken herself for a short walk to historic Camp 4, where she filled her water bottles and listened to the rock climbers, clustered around their campfires and laughing, smelling strongly herbal. Camp 4 was not backwoodsy enough for the trolls to come near, but Claire was happy to take advantage of the source of freshwater (and a toilet that flushed) was too much to pass up.

She put her filled water bottles into her backpack and shouldered the supply, picking up her tree-branch walking stick to return to the trolls. She walked into the dark woods without attracting any attention and found her way back to the moss-covered crack in the stones that led to a small troll tunnel.

She was lowering her backpack into the crack when something changed. The night didn't smell right. She wouldn't have noticed the acrid smell in a polluted city, but up in the fresh, cool mountain air it caught her attention.

She stared into the darkening woods and saw nothing. The smell had blown away on a small breeze. She could ignore it -

Who was she kidding? The turn her life had taken, she couldn't ignore anything suspicious.

She also couldn't go looking for something in the deep, dark forest alone, not when her only weapon was a stick with no power besides being heavy when she hit things with it.

Claire slipped into the tunnel and flicked on her headlamp, jogging back to the trolls.


With Blinky so busy keeping peace, Nomura had taken charge of Jim's daily training. It felt...right. No one could take Draal's place, but someone needed to take his role, and Nomura was the natural choice. Now that she'd softened a little, Jim saw more things she and Draal'd had in common, and it made more and more sense that they'd seen some of those things in each other, once upon a time.

Jim was sure they both saw the empty space where Draal was supposed to be, as if they'd decided without speaking that the best thing they could do to honor him was build on everything Draal had drilled into Jim.

Today they were dancing through the forest, playing a brutal game of practice tag in the tree branches as much as on the ground. The sun had set behind the mountains, and Jim only risked being burned if he went too high in the trees. He followed her from branch to branch, snatching at her ponytail in an attempt to tug her out of the canopy. "Aha!" he crowed, bursting through the leaves triumphantly, hand outstretched to grab her hoofed foot. "Gotchuuuh? Wait, what?"

She wasn't there.

"Oh, come on, where could she -"

A strong hand grabbed his foot and yanked him down through the leaves. Nomura kicked him in the back and he broke through multiple branches as he fell, landing amid those branches face-first on the ground.

Nomura also landed - on his back, hooves-first. The sound of the wind being knocked out of him could've been written as a keyboard smash. Maybe something like: WHOORMPH!

Jim's vision went black, a state of pain he'd found himself in many, many times since he'd become the Trollhunter.

Hello darkness my old friend...

"You're getting cocky, little Gynt." Nomura flipped off his back and stood over him with a look of deep satisfaction over a lesson communicated with painful perfection.

"Hwarghoomphle," Jim said back because that was the only noise he could make.

"Which one of His Verboseness' rules would this little exercise be a reminder of again?"

"Rule one," Jim groaned, spitting out pine needles and rolling over so he could breathe better. "Definitely rule one."

Oh god, he was going to puke.

"You can't let your new strength and speed go to your head." Nomura placed a hand on her hip. "You may have defeated Gunmar, but there will always be someone faster or stronger or smarter than you. Or able to walk free in sunlight. I had you dancing around for an hour just by dipping above the canopy. It's easy to tire you out and slow you down."

So it hadn't been an honest game of keep away. Nomura had fought smarter, wearing him down until she was, again, faster than him, too.

"You fight like you're starting at the top, but you still need to fight like you're starting at a disadvantage. Because someday soon, you will be again."

"Unghuhg," Jim said in response, in a vague affirmative. To make sure she knew he'd learned his lesson, he gave her a wobbly thumbs up with one hand.

Nomura reached down to help him up, her smile smug. Jim took her hand gratefully, climbing to his feet and bowing over with his hands on his knees, still wheezing.

"It's - it's easy to forget," he gasped out. "It feels...good to be this much stronger and faster." He finally drew in a deep breath and the nausea abated slightly. "You - uh, everyone I fought was so big and strong and fast compared to me, and I never got to feel even close to in control. So now having this edge, it's..."

"It's a rush," Nomura finished. "But being in control of yourself isn't the same as being in control of a fight. There's no such thing as control in a fight. There's always a chance something will change and that you'll have to adapt. But if you understand that? That's your edge."

Jim nodded. "So...remembering I might be at a disadvantage is the way I can avoid being at a disadvantage, even when it seems like I'm not at a disadvantage but actually am at a disadvantage because I didn't...think I was disadvantaged?"

"Now you're getting it."

Jim actually was getting it. Blinky right about always being afraid, always understanding that a fight could turn uglier in a hurry, and Nomura was teaching him the same lesson.

He still could bleed. He still could hurt. He still could die.

And he almost had, thanks to Morgana, even with the strength to defeat Gunmar.

Claire burst through the underbrush.

"Jim! Nomura! I think something's wrong," she said.

"What is it?" Jim asked.

"I know this probably sounds like nothing but back near the human camp, I smelled something weird and chemical and it felt like I was being watched. It seemed...off."

"It wasn't like propane or car exhaust?" asked Jim.

"No, like ammonia or something. It burned the inside of my nose."

Jim looked at Nomura and frowned. "That's strange."

"No," Nomura interrupted, unsheathing her scythes. "It's strange that I smell it, too. Right now."

"Claire!" Jim shouted, as the underbrush behind her rustled. The leaves caught and burned with a chemical-blue fire -

A long, catlike thing leaped at Claire, burning blue and smelling noxious. Claire sidestepped with a shriek and Jim's tossed glaive struck it a glancing blow, redirecting the thing's attention to him.

The creature spewed blue flames from its mouth as it leaped at him. Jim summoned Daylight, raised it to take a swing… and then watched Claire hit the creature with her walking stick so hard that if the body hadn't hit a tree, it would've been a solid home run. It crumpled to the ground, lifeless, and the aura of fire around it sizzled out. The tree and Claire's stick both smoked lightly.

"Nice," said Jim.

"Huh. Your form's not terrible," Nomura said, sauntering over to stand beside Jim. She looked at Claire, still heaving breaths in and out from her run and her panicked stick attack. She nodded. "Even without magic, you're not without potential. For a soft human child, at least."

"Uh, thanks?" said Claire, choosing to ignore the 'soft human child' part in favor of the compliment. She wiped the singed portion of her stick on the ground and looked at the body. "What is that thing?"

The glow had faded from the dead...whatever. It was at least three feet long, like a stretched out sphinx cat, mostly bald except for the faint fuzz of stiff fluorescent hairs. The whip-long tail had 8 bony nubs like a string of beads and Claire was glad it hadn't managed to use it on her before she got her blow in.

With a hiss, the thing's ribs sagged suddenly. Its skin grew more transparent by the second, the body rotting before their eyes.

The sound of running feet alerted them to the arrival of more trolls, Blinky in the lead.

"Master Jim, Claire, what is it? We heard Claire scream - oh my."

"Blinky, Claire smelled something weird and felt like she was being watched back at the human camp. That thing followed her over from there. What is it?"

"How unusual," said Blinky, bending down for a closer look. "Judging from the fluorescent coloring and the tail, I believe that may be a santer."

"A santer?"

"Known for their predation on human livestock, santers are capable of knocking larger animals out with but a single swing of their tails and produce a dangerous, flesh-melting chemical fire. They decompose quickly after death, much like many other creatures unknown to the human world." Blinky rubbed his chin. "It's strange to see one so far from their natural range. I believe they're most commonly seen below what humans call the 'Mason-Dixon line,' particularly in the state of North Carolina. It's also rare to see one alone; they usually travel in packs."

Claire's eyes widened. "The campers!"

"Claire, show us exactly where you first smelled that smell," said Jim.

Claire bolted down the trail, stick in hand, Jim close behind. To their surprise, another runner joined them as Claire led Jim back to the tunnel to camp. Nomura slipped into the tunnel in front of Jim, pushing him aside, catching up to Claire.

"Hey!" he shouted from behind. Nomura ignored him.

"If you're already good enough to kill something with a stick," Nomura said to Claire as they journeyed down the tunnel, "I might as well teach you to do it with finesse."

"You know how to fight with a staff too?" Claire asked.

"I know how to kill things with lots of other things. Sticking to one weapon is preference," said Nomura. "We'll start tomorrow."

"Thanks," Claire said. She realized this was an incredible offer. Nomura had important enough work training Jim without taking her on as well, and doubtless learning to fight from Nomura would be painful and challenging, but for Nomura to care that she learned to fight at all, instead of treating her as hopelessly powerless without her staff -

Well, Claire thought she'd earned that consideration but Nomura still wasn't easily impressed.

"I know there's more I can do, even without a magic weapon," said Claire with an excited grin. "I won't waste your time."

"Then get out of my way," Nomura said, shoving Claire aside. An acrid smell reached Claire's nostrils as Nomura surged ahead. She flashed Claire a rare, slightly wicked smile. "You've had enough fun for one day. Now share."

"You'll do great!" Jim added, also surging ahead of her, patting her briefly on the shoulder before the two faster fighters left Claire behind.

"I should feel less excited when a bunch of hippies' lives are in danger," Claire joked, mostly to herself. But hey, even with the Skathe-Hrün gone, this adventuring life still agreed with her.

She trailed the two through the caves with Blinky behind her.


Silence and an empty forest greeted them on the other side. They walked carefully through the dark, Jim leading the way, Daylight in hand. Nomura walked side by side with him, picking up a long straight branch to demonstrate for Claire, who brought up the rear with Blinky. Claire held her improvised staff at the ready and Blinky clearly planned on using the staff he inherited from Vendel the same way. The other trolls had stayed behind - a good idea considering their proximity to Camp 4.

"Tread carefully!" warned Blinky. "Their bright coloring and distinctive smell force santers to hunt by ambush. They're quite skilled at mounting a surprise attack, and their tails are capable of snapping a neck or a spine."

There wasn't a sound from the woods as they walked, not a snapping twig or crackling leaf. Only the distant sound of reveling campers reached them.

Light flashed at the corner of Jim's eye. The creature launched, its tail snapped, but Jim dove aside before moving was even a conscious thought, then turned and sliced the creature apart. The attack came in earnest, more santers launching from hidden branches and pouncing from behind rocks. But even in number, they were no match for the Trollhunters.

Nomura crowed triumphantly as she twisted and dodged, evading the launching creatures and their snapping tails, twirling her "staff" with expert skill. Jim responded to their speed by dispersing Daylight and slicing through their attacks with his glaives, tossing one periodically in a long arc, killing several at once. Claire continued showing the adeptness that Nomura had praised. She twirled her staff with a practiced hand, knocking the creatures out of the air.

After facing Gunmar, this was easy - fun, even.

Jim smiled proudly as he watched Claire smack one creature with such force that it sailed away in the distance.

"I don't know much about sportball, but I'm gonna pretend I do. Good job grand slamming that three point dunk into the end zone!" Jim cried out as he sliced a glaive through another.

He'd played baseball when he was younger, but not for long, and he barely remembered the rules.

Claire laughed, knocking another santer thirty feet into a tree.

"And the crowd goes wild!" cried Jim. "Claire Nunez, everyone, up for the MVP hall of fame - ow!"

Jim's crow cut off as Nomura bopped him in the back of the head with her stick.

"Rule one," she snarled.

"Rule one, indeed!" echoed Blinky, as he smacked a santer away. "Admittedly, these creatures are far from the worst threat we've faced, but that's no reason to get overconfident, Master Jim!"

"Okay, okay, rule one! I'm rule one-ing now," Jim said, focusing maybe a little more.

"You too," Nomura snapped at Claire.

"I'm rule one-ing," she said sheepishly.

They didn't have to Rule One long. Claire smacked the last creature down and no more came. They left the decaying bodies to scout, but saw nothing more.

"Blinky, do you think that's all of them?" asked Jim.

"I believe so, Master Jim. This fracas surely would have caught the attention of their compatriots, if any compatriots were to exist. I'm still puzzled over their presence here." Blinky rubbed his chin. "I suppose it's possible a mischief of santers got confused while migrating and wound up wandering a great distance outside their natural range."

"A continent's width of distance? What could make them do that?" asked Claire.

"I've read the occasional discarded scientific magazine and learned the human-caused blight known as 'global warming' has confused many migrating creatures. That could be a factor; such changes in climate would affect many magical creatures as well."

"I guess global warming makes as much sense as anything," said Jim, disappearing his glaives.

"Ugh, what is that?" a human voice carried from the distance. "I smell something."

"But perhaps we should ruminate on the environmental perils of carbon emissions elsewhere," said Blinky anxiously. "Back to the tunnel! Quickly!"

They ran, but Jim glanced backward briefly. A part of him almost ached to see another human, even though he knew there was nowhere good that could go. Claire, two steps ahead, reached for his hand, wrapped her small fingers around his and pulled him on. Her touch was a tether pulling him back from thoughts of the divide between himself and the campers.

Maybe he could never cross that divide but he still had something solid to hold onto.


They returned well past Claire's bedtime. She needed to rest during the evening and early night so she could wake early enough to travel with the trolls under cover of darkness, but still stay awake long enough to do her daywork of getting maps, shopping for supplies, and asking for information. So even though night had fallen, prime activity time for the trolls, Jim decided to settle in with her in their shelter and catch a catnap.

"I was thinking about taking a shower, but I am so done for the day," Claire complained. She held some of her hair to her nose. "Even though that chemical smell soaked into my hair."

"It's not that bad," said Jim, but he wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air. He unfastened the clothespins holding the bug netting together and swept it open for Claire, then followed her inside, careful to stoop extra low so his horns didn't get stuck in the lean-to. Again. The other trolls had built it, slightly redesigned from instructions Claire had shared from a survival book she'd downloaded to her phone. Jim liked the A-frame they had now better than their old, triangular single roof-wall.

It was a little easier for Jim to sit up in. It was also a little more private, having two walls instead of one. And it was cozy, which was important for Claire, who needed to be able to sleep during the heat of afternoon and through the sudden temperature drop that followed sunset.

It was almost a little too cozy. Before the trolls had perfected the A-frame, they'd done their night-time rituals outside the lean-to and scooted in when they were done. Now there was enough room to do everything inside the shelter...barely. Claire nearly elbowed him in the face three times while he worked on their sleeping bag and pillow situation, just in the process of taking out her hair clips.

Claire, Jim had learned, wore ten million hair clips for a reason. When freed from its clippy confines her hair sproinged and expanded to twice its normal volume. Back when they still had an unshredded tent, they'd left it one morning before Claire put the clips back in. Not only did her hair terrify a small troll child, but Blinky had nearly caused a panic screaming at Jim to close his eyes lest he be turned to stone by the Gorgon in their midst.

Now she was so self-conscious about her hair that she kept it clipped until right before bed. She tried and failed to push her fingers through the poofy, increasingly greasy curls self consciously.

"Ugh, I always feel so weird about you seeing my hair this messy," she said.

"I think it's cute," said Jim, settling back on the camp mats to smile at her messy-cute hair.

"And I haven't been able to wash my face properly in weeks -"

"It's still a pretty face. Also my face looks like...it does, and you're okay with that. "

Claire huffed out a soft laugh. "There's nothing wrong with your face. It's a cute face," she said, drawing her finger along his jawline.

Jim wrapped his arms around her waist, and returned the smile. "I kind of like it like this. You know, how you're comfortable enough around me to go au naturel."

She raised an eyebrow. "Au naturel?"

"Uh, uuuh, in the… no makeup sense," he quickly self-corrected. "Not the - not the other sense."

"Mmm hmm," she said, smirking at him.

Jim's cheeks flushed slightly. He went on, "It makes me think of…"

He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.

"Of what?"

"Well, it's all a little..." He shrugged one shoulder slightly, then the other. "Domestic."

Claire giggled.

"Domestic. Wow, so romantic."

"Well, it is!" Jim insisted. "I...never got to see that growing up. But in movies where two people are together, sometimes they'll do things like… like he'll zip her dress and she'll tie his tie for him and...wow, I'm getting into weird territory here with the dress zipping." Claire was still smiling at him, though, so he plowed on through. "I mean, that sort of relationship seemed almost...fairy tale. In a good way."

It wasn't mundane - he hadn't grown up seeing it. It was a special thing, and one he wanted.

Claire looked skeptical, though. "Me having a blotchy face and hair that looks like baby birds should live in it is your fairy tale?"

"Yes," Jim nodded, solemnly. "Yes it is. In fact, if you want to put on some cold cream -"

Claire laughed and took the idea and ran with it. "- And one of those little eye masks with the ice packs. And maybe put a little kerchief in my hair -"

"Yeah, if you want to do any of that, go crazy."

Claire kept smiling at him, and reached her hand up to thread her fingers into the scruff on the back of his neck. Jim sighed and leaned closer into her embrace.

Claire, still giggling a little at the picture they'd painted, surprised him with a kiss. They hadn't kissed much since hitting the road. Their lean-tos hadn't offered enough privacy. But now that they had some, now that their travel had taken on a routine, now they had space to have a Moment. Jim worried that his protruding fangs were unpleasant to work around, but his lips were still mostly pliable, and Claire seemed to mind taking the time to figure it out...so they took the time.

And once they did? Bliss.

A lot of the things Jim had hoped for in his life had been lost to him, now that he couldn't be a part of human society - or go out in daylight - but the fact that he could still count "making out with my amazing girlfriend in the woods" as a present and future delight did a lot to bolster his spirits.

They kissed until they were both tense and breathless, and then broke apart and laid down on their sides, facing each other.

She caressed his hands and he rubbed hers back.

Slyly, Jim said, "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Claire picked up what he'd put down and immediately ran with it.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much. Which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

"Ay, pilgrim." Claire gently stroked his cheek. "Lips that they must use in prayer."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take." Jim leaned over and kissed her gently. "Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged."

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took."

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again!"

This time Claire kissed him, long and deep, then drew back and lay looking at him.

"You kiss by th' book," she said, with a sly raise of an eyebrow.

Jim broke character.

"Yeah, I have a good study buddy," he said.

Claire laughed, then stared at him adoringly, but she was too tired to do it for long. Her eyelids fluttered shut. Jim tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, tracing the well-worn path her own fingertips often did when she bashfully tucked her hair out of her face.

It wasn't zipping up a dress, but it may as well have been.

"You should go to sleep," he said gently, when he noticed her trying to keep her eyelids open. "You're not going to have much time to before we move again."

"Good night, Jim," she said softly.

"Good night, Claire."

Her eyes drifted shut and he lay there, watching her sleep, waiting for sleep to take him too. He was tired, but not "crash right away" tired. He wished it was easy like it used to be, but his hybrid nature kept hunger, or time for healing or sleep, unpredictable. He stayed awake for quite some time after Claire's breathing had evened. He didn't mind at all. Claire was okay with him being there, so it meant he had tacit permission to watch her sleep. So he watched the fading light outside soften her features, and seared her face onto his memory, grateful that their time, even on the move, occasionally stood still like this.

Like he'd told Toby, every feeling he had these days filled him to bursting. The positive emotions weren't painful like the negative ones but they were no less intense. He felt that intensity there beside Claire, and was overcome with warmth - love - protectiveness, and other strange feelings he couldn't name.

The other strange feelings he couldn't name were probably behind what happened next.

Because a bug crawled into her hair.

And everything went downhill from there.


A short time later, Blinky stared up at the top of a very tall tree, six eyes blinking in owlish confusion. The situation left him - nay, the whole camp - completely at a loss. All that anyone could definitely discern was that there was a problem - and the problem had escalated completely out of control.

"Master Jim, I've attempted gentle persuasion and that's been extremely inefficacious thus far, so you've left me no choice but to attempt forceful, authoritative resolve:" Blinky pointed at the ground. "Get down from there right this instant!"

"NO!"

Several pine needles fell from the tree with the force of Jim's shout.

"I live here now!"

Blinky sighed. "Master Jim, you've left me no choice. I'm afraid I have to call in heavy reinforcements."

Blinky pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed.

"No point!" Atop the massive pine tree, Jim huddled against the trunk for maximum camouflage and hollered down. "I'm not coming down and Mom can't make me either!"

Downstate, Barbara Lake had just gotten to sleep after her latest 14 hour shift at the hospital. Her phone rang with one of the extra loud tones she'd assigned to a few specific numbers, and she bolted upright in bed, her hair tangled half-in her scrunchy and her glasses dangling off one ear. She looked at the clock blearily.

Then, registering what it meant to get a call from that number just past midnight, she frantically grabbed her phone and shoved her glasses back on her face.

"Mr. Blinky, what's wrong?"

Back in Yosemite, Blinky peered up the tree.

"I'm sorry to wake you at this hour. It's nothing disastrous, Barbara, but I need your help. Master Jim seems to be...ah, emotionally distressed over something, but is having difficulties articulating the tribulation at the root of his perturbation."

"My what?!" Jim cried out. "What are you telling her that I'm doing up here?!"

Blinky held a hand on the speaker so Barbara didn't have him yelling in her ear. "Your perturbation, Master Jim! 'Perturbation' is a state of being perturbed, as in upset or distressed!"

"...oh." A pause. "I thought you said something else."

"Perhaps if you were to come down from the tree, you'd more easily be able to hear my diction accurately!"

"I'M NOT COMING DOWN. EVER!"

"He's up a tree?" asked Barbara.

"Yes, he's relocated himself up a particularly towering ponderosa pine and is insisting - as you perhaps heard - that he's never coming down."

"Blinky, put me on speaker," Barbara suggested. He did so and held up the phone. Barbara called up - "Jim, honey, why do you want to live in a tree now?"

"It's none of your business!" Jim shouted, from his new tree-house.

"Excuse me, mister!" Barbara projected her gasp all the way up to the canopy. "I think you should come down from that tree right now and say that where I can see your face!"

Atop the tree, Jim winced. "Sorry, Mom," he called, sounding reticent. "But I'm staying here!"

"None of you can climb the tree?" she asked Blinky.

"Most of us are too heavy. I'd have concerns regarding its structural integrity if anyone larger than Jim himself were to make the attempt. Nomura or Not-Enrique could perhaps -"

"Climb up there when all I'm likely to get for me trouble is a kick to me face?" interrupted Not-Enrique. "Not a chance! Normally I'd start a pool to take bets on how long 'e stays up, but Jim's an alright kid so I'm holding back."

"How generous of you," said Blinky with a flat expression. He turned to Nomura, who stood nearby with her arms crossed. "Nomura, what about you?"

"I don't do teen angst."

"The only other alternative is Claire -"

"No! If you wake up Claire, I'll go live in another tree instead, where nobody can find me!"

"Jim, talk to us, honey. Why do you want to live in a tree? What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"If it's making you feel this bad, you need to talk about it. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not that bad -"

"It's the worst!"

"- and that you can get past it if we talk about it -"

"My life is over!"

Barbara was stymied. That came as no shock to Blinky. He'd learned enough about their relationship to know that Jim had been an almost supernaturally well-behaved child for most of his life. The problems she'd had once Jim became the Trollhunter had come from Jim keeping everything locked away, unspoken. For Jim to throw a dramatic tantrum, why, Blinky wondered if Jim had even done such a thing before, outside of his his human larval stage - a time that most humans got a little screamy.

In fact, Jim's intense emotions were often a shock to Jim as well. Perhaps it had been only a matter of time before he underwent a bout of emotional distress like the one he'd had right after his change.

"This is pretty severe," said Barbara thoughtfully. "I'm bringing in more backup. Let me call you through the group chat app this time."

Barbara hung up. A moment passed and Blinky accepted an invite into a group video chat. A new window sprung up besides Barbara's, and Blinky put the call on speaker again, holding it up to face Jim.

"Jim, buddy, why d'you live in a tree all of a sudden?" Toby asked, groggy in his Gun Robot jim-jams.

"Nobody will understand! Tell everyone to go back to sleep and forget I was ever born."

"I will not!" said Toby, scandalized at the mere suggestion.

"And I wouldn't believe him," Barbara added. "Your birth is 23 hours of my life I am never going to forget."

"MOM!"

"Just tell us what's going on, Jimbo," Toby said gently.

"Tell friends. Friends help," Arrrgh looked over Toby's shoulder, barely in frame.

"Who else are you going to call, Mom?" Jim cried out with a scowl. "Are you going to call Steve next?"

"Would that help?" Barbara asked, mistaking his tone. "Hold on, I'll see if he's awake..."

"No, it won't help! That will not help!"

Barbara didn't answer. She'd already cut the video and muted the chat.

"...Mom?"

"She may be privately contacting - ah yes, someone else has joined the chat," said Blinky.

"Lake, why are you up a tree, man? It's butt o'clock at night, you buttsnack."

"You actually called Steve?!" Jim shrieked. "Why would you call Steve? I was being sarcastic!"

"Well, how was I supposed to tell?" said Barbara. "I'm not used to you being this sarcastic! You never used to talk back!"

"WELL I GUESS I'M SETTING ALL KINDS OF UNCOMFORTABLE MILESTONES TODAY!"

"Jim, talk to us, sweetie. I know you're going through a lot of changes. It can be confusing and even embarrassing. Your emotions are a wilder hormonal roller coaster than they were before. But whatever it is that's bothering you, we're here for you, and there's nothing you could say that would make us see you any differently."

He went quiet for a long time and let out a shaky breath. It seemed as if they'd finally gotten shrunk in closer to the tree, shifting in the small nest of branches that held him up. After all the dramatics and the yelling, his final admission was quiet.

"Claire was sleeping and … I don't know what came over me. Like some weird instinct I - I don't understand why I did it." He paused, dragging the admission out. "I ate - I ate th -"

Steve cut in with a gasp, "You ate Claire?"

In horror, Jim screamed "NO!"

"Then who'd you eat, Jim?" Steve pressed.

"It wasn't a who, okay!" Jim shouted. "It was a bug! In her hair! It was in her hair so I picked it out of her hair and I ate it! I ate the bug!"

It burst out of him in his hurry to correct Steve. Jim looked askance, realizing what - and how fast - he'd admitted it.

"So I'm NEVER LEAVING THIS TREE because I LIVE HERE NOW and YOU'LL ALL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN IT'S FOR THE BEST ALRIGHT BYE."

Jim disappeared.

Well, he didn't actually disappear. He climbed around the treetrunk, leaping through the branches a little higher. The trunk blocked him from view of Blinky's phone.

Mostly.

"Jim." Toby cut in. "Hey, Jim. We can still see you. Like… even with Blinky only using his phone light."

"Yeah, you don't have a lot of real estate up there, Lake," Steve added.

"Also, you can't live up there," Toby pointed out, "because the sun will eventually come up and that's a little too high up in the canopy."

Jim was silent for a moment. He squirmed back down a little bit. He said nothing, other than emitting a growly chuffing noise, like an irritated shepherd dog.

Barbara struggled - and succeeded admirably - in not laughing at her son. "Honey, what made you feel like you should eat the bug?"

"I don't know! That's the whole problem! We were going to bed and cuddling and everything was nice and we said good night and she went to sleep and I wasn't tired yet, so I was looking at her and everything was perfect... " Jim buried his head in his hands. "And then I saw a bug in her hair and I picked it out and I ate it! "

"Like it was some kind of instinct?" Barbara asked.

Jim groaned, his head still in his hands. "Who sees a bug and instinctively thinks 'I should eat that?' Who thinks that?"

"Uh," Steve helpfully pointed out. "You do, obviously."

Jim bared his fangs at the distant phone. "Why are you even still here, Steve?"

"Hey, I'm helping! I didn't have to wake up, Lake!" Steve pouted, clearly irritated over Jim not understanding that he'd actually left the chat app open to ping so he'd hear it no matter what. "And it's not my fault you're acting like a monkey."

"A monkey?" Blinky inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"Uh, yeah. He's climbing up trees and eating bugs off people, right? That's what monkeys do?"

"That is kind of what monkeys do," Toby put in.

"Why would I be acting like a monkey? Shouldn't I be acting like a human or a troll or...a whatever that's both those things at the same time?"

"A salient question, indeed, Master Jim." Blinky was suddenly in deep thought, one of his hands rubbing at his chin. The other waved towards the nearby trolls who had gathered. "One of you, bring me the wizard!"

"Already ahead of you," said Nomura. She had briefly slipped away and had already returned, bodily dragging Merlin along in a headlock. "This is his fault."

"Unhand me, changeling!" Merlin drew away from her and rubbed his lower back. "Even with my magic back, I'm not getting any younger, you know."

"Wizard," said Blinky, "Master Jim is dealing with new instincts, but they seem neither trollish nor human in nature. Modern humans have eschewed their primate roots and trolls have never had grooming instincts due to symbiotic species like the gnomes. So why -" He gestured with every arm not holding the phone "- is Master Jim experiencing such instincts? When you pulled him apart and put him back together, precisely what elements from each species did you include?"

"Elements?" Merlin scoffed. "You talk like I scoured both species for specific attributes and made exhaustive lists. I didn't even have a full Alchemist's lab to work with. No, the time and resources being what they were, I just -" He waved his hands vaguely. "- threw something together."

"You changed his nature and 'just threw something together'?" Blinky cried out in outrage.

"Well, I didn't have much to work with, did I? All that was necessary were the most important fundamental attributes. As for how it all gelled together, I 'winged it,' as the youths say."

"You can't 'wing it' with a magical transformation potion!" Jim cried. "I'm not a crock pot casserole!"

"And yet I did. As for what that means regarding his new nature, the nitty gritty specifics, he'll have to discover them for himself." Merlin stretched. "Anyway, your questions have been answered and I need my rest."

"You also can't just shrug and say -" Toby made an "I dunno" noise "- and wander off again!"

"I can't?" asked Merlin. "Hmm. And yet I seem to be doing it."

He shrugged, made the 'I dunno' noise, and wandered off.

"Wizard so useless ," said Arrrgh in venomous frustration, "Arrrgh need more words that mean same as 'useless.'"

"You said it, Wingman," said Toby. "I'll hit the thesaurus and write a few down for you. Off the top of my head, I got: hopeless, inept, and worthless. Ooh, and feckless. I love that one."

"His demonstration of worthlessness, while frustrating, did have some worth, Master Jim."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"His lack of an answer is, in itself, an answer," said Blinky. "It means that no one has any answers about your new nature - but if that is the case, you shouldn't expect easy answers of yourself, either. There's no telling what ancient trollish or human instincts Merlin unearthed with his...feckless meddling."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Jim asked. "That means I'm Frankenstein."

"Frankenstein was the scientist," Steve corrected unhelpfully.

"That means I'm Frankenstein's monster." Jim let go of the tree, digging his bare feet into the branch he was perched on and looked at his mismatched hands. "Even my brain doesn't know what it's supposed to be."

"Honey, your urges are natural," said Barbara.

"She's right, Master Jim. Whatever urges you're feeling are -"

Jim groaned. "Please stop saying 'urges'! I feel like I'm getting the Talk all over again."

"Jim, you're not a monster, you're a miracle," said Barbara gently. "We live in a beautiful world, with all kinds of life in it. Even if Merlin fecklessly worked up some weird juju in his magical petri dish -"

"Look, Arrrgh, I started a trend," Toby observed brightly.

"- what he rebuilt you from were humans and trolls - two natural species in the world. And that means you're still from nature and part of nature. That means anything you are, or do, or feel, is natural."

"An apt observation, Barbara!" Blinky chirped. "Jim, you are the best of both our species now, and while what you've become is...something new, isn't that in and of itself a process natural to most non-troll species? According to the human scientific concept of 'evolution,' a member of a species develops a random mutation that, in the best scenario, provides them with advantages and increased chances of survival. In your case, with your defeat of Gunmar, it's obvious that the changes were advantageous. This means you're not monstrous, you're evolved."

"Evolved," Jim echoed. That sounded much better than 'Smashed haphazardly together.'

"Perhaps Merlin magically forcing this process in his attempt at hybridization simply unearthed a few ancient instincts endemic to both of our species," Blinky went on. "Evolutionary throwbacks, if you will. Though they may be alien or embarrassing, these urges are hardly unnatural, as Barbara said."

"You're making it sound so...science-ey," Jim said. "And normal. How did you make eating a bug sound normal?"

"Well, I was a biologist before I decided to go to med school," said Barbara.

"And I do consider myself something of a natural philosopher, alongside being a historian," Blinky said, snapping his suspenders with two of his free hands.

After a long silence, Jim sighed. "I'm coming down now."

He jumped, landing heavily on the ground. Blinky stepped in close and drew Jim in for a hug.

"Mr. Blinky, make sure that's all arms included, so I can pretend at least one pair are mine," said Barbara forlornly.

"It was so gross," said Jim, finally blurting it all out into Blinky's shoulder, "and so weird and the worst part is it actually tasted good. "

"It's hardly gross or weird, Master Jim. Though not one of our primary sources of sustenance, trolls are known to eat members of the phylum Arthropoda on occasion."

"Humans in plenty of countries do it, too. When I was in the Peace Corps in Ecuador, I ate spiced beetles and palm weevil grubs."

"Ew."

"Don't ew me, they were delicious! And high in protein."

"And it's natural for any nurturing or grooming instincts to be directed at those you care for," Blinky continued, one hand gently cradling the back of Jim's head.

"Yeah, if you ever pick a bug off me and eat it, I'd be flattered!" said Toby.

"But what if I do it again without thinking? And Claire sees? She'll think it's so gross."

"Then tell her ahead of time, Lake," said Steve, with a 'duh' in his voice, and then with a 'duh' out loud. "Duh. Finding out more about someone makes you hate them less, not more. Like how I found out about your trollhunting thingy and it made me think you were, y'know, alright. And now finding this out makes me want to laugh at you -"

"Thanks, Steve," Jim said rolling his eyes.

"- but also makes me think 'Hey, Lake has all this crazy stuff he's going through and he still tries to be a good guy even though the crazy stuff is hard to deal with' and then I think you're, y'know, more alright."

Jim reeled back out of Blinky's grip, purely out of shock.

"Thanks, Steve?" he said with sincerity. "That was...way more insightful than I was expecting. That's actually helpful. I'm...glad my mom invited you to my mortification party."

"Yeah, Steve!" said Toby, encouraging. "Way to go with that emotional insight!"

"See? That's what I'm talking about. Layers. I'm like an onion now. Be the onion, Lake."

"Are you feeling a little better now?" asked Barbara.

"Yeah, I think I am. Sorry," Jim said, "That I freaked everyone out. I feel so embarrassed - but about freaking everyone out now, instead of...everything."

"Ah, Master Jim, these are mere growing pains. None here stand in judgment of you for experiencing them."


Off to the side, Not-Enrique watched the mushy-gushy with more satisfaction than he cared to admit. Maybe he wasn't willing to get kicked out of a tree for no reason, but it was still nice to see the kid get the help he needed to get back on an even keel. That Steve guy's assessment of Jim undersold it: he was a lot more than 'alright.'

Not that he'd ever admit that out loud more than once.

A noise in the bush briefly caught his attention, but when he looked, he saw nothing. The noise didn't come again, so he dismissed it as a small animal or a dropping pine cone.

Still, call it his paranoid Changeling instincts, but he couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched.


In the distance where she'd relocated after the tiny Changeling had almost seen her, a young woman in forest camouflage hid and watched as the many-eyed troll spoke to the Trollhunter.

Her golden spyglass, etched with arcane designs, obliterated the darkness. Through the lens she saw everything bright as day - and magnified. The silver horn at her ear let her hear everything, too. She might as well have been part of the group hug.

This group of weirdos clearly supported each other. And the Trollhunter? Total dreamboat, even though his fashion sense was terrible. (Sweat pants and souvenir hoodies galore.) But it wasn't his fault. It wasn't like there was a Monster Big N' Tall for him to go to.

They seemed nice. Like, really nice.

But she had a job to do and the stakes were too high to do it badly. She put her spygear away and jogged deeper into the wilderness. It was time to report in.


Jim ran into Claire halfway back to their shelter.

"You didn't have to get up -" he said, at the same time she said, "I woke up and saw you were gone and tried to go back to sleep but you stayed gone so long -" and the worry in her eyes made Jim feel guilty.

"Sorry," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I had to go - um -" he looked askance. He could always... not admit to doing what he'd done -

But nah.

They walked back to the shelter, Claire listening quietly with her big eyes wide as he explained.

"I was embarrassed about something and had a little freakout - okay, maybe it was a big freakout, and Blinky called my mom and Toby and everything -"

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because...because it involved you."

"How did it involve me?"

"Claire," he said, pausing dramatically. "I ate a bug. Like...that was in your hair. I saw it and I grabbed it and I ate it. Blinky and my mom think the way Merlin took me apart and put me back together gave me weird ancient human instincts, like animal instincts, but it's still weird and it's still embarrassing and I still ate a bug -"

Claire stared ahead, quiet for a moment as she processed all the rambling.

As she ducked down to get back in their shelter, she asked, "So...how does it feel to be the only somewhat-human who's ever eaten a bug in their life?"

Jim felt several of his organs compress like they were mercy-killing him out of the situation. He ducked down and followed her in. "Well I - I guess it -"

He suddenly caught Claire's small, amused smile and the humor in her voice finally registered.

"You're making fun of me," he accused. "I mean, I'd make fun of me for eating a bug too, but -"

"Then you'll have to make fun of me as well, after you look up what chapulines are," Claire said, snickering. "My abuelita sometimes makes them when we visit."

Jim had no idea what chapulines were, but the idea that Claire was presenting, that she had eaten some sort of grandma-cooked bug made him realize that of course she was kidding.

"Uh. Mom said she ate some grubs and stuff when she was in the Peace Corps in Ecuador," he volunteered. "Which...still makes eating a bug out of your girlfriend's hair seem weird to me. Doesn't that seem weird to you? Aren't you weirded out?"

"Weirded out? By your strange new half-troll instincts? When people have been eating bugs since, oh, the dawn of humanity?" Claire laughed. "I'd be weirded out if you'd eaten my hair maybe, but -" she paused, looking at him. "You...don't want to eat my hair, do you?"

"Oh I don't know, a little alfredo, maybe some lemon zest, it could go down easy," Jim said, but Claire, unlike him, picked up on the joking tone right away and laughed.

"Maybe if you soaked all the frizz out with conditioner first," she said, pressing down on her tangles. "I think this bird's nest would choke you to death."

Her smattering of real embarrassment made Jim laugh.

"I ate a bug out of your hair and you're still stuck on it being a little poofy?"

"Jim, when someone calls you a gorgon, you don't forget it in a hurry!"

She'd accepted his new little bout of weirdness in the space of a heartbeat and already moved on.

She was right about her hair looking like it was a nest for baby birds and she was right about her face being blotchy but as she stared at him with half-lidded eyes in the small sliver of moonlight that only he could see in, he still thought her face was the most beautiful thing that he'd ever seen.

It would always be, even if it got scarred, even if it got old and wrinkled.

"You know, I don't think I've said it back yet," he whispered. "I can't believe I haven't yet."

"Said what?"

"I love you," Jim said breathlessly.

Claire smiled and Jim thought it was radiant. The light in her eyes cut through the dark even better than his armor's light did.

"I love you, too."

She'd said it before, on the school roof, but it thrilled him as much to hear her say it again.

"All of you," she added. "Even the parts you think are embarrassing."

"It's just...hard," Jim admitted. "There's all these weird new instincts." Distracted by his thoughts, he added, "And old instincts getting stronger..."

"What kind of old instincts?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Suddenly put on the spot, Jim's eyes went wide as he realized he needed a different answer than what he'd meant and didn't have a fake one premade. As his brain cast about for one - and failed to find it - his cheeks went hot.

"Normal...human...ones?"

"What kind of normal human ones?" she asked, leaning closer.

"Ummmm."

She giggled a little and then caressed his face.

"That's not always a weird thing, Jim. Sometimes that's a normal thing that happens when feelings change. Normal human instincts getting stronger. Sometimes stuff like that happens to everyone." She added wryly, "There's a reason we don't have a joint sleeping bag."

Jim choked on his own spit.

Then he grinned so hard he felt like his face was going to split and settled into his sleeping bag too, facing her. He wanted to say something but was smart enough to know that saying the wrong thing could totally kill the moment - and said underlying 'normal human instincts.' Best not give her any reasons to change her thinking on the matter.

Claire held out her hand expectantly.

"Okay. I've been having trouble sleeping. Hand it over."

"Uuuh, hand what over?"

"The tail. I want the tail."

Jim laughed and his tail snaked up through a gap in the sleeping bag blankets. She caressed the little tuft of fur gently and Jim relaxed, every muscle turning to jelly. It felt strange, but definitely like a hand, or someone petting his hair. Strange but relaxing and gentle and cuddly.

"Does this fall under 'making it weird'?" he said, closing his eyes blissfully. "I think it does."

"Nope. It falls under 'it's cute and the little fluffy part is fluffy.'"

"You know, we've been treating it like another hand, but Toby thinks it's technically part of my butt. A butt-hand, if you will."

"Jim, shut up and let me touch the butt."

Jim considered it a great accomplishment that he managed to stifle his laughter so they could actually quiet down and nap.


Deeper in the woods, the brunette woman in camouflage stopped to report.

She pulled out the magic puzzle box she'd been given by her "employer" and slid the pieces in the pattern she'd been taught. It opened with a sound like the shifting of clockwork.

"The adorable little animals whose lives you made me throw away -" she growled.

"Watch the tone." The interrupting voice seemed almost supernaturally placid, devoid of all emotion, although it was hard to tell for sure through the voice distorter.

The woman in fatigues breathed a little snort of anger.

"Sorry. Anyway, the santers didn't even throw them off balance. They struggle more with Deep Personal Issues, so I don't think anything coming from the outside is going to throw them off. Maybe you should use one of your other denizens of evil to face them instead, and we can call it a done deal and I can get my reward."

"I don't employ you to think. That's my job. You will test them the way I ordered you to. If the santers were ineffective, escalate. And report the results so the data can be analyzed."

The woman clenched a fist.

"How do I know you'll give me what you promised when I'm done? If the job takes too long..."

"Then ensure it doesn't."

The voice disconnected. The woman was left alone in the woods, her eyes wide and afraid. Then her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pressed together in a thin line of determination.

She tucked the device away and drew out a crystal flute, twirling it thoughtfully between her fingers. With her other hand, she drew out a small crystal ball, whispered "Coos Bay, Oregon," and disappeared with a quiet wompwomp noise.