Thanks for the follows, favs, and comments! To be honest it's been a few years since I've written anything more extensive than a cover letter, and I wasn't sure if anyone would want to read my brain explosions. So far I'm having fun though. It's nice to brush off the old skills and put them to work.
"Whew!" Jim breathed a sigh of relief. Arms still overflowing with clothes, he turned his back to the door and leaned against it.
"Uhhhhhh."
Or tried to lean against it. Jim's fall had been interrupted midway, leaving his head and shoulders hanging awkwardly in the air. His eyes flitted backward, but he couldn't turn his neck. The struggle caused an odd sense of pressure on his skull. Oh! The horns! Their points had found purchase in the soft wood. Muttering darkly, Jim tried to pry himself gently off the door. Nope. Still stuck. He pulled harder and-
Jim lurched forward, clothes flying out of his arms and showering the floor and tub. Rolling his eyes he collected the fly-aways and threw them in a pile with the others. Satisfied, he grabbed the end of his sweater and attempted to lift it over his head. Ssskkkkkkkkkkt. The tear that had already formed in the back split further and the remains sprung forward in two pieces. Man! Jim thought, This is my favorite sweater! I mean I wear it practically everyday I- Jim paused. This sweater would not been of much use to him in his current form, even if he hadn't just turned it to rags. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that his poor sweater had not deserved such a grim fate.
A faint red glow from below broke Jim out of these thoughts. His eyes were drawn towards it. The amulet. It was still there, seemingly fused to his chest. He tapped a black nail against the glass. Weird. He could almost feel the vibration. He bent his head, trying to get a better look and, without thinking, spun to face the mirror.
Jim hadn't fully realized until that moment that he had been avoiding looking anywhere near the mirror. Now frozen to the spot, he found himself staring at a creature wearing a surprised and quizzical expression that he recognized, but a face he did not. He took step forward. The reflection followed suit, its eyes wary. This was Jim's first unobscured view of himself since before the transformation. Previous glimpses, within the marred toaster, the rippling water, the dark window, had not done it justice. Jim blinked a few times, twisting his head this way and that. So did the being in the mirror, its eyes boring into Jim's. The thick eyebrows rose and knitted together. The corners of dark lips twitched and twisted. Large bottom canines stuck out, canines that Jim could feel resting on his own upper lip. A hand flew to the spot. It traced the curve of the nose, familiar, but broader than before, and brushed along the span of the horns, rough and striated. Staring at this new creature was confusing. There was so much in the image Jim recognized, but also so much that seemed completely out of place. The full effect was unnerving.
Jim ran his fingers through his hair. It was very soft, almost fur-like. He had always had trouble in the past with his hair being a bit lank. Now, he appeared to have the opposite problem. It fanned out every which way from his face like a mane, continued patchily down his neck, and reformed on his back with a vengeance. Twisting around to get a better look, he could see the dark mass cover his shoulders and form a triangle ending midway down his spine.
The amulet! He had meant to look at the amulet. He turned back around. His chest was bear and blue, looking more like the sculpted suggestion of a human form than anything organic, and there, right over where his heart should be, the amulet glowed softly. He may have been imagining it, but its light almost seemed to fluctuate with a steady pulse.
Well, back to the task at hand. Jim didn't give his jeans the same delicate treatment that he had tried to bestow upon his sweater. They were already hanging in tassles below the knee in any case. He gave a bit of a tug and off they came.
Kneeling over the tub Jim shoveled through the clothes he had gathered, mumbling to himself. "Boot-cut, boot-cut, skinny jeans….uhhh...boot-cut. Why couldn't I have been into cargo pants, or-ummm some 60's style flares?" He really hoped something in here was going to be useful or he was going to have to leave this bathroom in his mother's pink bathrobe. His hands passed over something baggy and soft. Sweatpants. Hmmmm. That might work. He gently pulled them on. They were a bit short, but they would do. Excellent. He was half-clothed. Making progress.
He started searching through the clothes again. No, no. That wouldn't work. Everything seemed so small now. He doubted he could get most of these items over his horns, let alone the rest of him.
The sound of footsteps, without thinking he gave the air a few sniffs. He was no bloodhound like Arrrrgh, but his sense of smell did seem to have enhanced since his change. So far his nose had mainly guided him to items it saw fit to eat. Now it seemed to be telling him something else. He gave another sniff, it was a nice smell. Memories flooded his head, stage lights, a nervous laugh, the sun shining off dark hair...Claire.
There was a knock. "Jim? Are you okay?" Claire's voice sounded like it was forcing itself to be casual. "It's been kinda a while..."
Jim looked down at himself. He still had no shirt. He racked his brains and paced the room. Damn it! There was a reason why his wardrobe was mainly filled with sweaters! He was shy! He liked the way you could sink into a turtleneck or hide behind a hoodie.
"Jim?" Claire's voice was rising, sounding tense. He swore the air grew heavier and it filled him with unease.
Sniff. No, it wasn't the air. It was Claire. Her scent had changed. His nose wrinkled, it had grown sharper around the edges, sickly sweet and— wait was he smelling her fear? Was that something he could do?
More importantly, why was she afraid?
"JIM!"
He flung the door open.
Claire stood there dumbfounded for a second, fist raised as if to pound on the door again. Her eyes looked red and she blinked them furiously. She looked away. He felt nervous. Had he done something wrong? Oh no. Was it him? Did she not want to look at him? Was it that bad?
Claire spoke towards the floor, "You-you weren't answering me! I couldn't hear you at all!"
"I was changing," he mumbled dumbly.
She met his eyes for a moment and then looked away" I - I - You were in there for a while and-" she took a step back and hastily rubbed a fist across one eye, "-the last time you were in there…"
Jim felt his stomach plummet. Oh. Oooooooh. He was such an idiot.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered.
She looked so small, standing their gazing at her feet. "Heyyyy. Heyyyyyyyyy." Jim chided softly. Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders. "Claire, everything's fine. I'm-I'm not going anywhere." He bent his knees a bit, trying to meet her gaze.
"You already disappeared before."
He blinked, confused, furiously racking his brains.
"Killahead!" he shouted excitedly, as if finding the answer to a particularly difficult question in class. She gave him a furtive look and he lowered his voice back down. "Your referring to what happened at Killahead Bridge, right?" He shuffled his feet.
"I thought that now things would be different now that we are all trollhunters. I thought that you trusted us." Her voice grew hoarser, "That you trusted me."
"I do."
"But-"
"Claire, you gotta believe me. If there was anyone I would have opened that door for it was you. I-" He swallowed, "Before I took the potion- when I heard your voice on the side of the door. I almost did." Her eyes flew up to his, "But then- then I heard what you said about Morgana being back and I-I had to do it. I didn't open that door because I knew—I knew that if I saw you, I would never have the strength to turn away."
Claire rose on her toes and wrapped him in a hug. They hung there, silent for a moment.
"Just promise me that from now on, whatever we do, we do it together."
"Promise."
"Hey, ummm, your backs kinda fluffy, haha" She rubbed her hands playfully through the hair.
"Awwww, not the scruff!" he said removing her hands from his neck and smoothing the area out.
She laughed and he felt as if he just caught a glimpse of sunshine on a cloudy day.
They headed down the hall together.
"People were starting to dwindle out when I came to check on you. I'm not sure who's left." She yawned. Jim followed suite. He wasn't sure how much sleep trolls needed. More often than not they seemed to use it more as a time-passing method, something to do during daylight hours. Jim wasn't fully troll though, he was a hybrid and (now that he thought about it) couldn't remember sleeping at all in the past 48 hours.
As they approached the stairs, Jim came to a sudden realization.
"Wait! I—ummmm—I'm still not wearing a shirt!" His hands flew to cover himself. Claire smirked.
"It's fine Jim. Come on. I'm sure no one will care. Blinky doesn't wear a shirt. Arrrrgh doesn't wear a shirt. Draal—" She stopped. "Anyways, it's no big deal."
Jim still had his arms wrapped around himself. "They are all trolls...I'm...half-troll."
"Do you have half a shirt?"
"No...well…"
"Then come on." She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the stairs.
"There you are!" Claire's mother stalked towards them, her father following behind. "What were you doing up there?" Her eyes flicked to Jim for a moment, disapprovingly, then back to her daughter.
"I was just fetching Jim."
"Well now that he has been fetched you can say goodbye. It's late and-" she stretched. "-and I've had an awfully long day." Jim glaced around Mrs. Nuñez towards the rest of the room. Blinky, Nana, and Dictatious were gone. Arrrrrgh was curled up in the middle of the room on a rug that was much too small for him, sound asleep. Toby was snoring on Arrrrgh's back, snuggled in the copious amount of green fur. On the couch his mother and Stickler had fallen asleep, leaning against each other. Jim wrinkled his nose and looked away, back to Mrs. Nuñez.
"Mama, I was actually thinking, I should stay here tonight. You know, to help out." Claire's voice was a forced nonchalant.
"Help out?" Mrs. Nunez waved her arm to the room at large. "Everyone is gone or asleep."
"And if you think we are just going to let you sleep at your boyfriend's house, you have another thing coming, missy!" Claire's father interrupted, pointing an accusatory finger.
"But, Papa!"
"No, buts!" Mrs. Nunez scolded, then her voice softened. "Come on Claire, It's been a full day. You can come back and help your friends out tomorrow."
"No."
Claire hadn't raised her voice, but something in it had changed, become stonier. Both of her parents attention snapped to her face.
"I will not be coming home. I am needed here. You are glad that I am staying here to help. You will go home. Now. I will see you tomorrow."
Jim eyes flicked nervously between Claire and her parents. He prepared himself for a backlash of the worst kind.
"Yes, of course," Mrs. Nunez said, her voice oddly fuzzy, like she had just woken from a long sleep. She blinked rapidly a few times and cleared her throat. When she spoke again she sounded more like her normal self.
"Of course. We are glad you are staying to help. Aren't we, Honey?"
Claire's father blinked and gave his head a bit of a shake. "Ah, yes, very happy. We will," he pivoted towards the door, "be going home. Now. See you tomorrow, Sweety."
Jim stared, mouth agape as they closed the door behind them.
"Claire? Is it just me or were they acting really weir—"
He noticed Claire sway on her feet and reached his arms out to steadied her.
"You okay?"
"Huh? Yeah I'm fine." Claire sniffled a little and wiped the back of one hand across her nose. She smiled.
"Looks like all of the trollhunters are staying here tonight"
"Yeah...I guess so" Jim observed the living room that was now full of the sound of light (and in Arrrgh's case, not so light) snoring. Jim yawned. He would love a bit a oblivion right about now.
Jim crossed the room to where his mom was sprawled on the couch, her back against Strickler's shoulder. Jim removed her glasses and gently placed them on the table, all the while fighting the urge to give Stickler a good punch in the gut. His feelings towards his mentor, turned enemy, turned mentor again were tremulous at best.
He slunk back quietly. "Why don't you take my mom's bed. The wizard is in mine and I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
They began climbing the stairs.
"I'll grab a sleeping bag from my room and meet you there in a moment."
"I'm sure there is room on the bed. Why don't you just-"
"Claire, please, its fine." Claire's lips formed a tight line, but she seemed to decide against arguing. "Anyways, I survived today, it would be a shame to die tomorrow all because your father found out we slept in the same bed." Claire laughed and punched him on the arm lightly.
Jim snuck through his room and over to the closet as quietly as he could. Merlin was snoring loudly from the bed, muttering in his sleep. Jim hardly noticed the lack of light. Sure, colors were still muted, but he was able to pick out outlines and forms with almost the same ease as he would in a brightly lit room. He discovered the sleeping bag tucked away in a corner. As he reached down for it one of his horns became caught in the rod. He stifled a shout as he desentrangled himself, glancing toward the bed. The wizard wheezed a snore and muttered something about 'too many toad snouts.' Jim sighed, he was going to have to try to make a conscious effort to give his head more maneuvering room in the future. Grabbing the sleeping bag, he made his way out into the hall.
The sleeping bag was an old one he used to use for sleepovers with Toby. He wasn't sure if he would have fit in it even in his human form, but he only planned to lay on top of it anyways. He rejoined Claire in his mother's room. She sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes. They flung out at random. She then scrambled back,still fully clothed, and buried herself in the covers.
Jim opened the window to let a breeze in. He then unfurled the sleeping bag next to the bed and tried to get comfortable. He tossed one way and then the other. There was a portion of fur on his back that was sticking up and it was driving him crazy. He twisted his arms this way and that trying and failing to reach it. He gave a grumble of frustration that vibrated just a bit too much to be completely human. Suddenly, he felt a gentle hand on his back, smoothing the fur back into position. He looked over his shoulder to see Claire, a sleepy smile on her face. Her arm was hanging off the bed.
"Turn back around," she said her eyes blinking sleepily.
He did. Relaxing on his side. Her fingers lazily comb through his fur, straightening it out. Even once it is all going in one direction she continued, softly pressing her hand against his back. In the quiet of the room he could hear the soft beating of her heart.
Part of him wanted to protest, he didn't know that much about dating, but he was pretty sure it wasn't normal for your girlfriend to pet you like a kitten. However, with the repetitive motion a blankness had started to take hold of his mind, a blissful numbness that he welcomed. His body started to relax in a way that it hadn't since...well in a way that this body had never actually relaxed before. Claire's hand trailed and fell limp as Jim felt himself slip into the void of sleep.
Jim mind was far away. He felt like a part of him was grasping for purchase, trying to come out of the abyss, while another wanted to hang onto the dark oblivion. He could sense light on the outside of his eyelids, and that was bad. He should just sleep until the brightness went away, but there was something he had to do. There were many things he needed to do, weren't there? He couldn't waste daylight—Sun bad—He had to get up and—stay here, safe—because there was so much to do. He tried to shake the fog from his mind. Some half-remembered dreams hung clinging on his thoughts. He had been climbing trees...and before the trees was a battle...and before the battle-
-Wait-
The potion, the forest, the school, the battle, the house, the tree.
Tree?
Jim came fully awake with a jolt. Rolling sideways he suddenly found himself falling through the air. He gave out a shout of surprise. His body reacted automatically and he twisted midfall. While he did not land gracefully, he did seem to be more or less on his feet. Well, feet and hands anyway. He had fallen in a crouch under the tree in his yard.
What on earth?
He looked up into the the dense branches of the tree he had apparently been sleeping in just moments before. His face scrunched up as he tried to focus, going through his memories of the night before and some blurrier fragments he had thought were dreams.
"Jim!" His mom and Stickler had opened the sliding glass back door. They looked like they had just been awoken. More likely than not it was from the loud crash in the backyard. Or the screaming. Either or.
Jim straightened himself up and rubbing the back of his neck. He assumed what he hoped was a nonchalant smile. Racking his brains for an explanation he began to take a step forward. Then another.
"JIM!" and this shout wasn't like the first. It was blood curdling scream. He looked up to see Claire in the upper window, her face positively distorted in panic.
It was then that he realized his mistake. He had been about to step out of the tree's shade, right into the streaming sunlight. He tried to jump backward, but it was at that very moment that his foot became caught on a root. He was falling forward, with no control. He was about to hit the sunlight and-
Jim fell on his face and hands, eyes squeezed shut in fear. He heard a gasp from his mother and Stricklander.
But there was no pain. He opened his eyes. He was still covered in shadow. He glanced up at his mom who had her hands over her mouth. Sticklander wasn't looking at him, but upward. Jim followed his gaze back up to Claire. Her arms here stretched out the window at odd angles, stiff and reaching. They were shaking fiercely. Her eyes were filled with a milky opal white.
"Jim," She said, and her voice, although her own, was reverberated in a way the doubled and tripled the sound. The shaking continued, spreading outward from her arms and towards the rest of her body. "Take two steps back" Her voice was forceful, almost angry sounding.
Jim obeyed. Scrambling back under the tree on all fours and turning to the face the window again. Claire's arms began to relax, the shaking subsiding. The shadow where Jim had been lying a second before shrunk back, rejoining the tree's. Jim looked up again just in time to see Claire's now normal eyes roll back into her head. She tottered, then crumpled out of sight. He had to hold himself back to prevent himself from jumping straight into the sunlight again. Sticklander, though he couldn't see Claire fully from under the window, seemed to have interpreted the crash and made his way up the stairs. His mother's eyes fell on him.
"I'll get the umbrella," she said.
What's up with Claire? How did Jim end up in the tree? Will Merlin ever return Mrs. Lake's eye mask? Find out next time! Hahaha. Anyways, there is a bit of Jlair in here, but don't expect this fic to get too romantic. Partly because I don't enjoy writing or reading romance very much and partly because it is much more fun to have the characters fumble around like the awkward teenagers they are.