So I originally wasn't going to write a second chapter, but then I started thinking about why Jim would be immune to gaggletacks and also not remember that he's a changeling. Originally, I had wanted to publish this before Season 3, but given the way said season turned out I tweaked parts of the chapter so it wouldn't be as sad... hopefully.

Naturally, I don't own Trollhunters.


"You can't balance both worlds! Eventually you'll have to pick a side!" the version of Jim in the green jacket said as he struggled against the others. Given what he said, Jim was surprised by how human he looked. Not even the part of him that was fully immersed in the world of trolls could actually do what he said for the real Jim to do.

"Are you sure about that? We're a changeling. Existing within both worlds is what we do," Jim said to himself.

The other Jim glared. "Oh, really? Then why do you still only seem to be human, with nothing but our familiar as proof? If I take over, Dr. Lake will have her son back and Trollmarket will have a real Trollhunter."

"No. We're stronger together," Jim said before absorbing the clones back into the amulet.

Jim bit his lip. He was certainly glad that none of the versions of him had had horns, slitted eyes, or anything else of the sort. Not only would that have been difficult to explain to Claire's parents and the teachers, but even though he was a changeling he was very fine with not having physical evidence of it other than his ability to talk to goblins and his familiar.


"We're all here because I made a mistake, and I'm going to continue to make mistakes. But saving an innocent life isn't one of them. When I was in the Darklands, I realized just how many kids never got to grow up, and I decided that I would make the same choice as many times as it took too-"

"He admits to it! He'd do the same thing and doom us all over again!"

That was not what Jim had been going for.


Jim had honestly expected his worst fear to have been Gunmar, or the corpses of his family and friends like when pixies attacked, or maybe a resurrected Bular or Angor Rot. Himself in the Eclipse Armor? That wasn't something he was expecting.

Well, he had fought himself before, when he had gone to the Nuñez barbeque. This shouldn't be too hard.

Heading into the Darklands alone shouldn't have been too hard, either.

When he got a good look at the doppelganger, he realized why he was his own greatest fear. Not the James Lake Jr. who was still cooing within the Darklands, but the changeling who had been created to bring about the end of everything he had come to hold dear. It hadn't just been Merlin's amulet that was ruining his life, but it wasn't like it had been his own to begin with. Even though Toby, Claire, Blinky, AAARRRGGHH!, and his mom had ended up not caring about his origins, it was still felt like fragile acceptance. Would they accept the snarling figure in armor? Even as he stared into what were almost certainly his own slitted eyes, Jim knew had had an easier time accepting that he had replaced an infant. Maybe that was because he hadn't ever seen his true form until now, not even when he held a gaggletack. But why?

"You... you're a part of me," Jim said, and the doppelganger paused. "You're a part of me, and I need to accept that. All of it."


"Mom? I'm home!" Jim said. While evacuating Trollmarket, he had sent her a quick text, stating that despite the message Toby had given not even an hour earlier, he was alive and very much not in the Deep.

"Hello, Young Atlas," Mr. Strickler said. Jim's fingers ghosted over the Amulet upon hearing the other changeling's voice.

"Mr. Strickler?" What was he doing here?

"After everything that's come to light, I believe Ms. Nomura and I can offer you some assistance." As if on cue, she walked out from behind the wall separating the dining area from the kitchen. Jim's hands returned to his sides; he trusted her more than he did his former principal and perhaps once-again teacher, even if she was holding a tea cup.

"I'm guessing Nomura has filled you in?" Jim asked, but the door opened before he could answer.

"Jim, are you - oh," his mom said as she took in the sight of the three of them.

"They're not here to kill me," Jim clarified as she reached towards her purse, likely to pull out her pepper spray.

"Then why?" she asked, glaring at the other two adults in the room.

"How much has he told you?" Nomura asked, being the less phased of the duo.

"That the two of you have tried to kill him multiple times," his mom said as she tried to discreetly ready a guard position from Krav Maga. While she was certainly a force to be reckoned by humans, Jim doubted she could win against either of the other changelings in the room. He placed himself between them.

"Nomura also saved my life in the Darklands, and Mr. Strickler, well, he said they're here to help."

"Barbara, we -" Mr. Strickler started, only to be pinned down by a glare.

"Don't call me Barbara."

"Of course, Dr. Lake," he said with a surprising amount of sheepishness. "My associate -" Nomura rolled her eyes at the title "- and I are hear to help Jim stop Gunmar, as well as provide some information for as to what he is."

"Or at least, we're going to assume it's about Little Gynt here and not some other changeling who came into the world about sixteen years ago," Nomura said, gesturing For. "It should be him, though, since the records we found at the Janus Order indicated there had only been one who had survived at. Then again, it was a mess there, with all the bodies; I wouldn't be surprised if Gunmar destroyed some of the files out of spite."

"Wait, how long ago did you return to the Janus Order?" Jim asked.

"About two hours ago," Mr. Strickler said. "Thankfully Gunmar and his soldiers were gone, or the chances of us reaching out to you would be lessened."

"We must have just missed you, then," Jim said.

"What did you find on Jim?" Dr. Lake asked, and he tried not to flinch, tried not to spiral into wondering if she was thinking about him or if she was thinking about her real, human son still trapped in the Darklands.

"About twenty years ago, experimentation was started on thirty-or-so newly-captured troll whelps at the orders of our creator, the Pale Lady," Mr. Strickler said. "The goal was to take away a Changeling's main weakness - the Gaggletack."

Nomura rolled her eyes. "What Avocado here means is the fact that we're forced to change forms when we come into contact with them. It'd be easier than trying to eradicate iron horseshoes." Mr. Strickler glared at her and made a move to take back the conversation, but she continued talking over him. "Only one of the whelps survived the process, and was replaced in a family in New York. That particular whelp only grew more ill, and disappeared quite suddenly. We assumed it died, but, well, sixteen years later we have a seemingly-human Trollhunter who can carry around a Gaggletack but also has a human familiar in the Darklands."

Barbara gazed at her son, a sad realization dawning in her eyes. "You got so sick at the end of our trip to visit my parents when you were a baby, but I, well, your dad and I had thought it had been the weather or something."

"Mom, it's okay, you couldn't have known," Jim said before frowning. "Could me getting sick be why I don't remember working for Gunmar or..." Or how to become what he had seen in the Deep.

"That is possible," Mr. Strickler said. "According to our records you were also very young to be sent out, so that could also play a part. The fact that he seems to hold a deeper bond with his familiar than the rest of us could also be a reason."

Taking in the quizzical expressions from the mother and son Nomura continued. "Since I was on the same plane of existence as my familiar when I was trapped in the Darklands, I couldn't turn into my human form even if I wanted to. NotEnrique is now nothing more than a tiny troll with an immunity to sunlight since you rescued Claire's brother. If I'm remembering your complaining correctly from the cells, you didn't realize that you weren't human until after you had been in the Darklands for two weeks."

"Looks like you're going to have to still try and graduate from high school, then," Barbara said. Jim groaned, remembering the conversation they had had. His grades and excessive tardiness were starting to really starting to cut into his ability to pass his sophomore year, and he had argued that once he got his familiar back from the Darklands, he couldn't hope to live a normal human life.

"Now, Young Atlas, do you have a gaggletack available?" Mr. Strickler asked. Jim pulled the cloth-wrapped horseshoe out of his bag and set it on the table.

"Just in case the immunity wears off," Jim said as the questioning gazes of the adult changelings burned into him.

"Since it forces the rest of us into our other forms, you might be able to use it to jump-start your transformation," Nomura said. "Try grabbing on to it and summoning your other form." Mr. Strickler looked on between the other two changelings in the room with what almost seemed to be boredom until he realized that Barbara was still glaring at him.

Jim unwrapped the gaggletack, but hesitated to do any more of what he had been told.

"It's okay, Jim," his mom said. "I'm not going to reject you just because you have horns, stone for skin, or anything else."

"You're certainly a better parent than most of us get," Nomura said as Jim grabbed onto the gaggletack. "He's lucky to have you."

A minute passed, and then another. Jim tried to ignore Mr. Strickler's gaze and his mom and Nomura's conversation. He needed to accept the form of himself that he had encountered in the Deep. He would only be stronger if all the parts of him were working together.

It was easier said than done, but he was trying.

"Yeah, about that immunity," Jim said. "I don't think it's going to wear off any time soon."

"I told you we should have brought the Grave Sand," Mr. Strickler said to Nomura.

"What's Grave Sand?" Jim asked.

"It's the ground up bones of fallen Gumm-Gumms. We changelings use it to help cast aside our human forms and unlock our more Trollish nature."

"How does it work?"

"One breathes it in, preferably through the nose. If eaten, the effects are more difficult to handle."

As someone who was in over her head, she knew that it was probably a good idea to listen to any option that could help her son survive, even if it was coming from her ex. As a doctor, Barbara Lake knew that the various chemicals one put in one's body could do either help or harm, but generally if they were to be inhaled through the nose they had a tendency to do harm.

"You're not going to be having my son snort a stimulant!"

"And to think you used to teach teenagers," Nomura said, clearly enjoying this too much.