Jim had returned to the National Museum of Natural History about an hour before closing time, and he headed back to the hall of geology, gems, and minerals. Once again, he spent a bit that time in meditation, but he brought himself out of it about five minutes before his supposed father had shown up the night before. He had the gaggletack hooked on his belt under his jacket and his amulet in his pocket as usual. If he was right, he wanted to be prepared in case things became violent. If he was wrong... Explaining hitting the man in the face with a horseshoe would be a task in itself.
Those last few minutes went by at an agonizingly slow rate for him. But finally, he heard footsteps coming toward the hall. He took a breath as they came closer, and they stopped a short distance from him.
"Excuse me, sir," the guard beckoned. "The museum is- wait." Jim turned around and the man sighed. "You're here again? Come on, kid. You need to leave. Now." Jim folded his hands behind his back and turned toward the display he had been looking at before.
"What if I don't?" He asked. The guard let out a huff and approached him.
"Then you'll be trespassing and I'll have to remove you, and if necessary, call the police," he said. "Come on, kid. Neither of us want that. Time to go." Jim turned back to him with one eyebrow raised.
"Fine, fine. I'll go." He started toward the main hall, and the guard followed close behind him. "What, you don't trust me?"
"Not really," the guard replied. "This is the second night in a row I've caught you back here. I'm just gonna make sure you actually leave."
"If that's what you want," Jim said with a smirk as the guard came to walk at his side. It was perfect.
He pulled the gaggletack from his belt, and before the guard could do anything to react, Jim shoved it into the side of his face. It reacted strongly, and Jim leapt back as a strange light quickly engulfed the guard.
He was now looking at a troll with smoky gray stone skin, dark yellow eyes, and tan horns surrounded by scraggly brown hair. This troll spun toward him with a horrified look in his eyes, and Jim smirked as he twirled the gaggletack around his finger.
"How..." the troll managed to say. "How did you know?"
"You recognized me," Jim replied. "You knew me immediately." He hooked the gaggletack back on his belt and slid his hand into his pocket, his fingers running across his amulet. "Isn't that right, Dad?" The Troll stared at him a moment longer before lowering his gaze and sighing heavily.
"You're a smart boy, Jim," he said. "I suppose you'd have to be with all that you've done, what with Bular and Angor Rot and returning from the Darklands alive." He shook his head. "I imagine you have questions for me, but it'll have to wait."
"What, sixteen years wasn't long enough for you to come up with an excuse?" Jim demanded as he pulled the amulet from his pocket. "Are you really my father? Or did you just take his place?" The Changeling flinched and averted his gaze.
"I'm your father, Jimmy," he replied. "Me, not my Familiar. Regardless of all of that, you're my son." Jim scowled and clenched his fists. He started to say something, but the Changeling cut him off. "I know you're confused and hurt. I'm not even going to try to convey how thankful I am that you haven't pulled your sword on me already. But Jim, you have to leave." He kept going before Jim could interrupt. "Look, are you still going to be around tomorrow?"
"I can be," Jim nearly growled. The troll nodded.
"I'll take you to lunch then, and you can ask me whatever you want." He met Jim's gaze steadily. "I would prefer to do so as father and son rather than... the alternative."
"Lunch?" Jim almost laughed. "Are you kidding?"
"I'm entirely serious." He focused for a moment and returned to his human form. "Jim, please. I promise none of my cohorts will know you're here. I won't try to do anything relating to Lord Gunmar's orders."
"Lord Gunmar..." Jim muttered darkly, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.
"Jim, please," he nearly begged, a pleading and desperate look in his eyes. "I know I have no right to ask for one, but please give me this chance. I've been worried sick about you ever since I heard that you had picked up that amulet." Jim's eyes remained harsh, but he lowered his hands to his sides. He set aside his anger as best he could and looked into the man's gaze steadily.
"...Half an hour, somewhere with outside seating," he finally said. "I'll meet you outside the museum at noon tomorrow. And none of your friends. Those are my terms." The man hunched over in relief and nodded vigorously.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, Jim!" He started toward the Trollhunter, who retreated quickly. "Right. Very well, then. I'll see you tomorrow at noon." Jim nodded.
"Tomorrow at noon." With that, he walked past the man and quickly left the museum, amulet still in hand.
Jim had set himself up a campsite in the Trolls' tunnel instead of worrying about a hotel room, and he'd perhaps managed about three or so hours of sleep that night with the rest spent gazing into a fire he built as he contemplated the meeting. He had so many questions about this: His father was a Changeling, so what did that mean for him? As far as he could tell, he was human through and through.
He looked down at his amulet as he recalled the Trolls' reaction to him when he first took up the mantle of Trollhunter. A human had never set foot in a Trollmarket before, and they certainly never expected one to be their defender. Maybe, he pondered, it had chosen him because of his parentage. He may have been human, but if his father was in some way part Troll... perhaps that's why the amulet had called to him. It was something he would have to discuss with Blinky, maybe Draal and Vendel, but figured he would keep it from the other Trolls. It took them long enough to get used to a human Trollhunter. He could only imagine the chaos he would cause if they found out their chosen protector was the son of an Impure.
He laid back with his head on his bag as he tried to come to terms with that. His father, James Lake, was a Changeling working for Gunmar. They were on two sides of a war, and Jim had a feeling he would cross blades with his father sooner or later now that they knew about each other. But had he been telling the truth? Had he really been concerned for Jim's safety when news got around about who the amulet had chosen?
"Couldn't have been that worried if he didn't even feel like sticking around," he muttered.
The next day, after watching the sunrise over the capital, Jim had gone for a run around the area to kill time. He tried to make a point of at least jogging a few times a week with Barbara back home, but today he didn't care about keeping an inconspicuous pace. He probably covered at least five miles before he even started thinking about it, and he chuckled as he could hear Coach Lawrence's comments about it back in his junior year when his class had run a mile, and he had finished in under six minutes.
"Sheesh, Lake! What's gotten into you? Got some secret training going on?"
Jim's instincts had taken over in just about every aspect of his physical education and workouts. If something came at him, he dodged or hit it back in any way possible. If he was running, he went for speed and distance. Deya help the poor soul that got stuck with him back when the coach made them wrestle.
As the sun climbed higher, he headed back for the museum and arrived about thirty minutes ahead of schedule, but apparently his father was just as antsy about the meeting and came early as well. Jim's brow rose as the man waved him over and even smiled.
"Good morning, Jim," he greeted as the young man approached him.
"Morning," Jim replied. "I guess... should we just get going? No point in standing around."
"Right." James nodded. "There's a nice cafe not too far from here that I thought we could visit. Outside seating, as you requested. I'm glad it's such a beautiful day."
"I do like being out in the sun," Jim said, and his father chuckled.
"Me too, believe it or not. Granted, I don't see it as much as I'd like, what with my occupation. Shall we?" He started walking, and Jim accompanied him at his side. His amulet pulsed in his pocket, but he willed it to remain inactive.
"So... How are you, Jim?" James asked, and Jim looked over at him with a look somewhere between perplexed and annoyed. James frowned. "Jim, please. I told you, I want this to be a lunch between us as father and son, not the alternative. I'm willing to put it aside if you are."
"Easy for you to say," Jim grumbled, and he sighed. "Fine. I'll try." He leaned his head back and took a breath. "All things considered, I'm okay. My... job keeps me pretty busy."
"That busy?" James wondered. "I hadn't heard much of any disturbances in Arcadia. I figured you'd be pretty bored."
"They call me to take care of practically everything," Jim replied. "Right down to pest control. They once called me Jim the Gnome Slayer." James wholeheartedly laughed at this. "Plus my friend Toby and I have been busy with our gem trading business."
"Yes, I heard about the donation you made," James agreed. "Quite generous of you, son. Almost everyone at the museum was very excited about it."
"Happy to help." Jim shrugged.
"So..." James said. "How's your mother doing?" Jim tried not to glare at him.
"She's fine. She started her own practice."
"And... what does she think of your hunting business?" Jim smirked.
"You really think I'd drag Mom into this?" He shook his head. It was a lie, sure, but he had no interest complicating these matters even further. "She doesn't know. It hasn't been easy keeping it from her and I hate lying, but I want to keep her safe."
"I suppose that makes sense," James murmured. "I hope it hasn't strained things between you two that much."
"We take care of each other." They both fell silent for a while until they arrived at the cafe, and took their seats at a small table on a patio.
"So, anyone special in your life?" James asked once they had ordered their meals.
"I do have a girlfriend, if that's what you mean," Jim replied. "Her name's Claire. Her brother is the one I brought home from you-know-where."
"Aaaaah, yes," James nodded. "I see. No doubt that scored you quite a few points in her book." Jim only shrugged. A few minutes later, their orders came out- an omelet and coffee for James and a sandwich and tea for Jim. They both picked at their meals for a little while longer.
"Why did you leave?" Jim finally asked, and James looked up from his food. He sighed and nodded.
"I suppose I owe you that much," he said. "Honestly, the whole girlfriend thing was a lie. I left because..." He lowered his voice. "Bular had issued new orders to us while we were building the bridge. He was getting more and more desperate to complete it, and I realized that might mean putting you and your mother in danger. Cha- People like me didn't usually have families. It wasn't unheard of, and we were likely even less suspected than others because of it, but even so, it was rare. I'll remind you, this was back during the days of Kanjigar. There was no such thing as a human... you know." Jim nodded slowly. James took a breath, shoving a part of his omelet with his fork. "So that's my reason. I was afraid of what might happen if you or your mother stumbled on something you shouldn't have. I was no longer simply there waiting for orders. So I looked for an opening somewhere away from Arcadia and found it first in Vermont searching for pieces of the bridge, then here at the museum looking through the stones and gems for anything of use."
"But to not even stay in touch?" Jim demanded. "To just vanish? Do you know how hurt Mom was?!"
"I can only imagine how much pain I caused you both," James agreed. "But I thought it would be best if neither of you tried to follow me. I wanted to keep you as far from all of this as possible. I never..." he looked down, his expression pained. "I never thought my own son would take up the amulet." Jim braced his chin in his hand with his elbow on the table.
"I've had it for over five years," he pointed out. "And still, I never heard anything from you. Not when I turned eighteen, not when I graduated... nothing." He snorted. "I've had a lot of reasons to hate my birthday, and I'm still not sure which is worse: you walking out on us on my fifth or the stalkling that almost killed me on my sixteenth." James winced.
"You have every right and reason to be mad at me, Jim. But my reasons are the same as when I first left. I didn't want to put you in danger. And now, you and I are after very different goals." He shook his head. "Such is the nature of war, son." Jim grimaced and stood up quickly, and he pulled his wallet from his pocket and placed a few bills on the table.
"For my share," he said glumly. "I'm going home. Maybe I'll see you again." He turned and pulled his backpack on.
"Good luck, Jim," James bade. "Thank you for seeing me today." Jim said nothing and started off, but not before his father could say one more thing. "I love you, son." It was enough to make him stop for a moment, but he didn't reply and started off again.
He turned over the past twenty-four hours in his head over and over as he made his way to the Trolls' tunnel. He wasn't sure how he felt about it all. Angry, certainly. Betrayed, maybe. Worried for how his mother was going to handle this... yes, that was the most prominent. How was he going to tell her?
As he came to the tunnel, he slowed down as he thought over the previous night. James had been avid about getting him out of the museum, and today he had mentioned something about the Changelings having some kind of interest in it.
Maybe he would stick around one more night.