Disclaimer: Don't own Trollhunters or any of its characters.
Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and subscribes! I'm happy so many people are enjoying my fanfic. Big thanks to all my reviewers for motivating me and my beta readers Ash and Charlie for helping me with my writing. Hope you enjoy this new chapter.
Becoming: Part 2 (III)
Toby circled around on his bike, making figure eights along the road. If Atlas were of clearer mind, he would be annoyed; as it was, the teen barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before, his mind preoccupied with worry.
Atlas adjusted the collar of the mascot uniform. Damn, it was itchy. "Would you stop that?"
Like clockwork, the moment the sun hit the house his armor vanished. He hid in Toby's bathroom during the process, not wanting to freak out the boy as his body rearranged itself. Bones and muscles grinding against each other didn't make very pleasant sounds. To his relief, the pain was not so bad this time. He was becoming used to the Amulet, or the Amulet was becoming used to him. It was hard to say.
Toby did as he asked. "You didn't need to follow me to school, you know."
"I'm not following you," Atlas remarked. "I simply needed to return the mole costume. Besides, there's something I need to do there."
He gulped. Stricklander's texts haunted him. How was he going to explain? Atlas was walking into the lion's den. He only hoped he could leave in one piece.
"So," Toby glided to his side. "What do you know about this Trollmarket place?"
"It's the largest community of Trolls this side of the Atlantic. I've only heard stories however."
"Oh, stories, huh? From who?"
"My mentor mostly. Changelings aren't allowed though. We'll be killed immediately."
"Ouch, that sucks." Toby winced.
"Which is why," he began, "I'm a bit skeptical about what those Trollmarket Trolls from yesterday said. What if it's a trap?"
"I don't know, that Blinky-guy didn't seem so bad. Aaarrrgghh! was nice too. I think they just want to help, you know?"
"Maybe you're right, Tobes." Atlas said, earning a smile from the other teen. "But in my line of work, you can never be too careful."
The school approached in the distance. They'd arrived early, long before most students to avoid any suspicion. It was eerily silent; their footsteps loud against the paved path.
"Man, this place is creepy without any students around." Toby mentioned.
"Be quiet," Atlas said, scanning the area for any humans. "You can't draw too much attention. Where's the locker-room again?"
"There's an emergency exit near the front. Probably locked right now though."
Atlas sighed, "then we'll have to get inside."
"Oh! Coach Lawrence always leaves the windows slightly open in the gym cause the air conditioner is broken. The Gym's near the locker-rooms too."
After locking up Toby's bicycle at the rack, the two teens traveled around the building to the gymnasium. Atlas pushed at the windows, but they wouldn't open.
"Damn, maybe we should try another way."
"Toby, I can't see in this outfit. Tell me, is there anyone in there?"
The shorter boy plastered his face to the glass, nose smashed against it. Moments later, he pulled back, shaking his head. "Nope. Why do you ask?"
Atlas thrust his fist into the same window.
"I thought you said not to draw too much attention?" Toby exclaimed.
"You can't; I never said anything about me." He tip-toed over the broken glass.
"Oh, that is so unfair, dude." Toby grumbled, following Atlas to the doors connecting the gym to the rest of the school.
Looking through the windows, Toby pushed the doors open with his back.
"What's unfair about it?"
"Why me and not you?" Toby stopped walking down the hallway, stepping in front of Atlas. "Atlas…am I really your friend?"
"That's an unusual question to ask."
"It's just…" Toby scratched his cheek. "You don't even remember me. And you just come out of nowhere as this entirely cool and awesome warrior guy and suddenly all this crazy stuff is happening and I'm…I'm not sure what you even think of me, you know? I mean, I knew the old you since Kindergarten, but you've only known me for a day and I just…Sorry, I've been thinking a lot since yesterday."
Atlas looked around, then took off the Mole head, breathing in and out. Wearing the mascot uniform was uncomfortable enough, but with his armor on? Freaking brutal.
"Human, you are strange and loud."
"Gee, thanks," he muttered.
"But you are also very kind and understanding. You dropped everything to help me. You treat me like an equal. You housed me and introduced me to tacos, free of charge." Atlas said, the edges of his mouth turning up . "So yes, I suppose so. You'll have to patient with me however. I know nothing about human friendships, or friendships in general, honestly."
Toby began to smile, but suddenly frowned at his last words. "You don't have any friends in your super-secret club?"
"It's not a—" He shook his head. Presenting to two fingers, he said, "I've got two you could say, but both of them are significantly older than me and order me around all the time."
Toby nudged him in the side affectionately. "Well, now you've got three, dude."
With no further delay, they turned the corner to the boy's locker-room. Inside, the faint odor of men's socks and wet towels stank the area.
Atlas quickly zipped off the rest of the costume, sitting down on the bench immediately after. Thank the Lady he'd never have to wear that thing again.
"You sure you won't get in trouble for stealing this?" Atlas asked.
Toby puffed out his chest, a smug smile on his lips. "Dude, I know this school like the back of my hand. No one will know it was even missing. And even if they did, they'll never think it was me. I'll be in and out like a ninja." He smiled wider, "Besides, I'm doing this for my friend."
It took the shorter boy a few moments to gather the mole costume from the floor. Once he did, he walked out of the room cheerily, a slight pip in his step.
A second after he'd left, Atlas' face dropped, ears lowering as his fears caught up with him.
This is insane, he told himself, I'm insane. Atlas pulled his right knee up onto the chair, arms tight around it. His forehead rested against his kneecap.
He couldn't believe he was even considering this whole Trollhunter business. A Changeling Trollhunter? And a half-breed at that. Merlin must have been off his rocker if he thought Atlas could beat Bular, much less Gunmar himself.
And what was he going to tell Stricklander? The Changeling had dedicated his life to his kind and the king of the Gumm-Gumms. Even if he considered Atlas as…his son, he would cut the boy down if Gunmar or the Lady commanded it.
The Janus Order was a cutthroat place. Disobedience was punished, severely.
A comforting hand brushed his back. "You gonna be okay, dude?"
"That was fast."
"Forgot my backpack. Is everything alright? You look pale."
"I'm fine," he lied. "You go on to class. I'll meet up with you here later."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
If I live through this, he inwardly added.
Adjusting his cloak, he climbed up the pipes of the locker-room, hands searching for a loose tile. Finding it, he removed the piece and lifted himself into the interior, bringing the tile back in place as he did.
A network of wiring and metal greeted him. He crawled through the sub-space. Ugh. His heightened smell caught the scent of rat feces and mold. He covered his nose and journeyed on.
Thankfully, the lights in Stricklander's office were off, casting the room in darkness.
A good sign.
Inch by inch, Atlas lowered himself down the ceiling, careful to not make a sound. If he was lucky, the man was at his human home or at the Order, perhaps finishing up his last cup of coffee before he made for the high school.
His feet barely touched the ground when he heard it.
Click.
"Young Atlas," a figure in darkness stirred from behind, "what a pleasant surprise."
Atlas turned around, palms sweating. His knees felt as weak as a newborn calf while his arms seemed to weigh down the rest of his body like boulders.
Shoot, he thought, as electricity ran down his spine, a sign of the Amulet's stirrings. He hadn't even said the words and the damn thing was starting to activate. Control yourself!
He pulled his phone out, avoiding the man's glowing red gaze. "Wow, look what I found! Gee, I'm really happy I stole it back from that human named Jim. All's well that ends well."
Stricklander stood, the yellow sclera of his eyes all the more menacing. "Atlas."
The teen backed away, bumping into one of his mentor's bookcases. This was it. He'd probably figured out Atlas was the Trollhunter and was going to kill him. "I can explain. I—"
A hand flashed in his line of vision, grasping the back of his head. Immediately, the teen's head snapped forward from the man's strength. His face was mushed against his mentor's collarbone. Another hand wrapped around his back, pulling him even closer.
Atlas looked up in surprise.
There was anger in the man's eyes, but other emotions too, he noted, sadness, fear and…regret, maybe?
"Where on earth were you?" Stricklander growled, his true voice breaking free from the normal smooth tone he typically emitted. "What if you had been caught by the humans?"
"I got caught up with the amulet stuff." He admitted. Hesitantly, Atlas touched the man's shoulder. "It's okay, dad."
Immediately, Stricklander pulled away, his eyes scanning the area. "Atlas, I am your mentor, not—"
"I heard what you said, to Jim." Atlas said, hands tucked underneath his armpits. "You called me your son. Is that how you see me?"
Stricklander searched his eyes. "You were there?"
"I was watching," Atlas fibbed.
His heartbeat slowed. A feeling of relief and sadness filled him. His mentor didn't know he was the Trollhunter. Yet.
Stricklander paused on the middle of the floor, arms behind his back. "Whether or not I think of you as my son or not, you're still in trouble, young one."
"I know," he said, hands fiddling with the hem of his cloak, avoiding the cold metal amulet in his pocket. "Allow me to report. Please."
The Changeling returned to his desk, a cold calculating mask in place. He crossed his legs, pen bouncing against his foot as he waited.
Taking a deep breath, Atlas approached. Back straight and hands behind his back, he began, "I was caught up by the Trollhunter."
Stricklander stopped bouncing his pen. "The Trollhunter? The amulet has already chosen? So soon?"
He bit the inside of his cheek, then nodded.
"What of the human who originally had it? What happened to him?"
"Lost it, from what I could tell." He shrugged. "Probably thought it was a toy of some sort. I don't think it really matters."
"What does the new Trollhunter look like?"
"Hard to say," he lied again, stomach twisting with every passing moment. "I didn't get a good look at him. He noticed my presence immediately, so I had to leave."
"Him? A male Troll then? Interesting."
Shit, Atlas inwardly cursed. I should have been more vague.
"I don't know what species or gender the Trollhunter was. It could be anyone," the boy amended.
"Species?" Stricklander squinted. "You think the new Trollhunter isn't a Troll?"
"I mean, it's possible." He began to backtrack. "But most likely, it's a Troll, right? I mean, come on. Could you imagine a human Trollhunter? Ha. Ridiculous."
"A human Trollhunter would be rather unusual." His mentor said, scanning the boy. "Though not outside the realm of possibility."
"Pft, ha, ha. As if." Atlas laughed nervously.
The glow of his mentor's eyes returned, the anger beneath his carefully crafted mask appearing once again. "This, you understand, does not get you out of your punishment."
Oh, come on, Atlas thought, though he did not voice it. He liked his head on his shoulders thank you very much.
"It's not like I had any choice in the matter. I lost my phone. What was I supposed to do? I would have revealed my position." The teen tried to explain. " Is this because I couldn't get the amulet?"
"The amulet?" The man shook his head, "No! Forget the amulet for a second, child and listen to me. Your reckless behavior has put not only yourself in danger, but the rest of our Order as well. Staying out past your curfew, not once, but twice I might add, and refusing to obey my orders to return home, the list goes on," Stricklander sighed. "Atlas, I'm disappointed in you."
He stammered, "Sir, I'm sorry, I'll do better, I—"
"Which is why I'm restricting your privileges, effective today."
Atlas froze, slack-jawed. What was he, some sort of child?
"But sir—"
"No more daylight time. You'll be regulated to Order controlled areas only. I also want you to update me on your coordinates daily." He counted off on his fingers. "You'll be taking on feeding the Goblins and cleaning after them, scrubbing down the restrooms at the main branch, and whatever else I decide to appoint you to do, understood?"
"But—"
"Understood?" The man repeated sternly.
Completely unfair. The boy grumbled meaningless words, shaking his head. "Understood, sir."
"It's for your own good and ours, young Atlas." Stricklander said in a softer tone. "I have given you too much leeway. The others are already suspicious of our relationship. You must understand, as the leader of our kind, I cannot show weakness."
"I know, sir."
"After all, they already know you are my favorite."
"I'm your favorite?" The boy perked up, eyes wider. "Really?"
"Atlas, I consider you like a son to me," Stricklander said warmly. "Of all the Changelings in our organization, I trust you the most."
Atlas smiled, switching his gaze to the window. "I-you trust me that much? Really?"
"Therefore, I would suggest you use this time as a learning opportunity and, perhaps, a time to sleep. You look absolutely knackered."
He did understand, but that didn't make it any better. The man was right about exhaustion though.
"Couldn't sleep," he yawned. "I've had a lot on my mind."
"Then sleep here for today. I've a small cot in the other room." He got up and walked to his secret passageway, Atlas following close behind.
Atlas rubbed his eyes. "I'm not tired."
Once opened, his mentor guided him inside the room. Though Atlas was familiar with the place, it never stopped to catch his interest. Most times he entered the place there was something new and eye-catching, be it a glowing ominous crystal from the East or an ancient Troll battle-axe. Today, however, was not that day. Just boring old books it appeared.
"Can you take off your armor or would you like me to help?" His mentor offered.
"I'm not a little kid anymore, dad." He retorted, emphasizing the last word sarcastically.
Unbuckling his armor bracers, Atlas let them slide to the floor, too exhausted to care. Soon, the rest of his armor littered the ground, picked up and set to the side by a soft chuckling Stricklander.
"Really now? Could have fooled me." The man glanced at his watch and frowned. "Atlas, you've done enough for today. I'll alert the Order of the current situation."
He yawned again, "Can I still continue looking for the amulet?"
"You should take care of yourself, first and foremost, child. Worry about the amulet later."
"You make it sound so easy." Atlas said, hand slipping into his pocket. "Stricklander, sir, can I ask a question?"
Stricklander paused at the doorway, his human mask back on. "Just one, class starts soon."
"What are you gonna do when you find the next Trollhunter?"
"Get rid of him and take the amulet of course."
Atlas put on a thin smile, fingers biting into the freezing metal of the device. "Of course."
"Inject the specimen with 200 ml of the solution. Alert me if there are any changes in its condition."
"Dr. Mordred, is this procedure really necessary?"
"Are you questioning my methods, Dr. Ywain?"
"It's just…Why all this when he hasn't changed?"
"He will change. It is inevitable."
"Still, we're what? On the seventh test? Eighth? The rest of the creatures transformed by the fourth test at most. Are you certain we have the right person?"
"Dr. Ywain, you are letting your human empathy get to you. What you see before you is not a human child. Though its appearance and reactions seem human, they are merely imitations of the real thing. Besides, the younger ones are always the hardest to crack. You'll see."
"If you say so, sir."
"Sir, its vitals are dropping."
"It's flatlining."
"Someone get the defibrillator!"
"Clear!"
Atlas jolted awake.
Air. He needed air. The boy gasped, taking in as much oxygen as he could bear.
Cold sweat drenched his backside. Fingers twitched, his nails digging into the fabric of his cloak-turned-makeshift-blanket. His heart pounded into his ears. The taste of copper blossomed in his mouth; he'd bitten his tongue while sleeping.
He couldn't stop gasping, the need for air turning into hyperventilation.
Damn it, he cursed inwardly. Quickly, Atlas brought his knees up to his face and began to rock, once, twice, thrice—until he lost count, trying to bring down himself back to reality.
A jolt of electricity ran through his arms. The amulet began to hum, reacting to his distress.
Not now, he pleaded. He hadn't even said the incantation.
That had been the worst nightmare to date, he realized. Most of the time it was only flashes, soon to be forgotten once he arose to the waking world.
This one was different.
It was too vivid to simply be his imagination, Atlas reasoned, so it must be a memory. He would have to speak with Stricklander about this.
Yeah, the more sarcastic part of his mind added, just like you'll tell him about your new gig as the Trollhunter.
Crap.
A loud bell resonated through the building, breaking him out of his thoughts.
Merlin's artifact continued to tremble inside his pocket, shining so brightly one could see it through his clothes. His skin tingled; the amulet was right at the cusp of no return. He needed to relax.
Deep breathes, in and out, just as his mentor taught him. He counted to ten, feeling the stress in his body release. The amulet still glowed, though not as brightly as before.
His promise to meet with Toby was fast approaching. Atlas stretched his arms, his back protesting at the movement.
Right as he was about to leave through the secret room's exit, he paused.
Why had he lied to Stricklander? The man was his mentor and—sort of dad, if he really wanted to go into it.
His fingers found themselves grasping the amulet possessively.
The device was proving to be more and more difficult to give up, that's why. Not only had it given him a human form, but he'd gotten his identity back—he had a mom! He had a family that was looking for him!
If he gave up the amulet now, he might lose all that. Jim's mom wouldn't accept him like this.
Could he tell Nomura? Would she help him?
Maybe help me into an early grave, he joked morbidly.
No. This was too big of a secret to keep, he realized mournfully. Though absolutely terrified of the thought of telling Stricklander, he was the only one Atlas trusted. And Stricklander trusted him. If he could simply convince the man, then maybe there was a chance Atlas could keep both the amulet and his life.
Mind made up, Atlas walked out into the main office, going to his father's desk.
Clicking one of the man's ornate pen's, he wrote a note, which read: 'need to talk with you later. Something big happened. Be back soon. It's about the amulet. – Atlas.'
The boy stood up straighter, placing the pen back in the cup holder. Atlas could practically feel the tension in his body lessening. It was as if his guilt was washing away. Stricklander was right, he needed to do what was best for himself. Atlas was certain Blinky and Aaarrrgghh! would disapprove of his methods, but Atlas wasn't a Troll.
He was a Changeling.
And Changelings had each other's backs.
Well, sometimes.
Two knocks struck the door. The knob turned.
"Mr. Strickler, are you in there?"
Atlas' heart leaped into his throat. The amulet began to burn against the inner folds of his clothes. Seriously?
He could feel it floating out from his pocket.
Crap, crap, crap, he chanted inside his head.
Immediately, he slammed the door close, remarking, "He's not here."
The door continued to jiggle. "Hey, look, I need to turn in one of my assignments. It will only take a moment."
"Wait, just—" he couldn't finish.
His skin sizzled with magic, Merlin's power embracing his body. In a flash of light, he was the human Trollhunter.
Again.
Was this how it was always gonna be?
"Uh, is everything okay in there?"
Maybe this could work. Thinking on his feet, he opened the door a smidge, hand out. "I'll put it on his desk for you then."
He caught sight of the person beyond the door.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl.
Well, at least for Atlas it did.
The brilliant streak of blue was what first caught his attention, striking against the dark neat lay of the human girl's hair. Her lips were full and red. Was that her natural color or lipstick? Her purple and pink ensemble highlighted her petite frame. Chocolate eyes scrutinized him so deeply he thought she was staring directly into his soul.
"Gorgeous," he said, then covered his mouth.
"Excuse me?" She asked with a cute, bewildered smile.
"Sorry, uh," he stuck his head out the door, looking both ways before opening the door wider for the girl. "Gorgeous day we're having, right? Man, it's a shame it's a human school day."
She raised an eyebrow, brushing him aside as she entered. "Yeah, I guess it is. What are you doing in Mr. Strickler's office?"
"Oh, um. It's about…" He looked around, eyes landing on one of the books on the man's desk. "History. History class."
"Oh? Which class are you in? I've never seen you around before." The girl said as she placed the paper on the teacher's desk.
"I'm, ah, new. Here. New student. Yeah. Just transferred in."
"Cool." She smiled again, thrusting her hand out. "I'm Claire, by the way."
Atlas stared at the hand, cocking his head to the side. "What are you doing?"
She threw him a perplexed look, hand falling. "It's a handshake. You know, a greeting? You do know what a handshake is, right?"
"But handshakes are for negotiations and agreements," Atlas said. "Are we exchanging something?"
"You're…not from around here, are you?"
Shoot, how had she caught onto him? Atlas began to stutter, "W-well—"
"I've been looking all over for you, dude!" Toby yelled from across the hall. "I thought we were going to meet up in the locker-room? What are you doing in Mr. Strickler's office?"
"Toby, you know this guy?"
Toby skidded to a halt, eyes wide. "Oh, yeah, that's, ah, Jim. Jimbo!"
Atlas nodded, adding, "Yes. James Lake. Jim. Whichever you prefer."
The girl drew closer, examining his face. "Like the kid who disappeared five years ago? That Jim?"
"Oh, ha, ha. No way," Toby said, laughing nervously. "Complete coincidence, right Jim?"
"Right," Atlas added.
"Jim's my, ah," Toby paused, then answered, "Penpal?"
"Penpal?" Atlas pursed his lips together, nose scrunched in confusion.
Toby stuck his finger up in the air as if he had just discovered something. "From Canada. French Canada!"
"Ah, oui." Atlas caught on, then in a moment of pure genius (or stupidity, depending on who you asked), picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. "Comment allez-vous, mademoiselle?"
"You speak French?" Claire asked, intrigued.
Toby exclaimed excitedly, "Dude, how many languages do you know?"
Admittedly, his French was merde, but they didn't need to know that. "Not a lot. My dad knows, like, a thousand. Literally."
Claire's expression brightened, her smile even more genuine. Atlas felt like he was melting.
"Cool. Not a whole lot of bilingual kids around here. And loving the armor by the way. So realistic. Oh, that reminds me! Do you like Shakespeare?"
"Ah, I guess? Why do you—"
Claire presented a poster to him. "You should try out today. We're kind of having trouble getting boys to audition. It could be a really great way for you to meet other students!" Her phone buzzed. "Whoops! Looks like we're about to set up the stage. We're doing tryouts right now. You should come. Your armor would be a total hit with everyone!"
"Uh," Atlas responded, words failing him.
"Oh, yeah, we'll definitely think about it." Toby grasped onto the taller boy's arm, pulling him down the opposite end of the hall. "Just got some errands to run. Bye Claire!"
It didn't take long for the two to reach their destination. Atlas practically crashed through the locker-room doors, slamming into one of the tall lockers.
"My heart is about to explode out of my chest." Atlas wheezed, metal-clad fingers clawing at his breast. "What's happening to me? Even thinking about her makes me feel all tongue-tied and weird."
"Aw, man," Toby tutted. "First crush, huh? We've all been there, dude."
"Crush? I'm being crushed?" Atlas began to panic. "Is it serious? Can I die from this?"
"Nah. It just means you like-like her, dude. At worst, you'll just experience crippling disappointment and self-esteem issues."
"Mr. Domzalski," Stricklander's voice echoed through the vicinity, sending shivers of fear down Atlas' spine. "Are you in here?"
His footsteps drew closer. No, no, no, Atlas thought. This cannot be happening. Not now!
"Distract him." Atlas whispered.
Toby rounded the corner of wall of lockers, saying, "Ah, a little busy over here, Mr. Strickler. Could you wait a sec—"
Too late.
The Changeling's gaze bore into him directly. A moment of surprise flashed across the man's features but it was quickly schooled back under his human mask. Stricklander looked at him like he looked at all the humans.
Because he didn't recognize Atlas.
Well, of course not, why would he? In Stricklander's world, Atlas could not transform. It was an impossible thing.
Just as a human Trollhunter was.
And as long as Atlas continued with that lie, he concluded, then so too would the man's belief.
There was no going back after this.
He either told the man now or completely betrayed the Changeling's trust forever.
Atlas shivered under his mentor's cold calculating stare. So, this was what it felt like on the other side.
Stricklander—no, this was Mr. Strickler now, Atlas told himself—fished out his all too familiar pen, balancing it on top of his two index fingers. Though his demeanor appeared friendly, Atlas knew that the moment Toby left the room that the Troll would jump him.
"I don't believe we've met, Mr.—"
Atlas began to open his mouth, but Toby answered before him.
"Jim, sir." Toby added, "he's new. Just got here yesterday. Transfer student."
"Really? Welcome to Arcadia Oaks High." Mr. Strickler gestured at his armor. "Now, Jim, I don't mean to sound rude, but I don't think this is appropriate school attire, do you?"
A pang of fear ran through his veins. What if he didn't listen to Atlas and took away the Amulet anyway?
No, this was dad, he tried to reason with himself. He'd listen to me. Right?
"I, sir, I," he stammered, trying to force out the words. His throat closed.
He wanted to say, I'm not Jim. I'm Atlas. Atlas. But nothing came out.
"It's for Romeo and Juliet! The tryouts are today." Toby interjected. "Jim's really good at acting."
The shorter boy tapped his knuckles against the metal breast plate. "Real dedicated to authenticity and stuff. Made it himself."
Stricklander bounced his pen atop his palm, his pleasant smile not reaching his eyes. "Oh, really? You better hurry, Jim. The auditions end in five minutes."
And just like that, his chance was gone.
Crud.
