Rating: M | Multi-Chapter | Paced Publishing

➳ Hello, my loves! This chapter was actually much longer, but I cut it in half, so most of the next chapter is already written and should be up sooner than usual! Enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"Dude, are you okay?" Toby asked for umpteenth time that day, eyeing Jim as if he were emotionally unstable and about to either blow his top or burst into tears any second. "Don't tell me Morgana got into your head now?"

"Ugh, don't mention that witch's name to me," Claire groused, slinging her backpack higher up her shoulder. Her cheeks were still pale from her struggle against Morgana's control of her only the night before, the shadows under her eyes not quite as deep as they had been in the past few weeks. "If I ever get my hands on her, I'll—"

"Maybe you should work on recovering first," Toby chuckled, elbowing Claire lightly. "You're not gonna get your hands on anyone until you're feeling better, and you've got your new magic tricks under control."

Jim remained silent, following along behind his best friend and wife — girlfriend, Jim reminded himself with a painful clenching of his heart — as they made their way to gym class.

"Jim, really," Claire said after a few more seconds of tense silence. She paused right before the gymnasium doors, giving Toby a pointed look and nodding her head inward. The short and chubby boy took the hint and gave Jim a slight smile before rushing inside, leaving the couple alone. Claire raised her hand to cup Jim's cheek, and he nearly sobbed at the touch, his memory so vivid in what more that touch could do and what it meant. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"I…" Jim's voice was rough with emotion as he spoke, and he lifted his hand to cover hers on his face. "I think I'm losing my mind."

"Did Morgana get to you?" Claire asked, half laughing, but with a concerned look on her face as her eyes roved his anguished expression.

"No, I…" Jim closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. "This… this has to be a dream — a nightmare."

"Well, I'm not a fan of gym class, either, but that hardly makes it a nightmare," Claire laughed, brushing her thumb along his cheek. "Especially in comparison to Gunmar and Morgana."

"No," Jim gasped again, not surprised to blink and feel warm wetness spill over. "This… we've already done this. I've already lived this."

"What do you mean?" Claire frowned, brushing the tear away, her expression unreadable. He hated not being able to feel the presence of her soul within his — but that had been a dream, right? An incredibly vivid dream, but a dream all the same. Or this was the dream… but that couldn't be right, either; even in sleep, he would be able to feel her soul mixing with his. Now, he felt nothing from her.

"Nothing," Jim said, shaking his head, laughing even as more tears slipped free. "I guess… it's nothing. I just… I had a really vivid dream. I guess I didn't want to wake up."

"That good, huh?" Claire laughed, raising an eyebrow teasingly. "Some of your porn mag girls involved?"

Jim snorted a watery laugh, rolling his eyes. "Hardly. The only person I dream about like that is y— wait…" he frowned, eyeing Claire's laughing smile skeptically. "How did you know about my porn mags?"

"I found them, remember?" Claire replied, shrugging. "When I was looking for shorts to borrow?"

Jim shook his head, blinking dazedly. "But that was—"

Riiiiiiiing.

"Gah!" Claire gasped, jumping and grimacing as the late bell went off right above them. Dropping her hand from his face, Claire made a face and grabbed his hand, tugging him after her through the gymnasium doors. "C'mon! Coach Lawrence will kill us, if we're any later!"

"No offense, but I think Gunmar is scarier than Coach," Jim chuckled, allowing Claire to tug him along behind her. They separated at the locker rooms, Claire disappearing into the Girls' room, while he turned to the boys' room.

"Dude!"

Jim cringed as Steve slung his arm around his shoulders and punched his arm just as he opened his locker in search of his gym clothes. Jim really wasn't in the mood to engage Steve, but he had no choice when the other teen reached up and pinched his cheek playfully. "Ow! What the fuck are you—"

"Wa-hoe!" Steve laughed, pinching Jim's cheek tighter and giving it a shake. "Well, I was gonna call you out on the waterworks, but I think you just manned up by uttering that awesome cuss word without even so much as a blush!"

"I'm not in the mood, Steve," Jim growled (without the actual growl, pissing him off even more), shrugging Steve away roughly.

"No prob," Steve nodded, brushing off Jim's rudeness with a dismissive wave of his hand, but still hanging across his shoulders. "I just had a question — you went to that new restaurant with Claire the other night, right? Any good?"

"What are you talking about?" Jim asked in a flat voice, rolling his eyes as he realized that Steve wasn't going to let him go without an answer.

"Dude, Darci's been telling Mary, who's been telling Aja, who's been telling me," Steve started to explain in a convoluted way. "…that she and Toby went on a double date with you and Claire the other night. To that new restaurant on Main Street? She said Claire wasn't feeling well, and you guys had to call the date short, but how was the restaurant?"

"I…" Jim started, fully intending to answer Steve's question, but then coming up short. "I… I, uh… I don't remember."

"Really?" Steve asked, leaning back and raising an eyebrow. He gave Jim a skeptical once over and then grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Claire give you such a good dessert that you can't remember dinner?"

"She was sick, Steve," Jim said, rolling his eyes and slipping out from underneath the other boy's arm. "Ask Toby, if you don't believe me."

"Ah, c'mon, man!" Steve laughed, leaning back against the row of lockers, his arms crossed over his bare chest. "You're so boring! Didn't you take her home? And you didn't do anything?"

Jim glanced around them, but he and Steve were fairly alone, only Eli and Toby chatting quietly on the other side of the room. "Trollhunter business interfered."

"Really?" Steve said, his expression dropping in disappointment. "You know, this job of yours is always interrupting the good stuff. Maybe you should consider a career change."

Jim couldn't help but laugh at that, pulling his gym shirt over his head. "I'm afraid it's a 'until death do we part' kind of job."

"Ew," Steve scrunched up his nose in disgust. "So, you gotta keep fighting your whole life?"

"Not if there's peace," Jim shrugged, stuffing his day clothes into the locker. "Then we can all live happily ever after."

"Right," Steve replied, grabbing his own shirt from where it had been slung over the bench between the rows of lockers. "Anyway, guess I can't rely on you for dating advice for a while."

"Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay," Steve said, waving his hand dismissively again. "I'll just ask Aja what she likes. For all I know, she might not even like human food."

"Maybe not," Jim hummed quietly, shutting the locker door and moving back toward the exit. He heard Steve fall into step behind him, and then what the other teen said caught up to him, and he turned around abruptly, Steve almost barreling him over before he could stop. "Why wouldn't she like human food?"

"Huh?" Steve asked, giving Jim another once-over, this one full of confusion. "Well, you know… maybe interplanetary beings prefer weird things, like… literal mud pies, or something like that." His expression turned thoughtful. "Maybe I'll ask her what her favorite stuff was on Akiridion-5, and then try to find an Earth equivalent."

"You shouldn't be giving out her secret like this," Jim warned, glaring Steve down harshly, a surge of protectiveness welling up in him. "I thought you cared about her?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Of course, I do — but you already knew her secret."

"I did?" Jim asked, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his head in thought. "No, you… you're right, I… I did know. When did I—?"

"Lake, Palchuk!" Coach's voice shouted from just beyond the locker room doors. "We're all out here, waiting on you, so get your butts in gear!"

. . .

"Master Jim, you are unusually distracted tonight."

"Sorry, Blink," Jim cringed, only half paying attention to their surroundings as they made the nightly rounds on the displaced trolls. They were coming up on Cor and Norie's little alleyway that they had claimed for themselves, pallets and tarps thrown together haphazardly to create the appearance of random junk, but actually providing a safe shelter for the pair and their baby. "I'm… I don't know."

"Hm…" Blinky hummed thoughtfully, falling back a step to keep pace with Jim. Placing one of his upper hands on Jim's shoulder, he gave a light squeeze. "Claire's recent confrontation with Morgana has you more frazzled than you're willing to admit, yes?"

"I…" Jim sighed, running his hand through his hair distractedly, shaking his head. "No, that's not it. I just… have you ever had a dream that was so real that you doubt whether reality is real?"

Blinky's eyes winked out of sync as he stared down at Jim, his expression thoughtful as he contemplated what Jim had asked. "Well, I dream for peace—"

"I don't mean metaphorically," Jim laughed lightly, reaching up to cover Blinky's hand on his shoulder, patting it reassuringly. "I mean a literal dream."

"Ah," Blinky said, crossing his bottom two arms over his stomach in thought, the rhythmic tapping of his staff a sort of soothing background noise. "I can't say that I have ever experienced such a thing, my boy. Have you?"

Jim nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground as they walked. "Yes… but I can't tell which is the dream and which is reality."

"Because they both feel real?" Blinky surmised in a quiet and gentle voice.

Jim nodded again, and then froze as the sound of an infant crying rose up from the alley before them. His heart seized in panic, and before he could stop himself, he was rushing forward passed the hanging tarp, his Amulet glowing brightly in his palm, ready to summon his armor and weapon at a moment's notice.

"Ellie!"

"Trollhunter?!" Cor gasped, his hands stopping an inch away from grabbing Jim by his throat and tearing him to pieces. The snarl on the huge troll's face melted as Blinky rushed in behind Jim, breathless with shock.

"What in Deya's name—"

"I…" Jim breathed, staring at a confused Norie in shock as she rocked her crying baby in her arms. "I heard the baby, and I thought…"

"Understandable," Cor nodded, visibly relaxing and offering Jim a reluctant grin of apology. "S'pose we've all got reason to be on edge these days. It's nice to know our Trollhunter will come to our defense, even if just from the terrors of a hungry babe."

"I'm sorry," Jim mumbled, his face heating in embarrassment. "I'm not… I didn't mean to just barge in. I… I guess I really am on edge."

"Were you looking for someone?" Norie asked, shifting the baby in her arms, so the child could nurse. Though trolls didn't really have any sense of body modesty, Jim still averted his eyes out of respect — plus, Cor was likely to really rip him to pieces, if he stared too much.

"We were just conducting our nightly security checks," Blinky said reassuringly, laughing a little as he ruffled Jim's hair. "We can't be too careful nowadays."

"You called for someone named 'Ellie'…" Norie went on, her eyes boring intensely into Jim's as he looked up at her in shock. "Are you looking for her?"

"No…" Jim sighed, blinking back tears for the thousandth time that day. "It was… just a dream that I had."

"Best not let your mate hear you sayin' another woman's name," Cor teased, and Jim grinned weakly, though his heart ached at the word 'mate.'

"No," Jim agreed with a small, sad laugh. "She wouldn't have to worry about this one."

A cat screeching in the alleyway behind them had Jim back on edge, jumping and spinning around, pressing his Amulet nervously to his chest. Before he could really relax, Blinky placed his hand back on Jim's shoulder, and he flinched at the contact.

"My boy, perhaps you should head home for the night," Blinky advised, giving Jim a calculating once over. "Get some proper sleep. All is well here, for the time being. I will call you should an issue arise."

"No, the checks—" Jim started, shaking his head, but Blinky squeezed his shoulder lightly.

"It's all right," Blinky assured him, and then he threw a smirk at Cor. "I'll conscript Cor here to help me finish our rounds. It should only take a couple of hours."

Cor glared at Blinky, and then rolled his eyes playfully and nodded. "Go on, Trollhunter. You don't want to see me hunt down that cat, anyway."

Jim cringed, frowning. "What if it has a collar?"

Cor laughed loudly, slapping a huge hand down on Jim's shoulder, causing his knees to buckle slightly. "You humans… don't worry, Trollhunter. I've been watchin' that one for two days. Tomcat of the alley — no collar, no friends, mean as a Nyarlagroth, and only good for makin' more cats. Hm… maybe I should keep 'im around."

"Cor," Jim groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Your hunt will have to wait, my friend," Blinky said, giving Cor a firm look. The four armed troll turned back to Jim with a patient and kind smile. "Go on, my boy. Get some rest."

Jim sighed and nodded, and then he was moving, as if on autopilot. He gave a weak wave to the others and started to walk. He was aware of himself as far as the end of the alley, and then all he knew was the placement of one foot in front of the other. He didn't know how long he walked in the night, trying not to think, but when he stopped, he was not in front of his own house, but staring up at Claire's window from her front yard. The room was dark, save for a slight glow that he recognized as the light from her bedside table. He only hesitated a moment before his phone was pressed to his ear, and he could faintly hear her end ringing from inside the house before her voice picked up on his receiver.

"Hola, mi amor," Claire greeted with a smile in her voice. "Finished with rounds already?"

"I got sent home early," Jim laughed weakly, waving up at the window as Claire moved into view, smiling down at him. "Apparently, I was distracted."

"Well, you have been that," Claire said, grinning down at him as she opened her window and gestured for him to climb up.

Jim smiled, his heart lifting slightly as he pressed the end button on his phone and put it back into his pocket. In less than a minute, he'd scaled the porch supports and was on the roof, where he greeted his mate — girlfriend — with a chaste kiss. "But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?/It is the east, and Juliet is the sun… It is my lady. O, it is my love!"

"You skipped a few lines there, Romeo," Claire laughed, pulling away and grabbing his hand to pull him inside after her.

"I got the important bits," he replied, following after Claire as she led him to her bed and pushed him down to sit. She sat next to him, holding both his hands in each of hers. "How are you feeling?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Claire said, squeezing his hands lightly and tilting her head to catch his downward gaze. "You can talk to me, you know."

"I know," he nodded, his chest and throat tightening in emotion. "I just…" Jim trailed off, not really knowing what to say, nor really ready to talk either. Claire remained silent, waiting for him to speak again, but when he gave her a small shrug and a miserable half smile, she sighed and squeezed his hands again before letting go and standing to her feet. "Wait! I'm sorry, Claire, I just… I really don't know how to talk about it."

"It's okay," she replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. Straightening again, she smiled down at him, brushing a light hand through his hair. "Take your time."

With that, she turned and walked away across the room. Jim watched her, thinking and sorting through the mess in his head, as she stood in front of her mirror for a second, inspecting the white part of her hair as he knew she tended to do. For the most part, she ignored it, but Jim knew that she was self-conscious about it to an extent, especially since dye would not take to it. He couldn't remember if he'd ever told her that he loved it — at least not here, in reality — but that thought spiraled him into more grief and doubt, dragging him down to the point where his chest ached so bad that he was certain his imagined battle wounds were still there, just buried beneath the surface of his skin.

So distracted was he that he didn't notice, at first, when Claire started casually taking her clothes off, as if to undress in front of him was commonplace, and while Jim's imagination had certainly gone wild, he was positive that he had never seen her naked in reality. "Cl-Claire! What are you doing?!"

Claire blinked and caught his eye in the mirror, shrugging and finished pulling her shirt off over her head. "Getting undressed. Will you get my bra latch?"

Jim sputtered, his face heating in embarrassment at her aloofness, but gestured for her to come to him. She smiled and walked back to the bed, turning her back to allow him to sit up and reach for the latch in the middle of her back. As the material slackened, he averted his eyes to his lap, but then had to look away when he registered his own body's reaction, though he couldn't ignore the tight feeling in the pit of his stomach or the sensation of his body responding to hers. "Hurry and put your pajamas on."

"Why?" Claire responded, her voice innocently curious, as if the idea of being embarrassed or modest in front of him had never occurred to her. "I thought we could make love. So much has happened recently, I feel like it's been forever since we've been together, not just a few days."

"Wha…?" Jim looked up at her in embarrassed shock, his brain seizing in confusion. For a moment, his arousal was forgotten, even as he took in her topless figure. "Claire, we've never—"

"Haven't we?" she asked with teasing grin, and Jim tensed.

"Is Morgana still in your head?" he demanded, but he relaxed again when Claire's expression softened, and she smiled patiently down at him.

"How about this," she proposed, stepping back a few steps to discard her jeans. Mercifully, she left her panties on, and then she came forward again, pulling one leg up to halfway kneel on the bed by his side. "We lie down, and you just hold me, and you can tell me what's going on, hm?"

Jim thought about it, and then nodded slowly, hesitantly swallowing against the lump in his throat. He scooted back on the bed, so that he could lie himself down closest to the wall, and then he opened his arms to Claire, who slipped in beside him, pressing her body along his. Thankfully, she didn't squirm or move around too much except for a wiggle to make herself comfortable, and then they laid in silence for a few minutes, Jim gathering his thoughts together. Slowly, he began to speak, telling her of his long and vivid dream. He told her everything; every single detail, all the way from becoming a half troll and facing Gunmar and Morgana; right down to the most mundane things he could remember — the pictures he had on his phone, the magical knickknacks that they had on their shelves in their cave, the name of the baby boutique in Hoboken that she frequented to buy dresses for Ellie. And he told her of Ellie, their sweet baby, and the powers that she had, and the time travel that they had endured, and the children they would have, but hadn't yet, and oh, how he loved them, how badly he wished for their existence…

Everything.

When he was through speaking, a couple of hours had passed, and his voice had grown tired and hoarse. Throughout, Claire had remained wide awake, listening intently, never interrupting him to ask a question or argue a point. Jim, himself, felt worse than before. It was like he was desperately homesick, but for places and people whom he had really never met before.

"…impossible."

"Huh?" Jim mumbled, only half listening to Claire as she spoke into the silence.

"I said 'that's impossible,'" Claire replied in a soft voice, her lips brushing his chest above his shirt.

"I know," he said, his heart aching with the admittance. "I know it is, and that's why it hurts so—"

"No, Jim," Claire interrupted, cleaning back to look up at him seriously. "How can you be so deeply in love with imaginary people? It's impossible."

"I know," Jim repeated, angry and annoyed at her insistence. Couldn't she tell how badly he was taking this? "You don't have to—"

"Listen to what I'm saying," Claire interrupted again, a small smile on her face as she forced him to meet her gaze. "It's impossible to truly love someone who doesn't exist."

Jim frowned down at her, catching on to the fact that she was trying to convey something more meaningful with her words, but he was in too much pain to try and figure it out. "Claire, I know, okay? But I can't help it. The dream… it was so incredibly real."

"Are you so ready to disregard that life in favor of the illusion of safety?" Claire asked, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

"What…?" Jim frowned down at her, reaching up to cover her hand on his face. "I don't… you have no idea how much I want that life, but… it's not real. It was never real."

Claire smiled up at him, and then leaned back, despite his embarrassed protests as she exposed her body to him. "Look."

"Are you nuts?" Jim hissed, averting his eyes to the ceiling, his cheeks burning. "I—"

"Look at me," Claire repeated in a soft voice, leaning further back to display her body to him, brushing her thumb across his lips. "Look, Jim."

His face burning, Jim bit his lip and looked down, his eyes immediately going to Claire's breasts. He couldn't help but stare at them for a minute, caught up in the rush of hormonal arousal the sight awarded him, and so it didn't occur to him right away that he shouldn't have recognized the small, heart-shaped birthmark on the outer swell of her right breast, or the random patch of freckles on her ribs, just below her left breast. As his gaze slipped lower, Jim couldn't help the longing sigh that rose up in him as he looked over her stomach — mostly flat, except for a little bit of extra skin at the base of her belly — and then froze when his eyes landed on the thin and small incisional scar spanning her lower left side. Breathless, he dropped his trembling hand from hers on his face and trailed it down her body to press against the scar.

"This is the dream…" Jim breathed in realization, his eyes wide and heart pounding as he met Claire's smiling gaze.

"Magically induced, I suspect," she said, covering his hand with hers this time and giving it a light squeeze.

Something suddenly occurred to Jim, and he jerked his hand away from Claire, pressing his body back against the wall in horror. "You're not Claire."

She laughed lightly, the sound kind. "I am, actually… in a certain sense, anyway."

"I don't understand," Jim admitted with no small amount of embarrassment and a little fear. He kept his gaze locked on her face, horrified to think he was looking at and touching someone wearing his lover's face. "You… this is… this can't be the dream. Even sleeping, I would still be able to feel Claire's soul within me, and I… I don't feel anything."

"That's because I'm right here," she replied with a patiently understanding smile. "I am Claire; I'm the part of myself that is always with you. Something is preventing you from feeling me as you normally do, so I had to manifest in a different way to wake you up."

"But I'm not awake… am I?" Jim asked, his head beginning to ache with no small amount of confusion. "And… what do you mean? Like, what? You're Claire's… soul?"

"Yes," Claire beamed, leaning forward to press her lips in a quick, chaste peck against his lips. "And, no, you're not awake, but you are aware now. You've been sleeping in oblivion for… well, I don't know how long, but I couldn't reach you with my normal ease."

"Does my Claire know that you're doing this?" Jim asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Can she hear me?"

"I am your Claire," the girl lying next to him pouted, tilting her head up to lick his chin in a familiar motion that sent tendrils of aroused heat curling through his stomach. She buried herself back into his loose embrace as he relaxed again, unable to pretend that this so-called 'soul' was truly anything other than what and who she said she was. "My corporeal form is not aware of this conversation, per se, but she's been pouring herself into you, trying to bring you back. She can feel your response now, and it's giving her hope."

"I'm sorry," Jim mumbled, his throat tightening as he felt the slight tremble in Claire's arms, and he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, rubbing her bare back gently. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Then you should wake up."

"How?" he demanded, sighing in frustration as he raised his arm slightly to show off the series of bruises running up and down the limb. "I've been pinching myself all day and nothing. Tell me what to do." Jim cringed at the line, distantly recalling his shouting at Ywain, begging him to tell him how to save Eric's life. His heart ached at the unknown fate of his child, and he couldn't help the shiver that rushed up his spine.

"This… sleep, if you want to call it that," Claire started, pressing distractedly hot kisses along his throat as she spoke. "…is magically induced, I think. I told you before."

"Yes," Jim breathed, his eyes fluttering closed at the pleasure of her actions, even as he forced himself to pay attention to what she was saying. "But… my understanding of sleeping spells is that, once the person under the spell is aware of the magic, they can easily break themselves of it. Unless…"

"Unless?" Claire prompted, leaning back slightly to look up at him, and he opened his eyes to meet hers.

"I was… weak," he stated, frowning a little at the slight fog distorting his most recent memories. Now that he really thought of it, this day had skipped around, speeding up and slowing down, in only the way a dream could. It amazed him that he hadn't noticed before, but he had been deep in his own depression, and this world seemed so real, even now. He guessed that was all Claire's doing. In order to shock him into a state of awareness, she had to create a world and scenario that was so opposite of what he knew that it made him question the reality of both worlds. Still, the fog hazing through his mind — while slowly lifting — was not gone, and he struggled to recall the last events of reality in perfect remembrance. "I… I lost a lot of blood."

"Yes," Claire nodded, her expression unsurprised. She tilted her head up slightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Why?"

Jim cringed, closing his eyes in shame and agony, unable to look his mate's soul in the eyes. "Eric… was hurt. I… I had to use blood magic to try and…"

"Jim, why are you afraid?" Claire asked, her voice knowing and patient.

"I'm not—"

"You have your strength back," she interrupted, teasingly pressing her hips to his to emphasize her point. Jim sighed achingly, not being able to help but to gently grind against her in return. Claire laughed a little, pulling his head down to press her lips to his, her tongue licking his lips as she continued speaking. "You are aware that you are under a spell. You can break this easily. You are the only one holding yourself back. Now," she pulled back from him, forcing their gazes together again. "…what are you afraid of?"

"I…" Jim started, his heart lodging itself in his throat as he remembered his son's small, lifeless form lying in his arms, cold and not breathing. "I broke my promise."

"What promise?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her voice genuinely confused this time.

"I promised you that we wouldn't lose another," he replied, half sobbing as he clenched his eyes closed against the tears threatening to fall. He sucked in a shaky breath when he felt the fingers cupping his face gently stroke his cheekbones.

"And have we?"

"I don't know," Jim whispered back hoarsely, shaking his head. He opened his eyes again to look down at Claire's patient expression, nothing but love shining back at him. "He… he lost so much blood. The last thing that I remember is him going limp, and he had stopped breathing."

"And you nearly killed yourself trying to bring him back, mi amor," Claire said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his trembling bottom lip. "What makes you think your efforts weren't successful?"

"I…"

"Jim," Claire breathed, smiling sweetly at him as he let the tears fall, his guilt and anguish rising to the surface unbidden. "Do you know why we're here right now? Why this you is human? Why this dream is showing you a time before we were really together?"

"We were—" Jim started, but Claire interrupted him with a laugh, leaning back and grabbing his hand on her waist and dragging it up to cup her breast.

"Like this?"

Jim couldn't help but blush, but he also lightly squeezed the mound under his palm. "Well, no. I guess not."

"This is when you were feeling your lowest," Claire explained gently, cupping her hand over his and threading their fingers together above her heart. "This is when and how you doubted yourself the most." She paused to let him process this information, bringing their joined hands up to brush a kiss across his knuckles. "Jim, you love being a father, but I know that you have always questioned and second guessed yourself. Being thrown into a future that you weren't ready for has only intensified those feelings. Handling a 6 month old little girl is much different than a handful of walking, talking, and thinking teenagers and kids."

Jim chuckled thickly, pressing his forehead to Claire's, finally conceding to his fears. "It's just… what if I'm… Aiden said we fought, and I told him that I understood and that it didn't mean we didn't love each other — and I do believe that! — but…" he swallowed against the ache building in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut again. "…but what if I mess up? Like, really mess up? What if I don't protect them enough? Or I protect them too much, and they resent me for it? What if I… I'm like…"

"You would never be like your father, mi amor," Claire said, reading into his fears easily. It wasn't as if he had never shared those feelings with her before, but they had never been so present as they were now. "I told you once that you would be the best father in the world, and you have never given me reason to doubt that. I have never met a man — especially a teenaged one — who gave as much of himself to the people he loved more than you. You love our babies, and you are dying for them, but Jim… you need to live for them too. Your father didn't have that strength, but you do. You always will."

"Claire…" Jim sighed, the ache in his heart lifting a little at the confidence in her voice. Unable to resist, he tilted his head and crashed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. She responded enthusiastically, her tongue tangling with his, her hand dragging his back to cupping her breast. As he felt the soft flesh fit into his palm once more, he hummed in surprise as he noticed a slight difference in sensation. Yanking his head back and opening his eyes, Jim gasped in surprise as he saw his blue, four-fingered troll hand now fondling his mate, rather than the human one he had only just had. Licking his lips, he felt his longer teeth protruding from his mouth, and he noted that even the angle he was lying at was longer than it just had been.

"There you are," Claire laughed lightly, nuzzling affectionately into his throat and gently licking and nipping at his favorite spots. A growl of desire rose in his chest and she laughed again, leaning back to look up at him. "I need you, love — but I need you awake and in the real world."

"You're not exactly making me want to leave right this second," Jim teased, jerking his hips against hers, but he could already feel the magic that he hadn't perceived previously lifting from around him. Claire was clear in front of him, but their surroundings were fading, becoming dark and fuzzy. Even the bed below them was fading away, until they were nothing but two souls floating in darkness.

Claire grinned up at him once more, a slightly evil glint in her eyes. "No? I would think real sex would be better than dream sex. Besides," she darted forward and nipped his bottom lip, tugging playfully. "I think Aiden will appreciate his existence as a late birthday present."

Jim snorted another laugh, shaking his head. "I told Merlin that you had Baby Fever."

"Close your eyes," Claire said after a moment of shared laughter, and he relaxed and did as she said. "Now, breathe… and wake up."

To be continued...

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