Walter Strickler had never considered himself bad at guessing what people were thinking. Years of tactical conversation had in fact honed his abilities to read between the lines. This one time however, he found himself at a complete loss. Was he doing something wrong? Admittedly he hadn't been in a relationship for several decades, and never one where he truly cared for the woman, so it was possible his romantic abilities were... rustier than he thought. He shook his head, deciding that was an improbable cause.

He sighed deeply, wandering back into the other room and setting a hand on Jim's shoulder gently. He was grateful the trollhunter was back. He really was. No one in the entire world knew Barbara better than Jim did and he admittedly was more than willing to ask for help at this point. This wall she was putting up between them wasn't as new as he would like to admit. It was as if there was some corner of her heart she refused to let anyone so much as look at, let alone reach out and touch. He suspected it had something to do with James but knew better than to try and force her to talk about it. Relationship scars like that ran deep and often healed messily.

Jim murmured, "Should we hold off on the movie for tonight then? Mum looks… tired."

Walter nodded, his gaze wandering back to the kitchen where she was distractedly trying to make popcorn, the unnatural pacing in her actions giving away that something was bothering her.

He spoke softly, "Perhaps you and I could talk about that instead? I'd like to see Barbara resting."

Jim nodded, immediately picking up that something was wrong. He refolded the blanket he had gotten out, setting it back with the others and flicking the television off. He seemed surprisingly tense as he stuck his head around the corner into the kitchen and Walter took a mental note to discuss it later.

Jim smiled as he spoke, "Hey mom! I'm... actually not sure I feel like watching anything tonight. I was thinking, me and Walter could stay up and chat for a bit? We'll keep it quiet though, so you can get some extra sleep."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed as Barbara tried to comprehend what she had just heard. Jim and Walter wanted to talk. When her brain caught up she nodded, smiling. She could use the rest. There was no question about that. As much as her brain urged her to ask about why she couldn't stay for their talk, she felt ready to collapse.

Did I do something wrong? I must have but what? No... No Jim wouldn't do that. You're overthinking things again... Right?

She pulled her son into a hug, shaking her head a bit at how small she seemed now as she agreed, "I could use the extra sleep anyways. Not that you two wouldn't have guessed that already knowing you and Walt. Goodnight Jim. I love you."

He smiled and hugged her tighter, replying, "I love you too mom."

Jim watched quietly as Walter and her said goodnight for just a moment, his thoughts wandering to Claire as a smile settled onto his expression. He found the coffee machine starting a new pot before he even registered turning it on. The rich smelling brew started to fill the glass, the way the light caught it and turned it slightly warm reminiscent of her eye colour. Now that he had finally seen her again, time since felt unbearably long. He wanted her there again. He wanted to hold her. He really wanted to kiss her. He was standing next to Walter.

He jumped a little, scolding, "Do you ever make noise when you walk?! Geez! Warn a tro-" He stopped, correcting himself with a slight smile. "Warn a guy."

The older man smiled, his voice gentle, the lack of malice behind it still unfamiliar to Jim, "Thinking about miss Nunez? I'm happy for you two. It's not often high school sweethearts can maintain their relationship. Generally it... putters out. Like a car with an old battery."

Jim laughed, "You know you're starting to sound more and more like an old man Mr. Strick- I mean Walter. Sorry. Wow. That's gonna take some getting used to." He tried to find an excuse to change the topic, not even nearly adjusted to this new dynamic they were working towards. "Coffee? I figured it would keep us awake enough to converse."

Walter nodded, agreeing, "I think we could both use it. Despite my recollection of you sleeping well into the day I understand that this is rather opposite your usual routine."

It was a comfortable silence in the room as they both poured their drinks. Like the lull after a family dinner ought to be. Walter's mind was buzzing though. He had so much he needed to discuss with the boy that he wasn't quite sure where to start. He noticed a scar peeking out of the edge of Jim's sleeve. That would do just fine.

"I kept my scars too. Not that I had a say in the matter. Rather an unsettling process turning into a human... It takes a great deal of time to properly adjust, or in your case, readjust. I still don't think I'm used to feeling so… vulnerable."

Jim tugged his sleeve down, sipping his coffee quietly before replying, "Does it get easier...?"

Walt felt a pang of sympathy. He knew the question wasn't just about being a human. Knew how hard it was to try and settle after what felt like a lifetime of fighting. Of killing.

"Most days it does... But sometimes you can't help but think about... the past. What you would have done differently had you known. The lives you could have saved and... And the ones you didn't." He paused, not wanting his drink to grow cold and appreciating the second to collect himself and his thoughts. "But we can't change the past any more than we can escape it. Trust me. I've been running away from mine for longer than I care to admit." He glanced at Barbara's abandoned attempt at making popcorn. "That's not exclusive to trolls."

Jim was quiet for a moment before murmuring, "Mon's been acting closed off again right? James... My dad... He wasn't a nice guy. I mean who... What type of creep just leaves?! I didn't get it back then. I kept trying to figure out what I did wrong. Kept waiting—like an idiot—for him to come back. For… for anything really." He grew quiet, shame filling his voice, "I blamed mom once." He visibly flinched at his own words, taking a breath before continuing. "When I couldn't find something I did wrong and I was a bit older... We got in a fight and I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to say something to make her upset. I said dad must have left because of her. I just didn't… I couldn't deal with the idea. For him to have left because of me. Because I was scared mom might leave because of me too then."

Walter Strickler had never considered himself bad at guessing what people were thinking. But he admittedly hadn't seen that coming. His mind was reeling. not just because of what Jim had confessed to but all the other implications that went hand in hand with it.

Barbara... She wouldn't blame herself. Would she? For the actions of a man who obviously didn't know how very lucky he was. James sounded like an altogether unpleasant man; not even worthy of the title of father, let alone dad or husband. But for Jim to have blamed himself for so long… Maybe she still hadn't forgiven herself, even despite the glaringly obvious fact that she did nothing wrong.

The silence that hung between the two men was broken by the sound of Jim's ringtone before either of them could think of something to say. Jim mumbled an apology before answering, the tension draining from his posture.

"Claire, how are you babe? What? My text? Ahh… I was just… That is…"

Walter smiled a little. It seemed that much like himself Jim had found an anchor. Now he just had to hope Barbara was willing to do the same if he offered to be one.