Jim lay on his bed. He was tired, physically and mentally, but unable to rest. Every time he moved, he was reminded of the changes in his body.

It wasn't just his limbs that had changed; his senses were different too.

He could see perfectly in the dark of his room. He had noticed down in the living room that the colors he was used to were muted and a few even missing. There were other new colors now too, ones he could not name that appeared in strange places. It made everything look surreal and unfamiliar.

His hearing was better, as was his sense of smell.

In contrast, his sense of touch was muted as if he was wearing gloves.

All in all he felt overwhelmed and twitchy.

After spending what felt like three hours trying to go to sleep on his stomach -he couldn't sleep on his back with a tail and wings- he lifted his head and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes. It had been only fifteen minutes.

Jim struggled into a sitting position with a groan.

This wasn't going to work.

His clothes had given up the ghost so to speak -and he didn't have anything that would really fit him at the moment- so he wrapped his bedsheet around him in some sort of awkward toga and ventured downstairs.

Or rather tied to.

Unfortunately he still wasn't used to the way his legs now worked so he missed a step and went tumbling down to land in a miserable heap at the bottom.

"Jim?!"

He looked up to see his Mom staring at him with wide eyes.

"Hi Mom," he said awkwardly, forcing a rather brittle smile to his lips.

"Are you okay?" She asked, holding out a hand.

"Yeah, just a little shaken," Jim said. "I missed a step."

He started to reach for her hand but stopped short at the sight of his own claws. Before he could draw back Barbara closed the distance. Pulling Jim to his feet turned out to not be quite so easy now that he had gained a fair amount of weight, but after a lot of flailing they managed it.

Jim made it to the kitchen without any further mishaps.

"So what are you doing up?" Jim asked.

Barbara sighed.

"I couldn't sleep," She said softly.

She went into the kitchen and returned with a pot of hot water, their box of tea bags, and another mug. Jim selected one and, after checking the water temperature, poured himself a cup of tea.

They sat for a while in silence, each brooding on their own thoughts.

Jim took a sip of the tea and noticed that the flavor was different. Not bad, but different. He stared down into the cup and watched the ripples.

"What are the scars from?"

Jim jolted out of his trance.

"Which ones?" He asked before he fully registered the question.

He grimaced. His Mom's brows drew together in a rather pained expression.

"You have a Lichtenberg… an electric scar… How did that happen?"

Oh…

Jim hesitated.

"Jim…"

He sighed.

"Remember the lightning storm on my birthday?" He asked.

Barbara nodded slowly.

"There was this Troll-bird-dragon thing called a stalkling that was hunting me. It managed to catch me when I was biking home from school. I was up in the air and…"

And he couldn't breathe. He was going to die alone and no one would even find his corpse…

Jim drew in a harsh breath to shove the memory down. His new tail was pressed against his leg and his wings and hands were cramping from how hard they were clenched.

"Anyway," He went on, trying to act like he hadn't just started freaking out over a memory. "Anyway I used my sword to attract some lightning to kill it."

Jim grimaced into his tea cup. That had come out a bit flippant at the end. He glanced up hesitantly and found that his Mom's face was pale.

"You called me," She breathed out. "It was after you then wasn't it?" Her hands were shaking. "And I just… I just left you out there… Oh my God… I almost lost you…"

"Mom…"

"How many times?!" She demanded, standing up abruptly.

Jim leaned back in surprise at the sudden… well it wasn't rage… but it was something just as raw and wounded.

"How many times have you almost died?"

There were tears in her eyes. Jim realized numbly. His Mom was crying because of him.

"Mom." He half rose from his chair, clawed feet splayed out awkwardly.

"Please don't lie," She said in a wavering voice, lowering herself back into her chair. "I remember now that you promised to tell me everything."

Oh…

Jim felt his ears lower and a faint whine formed in his throat. He looked away. That wasn't the only promise he had broken lately. The guilt seemed to close around his throat like a set of talons.

"I'm tired of all this lying," Barbara whispered.

Jim ran a hand down his arm, still looking away.

"Me too," He said with a sigh.

His wings drooped as he felt a strange, exhausted feeling, fall over him like a blanket. He settled back down and reached a hand across the table, hesitantly taking his Mom's.

He gave her a weak smile.

"I'm not going to make any promises, I don't seem to have a good track record, but I'll try to include you in all this…" He waved a hand vaguely. "Stuff, from now on."

Barbara sighed. "I'll take it."

She squeezed his hand.

"And I will do my best to be there for you. Less overnights and missed events."

"But…"

"No buts," She said firmly. "I'm your Mom and I need to be there for you. I haven't been and I almost lost you because of it."

Jim wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He was used to taking care of his Mom. Cooking and cleaning were normal to him and he didn't really mind. Sure it bothered him that she was gone so much sometimes, but he understood. That was just how it was.

He nodded anyway.

She sighed. She ran a hand through her messy red hair before closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths.

"So is there anything that might help you sleep?" She asked.

Jim blinked, caught off guard by the sudden topic change.

"I don't know," He said. "This" He indicated at himself. "It's just all too much right now."

Barbara blinked and looked him over. Jim pressed his wings in against himself and fought the urge to pull the blanket up over his nose.

"I suppose it must be."

She frowned thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid I'm a little at a miss on how to help," She finally admitted.

Jim hesitated.

"Want to talk a little longer?" He asked hesitantly. "I can tell you some of the stuff I've done and about the people I've met."

"I'd like that," His Mom said.

Jim took a sip of tea and then gingerly leaned back, curling his wings around him.

"It all started when Toby and I took a shortcut through the canals..."

Author Notes

First announcements and then meta:
Okay! I'm going to end this one here. (It was supposed to be a oneshot!) There's definitely more to be told (and I actually have more written), but I think this is the best place to end this particular story. I think I will do a sequel in the future to cover how Jim being a half changeling affects things. It's probably going to be a year or so before I get around to it though, since I'd like to try to get more done on my other chapter fics. (I'm also just really busy.)

Onto the meta:
Something that won't come up because the characters have no way of knowing is that the spell would not have been successful if Jim hadn't been the Trollhunter. Permanently altering a creature's nature takes a huge amount of energy. In Jim's cannon transformation this was supplied primarily by the lightning. The changeling scientist who invented the spell never got far enough to realize this. Had Jim not been the Trollhunter, the spell would have still worked but it would have drawn its energy from Jim himself. The toll would have been too much and Jim would have died halfway through.

On gaggletacks:
My headcannon is that the spell on gaggletacks is designed to reveal hidden forms. So naturally prior to this it did nothing to Jim because he had no hidden form. Off of this point a gaggletack could actually be used to force an Akiridian from their human form to their true form but not vice versa because the human form is a disguise that must be reapplied each time it is used.
Technically a changelings human form is also a disguise but due to their connection to their familiars it is on a far deeper level.

The gravesand was still in effect when Jim has transformed because its magic hadn't run its full course. I like the idea that magic spell must be finished and trying to stop them has major negative effects. Inhaled gravesand can actually wear off on its own. Normally it would have worn off after getting knocked out, but the shifting magic being activated and then being turned into a troll really exacerbated the effects on Jim.

As Strickler stated the shifting magic would have killed Jim if they hadn't intervened.
On how the shifting magic works: Changelings shift from fully Troll to fully human however even in human form they retain a link to their familiar. When the changeling is human the familiar basically stores the magic of their troll form and when they transform it returns to them and the magic ... data so to speak... of their human form is stored with their familiar. Basically the familar works something like a information storage, as well as providing a genetic template for the changelings human form.
The link manifests in the human changelings cells but it isn't something scientists can yet detect. (Though an advanced magic user like Merlin can.)
Jim is going to have it more complicated because he can't store the form he isn't using elsewhere. This is going to have some... side effects... both regarding transformation and his physical form itself.

~~~
Anyway thanks for reading and commenting! I hope y'all enjoyed.