The next morning, Claire texted him bright and early. She seemed to be in a chipper mood as she sent a string of heart emojis.
When he picked her up, she could see right through him. "Alright, what's wrong?"
He chuckled, "you could tell?"
"Yes, very easily, in fact. I've been with you nearly every hour for the last month. You're an open book to me."
Jim shrugged his shoulders. "Then, do you want the good news, or the bad news?"
"I suppose I should get the bad news first."
"Well…my father is back."
"Oh Jim…"
"I came home last night and he was there. He even pointed a shotgun at me."
"No…"
"But tonight, we're having dinner together. So I have to collect myself."
There was a long pause, Claire having no idea what to say to make him feel better. "So…what's the good news?"
"Oh!" He brightened considerably. "Draal's back!"
"Draal!? Really!? That's wonderful! How did that happen!?"
"Literally, no one knows. We haven't asked Merlin about it yet though."
"Well, who cares?! Draal's back, that's all that matters!"
Jim smiled. "Yeah."
"Wow, what a thing to come home to. You learned all this last night?"
"And—" he interjected. "Strickler is trying to get me back in school."
"Ah-ha! I knew it! Are you going to?"
He shrugged. "I...I'm not sure. I want to, but also..." he tugged on his horn.
"I get it," she gave a soft smile. "What about the Glamor Mask?"
"The what?"
"Oh, that right, you were in the Darklands. Toby and I used a mask to pretend to be you while you were gone."
"Just a mask?"
"It's a mask that changes the whole appearance. You look and sound like whoever you think of."
"That...could work." Jim amended.
"Let's worry about that later! I want to see Trollmarket!"
He smiled at her gusto. For now, he would be happy. Dinner would come and go, like most things. Jim was the man of the house now, and James would just have to deal with that.
—
Dinner was...awkward. To put it simply. He imagined it would be even worse if Claire had not been there, but as it stood, Jim, Claire, Walter, Barbara, and James all sat quietly around the table.
Jim made a fine steak dinner, considering he hadn't really cooked anything in a month (save for a few unfortunate rabbits for Claire.) But they turned out delicious anyway.
Jim served them all, and then took his seat, without a meal.
James looked at him coldly, "you aren't eating?"
"No, I uh...I can't eat human food anymore."
Then Barbara smiled and stood, "actually Jim, I made something for you." She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a bowl of...something. It was a greenish brown, and smelled bad (if you got up close to it, nothing to ruin the dinner.)
The rest of the table looked at it weakly, trying to imagine what on Gods green earth could be in the mixture.
"God Babs," began James, "you never could cook."
"I made it bad on purpose." She snarled back.
Meanwhile, Jim sniffed the concoction and scooped some up with a spoon. Carefully, not to eat the silverware, he took a bite.
"Wow! This is great! What is it?"
"I would rather not say at the dinner table. But let's just say Dicitatious helped me create some traditional Troll cuisine. And, I bought a ton of silverware from Goodwill, so don't feel bad if you eat them."
Now that everyone had a meal, dinner could commence.
Jim attempted conversation first. "Uh, dad? This is Claire, my girlfriend." He introduced.
"Nice to meet you," she smiled warmly, despite the unease in her stomach.
James glanced between them, and then simply said, "Ah."
For a while, the only sound was the awkward clinking of silverware on China.
"So," began James, directing all attention to himself. "Jim, your mother says you've been traveling for a while. Did you...become a Troll before or during?"
Jim stared at the man, surprised that he was trying. Maybe his mother put him up to this. But if he was sticking around for some time, it was only fair to let him in on some stuff.
Just enough to keep him from asking questions.
"No, that happened before actually." Then he turned to Barbara. "What did the news show about the attack?"
"Ophelia did a good job keeping the videos off the Internet. To everyone outside of Arcadia, it was just a tornado."
"I saved a broadcast for you," said Walt. "I think you'll want to see it."
"Thanks," he nodded. "So, did you hear about a tornado?" He asked his father.
"I did, that's sort of why I decided to come here."
"Well, three days before that is when I became a troll. The tornado was actually an invasion of a man-eating troll called Gunmar, and a sorceress named Morgana."
James raised an eyebrow, full of doubt.
"As the Trollhunter, it was my responsibility to stop them. So Merlin made me a potion that turned me into this." He gestured to himself.
"Why?"
"Because they were really dangerous, and I would have lost if I went against them as a human."
"And you can't turn back?"
"No, it's permanent...but I don't mind it so much anymore. There's some downsides, but I'm getting to be okay with it."
"Downsides?" Asked James, "besides your...appearance?"
"I think he looks cute," defended Claire, with a scowl.
"I do too," added Barbara.
"Of course you would, Babs. You're his mom. But if your sweet Walter over here looked like that, I'm sure you wouldn't feel the same."
Walt cleared his throat and turned away in his chair. Ah, so Walt was still keeping secrets.
"I could throw you across the room," Jim noted, blank faced. And he would, if things ever got dicey.
James scoffed, but then didn't comment after studying the dark look on his face. He swallowed and picked at his steak again. "How long have you been this 'Trollhunter?'"
"About a year."
"One year and you were expected to fight this evil troll on your own? Didn't you have a mentor?"
Jim answered calmly. "Suppose you purchase a fire extinguisher, and you've not had it for very long before the building catches fire. Would you wait, just because you just got it?"
"No," said the man, "Because that's its purpose. I would have bought the fire extinguisher for that reason. It's different."
Jim lifted his shirt and showed the amulet that was burrowed into his skin, along with the scar left from Morgana. "And the amulet chose me to defeat Gunmar. That's my purpose. You should know better, I thought you were a soldier. Didn't you have to do your duty for your country?"
James was silent. The sight of all those scars on Jim's chest ran shivers down his spine.
Jim pulled his shirt back down, finished his dinner, then ate the spoon.
James glared at his steak, thoughts rolling through his head. But they had remained to be spoken.
"Miss Nuñez," Walter began, desperate to recover their nice little family dinner. "Are you planning to return to school next week?"
"I wasn't initially," Claire answered, all too glad to change the subject. "But now that I'm back, I think I will. Jim says you were trying to get him to go as well."
"Only if he wants to. The teachers have already been informed of his transformation, and the windows in the building have been tinted to protect from the UV rays so harmful to Jim. It's just the other students I'm worried about."
"I wasn't a child when I became a soldier!" James finally shouted, unable to keep his anger in check. "But you're just 16, and you're expected to be this great warrior?!"
"I already did. It's over now." Jim tried to remain calm. His defeat of Gunmar was a proud accomplishment, but it was still a sore memory. It had changed his life in some negative ways, all of which he had lamented about in his mind. He didn't need this from a man who was so uninvested in the situation. "Why are you so upset about this?"
"Because you're my son!"
Jim couldn't help the condescending smile that came over his face. "And I wonder how different things might have been if you had stayed."
James slammed his fist on the table as he stood. "You think you can talk to me like that? In my own home?!"
Jim also stood, despite the protests from his mother. "You may own this house, but this is not your home."
James snagged the glass he had been drinking from and chucked it at Jim in fury.
But, with his advanced senses and speed, Jim easy caught the glass in his maw, crushing it with his piercing teeth. James stared in horror, and wilted back into his seat.
"Are you done?" Asked Jim. "I don't know what your purpose is in coming back here, but you have no authority."
"You're just a kid..." muttered James.
"But I've been here the last 11 years! Where have you been?" A crushing feeling took root on his heart, as he roared. "Where have you been?!"
Claire reached over and took hold of his sleeve, "Jim…"
But Jim was not deterred. "Where were you when we needed you?! When I needed you!?"
James folded his hands in front of his face, not daring to meet his eyes. "Fine. I owe you an explanation. I owe you all an explanation."
Jim just continued to glare, his nostrils flaring.
"This started before you Jim, and before your mother. In the army, I was introduced to cocaine. I loved it, but I knew if I ever got caught with it, I'd be kicked out. So I kept a lid on it, kept it a hobby and not an addiction. After I left the army, and got married, I started to crave it again, so…I would go out and dope up with some friends. I kept it a secret from Babs, obviously. When she started med school, money started getting tight, so I decided to start selling instead of just using. That's how I bought the house."
Barbara looked sick to her stomach. This whole time, she had loved this house, and had no idea what had financed it.
"Then…there was Rudy." His brows pinched, in pain. "She was a regular customer. Beautiful, young, and had money. She hit me up once a week, and we'd smoke together for hours. We'd talk, and I told her all about my family." He scratched at his neck. "When Babs was in school, I felt…really lonely, so I really started to rely on Rudy."
Barbara stood quietly, taking a couple plates with her to the kitchen. Claire helped.
James spoke a little louder to be heard. "Rudy stated that she knew some other guys interested in dealing, and wanted to know if I was interested in joining them. I said yes, and…we left. I left. I bought you that bike, as an apology. But I guess it was never enough, huh?" He scratched at his neck again, and Jim noticed some scabs left behind.
"I moved up. I, and a few others, were there to collect from a smuggler. We were kings, dealing from on high to the lowers all throughout Los Angeles. We made millions…but then, we got cocky."
Jim listened intently, and did everything in his power not to run over and pummel the man.
"We all took a certain percent. And the head honcho took the largest. I decided I didn't like the percent I was making, so I started stealing product from my boss and selling it without reporting it. Rudy and I took about 3 kg, sold some of it, smoked some more. And then my boss asked where it went. I told him I didn't know. He told me that was fine, as long as I payed him back. I don't have that kind of money, so I came here to hide out for a while."
Claire, who was strangely interested in this story, was the one who asked the question everyone was thinking. "How much do you owe him?"
"Well…our cut goes for about 100 bucks a gram. So you do the math."
"That's it." Jim stated, with a little nod. He stood again. "For the glory of Merlin…"
James watched in shock as the Troll at the end of the table glowed blue, and donned armor.
He pointed his sword at him. "Get the hell out of my house, now!"
Still frightened, James shook his head. "Can't, Jimmy."
Jim snarled at the nickname.
"I have to pay that money back, one way or another. So I could leave, and just sell the house…"
"You wouldn't dare…"
"No, Jim, I would. Okay? You don't know who you're messing with! These men, they're relentless. You've heard of loan sharks breaking knee-caps? That would be an act of mercy! They'd find a way to get their money back, one way or another. It'll probably involve me sucking dick without teeth."
"James." Barbara reprimanded.
"And so you decided to lead them here, instead?"
"I'm not an idiot, Jim," James bit. "They don't know anything about you or your mother. Rudy's the only person that knows about this house."
"And how do you know she's not going to rat you out?"
"Because we're in this together," he said simply. "I trust her."
Finally, Jim dissolved his sword. "How long are you going to stay?"
"A few months. Just until Rudy sets up a new contact."
"So what? Until then, are you setting up a drug ring in my living room?"
James scoffed. "You don't know how these things work, do you?"
"I wouldn't, no." Jim returned with a bite.
"Oh Jim!" A crotchety old voice called from the front door. "Jim! I need money!"
"Oh great, now the other headache is here." Jim lamented as his armor dissipated.
Merlin came strutting around the corner, finally out of his armor and into…more appropriate clothes. He wore a hawaiian shirt, and plaid bermuda shorts, knee socks with marijuana leaves on them, and golf shoes. "Jim, I went to McDonald's and they said they don't accept gold, I mean really! Who doesn't take—am I interrupting something?"
Jim managed to glare at the man, despite the ridiculous outfit. "Merlin, this is my father, James. James, this is Merlin, the wizard."
"Ah! So this is James Lake Sr!" Merlin said, approaching him with a keen eye. "Ah, I see…very interesting…very interesting indeed."
"What?" Asked James, backing away from the weird old man. "What do you want, you old fart?"
"Now don't get testy with me," Merlin said with a frown.
"Or what? Are you going to turn me into a frog? Ohh, I'm so scared."
Jim managed a smile. "Merlin, if you can change him into a frog, you'd win my favor."
"A frog ah?" He scrutinized the man.
"Wait, what? No! I was joking!"
"No no, a frog wouldn't work." Merlin finally determined.
Jim deflated.
"But, a pig…a pig I could do."
Barbara burst out laughing, as Walter managed a smirk.
"It wouldn't be permanent, but it could last a few days. Is that alright?"
Jim's eyes widened as a smile stretched over his face. "I think that'd be perfect."
"You're not serious!" Cried James, "there's no—WWEEEEE!" The second half of his sentence was turned into a squeal as his whole body convulsed and twisted until only a sad little swine remained.
"I take it back Merlin, you're not that bad."
"Does this mean I can have money for McDonald's?"
