He awoke slightly disoriented.
With a stiff stretch and a small grunt he rolled onto his back to wait for his brain to catch up with the rest of him. The mattress was unfamiliar but the smell of the sheets was one he knew well. Three slow blinks and then everything clicked into place as he remembered where he was. Carefully, he turned his head and received a face full of auburn hair for the effort.
Barbara was still asleep, her breathing slow and even, and he watched the steady rise and fall of her back in unabashed fascination. She lie on her stomach nearly flush against him, and his heart stuttered at the sight. Could she honestly trust him so much that she could sleep so serenely beside him? His throat tightened with unexpected emotion at this simple action. To her it might not mean anything but to him it was acceptance beyond anything he could have ever hoped for.
Slowly, he sat up and looked around the room. The clock by the lamp told him it was only half past six in the morning. He hadn't been asleep for very long, then. That meant that neither had Barbara so he took extra care not to wake her as he extracted himself from the bed. She made a small noise of displeasure at the shift in weight but only burrowed deeper into her pillow.
He let loose a sigh of relief and then proceeded to try and stretch out his sore muscles. He was unusually stiff and it took him several minutes to realize that the dull ache he felt might not be all his own. Barbara was a busy woman but he doubted she was used to the level of action and endurance that last night had demanded.
He would take advantage of the shower she offered earlier and then he would see if she had any medicine he could take for her sake. If they could share pain then they could share relief, he reasoned.
O-_-o-_-O
Jim rolled out of bed at the smell of coffee. It was unusual for his mother to be up before him but it did sometimes happen. So he didn't think anything of it as he made his way down the stairs still yawning. The last traces of sleep vanished the instant he walked into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?"
"A moment, Jim, I'm on the phone. No, no, sorry. Yes, that's fine; I don't really care about the extra cost, I need them today." Strickler stood propped against the counter with a mug of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. It was bad enough that the changeling was still in his house (which meant he had spent the night), but, to make matters worse, he was wearing a pair of familiar blue gym shorts. And nothing else.
Jim barely resisted the urge to walk over and yank the phone away from him. Instead, he settled on stomping over to the cupboard and taking down a mug of his own.
"What are you still doing here, and why are you wearing my clothes?" He wasted no time in asking more questions as soon as the man had hung up his call.
"Your mother said I could stay since it was so late after we had finished talking. She also offered use of your shower. Since it wouldn't do to get clean and then change back into dirty clothes, I made a trip down to the washing machine. They're a little tight but I'm only borrowing them for as long as it takes my own clothes to finish drying." He answered as if it were a completely normal chain of events.
Jim shook his head and narrowed his eyes. While he worked to put his thoughts into a coherent order he took a long sip of coffee and hated that it actually tasted good. His mother usually burned it and he typically never bothered with the stuff. He glared at the mug as if it had betrayed him before turning back to Strickler. The man had no right to look so at home in his house, in his kitchen.
"Look, I don't care what was said last night, and I don't care what kind of truce you supposedly have with Draal and my mom. I want you to know I don't trust you and you don't have the right to just waltz in here and act like everything is just peachy. You've tried to kill me how many times? And—and now you think you can just borrow my shorts!" He slammed his cup against the counter in agitation and hot liquid sloshed over the rim in the process. He hissed and brought his hand to his mouth reflexively, the minor inconvenience only heightening his irritation.
"They were in the dryer. I folded the rest of the load for you. They're in a basket in the living room."
Jim looked ready to explode into another tirade so he skipped to the point, "I'm not asking to be forgiven; I know I don't deserve it, but please, let's be civil for now, alright? I just got off the phone with the home and hardware store. They'll be sending a truck out later this afternoon to replace the windows. Afterward, I had planned to go and buy a new door for the kitchen, and a new sofa. It only seems right that I should replace them since my being here is what lead to their destruction."
"That's another thing! Do you think you get to just hide out here while your changeling buddies send something else to come kill you?"
"And where would you rather me go? I did offer to remove the Bond from your mother but she has decided to leave it for now, which would complicate trying to outrun potential assassins. I'm absolutely sure that if my home isn't burned to the ground, it is under watch with an ambush waiting."
Jim saw red. How dare he bring up that awful charm. How dare he be so blasé about it, as if it no longer mattered except as an inconvenience.
"You'd have me believe that she just decided to stay magically attached to you? That she could just over look what a selfish, asshole move it was to do something like that?"
"Of course not. I never implied that she was okay with any of it, only that she has decided to leave it for now. We've talked about it, I've apologized, and we're going to carry on and make the best of it." Walter finished off his coffee then rinsed the mug out in the sink. He could fully understand Jim's ire and indignation. He had already faced much the same anger with Barbara, but right now he was too tired to argue and in no position to try to defend his actions. He faced his former student and crossed his arms, prepared to endure whatever he might throw at him.
A throat clearing by the door interrupted whatever might have been said next. They both turned to find Barbara standing in the entryway. She was still in her pajamas and her hair was a mess but her face said she was all business and would not be tolerant of their arguing.
"Walt, I heard the dryer buzz a moment ago. Why don't you go change back into your clothes." It was a clear dismissal and the changeling nodded his head to her before retreating from the kitchen.
Jim turned a pleading look to his mother once he was sure Strickler was out of earshot.
"Mom, you can't think that this is okay! He doesn't get to just say sorry and then bygones are bygones or something!"
"No, and he knows it. We had a long chat last night after you went to bed. A simple sorry doesn't cover it, but it is a good place to start." She reached around him to take down her own mug and in the process placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Would you rather he hadn't offered a verbal apology at all? Honey, he is far from perfect but for the moment there's a chance for him to actually change. I'm willing to allow him an attempt to move forward with us instead of against us."
"But how do you know? How do you know he wont betray us or do something stupid?"
"It's almost a guarantee that he'll do something stupid," Barbara muttered to herself with a fond roll of her eyes. "But, I don't think it would be a malicious type of stupid. And really, I don't know anything for sure, but with this I'm almost certain. You're just going to have to trust me. Honestly, I spent the better part of yesterday arguing with the man until I got my way; I think I know him pretty well by now."
Jim's reply was cut off by a loud bellow from the basement.
"Barbara! I have returned!" Draal's booming voice proceeded him up the stairs. Strickler trailed a little ways behind the larger troll as he made his way into the kitchen to show off what he had brought back. His smile was proud as he tossed a small, black bag onto the counter top.
"Where did- what- are these real?"
"Of course they are real! I assured you once that I would repay you for the hole in your house and this will cover that and much more! It is only half of what I got for the dead rust-trolls," he said as he pulled out a large rock that looked like a sapphire and held it up to the light.
"They were worth that much?" Jim was as stunned as his mother over the sight of the bag of gold and precious stones. He had seen plenty of beautiful crystals and gems down in the Market but it had never occurred to him until now to think of them in terms of human monetary systems.
"Rust trolls are very rare in this part of the world and on top of that, they are very difficult to kill. I imagine he got a fair price for them," Walt said as he slowly made his way over to where the others were standing.
"But why?"
"A number of reasons, all of which you are better off not knowing about," the changeling answered with a shrug.
"Wow," Barbara wasn't sure what to think as she reached into the bag to see what else was there. "I'm not sure how I'm suppose to sell these, though."
"A little work and they could be made into jewelry. Or, if you wanted to sell them as is, I'm sure I could find a few buyers who would give you what they're worth."
"Thank you, Walt. For now, let's just put these somewhere safe and out of the way; we'll deal with it later. Thank you, Draal. This is more than enough to offset the hole."
"You are very welcome. This isn't just for the tunnel, though. You have offered me lodgings and food, it is only right I offer you something in return," Draal said with a grin.
"Living in the basement and eating my cooking isn't something I would charge you rent for but thanks all the same." She gave him a light pat on the arm and a bright smile as she pulled the drawstrings shut on the bag. "Are you sure about giving me all of this? It still seems like too much."
Draal rolled his eyes and gave her a friendly shove in the direction of the door. "You worry far too much. Yes, it is all yours. You have earned it. Last night's battle may have lasted far longer without your help; if you must have another reason to accept your share, then let that be it."
"It's still so weird watching them interact. They really are friends, huh?"
"Indeed. And, we should both of us be grateful that they are. They're both more stubborn than mules but somehow their odd friendship has been a catalyst for good these last few days." Walter ignored the annoyed glare Jim shot at him for having added his two-cents in. "Imagine how much more trouble could have befallen us otherwise."
Jim gave a stiff shrug. That was something he could go on not thinking about and be content to do so. There was enough trouble at hand for him to mull over without adding in what-ifs. He watched the older man out of the corner of his eye as he attempted to bring his attention back to the others in the room. He still didn't like him but he would bide his time for now.
O-_-o-_-O
"I just don't get it! Do you really trust him?"
Strickler and his mother had left for the store which left Jim and Draal alone for a while. Jim had decided not to go to school and his mother hadn't protested, going so far as to write him a fake sick-note to turn in Monday.
"I don't completely trust his motives. They are still largely for himself, in some ways. However, I have been forced to spend far more time in his company than I would ever like and that has been enough to convince me that he does truly care about your mother. He will do almost anything for her," Draal answered as he lifted up the table for Jim to better sweep beneath it. Apparently, his rule against cleaning only applied in times when Barbara wasn't the one asking him to do it.
Jim rolled his eyes, "Yeah, that's not good enough. He's got a very twisted idea on what caring about someone entails. He was all ready to "try and look after" my mom back when he was set to open Killahead! What I wouldn't give to know for sure that he's going to change and work with us. It's all well and good to pretend to since we're his best defense against the other changelings that want him dead, but what about when he finds a better option?"
"Hmm," Draal seemed to consider this for a long moment before letting out a snort with a shake of his head.
"I may know of a way to know for sure. It isn't illegal but it is –what did your friend Tobias say the other night?– it is a dick move. There is a certain elixir that makes the drinker tell the truth to any questions asked of them. It only lasts a few hours and it's difficult to acquire because it is frowned upon. Some view it as a violation of free-will and it's more underhanded than most trolls prefer to be."
"Do you think you would be able to get some? Is it something that RotGuts would have?" This was the best news Jim had heard all morning. "If so, I'll stay here and finish cleaning and you should go and get us some! If he thinks he's going to camp out here, we need to know for sure he isn't going to betray us as soon as it's convenient for him."
"If you are positive this is the best way, I will procure the elixir. But, are you sure you do not trust your mother's judgment on the matter or her sway over the changeling?"
Jim sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He slumped against the wall and answered, "I trust her with a lot of things but when it comes to the world of trolls and the responsibility of being the Trollhunter, I don't think she can really understand. She means well, but with him, I think she's too willing to believe the good in people. I think the fact that she wants him to change might be blinding her to the danger."
Draal laughed and shook his head. "That is where you are wrong. Barbara has been keenly aware of the danger since the night the alliance between us and the changeling was formed. You have also not seen her in action. If anyone could browbeat Stricklander into submission, it is your mother. Yet, I do understand your need for certainty. You finish cleaning and I shall be back within the hour."
O-_-o-_-O
Blinky sighed as he shut yet another book and pushed it aside in frustration. He and Aaarrrgghh had been in his library almost the entire night and most of the morning after leaving the Lake household. Though he was fascinated with all that Draal had been up to with the Trollhunter's mother, he had more pressing issues he wanted to focus on. Now that he knew of his best friend's condition he didn't want to waste even a moment in looking for a cure.
"You sleep," Aaarrgghh told him gently as the other troll stopped him from reaching for another book.
"I'll have plenty of time to sleep, later. Just one more and then-"
"Humans need sleep. Can wait."
"Blast this frail, squishy body and its many needs. Humans require so much upkeep! I suppose you're right. I wont be much use if I cannot even read the pages." His shoulders slumped and his voice was sad and laden with fatigue. He hated having to put this research on pause for even a few hours but after the fifth yawn in as many minutes even he could admit he needed to stop.
"Rest now."
"Wake me up in an hour if I don't do so on my own," he instructed as he pushed away from his crowded desk. His back popped as he stood, and though it felt nice, he worried a little at all his creaking.
"Not nap, sleep," Aaarrrgghh insisted as he shooed his friend in the direction of the pile of blankets that served as his bed in the far corner of the room.
Blinky grunted his displeasure but obeyed, for as resolute stood his desire to keep working, the idea of sleep was swiftly tempting him off his feet.
His friend tucked in and lost to wakefulness, Aaarrrgghh looked back at the many stacks of books with a frown. Only a few more remained before their resources would be exhausted. He touched his hand over his slowly-growing wound and sighed. He had known since Vendel had seen him that the chances of finding a cure were slim, but now the reality was beginning to set in.
He was about to turn and leave when a familiar flash of blue crossed by the library's window. Draal looked to be in a hurry, and the other troll's passing distracted him enough from his brooding that he ambled over to the door to investigate. He appeared to be on a mission.
One hand on the doorway, he was just about to follow after Draal, when a new idea crossed his mind. Though last night had been confusing at various points, he had learned a very interesting fact that he had yet to fully consider.
Draal and Jim's mother had some sort of arrangement with the changeling Stricklander. Stricklander had been the one to wake Angor Rot, and was just as old as—or older than—himself. He was also someone who would know more about Gumm-Gumm magic than what might be available in Blinky's library. Like it or not, at this point, he would be willing to ask him if he knew of a cure.
The man had seemed agreeable during the few hours Aaarrrgghh had been with them last night. Perhaps whatever strange alliance the three of them had formed might help him now.
With one last look over his shoulder to make sure that Blinky was still asleep, Aaarrgghh set out to catch up with Draal.