Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 25th September 2021

"For the record," Toby said, flat on his back and panting, "this is your fault and I resent you for it."

Jim folded himself down next to his best friend and patted him on the shoulder. "Share the pain, Tobes," he said consolingly.

Nomura arched a dark eyebrow. "How exactly is this his fault?"

Jim and Toby exchanged a look before Toby said, "He told me to take the canal route home that day. So it's totally Jim's fault the amulet chose me."

"Hmm." Nomura folded herself to the ground as well, a respectable distance away. "So you're the Trollhunter and he has Excalibur." Her gaze was appraising. "And I'd guess the odds of that happening are very, very low."

"Fishing, Nomura?" Jim asked lightly. "Tsk, tsk."

She smiled, a sharp appreciative slash of an expression. "If you're not going to tell me, I'll just have to figure it out, won't I?"

"You could take a thousand guesses, and they'd never be the right one," Toby said, trying to leverage himself up off the ground. He failed and fell back flat. "My everything hurts," he moaned.

"Draal was soft on you, little Trollhunter," Nomura said. "He was only training you to survive Bular. I'm training you to take on Gunmar."

"Ugh," Toby groaned. "You sure I can't pay you to take the amulet, Jimbo? Absolutely sure?"

Jim patted his shoulder again. "Sure as sunrise, Tobes."

"I begin to hate weekends," Toby said as Jim's cellphone chimed. "School days, at least I have an excuse to get to bed by midnight."

"Huh," said Jim, looking at the message on the slightly-expanded group chat. "Claire proposes we do a massive strategizing session tomorrow morning, since Douxie's not working."

"I'll still be here," Toby said, waving a hand from his prone position. "Just gather around me and use me as a table to put your drinks on."

Nomura sniffed. "I will not be here," she said. "Unlike you, I don't have all weekend off."

"So, you, me, Claire, Douxie... Blinky and Aaarrrgghh?" Toby asked.

"And Draal," Jim agreed. "Strickler's still on theoretical bed rest until Monday, and Mom's got the late shift again tonight, so she'll be sleeping in."

"I'll tell Nana to prep snacks, then, and we can do it in my basement," said Toby.

"Right. Team Trollhunters Sunday strategy meeting is a go, then," said Jim, texting the group chat back to that effect.


Barbara was not expecting to come home and find a wizard sitting up on her sofa.

"Douxie?" she asked. "Why are you still up? It's past three."

"I know," he said softly, hand stroking the lump of black fur by his side. Archie was either fast asleep or doing a fantastic facsimile thereof; Barbara wouldn't put either past him. "And I'm sorry to keep you from your sleep, but... I need some advice. Please."

"...All right," she said, putting her coat and purse away. "Let me make some tea, I guess."

He smiled wanly, and in the kitchen she heard the kettle click on.

"Or you could get it started while I get the cups," she allowed. "Sleepytime, or something less herbal?"

"Green tea, please," he asked.

"So this is something you want to be awake for, but not enough to jolt yourself with caffeine at this time of morning," she surmised.

"Quite," he said. Barbara stopped and looked at him, really looked.

When Jim had been four, or seven, or ten, before he'd grown quite enough independence to become a caregiver instead of a care-needer, he'd sometimes curled up in her arms, just wanting the comfort of an adult, the steadiness of someone who could make decisions and know they were the right ones. He'd needed to be safe.

Douxie, she realized, for all that he was over nine hundred years old, had never had someone's arms to protect him, or to make the decisions for him. Archie was in some ways more adult than his partner... but she had yet to see him take charge or gainsay Douxie.

And right now, the nineteen-year-old wizard looked just as filled with uncertainty as Jim ever had.

So when she brought the cups of tea out and set them steaming on the table, she sat beside him rather than across from him. Screw it. Jim wants a brother? Jim can have a brother, she thought. "Let's hear it, kiddo."

Douxie paused, looked at her, as if not sure that she'd actually used the same term for him that she used for Jim. Barbara gave him a slight nod: go ahead.

"I..." He took a breath, as if buying himself time to marshal his thoughts. "I've spent a long time running," he said, "because that was the only way for Arch and me to stay safe."

She nodded. "It must have been hard."

He bit his lip. "Sometimes," he admitted.

"And now?"

"Jim wants me to put down roots," Douxie said quietly. "But if I don't keep running, I don't think I can keep running away from... everything."

"Change can be scary," Barbara said, trying to sound out the edges of what it was he actually wanted to talk to her about.

"Terrifying," he whispered. "The thing is... I'm not sure I could survive losing another home. I've already lost two. I can't do a third."

"Are you scared I'll kick you out?" she asked.

He sharply shook his head. "No. You're... Jim get his kindness from you," he said, meeting Barbara's eyes. "I look at you and see so much of what makes him worthy of Excalibur."

Barbara was taken aback. "That's... probably the nicest compliment anyone's ever paid me."

"You deserve more of them, then," Douxie told her.

"So if it's not that, then what's worrying you?" Barbara asked, picking up her cup. She sipped carefully; the tea was still hot.

"I don't know how to do things other than running at full tilt," Douxie said, looking at his hands. "And I don't know how to catch myself if I stop."

Clarity struck. Barbara put down her teacup. "Douxie, how much do you work?" she asked him. "Two jobs, five days each," she said, thinking of the whiteboard calendar on the kitchen door. "Six hour shifts, minimum..." She did quick math in her head and her eyes widened as she realized what she'd been overlooking. "Douxie, you're working sixty hours a week, plus your band practice. That's not sustainable."

He looked offended. "Of course it is. I've been doing it for yonks."

"That doesn't mean it's good for you," she said firmly. "I'm an ER doctor and I don't work that many hours. Labor laws exist for a reason."

"I'm under the table," he said. "They don't apply to me."

"Yes they do," she replied firmly. "Exploitation is still exploitation even if you don't have all your paperwork in order."

His breathing hitched, like he was trying not to cry. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me," Barbara said.

"I want to stop," he confessed. "Or at least slow down. I'd like more free time to work with Claire on her magic, to spend with Jim and Toby bringing them up to speed on staff fighting and all the human magic things they should know but haven't ever been taught. To do a deep dive into Blinky's library," he added, and she had to smile, because anyone who loved books as much as Douxie and Blinky and Archie all did was clearly onto something.

"But?"

"But I also want to build up some savings, just in case," he said. "And I know that it can't be easy on your budget, feeding both me and Jim when we're, well, eating like teenagers because magic burns energy so fast. And I'd really," he said, "like to be able to give decent gifts to people for birthdays and such."

Barbara blinked. "Okay, let's break that down one point at a time," she said. "First, you are not a burden on the household budget, so stop thinking you are."

"But-"

"But nothing," she told him. "When Jim's dad left us, the judge was very sympathetic about a single mother medical student being abandoned by her spouse. I was able to put most of the child support payments into Jim's college fund, and Nancy Domzalski was perfectly happy to be daycare for Jim and have him play with Toby while I finished school and did my residency. Jim's dad came from a fairly well-off family; our divorce settlement took care of most of the mortgage, and I got it the rest of it paid off two years ago. My student loans are at a reasonable rate and getting smaller every year. So. I may not make a mint, but I am well able to provide for you and Jim."

"But-"

"You do not need to pay your way," she enunciated clearly, so that Douxie would understand. "So if you've been thinking you need to contribute to the household financially, stop."

"I've... been slipping money into Jim's grocery fund," Douxie confessed.

"Stop that, and use it to build up that savings you want," Barbara told him. "Look, when Jim first tried to get me to take you in, he let me think that you were a kid the foster system had failed."

Douxie's face was wary. "And now?"

"Now I think you're a kid the whole world has failed," Barbara told him. She fished out her 'panic button' pendant. "As to that remark about giving decent gifts... Douxie, this is probably the best, most useful gift anyone has ever given this family. And no one else could have made it but you."

He waved it off. "I can name you half a dozen wizards who could've done it."

"Could you?" she asked. "Really? Ones who aren't sleeping or trapped?"

He faltered.

"I think you underestimate yourself, your skills, and your value," Barbara said. "Handmade doesn't mean inferior. Anyone could buy Jim a new video game. Something like this?" She wiggled the pendant. "Peace of mind? That's a lot harder to come by."

His hands were trembling, and she didn't think it was from a lack of sleep. Barbara gave into instinct and put her arms around him, pulling Douxie toward her so that his forehead rested against her shoulder. "I don't know how to make you understand that you're safe here," she said softly. "I don't even know if I can guarantee that you are. But I think it's time you slowed down, and let yourself be a teenager as much as a master wizard. I'm not asking you to give up your independence, but you can put yourself under someone else's care, and just be, okay?"

His breath shuddered, but- "Okay," he said. His hands clenched once, then surged around her, holding her in return.

Barbara said a fast mental benediction to his long-ago parents, that at least Douxie was able to remember being a child, being held.

"You know," she said apropos of nothing, "I always wanted more kids."

Douxie huffed a laugh. "In that other future, you and Strickler had triplets."

Barbara blinked. "Biological?" she asked, trying to imagine how that would even work. Somehow all she could visualize coming from the union of a green troll and a pink human were Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy's theoretical offspring.

"Adopted," said Douxie. "Arcadia Oaks had a baby boom of former changeling familiars that year."

"Huh." Barbara tried to picture that. Babies everywhere. "Well, babies are fun," she said, "but right now I was thinking of an older kid."

Douxie went still. "Older?" he asked, sounding unsure.

"Someone to be a big brother for Jim," Barbara said. She tilted her head, looking at him. "Maybe about nineteen years old. Know anyone who'd be up for the job?"

"Draal's free, and an orphan to boot," Douxie replied.

Barbara stared at him for a tic, then burst out laughing. He joined her, and they leaned against one another for a few minutes, shaking, until the giggles died down.

"Okay," Barbara said, taking off her glasses and wiping at her eyes. "That's enough for tonight, I think. We should both get to bed."

"Probably." But Douxie made no move to go yet.

She sighed, and put her hand against his face. He didn't quite lean into the touch, but something in the way he held himself made her think he desperately wanted the contact. Touch-starved, she added to her mental probable diagnosis. "Cut back your hours at the cafe," Barbara told him. "Two nights a week, no more. It'll give you more time with the boys and Claire after they're out of school. And the bookstore job is probably more useful to you anyway."

He nodded, like he'd just been needing someone's permission to do what he'd wanted to do anyway. "All right," Douxie said softly. "Thank you, Barbara."

She thought about telling him he could call her 'Mom' if he wanted to, like Jim did, but held back. There was already enough change in their relationship for one night. More could wait until this had settled in.

And, oddly, folding Douxie into their family felt right. Not quite like a missing piece slotting into a puzzle, but like opening a door to find a room that she'd never seen before, but which had always been there, waiting to be discovered. The soul expands, she thought, to fill the space given it.

"Now go to bed," Barbara told Douxie. "I know Sunday's your morning off, but it's already late enough as it is." She stifled her own yawn. "And I should turn in too."

He nodded. "Good night, then," he said, and turned toward the stairs.

A minute or two later the puddle of black fur on the sofa stretched and yawned, before looking at Barbara. "That was very well done," Archie told her, before following in the footsteps of his familiar.

Yeah, thought Barbara, smiling to herself. I think it was.