Hey everyone!

So this idea was bouncing around in my head for awhile, and I finally typed it out! Now there's mention of medical stuff, but I'm no doctor so some of the stuff might be wrong! Sorry about that!

Also, in this story, Aaarrrgghh was never turned to stone! And this has fatherly Blinky/son Jim feels! Because family fluff is the best XD

I've also been thinking lately if I should try writing a fic with Troll!Jim, because I figure it'll be cool to write, and maybe it'll even inspire others to try their hand at it too (there's so much that can be done with Troll!Jim, I'm so sad that so far no one's posted a fic with that yet here on ! DX)! So, what do you all think? Would anyone be interested in reading that kinda fic?

Disclaimer's on my prof.!

Sorry for any spelling errors! Spellcheck likes to mess up my words sometimes -_-"

Enjoy and please review!

Jim liked to think of himself as independent. He had been ever since his father had left, after all. He cooked, cleaned, and handled school-work all while serving as the Troll Hunter. He trained hard, and worked even harder when shoved into a real fight.

However, all of this left him exceedingly exhausted each and every morning, and when one is tired, they tend to not be so quick on their feet, as Jim quickly found out.

Just over half-a-year of being the Trollhunter, and Jim was already surprisingly adept and patching up his own injuries and hiding them from, well, just about everyone. From his mother, from Toby, even from Blinky. By now he had a routine after a particularly rough fight: find a way to make his injuries not look to bad (the last thing he needed was Toby, Claire or Aaarrrgghh freaking out), finish his duties for the night, then return home to clean his injuries, cover them with bandages or gauze, and come morning cover up any bruises with long sleeved shirts and (embarrassingly) his mother's makeup when there were any nasty bruises on his face.

And this allowed life to go on normally for Jim, aside from the aches and pains he could feel under his clothing and the nagging worry that something would go wrong (would his bandages come off? Would blood soak through his shirt? Would the concealer somehow get rubbed off and reveal a bruise on his cheek?)

But now, as Jim grimaced at the gaping wound in his arm, he wasn't sure if this was something he could just bandage.

He'd managed to clean it up to a point where he could fully assess the damage, if only for a minute before the blood began to seep out again, and he was sure he would need stitches (and a lot of them, at that). But he couldn't go to the hospital, everyone there knew him, and his mother would be sure to catch wind of him coming in with a giant gash in his arm. Just how would he explain that? He couldn't just say "oh, yeah, I wasn't paying enough attention and wasn't able to summon my magical armor before one of these mythical creatures managed to slice my arm open, mind patching me up?"

Yeah. No, that wouldn't work.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jim took a deep breath and lifted his arm over the sink before pouring some peroxide over the wound. He squeezed his eyes shut, a hiss of pain leaving him the cleansing chemical bubbled and sizzled, destroying any trace of infection. Shaking his head violently against the pain, his watering eyes focused on the nearby roll of gauze, and he grabbed it. He was quick to bind his arm tightly to slow the bleeding (because frankly, the blood-loss was making him a bit lightheaded), and once he secured the gauze in place, he glanced in the mirror.

A bruise was coloring his right temple, and there was a stain of red at the corner of his lips where he'd wiped away some blood. His right side was aching something fierce, where Jim was sure he had a couple of bruised ribs (while his armor did well in protecting him, it didn't do that much to lessen the blows he received). His ankle was also stinging badly, probably sprained.

He supposed he should thank his lucky stars that tonight he'd been on his own. He doubted if Toby, Aaarrrgghh or Claire had been with him, he would've been able to hide his injuries this time. Usually he could hide his injuries under the armor, but with all this blood...

Yeah, no, that would've failed miserably.

But now, as he sat here, staring at the gauze on his arm that was slowly turning pink, he knew he had a dilemma. A few stitches, sure, he'd done that before, he could resist the pain and keep his hand steady enough. But this injury? It would take thirty stitches to close the gash, no way could he keep his hand steady enough through all that...

Hospital was out, doing it himself would be impossible. That meant he had to find someone who could keep a calm head, and was smart enough to do the stitches properly...

Jim's eyes lit up as it struck him. Blinky! Jim knew for a fact that Blinky, the book-loving Troll he was, had read numerous human medical books (and even had a few in his personal book collection). No doubt Blinky could help him, Jim would just bring the medical-grade thread and needles his mother kept in their first-aid kit (perks of having a doctor for a mother: more medical supplies than in most other houses). It wasn't as if going to visit at three a.m was too big a deal anyway, it was Friday. He could sleep in tomorrow.

Plan in mind, Jim jumped to his feet (ow, bad idea, stupid ankle!) and hurried to grab what he needed. The sooner he got himself patched up, the sooner he could stop worrying about blood loss.

By now, Jim knew ever little back road and side passage in Trollmarket, so getting to the Trollmarket library (where Blinky almost always was) without drawing attention to himself wasn't all that hard, even with his aching ankle giving him a bit of a limp. Jim entered the warmly-lit cavern looking around.

"Hey, uh, Blinky? You in here?"

"Master Jim?" Jim jumped slightly when Blinky's head popped out from behind a large pile of books. Blinky smiled when he saw the human teen. "My goodness, shouldn't you be at home getting some rest? Not that I don't enjoy your company, but I've read that young humans such as yourself need at least eight hours of sleep."

Jim smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, sorry to drop by like this, but..." Jim shuffled a bit awkwardly, eyes dropping to his shoes. "I kinda have a favor to ask."

Blinky paused, face falling slightly as he registered the teen's hesitant, somewhat weak tone. The Troll seemed to sense that right now, Jim didn't need a mentor, but a friend.

"Well, of course Jim. You know I'm more than happy to help." Blinky replied, dropping the word 'master'. He set aside the large book in his hands, moving over to Jim. "Is something wrong? You're looking rather pale."

Jim winced. Yeah, he probably looked white as a sheet, with how exhausted he was and the blood he'd lost.

"I just...I got a little banged up tonight, and I need some help patching myself up."

Blinky looked surprised, but smiled all the same, nodding.

"Oh, of course, I'd be happy to be of assistance. Did you bring one of those human medical kits?" He asked, moving clean up the books strewn across the nearby table. Jim laughed slightly.

"Its called a first aid kit, Blinky." Jim corrected, grinning crookedly. Blinky waved a hand absently.

"Yes, yes. Go on and place that here on the table."

"Thanks Blinky. I couldn't go to the hospital or anything, mom would freak out, y'know?" Jim said, pulling the kit from his backpack and opening it, setting it on the table. He pulled up his sleeve, unwrapping the gauze as Blinky put the books away on the shelves.

"Oh, I understand. I suppose explaining some bumps and bruises caused by your battles would be a rather difficult thing to explai- By Merlin!"

Jim jumped, eyes snapping up to his friend, startled by Blinky's exclamation. The Troll had turned away from the shelves, and was staring at Jim's ripped open arm with horror. Jim grimaced.

"I know, it looks bad-"

"James Lake!"

Jim cringed. Uh-oh...Full name. Jim knew that, same as with his mother, when Blinky used his full name he was in some sort of trouble. Blinky hurried forward, taking hold of Jim's arm in two of his large hands, being as careful as he could (though it still hurt like the dickens, but Jim managed to withhold a hiss of pain). The Troll looked over Jim's arm critically, expression pained.

By now the wound had clotted somewhat, so losing too much blood wasn't as big a concern now. Still, the gash was ugly and looked as painful as it felt.

"Your armor should've protected you from this sort of injury!"

Jim shrugged (and instantly regretted it as the movement made his side throb).

"They caught me by surprise, I wasn't able to summon the armor before one got in a good shot at my arm." Jim's free hand rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I know, I know, a Trollhunter should be aware of his surroundings at all times, but-"

"Jim, you shouldn't have waited so long to come to me for help!"

Jim grimaced.

"I didn't think it was that bad until I got home and got a look at it. I thought it was something small, something I could patch up myself, y'know?"

Blinky fixed the boy with a stern look.

"You should come to me whenever you're injured, no matter the size of the injury."

Jim smiled half-heartedly, a feeling of happiness twisting in his chest. It felt nice, to have someone so concerned about his wellbeing, though it made him somewhat guilty too. He didn't want to worry Blinky, he had enough on his plate as it was just having to train Jim!

"This injury looks serious." Blinky mused, frowning.

"I think I need stitches." Jim replied quietly. "I figured you've read tons of medical books, so you know how they're properly done."

Blinky grimaced, eyes turning from the injury to Jim's face.

"I have never performed stitches, Jim. I don't think-"

"They don't have to be professional doctor-grade stitches, Blinky." Jim interjected. "Just enough to keep it sealed up so it won't get infected. And I mean, sure, it might be a bit awkward at first, with how big your hands are compared to the needle, but Trolls handle delicate work with crystals and runes all the time. This'll be easy compared to that! Look, mom keeps this kit stocked up, it has everything we need to disinfect my arm, and the needles and thread are clean and sterilized, so we don't need to worry about it my arm getting infected from those." Jim turned a pleading gaze onto his mentor. "Please, Blinky? I can't do this myself, I won't be able to concentrate and keep my hand steady."

Blinky hesitated. Jim could see the gears in the Troll's mind turning, Blinky going over the facts in his head and weighing to pros against the cons in this situation. The Troll glanced at the large first aid kit, taking in the supplies it held, from the standard plastic bandaids the average first aid kit had, to the not-so-average supply of medical-grade thread and three sterilized needles that Jim's mom had placed in.

Finally, Blinky sighed.

"Very well. If you trust me to do this correctly, then I will do what I can."

Jim beamed, eyes lighting up with joy and relief.

"Thanks, Blinky. This means a lot."

Blinky only hummed, pulling up a chair and sitting across from the teen.

"I'm always glad to help. Though, I don't quite think I'll enjoy having to stitch your skin together as if it were cloth." Blinky carefully rummaged through the supplies in the first aid kit. "Is there anything in here to numb the area around the injury?"

Jim shook his head, grimacing.

"No. I mean, the aspirin will help take off the edge later, but there's nothing in there for during the process of getting the stitches."

Jim noted how Blinky's lower set of hands, which gripped the edge of the table, tightened considerably, making the ancient wood under them creak in protest. Jim reached forward with his good arm and placed his hand on Blinky's lower left forearm. The touch drew Blinky's eyes up to him, and Jim smiled.

"Its fine, Blinky. Its either stitches or an infected arm, and I'm telling you, stitches will hurt way less in the end. I've heard enough horror stories from mom to know that."

Blinky returned the smile half-heartedly, his lower right hand going to grip the human's hand on his arm.

"I know. I simply find it...unsettling. The idea of causing you pain."

"You'll be helping me." Jim retorted firmly. "It isn't like you'll be hurting me on purpose, and I know you'll definitely not enjoy it. You're giving me these stitches so I won't, y'know, bleed all over the couch and make mom mad. Now, c'mon. I'll get the needle ready for you. While you might be able to manage stitching up my arm, I don't think you can thread the needle with those giant fingers of yours." Jim lightly teased, turning to the first aid kit.

Jim was careful to use his good arm to grab the needle and thread, just to make sure he wouldn't bump his injured arm on the table. A heavy silence fell as he prepared the needle, and Jim could feel Blinky's eyes on him as he double checked that both the thread and needle were clean. He handed the needle to Blinky, who took it carefully. Jim then went about cleaning his arm again with peroxide, cringing at the burning sensation that jolted agonizingly through his arm. From the corner of his eye, Jim saw Blinky flinch, the Troll no doubt sensing how painful it had to be to have the chemical bubbling and cleansing the wound.

Finally, Jim turned back to Blinky, offering his arm with an encouraging smile. Blinky reached forward, hesitating for a moment before finishing the action he'd been preforming and taking Jim's arm in both of his lower hands. Jim continued to smile, finding his mentor's warm, careful hands to be comforting. Blinky glanced up at Jim.

"Ready?"

Jim nodded.

"Go ahead."

Taking a deep breath, Blinky carefully began the first stitch. Jim hardly flinched, forcing himself to instead relax in his seat so it would look to Blinky as if he wasn't in much pain.

Seeming to gain some comfort from this, Blinky continued, going on to the second stitch, then the third. The silence that had fallen was comfortable, instead of the heavy and foreboding one from earlier.

At the seventh stitch, Blinky paused, amber eyes moving up.

"Are you doing alright so far?"

Jim nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." As Blinky continued with the stitches, Jim added, "I'm sorry about this. I know this isn't exactly fun. Usually I can handle making a few stitches on my own, but with how many I'll need for this..."

Blinky froze, amber eyes flickering up in alarm.

"You...You usually perform stitches on yourself..?"

Jim casually shrugged.

"Well...yeah. I mean, getting bashed up a bit sorta comes with the territory of being Trollhunter, y'know? And I can't go to the hospital without mom finding out, and I usually don't want to come to you or the others because I don't like making you all worry, so I handle it myself."

There was a pause in which neither human nor Troll spoke, then Blinky's free upper hand moved to rest on Jim's shoulder.

"Jim, we are your friends. Aaarrrgghh, Tobias, Claire, me...We want you to come to us whenever you need assistance. Whether it worries us or not is irrelevant, especially when it concerns your wellbeing."

Jim looked down, expression falling.

"I know, I just...I can't. Especially not with Tobs or Claire, I mean, I pulled them both into this mess! The last I can do is take some of the edge off by not making them worry about things like this." The teen gestured to his arm pointedly, face hardening with determination. "Besides, I can't always depend on others to be there to help me with this sort of thing. Claire has her family, Tobs has his grandma, they have people that depend on them just like everyone in Trollmarket depends on me, and they can't be there with me every second of every day. So its unavoidable anyway that there will be times when I just have to handle this kind of thing myself. Its like...breathing. Getting hurt and patching myself up is just something that's unavoidable, something that has to be done."

"For Merlin's sake," Blinky growled in frustration, the sound so unusual for the Troll that Jim was a bit taken aback. "Jim, you know you can come to me! I am your teacher, your friend, and I am willing to set aside whatever work I am attending to if you need aid! You know this Jim, I know you do, you are far too smart not to!"

Jim floundered for a moment, at a loss for words. He'd never seen Blinky for irate towards him before, and it was throwing him for a loop. As Jim tried to regain his voice, Blinky returned to the stitches. In contrast to his stern and angry tone, and the stiffness in his shoulders, Blinky's hands worked gently, each stitch being done with the utmost care. When Blinky noticed the teen's stunned expression, he sighed, the the tension leaving him as he continued with the stitches.

"Jim, I know you often wish to do things on your own. I understand how difficult it is for you to trust others, but I want you to know that when you're hurt, you can trust me to help you with your wounds."

Jim shook his head.

"Blinky, I do trust you. I mean, I'd trust you with my life!" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I literally do, technically. I mean, you're in charge of the training that keeps me from, y'know, dying and stuff."

A smile pulled at Blinky's lips at Jim's admission, and Jim had a feeling he'd said the right thing.

"Well, then I expect you from now on to come to me when your hurt, understand?"

Blinky's tone was stern, but caring as well. The tone of a father, Jim absently mused. Truth be told, he enjoyed the times Blinky acted like a father to him. It was...Nice. Even now, as he had to deal with the pain in his arm as his wound was stitched closed, he couldn't help but feel happy.

"I will." He agreed. "Promise."

"Good." A raised brow. "So I suppose that means you'll tell me why you're limping then?"

Jim cringed. Busted.

"Uh..."

"Come now, tell me all the injuries you were given. Its best we take care of those now rather than have you suffering from them later, and no doubt some of your work was undone during your trip here." Stitch twenty-seven was finished, followed by the twenty-eighth. "And then we can talk about adjusting your training schedule. Maybe if we add more training to your schedule this won't happen again."

"Aw man!" Jim groaned. Blinky chuckled as he finished the last stitch.

"I am joking, Jim."

Jim slumped.

"Oh man- not funny!"

But he was smiling anyway.