Jim dodged another blow from Draal's body. His armor sent up sparks where it dragged against the pavement. "Let him go, Gunmar!"

"Why should I? It is such fun watching you suffer like this. Fight him, Trollhunter."

A grimace crossed Jim's face as he dodged again and was forced to block with his sword, nicking Draal's remaining arm. He would give anything for some back up right now. Unfortunately, Toby was home sick, and Claire was probably asleep by now. Jim had been on his way home after making sure she got to her house safely when Gunmar attacked. She, of course, had offered to drop him off at home using the Shadow Staff, but Jim had declined, thinking nothing would happen. And, of course, Gunmar hadn't politely waited while Jim called his friends for help.

He ducked and rolled to the side again, dancing out of Draal's reach. "Snap out of it, Draal!"

"He can't hear you, whelp. But I'll make sure he remembers how you squirmed when he killed you."

"I'm not going to-" Jim was cut off as Gunmar backhanded him, launching him down the road. He groaned and pushed himself back up once he rolled to a stop.

Jim glared at Draal's glowing blue eyes Gunmar had borrowed and readied himself for another strike. However, Gunmar watched Jim with a curious expression on Draal's face, followed by confusion and disgust.

Draal's body tipped forward and he spun across the ground towards Jim. Jim stilled, and the world grew sharper and brighter before he chucked his sword in the road in Gunmar's path, summoning his daggers from his thighs as he started forwards. He knew Gunmar wouldn't be able to see in that maneuver, and the sudden stop from hitting the Sword of Daylight would confuse him the same way it had confused Draal all those months ago. He had to take advantage of it.

As expected, Draal hit the blade and was knocked to a stop, however it only kept Gunmar's attention for a moment. Jim didn't get the time he needed to get in close for the daggers to work. Before he could do anything, he was launched through a fence and plowed up dirt in some stranger's yard.

Jim panted. It had been a long night and the fight had lasted a lot longer than he had hoped. His limbs ached and felt heavy and stiff. The stress and lack of sleep were causing a headache to form as well. He needed to get out of there, but Gunmar wasn't just going to let him hop on his Vespa and run. Or run at all for that matter.

Lost in his thoughts of escape and a soft bed, Jim didn't notice Gunmar until he was flying head over heels through the air. Not knowing which way was up or down, Jim called on the armor's helmet. His head hit the pavement and Jim felt and heard the grinding screech of metal and asphalt. Even when the helmet dissipated, Jim's head felt heavy. Both the top of his head and his jaw felt weighted down and off balance, like something was clinging to him.

Jim struggled back to his feet, calling the Sword of Daylight back to his hands and ignoring the odd sensations for now.

A hand clasped around Jim's chest, lifting and squeezing. He felt ribs crack.

"What kind of abomination are you?" Gunmar slammed Jim down into the pavement. Sure, it hurt his back and arms and everything else, but what really hurt were the things on the top of his head. They ground and scraped on the pavement, sending vibrations straight through to his skull. Jim cried out as much as he could without being able to breath, and when his mouth closed again he felt a strange pressure on his upper lip. Almost like he had fangs jutting out from his jaw.

Jim's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I think I'm going to let you live for now," Gunmar mused to himself. "If only because it should be interesting to see what comes of this." The hand unwrapped from Jim, and Draal's body turned, picking a path back to the forest through the debris.

Jim should have gotten up and taken the advantage to attack. He should have ended the fight. Gunmar should have ended him. Jim shouldn't have horns and fangs. Jim shouldn't be able to see so clearly in the darkness.

The armor dissipated, leaving Jim defenseless, confused, and in pain. He levered himself up onto his knees, and stared at his hands. His skin seemed to be thicker and paler than it normally was, but luckily not an odd color for skin, like purple or green. He could deal with suddenly developing much tougher skin. He wasn't sure how to deal with anything else.

Jim needed to get out of there. He was different. Changed. He couldn't be seen like this. Not by anyone. His mom might not even recognize him. Toby could barely get out of bed. The trolls hated changelings, and now he was something, an unnatural abomination. There was no way it would end well. As for Claire… Jim just didn't want her to see him like this. Steve and Eli probably wouldn't understand, and Jim didn't want to call on them if he didn't have to. Maybe he could go hide alone somewhere. Just until he could find a better option or until he could figure out how to hide it.

He rose and staggered to his Vespa, which was miraculously undamaged by the fight. Then he stopped. He'd just run through everyone he could trust. And if he hid… there wasn't a single place in Arcadia where his friends wouldn't find him, or Gunmar. Where was he supposed to go? Strickler? Jim paused at that, hands on the handles of his Vespa. Strickler… he was a changeling, and he seemed to be actually helping them. Even if Strickler wasn't the best of options, he and Nomura were sharing an apartment right now, and Jim trusted her after everything that happened in the Darklands. He knew where their apartment was. It wasn't far either, all he would have to do would be get there and hide out until things went back to normal.

The ride didn't take long. After he arrived at the building, Jim quickly stashed his Vespa out of sight and made his way to the back to avoid being seen by anyone leaving for the day. It also helped that Strickler and Nomura had chosen an apartment in the back of the building, so they and others could come and go without being seen. And Strickler had made the Trollhunters memorize which windows were theirs.

Jim ignored the pain flaring across his chest and limbs as he climbed the fire escape and accidentally bent a few railings on the way up. Once he was at the right one, Jim carefully pried open the window and slipped inside, closing the window behind him. The room appeared to be a living and dining room. It was sparsely furnished. Just enough to make things comfortable and give it a somewhat lived in feel. Neither changeling wanted to stay here long. Neither thought it was smart to get attached to the place either.

Jim shuffled towards the couch, planning on laying there and sleeping until some noticed him or woke him up. As he went, movement caught in the corner of his eye. Jim froze for only a fraction of a second before whipping to the source ready to fight. Was it a goblin? A Gumm Gumm? Another changeling? Had his allies been found?

Jim could feel his face heating up when he realized it was a mirror. After a moment of embarrassment, Jim actually looked at himself. It was strange. Two large teeth jutted up from the sides of his mouth, and his messy dark hair contrasted with his pale skin and faintly glowing yellow eyes. Although, only his sclera had changed color, while his irises remained blue. Jim opened his mouth and looked more closely at his teeth. They didn't look too different from human teeth, but upon touching them Jim decided that they were sharper. The only reason he didn't cut himself was his new tougher skin. Jim glanced back up at the horns protruding from his head that matched the ones on his helmet almost perfectly. Reaching up to touch them he discovered that he couldn't really feel them. He could feel extra pressure on his skull if he pushed hard enough. Jim could actually tell that he was adjusting to the weight and learning to ignore it by now. Another quick glance over himself brought Jim's attention to his ears, which had become long and pointed. Jim would have to say, if anything, he looked a lot like the thing in the Deep. Not that he ever got a really good look at it in the dark with only the light of their blades to see by.

The lights flicked on. "Jim? Is that you?"

Jim jumped. He had forgotten he was at Strickler's apartment. He turned around to face the changeling standing in the hallway. "Hi, Strickler."

"What is this?" Strickler gestured at Jim's horns. "What-?"

"I don't know." Jim shuffled his feet and ducked his head. "It kinda just… happened."

"And you chose to come here?"

"I didn't know where else to go. I mean, my mom doesn't know anything, trolls don't like changelings, and-"

"Relax, Young Atlas. I don't need to know everything. Why don't you sit down? I'll make some tea, and then we can discuss this further."

Jim watched as Strickler didn't wait for a response and moved into the kitchen. After a moment, Jim hesitantly shuffled across the room and gingerly sat on the couch. When Strickler returned with the tea, the two sat and drank and observed. The silence was almost oppressive and the tension thick enough to suffocate them. Jim wanted to talk and break the silence, but he didn't know what to say. What did you say when you showed up unannounced at a former enemy's home changed? Jim sipped quietly.

"Have you ever… seen something like this before?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't. Even if changelings do appear to be somewhat more human in our troll forms, we are still very much trolls and not humans. You appear to be stuck in the middle. A true half breed."

"Real helpful."

"You asked."

"I used to look human, though. How can I be part troll?"

"Perhaps you came into contact with some kind of magical item, like your friend Blinky."

Jim shook his head. "We haven't come across any new magical items recently, much less ones that Blinky can't identify. And before you bring up ones we don't know about, Gunmar didn't know either."

Strickler put down his tea cup. "Gunmar!? How can you know that!?"

"I was fighting him when… this happened. He was confused and called me an abomination."

"While Gunmar does know some level of manipulation, I will agree that he is not likely to have been able to hold his tongue for that. And the Janus Order would not go behind his back like that either." Strickler rose from his seat, placing his mostly empty cup on the coffee table.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a first aid kit. You just came out of a fight with Gunmar, forgive me, but I highly doubt you walked away unscathed."

"I'm fine, Strickler. More shaken by this than anything."

Strickler eyed Jim for a moment before slowly reclaiming his seat. "For the record, I do not believe you one bit when you say you are 'fine.' However, I am well aware that if you do not want medical assistance, I cannot force it on you."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Whatever." There was a pause in the conversation, and the silence pressed down on them again. "So, what? I'm just stuck like this forever?"

"No, as you said, you looked human before tonight. It is likely that you can switch back and forth between this form and your more human one." Strickler paused for a moment, considering something. "What was the last thing you said to me before our first true fight?"

"As in, before we started trying to stab each other? Or before we started insulting and threatening each other?"

"I was referring to the attempted mutilation with steak knives, however you have rendered the question rather pointless."

Jim frowned. "Why-"

"I wanted to make sure you were truly James Lake Junior and not a clever copy. Only you and I know what happened during that fight."

"And Nomura."

"What?"

"Nomura. We had a lot of time to talk in the Darklands. We told stories. That fight kinda… came up."

"I suppose it could be rather humorous in hindsight."

"Some parts of it." There was another pause. "So, how do changelings switch?"

"I don't know exactly how to explain that. It is something that simply comes to us and is a well-known instinct, like chewing and breathing. But given the lack of actual muscles involved, there isn't a simple description. I do believe, however, that you will return to normal when you are relaxed."

"I am relaxed."

"No, you aren't. You are tense, Young Atlas. You have been the entire time, and that is completely understandable. This is strange and new and quite frankly threatening to your way of life. No one knows what's going to happen, least of all you. Add to that you are sitting drinking tea with someone you have very good reason not to trust. I highly doubt I was your first choice, but given the circumstances, I can understand why you did come here. Would you like me to wake Nomura?"

"No. No, this is fine. I wasn't really differentiating between you two when I chose to come here. I just needed a place while I figure this out, and I didn't think you would freak out as much as everyone else. For the obvious reasons."

"Understandable." Strickler took one last drink from his cup and made a face at the now cold drink before rising. "Perhaps you ought to get some rest, Young Atlas. I have certainly found that it tends to ease the weight on one's shoulders and makes everything seem just a bit better. Hopefully everything will be back to normal by tomorrow."

Jim nodded. "I guess you're right. And Strickler?" Strickler turned to face him. "Thanks, for helping me. And for coming back. You didn't have to."

"I owe you quite a bit, Jim. Both for what you have done for me, and for the pain I have caused you and your family and friends. I might not be a good person, but I do repay my debts. Give me a moment to get this cleaned up and I'll get you some blankets."

Jim sighed as he waited for Strickler to return. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected from Strickler, but comfort was probably not on the list. Not really. Sure, Strickler was helping, and he wasn't asking for much in return, but comfort was not something Jim had associated with Strickler since he had discovered his history teacher was working with- for -Gunmar. Change out the problem and the setting and it could have been any of the times Jim had come to him for advice, or received it without needing to ask.

"Here we are." Strickler announced. Jim smiled slightly as he saw the bundle of blankets in the man's arms. "This should be enough to get you through the night. If you need more, there's some in the closet down the hall on the left. Grab as many as you need."

"This'll be fine. Again, thank you."

"It's nothing at all, Young Atlas. Now get some rest."

"Good night, Mr. Strickler."

"Good night, Jim."

Jim couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face as Strickler turned off the lights and returned to his own room. Once he was gone Jim burrowed under his borrowed blankets, trying not to damage the couch with his horns, and allowed himself to relax his aching body and sleep.