Disclaimer: Don't own Trollhunters or any of its characters.

Hey! Back with a new chapter. Shoutout to everyone who has commented, favorited, or followed, you guys are awesome. Sorry if I haven't replied to some of your comments I've been working a lot lately and trying to get stuff together for the holidays. Hope you enjoy the newest chapter!

Return of the Trollhunter (II)

"Turn! Turn!" Toby hollered.

Casually, Jim rolled his eyes, avoiding the fire hydrant with a sharp twist of his moped. "I know how to drive, Tobes."

Sure, he was mostly self-taught and had only limited experience in driving during the day, but this was all about learning. He was certain that with enough experience he would be an excellent huma—driver. Excellent driver. Yep.

Tires screeched as he came to a halt at a traffic sign. A dark cat narrowly avoided his wheels, its hisses so vicious he almost thought it was cursing at him.

His lips tugged downwards. Maybe he should take his mom up on that offer for Driver's Ed classes. Not a second later Jim returned to their route.

"And yet," his friend panted as a sickly green overtook his features, "you suck so much. I think I'm gonna hurl."

"Very funny."

Toby cast a particularly pointed glare. "I'm serious, bro. Like, my stomach is flipping around so much I think it could qualify for the Olympics team. Ease up a little, will ya?"

A pang of embarrassment sizzled in his gut, cheeks blossoming rouge at his words. He knew he…wasn't very good at all this human stuff, not as much as he wanted to be anyways.

Ugh. He threw his head back. How did Claire and Toby make it seem so easy? He was catching up on pop culture and idioms and the like, but he knew it would never be the same. They had grown up like this, accustomed to the human way of life and able to work seamlessly through this strange yet exciting world he hadn't been a part of until only a few short months ago. Books and the internet could only go so far.

His returning memories made some leeway with understanding what happened, however, even then things continued to be largely absent. He might have a few puzzle pieces now, but he still had a long way to go before he could complete the picture.

His friend made a gagging sound; Jim eased up.

"Better?" He asked.

Toby sighed, hands no longer gripping hugging Jim's sides. "Much. Whew." He adjusted his helmet, face appearing in Jim's rearview mirror. "We worked up a sweat today, huh? Pretty sure I'll be sleeping through first period after what happened today. How are you even able to function?"

"I used to be pretty nocturnal up until I found the amulet," he replied. "Changelings at the Order spend the day playing human for the most part. It's at night things become truly busy. But sleep has never been something that came easily to me. Still doesn't."

The Janus Order. He shuddered. It was hard to keep his mind off it. His breath shortened. Every time, every single time he thought about it his mind always brought him back to—

"Ugh, why don't you just say coffee and energy drinks like the rest of us plebs?" Toby groaned.

He laughed, dashing his stream of thought away. Another time. "Would you like us to stop by the store on our way to school then?"

"Nah" He gestured two fingers forward. "Let's just get there. I can't stomach anything after running for my life today."

"That's a mood. Seems like we're always running for our lives in some fashion," Jim noted with a dry tone. "At least it's good cardio?"

A sharp poke in his side alerted him of Toby's feelings on the matter. The other boy threw Jim a half-lidded stare. "And you're not making it any easier either."

His brows crossed at the words. "What did I do?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that little promise to Claire that you were gonna save her brother?" Toby replied.

"It's not like we can just leave him there forever."

"I thought you were against saving the babies in the first place," Toby said, one brow rising above the other. Jim's shoulders rose. Fuck, he had been that way before, hadn't he? Jim's lips thinned into a grim line. "What changed?" Toby tapped his chin. "Oh wait, let me take a guess."

"I made a vow. Claire needs me," he defended.

The Fetch idea had been pretty out there for crazy ideas of his. Transporting Chomsky through the portal had been a risk. One that could greatly cost them.

Jim knew that, and, he suspected, Toby did too.

But come on. How could he say no to those chocolate brown eyes? Plus, it was Jim's fault in the first place that any of this happened. If he hadn't been chosen as Trollhunter, Claire's brother would still be here, safe and sound in his crib instead of stuck in the worst place imaginable.

His gut clenched. He had to do this. This would be a way for him to atone for his actions as a changeling. Besides, it wasn't as if he was rescuing any other familiars. Just one.

"Hello? Anyone in there? You know who else needs you?" Toby reminded, knocking on Jim's helmet. "The rest of humanity. Or did you forget who else is in the Darklands?"

He pressed down on the accelerator. "Don't remind me."

"And now Chomsky is stuck in the Darklands too. I hope you're happy you sacrificed a poor innocent gnome to the clutches of evil," Toby languished.

"Come off it. How long are you going to hold that over my head?"

"What day is it?"

"Monday."

"Hm. Let's see, if we calculate the two, carried by the four," he motioned his fingers as if he were an accountant, adjusting invisible glasses before sending a pointed glare at him. He lifted both middle fingers high into the air to emphasis his answer. "Forever."

"Of fucking course," Jim sighed.

The rest of the ride fell into terse silence. Jim…couldn't blame Toby for how he was feeling.

What he did had been terrible.

His gaze sharpened.

But it was necessary.

A small part of him regretted not revealing the whole truth to the others regarding his other reason for sending Chomsky away. But none of them would understand. Not really.

Still, they were his friends. Dare he tell them the truth?

He wanted too, really, but his upbringing held him back. He knew what they would say. But this wasn't about them.

The best thing to do was to keep quiet. It wasn't like it hurt anyone after all.

Well, except for Gnome Chompsky if he died. That would put a pretty big damper on his plans. Toby wouldn't be too happy either if his pet kicked the bucket.

Fuck. Why was everything in life so complicated?

His fingers tightened around the handlebars, digging into the cold metal.

The sun was only halfway up the valley's edge when they pulled into the schoolyard. Toby hopped off the moment he parked, leaning against the bike rack.

After locking up his moped, he watched Toby glance flirtishly at a group of girls, who giggled as they passed. A sharp groan emitted from his mouth a second later, smile dropping as his eyes fell to someone else. Jim didn't have to look to know who it was.

"Oh great," Toby grumbled. "Dillweed, five o'clock."

Steve strolled through, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his lips.

And yet, for some reason, Jim didn't feel the annoyance or anger he used to hold for the blond boy. Their short yet eventful time of running from the cops had given him more respect for Steve.

A small, very very minuscule amount of respect, but respect nonetheless.

Which was why, in a spirit of good will, he would not smack down the flesh—Steve this time. Jim was a changed man.

He let out a deep sigh before turning to his friend. "It's okay, I can handle this."

"Like you handled Chomsky?" Toby said under his breath.

Jim shot the boy a look. "Will you—"

"Lake!" Steve yelled. "Never thought you'd show your ugly mug again."

Too late. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Good morning to you too. Looks like they fixed your tooth. How lovely. Now if only they could fix your face too."

Steve rounded on them, fists raised. "What did you just say?"

Sweet Pale Lady, why did nothing ever go the way he wanted? Jim inwardly sighed. He really needed to work on his reactions to people, especially around humans.

"Dude, what about the not picking fights with Steve thing?" Toby whispered, gripping Jim's sleeve as he tugged him closer to the door. "Wow, look at the time. Class is about to start."

Steve gestured to fingers at Jim then towards himself, walking backward as he traveled to the front of the school. "When I get you alone, payback is coming for you, pretty boy."

The boys stared as Steve jerked around, heading through the entrance doors with his posse. He slammed the door with a resounding thump.

Jim and Toby shared a look.

"Did he just call you pretty boy?" Toby inquired, a strange expression playing across his face.

Jim nodded slowly. "I'm confused. Is this normal human behavior?"

To that, Toby scoffed, placing a hand around Jim's back as they began to walk to first period. "Nothing about Steve is normal."

"Can't argue there."

"So," Darci began, "What's the deal with you and Lake?"

"Huh?" Claire blinked, a tad stunned by the sudden inquiry. Opening her locker, she rummaged through the collection of books, pulling out things for her morning period classes. Not because she was trying to delay answering or anything, ha, ha…She tucked some hair behind her ear. "He's okay, I guess."

Darci rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Just okay?"

Her locker slammed shut. "What do you want me to say?"

"What actually happened for one."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Girl, don't play dumb with me," Darci said, brows drawing together as she continued. "Canadian maple smugglers has got to be the fakest thing I have ever heard."

"Hm," she tapped her chin. "What do you think happened?"

Her friend wasn't amused by her tactic sadly. "Don't avoid the question, Claire."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm not. But seriously, as crazy as it sounds, that's what happened."

Mary slung an arm around her shoulders. "Well, I for one believe ol' Claire-Bear. Girl has, like, been through a lot."

"Thank you, Mary. Glad to see someone believes me. I appreciate it," Claire remarked.

A sliver of guilt crawled through her body. Lying to her friends about everything came so naturally, it scared her. Of course, she knew why she should couldn't tell them (the secret would be out before lunch going by Mary's inability to keep secrets and Darci's inability to lie to Mary), but the act still left a bad taste in her mouth.

Maybe one day she could. After Enrique was back home in her arms. She would need to get permission from Jim first though.

She stopped at the foot of the classroom door. Her breath froze midway up her throat.

He wasn't here, she reminded herself. Anger tried to bubble upwards but she stifled it. Because of him, she couldn't stand going anywhere near the museum now, a place she once loved to visit. Mr. Strickler had tainted it.

It was eerie: everything was still there except their old professor. The posters, the stack of homework, the scent of old books and mothballs, even the man's old coffee mug—nothing was out of place.

As the group settled into their seats, Claire caught Jim and Toby walking past in the corner of her eye. Silently, she nodded at the two.

Experiences bound people together and what better experience than a near-death one? Claire's lips tugged up at the thought.

Toby and Jim seemed so comfortable living in a world where the supernatural existed. Heck, Jim was half-supernatural himself!

She squirmed.

How were they able to deal with it all? Claire sure couldn't. She had spent several nights perusing through Jim's collection of Troll Lore, devouring the information like a starving beast. She even got Notenrique to teach her a few words.

And how could she not? Tales of magic, tales of creatures, tales of heroes—it was everything she wanted and more. Everything she craved to be real.

All for the price of her baby brother.

Her mood dampened as that realization sank in.

"Oh yeah, I forgot the professor isn't at this school anymore," Mary said, looking up from her phone. "Think Mr. Strickler was involved with that whole maple syrup smuggling?"

"Ha, ha," Darci said dryly.

"I also heard he was run out of town by the mob." Mary twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Or, like, he was working for them and got caught by the FBI."

"I heard he got a mail-order bride and moved to North Korea," Darci said.

"As if," Mary snorted, turning to her seat neighbor. "Where do you think Mr. Strickler went, Jimmy-Jam?"

Jim's lips twitched. "Jimmy-Jam?"

"It's your nickname, doufus," she drawled.

He stared at her for a moment before replying, "I thought you hated me?"

"Not hate, strongly dislike. But you apologized for how you were, plus, if Claire's cool with you then, like, I guess we can be too." She cocked her head to the side. "So, what's your theory about the teacher?"

"Uh, I don't know." He looked down, answering in a soft tone, "Maybe he died."

Mary shook her head. "Pft. No way."

"Come on. It's not like Jim was around long enough to know Mr. Strickler all that well," Darci remarked.

"Maybe he's on vacation?" Toby piped in.

Jim winced. "Can we not talk about this? Class is about to start."

"Suit yourself, Jimmy-Jam," Mary remarked airily. Not even a moment later her attention had turned towards her phone, flipping through Instagram and other social media sites with a flick of her finger.

Claire ducked her head but kept Jim in the corner of her sight.

His skin had paled, eyes focused intently on his desk. The morning sun emphasized the multiple shades of blues in his eyes, as well as the vulnerability behind them.

Her heart clenched. This probably wasn't easy for him. She was no fan of Mr. Strickler or the rest of the changelings, but she knew how dear the man was to him, despite everything. Even though the man rejected Jim the boy still felt anguish.

It was that empathy that drew her to him. While sarcastic and rude at times, he was surprisingly gentle, especially around her. Sure, he could be a bit of a dick, but there was some much goodness there too.

She wondered how Mr. Strickler could abandon something like that.

Her fists tightened. Well, she certainly wasn't going to anytime soon.

"What do you think is going to happen now that he's…uh…gone?" Toby inquired whilst scratching his scar.

"The Order will think up something," Jim shrugged. "Or what's left of it will. I don't know. It's not my problem anymore. We have other things to worry about."

Now was her chance.

"Since you two are on the subject of worries, when are we going to save my brother?" Claire asked.

"Claire, one does not simply walk into the Troll version of Mordor," Toby lectured, sending her an annoyed look.

What the hell? Claire's brows pinched together.

Jim merely looked between the two.

"Mord-what?" He asked.

"Jimbo," Toby clenched his chest in mock horror. "We watched it like, last week. How could you forget?"

"Mordor. It's a reference to Lord of the Rings," she explained.

Toby checked his nails. "I'm surprised you know about something like that, Claire."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Claire frowned. Okay, what was up with Jim's friend? Everything about his voice conveyed some underlying hostility, but she couldn't fathom what she'd done to be on the receiving end of it.

"Keep it down," Jim whispered.

Claire leaned forward as Toby scooted his chair to the side of Jim's desk.

"Anyways," Jim began. "It's not like we can walk into the Darklands. We just saved the trolls and the rest of humanity by keeping the Killahead Bridge closed."

"I can't imagine what they'll do to us if they discover what we used to fetch for," said Toby, "which, by the way, Blinky and AAARRRGGHH! still don't know about."

Jim nodded. "Tobes is right. The fetch is one thing, but opening the Bridge again anytime soon will be damn impossible."

Claire resisted the urge to groan. Of course, they wouldn't understand, she thought, they didn't have siblings.

Her heart clenched. Enrique. Dios mio, her baby brother was in another dimension and she hadn't even noticed. She strummed her fingers across the chair's back. Looking at Notenrique in her brother's flesh hurt. And she couldn't tell her friends and family either. Every gurgle, every laugh, every bubble—it was fake. He was fake.

And, though she would never admit it, maybe she was a little bit too.

"But…this is my brother," she stressed. Noticing their lack of enthusiasm, she tried to add some humor. "Plus, the longer he's in the Darklands the longer I have to deal with Notenrique. Neither of you has to live with him. Do you know how many times I've had to change him? He's deliberately not using the toilet. Every time. Day and night." She shuddered. "He chooses the diaper."

"Kinky," Toby noted.

She glared.

"He's driving me up the wall!" She growled.

"I understand and we'll get him back," Jim said in a soft tone, "but you have to be patient. We can't risk releasing Gunmar."

Releasing Gunmar? What about releasing her baby brother? In her heart she knew the longer he was the harder it would be for them to get him back. Notenrique would overtake her brother's place in their family completely.

And how long did she have to be patient? A month? Two? A summer? A year? She couldn't wait that long.

"Ugh, admit it," she grumbled, "You're going to go back on your word."

He scowled. "Excuse me? I'm not."

"You so are." She turned around in her chair.

He moved closer. "I'm so not."

She looked him directly in the eyes, placing her pointer finger against his chest. "Are."

"Not," he said, grabbing the digit.

Books slammed against the front desk. Both jerked back.

"Lake! Nuñez!" Coach Lawrence hollered from the front room. "No kissy faces in class. All right everybody, butts in seats."

"I was not making a kissy face," she heard Jim mutter.

"Psh, sure you weren't," Toby said, rolling his eyes as he settled into his seat.

"Listen," Jim said after a moment of tense silence. "if it helps any, Blinky said we can bring you down."

Surprise overtook her anger. Seriously? She shifted her body to the side, a small smile forming.

"Down…you mean? To Trollmarket?" Her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, when? Are we going now?"

"After school," he promised.

"Jim's mom is coming too," Toby added. He gave her another long look. "Don't tell anyone else."

"Oi!" Coach Laurence motioned his arm at the group. "You three! What did I say?"

The three guilty teens muttered half-assed apologies as Coach started the class.

"Since Strickler's a no-show," he announced, stomping around the front of the room like he was giving a team a pep talk during halftime, "I'll be subbin in for ya. Now, I ain't much of a book learner myself, so I'll be incorporating some more practical stuff to your curriculum. Hey! Who through that paper ball? Was it you, Pepperjack? Detention!"

"But I didn't do anything," Pepperjack cried.

Claire opened her physics book. Well, this was going to be a shitshow. She could always use the extra period to study for her other AP courses. Mary giggled, gently nudging her shoulder.

"Geez, what was that with Lake?" She raised both brows, wiggling them mischievously. "You looked like you were about to dive right into him."

"We're just friends," she responded quickly. "End of story."

A friend she had a crush on, her mind provided. She hid her face behind her book. Yes, they had kissed and yes, they had confessed that they liked each other, but they hadn't gone any further than that on account of their own confused feelings (well, mostly hers really). And yet…

"Okay, people, pop quiz," Coach announced, stretching against different furniture in their class. "I hope all of you studied Communism because that's what the planner said was on the agenda. Now, who can tell me what happened in the year 1989? No takers? No, seriously, I don't remember. It was a crazy year. All I remember was pissing off some German wall and getting arrested."

Another paper ball flew through the air, hitting the teacher's chest.

The man was unamused. "Seriously, Palchuk?"