How many nights have been spent scribbling in a notepad while obsessively watching over security footage now, Toby wondered to himself? Probably way too many.

When he wasn't watching the live footage from their cameras on his laptop, he'd be playing the older footage at 20x speed, sometimes slower if he was really combing through for details. Every single time, he could feel a piece of his sanity agonizingly melt away, but he just couldn't help it. They must be missing something, there's got to be some sort of piece to this ridiculous puzzle that they're all overlooking. Why is it that one day, giant shadow portals and inexplicable magic phenomena can just terrorize everyone all over the place, all at once, constantly, but then they all just stop for months? Then, bam, Jim gets blindsided by a horrifyingly painful dose of more surprise magic weirdness.

They let their guards down, and Jim got hurt.

Toby took a deep breath in, exhaling it slowly. He looked down at his notes.

Around four months now since the Heartstone came back to life, and Angor Rot with it. Almost a full three months since any shadow portals have been sighted again. Around the same time those stopped, some Changelings became able to shift between their human and troll forms again. Then, another long stretch of no magical issues. Then, no more than a week ago appeared their most recent enigma, the fake Draal.

As much as Toby tried, he couldn't find any sort of pattern in terms of timing. Things just kept happening at random... Granted, each thing could just be happening in relation to however strong Morgana's getting in each moment, but…

Okay, getting back on track... So, the shadow portals. Could they have been used to bring this fake Draal here, maybe? If so, why is he only showing up now when the portals stopped a lot longer ago? And where did he come from, the Shadow Realm or the Darklands? What even IS fake-Draal? God, he was tired of asking the same questions over and over...

Okay. Maybe no correlation between fake-Draal and the portals, but he'd keep it circled as a possibility... So, moving on from those, does fake-Draal maybe have something to do with what happened to Jim? Those two things happened pretty close together time-wise...

Toby pulled up the minimal footage they had of this Draal again. It was very short, and the video was crackly as all hell, but it was clear to see that whatever this thing was, it had a very real physical presence.

It looked just like Draal. Moved like Draal. But it wasn't Draal.

Toby closed out of that file. It still stung him to look at.

... So, maybe that thing has some sort of… magical radiation or something? What if Jim being so close to him- it... triggered some sort of weird reaction? Or what if it's a sorcerer in disguise, casting spells from a distance? Or…

Grumbling in frustration, Toby banged his head on the table, almost forgetting the whole 'don't wake anyone up' vibe he had going on. After several moments of listening, Toby concluded that the lack of sound from anywhere in the house meant he was probably still in the clear. Back to focusing on his absolute rage.

This was just like Morgana, wasn't it? She always did seem to get a real kick out of toying with her enemies…

To Toby, this stretch of silence on Her part wasn't giving him reason to relax, it was just stressing him out even more.

Who knew silence could be so terrifying?

"I bet you just love making us feel so helpless, don't you?" Toby muttered to himself.

The lamp next to him flickered immediately as he spoke, and Toby nearly jumped right out of his chair.

Hell. He's getting really paranoid, isn't he.

Toby sighed a heavy sigh that would've come out as a frustrated yell were it not three in the morning. He rubbed at his tired eyes.

Just a little while longer, he told himself. He'd take a break in just a few minutes… maybe a small nap, too. His eyes were burning a tad worse than he could usually stand.

.

"Toby! Jim made omelettes!"

Toby jerked awake to the sound of Claire's call, falling out of the chair of which he fell asleep at.

Well... he thought he went to bed last night...

The minor pain he'd felt from his tumble almost immediately faded from his mind as he caught the scent of Jim's famous egg white manchego omelet wafting in the air. That alone was enough to motivate anybody to drag themself out of such a droopy slumber.

He lazily managed to drag himself out of his room, lugging his laptop along with him.

Toby was greeted by the welcoming sight of his four friends all talking and laughing together. Even if he felt like the world might fall apart any minute, this sight was one he'd never get tired of. Making his way to the table, he took a seat next to Aaarrrgghh.

"Ah, good morning, Tobias." Blinky greeted, though his cheery demeanour shifted slightly into the realm of concern when he actually laid eyes on him. "Or so I hope…?"

"Geez, and I thought I looked bad." Jim said upon seeing him, bringing a plate over from the kitchen.

"Har-dee-har," Toby mock-laughed. "Gimme those delicious omelets before I pass out."

From the living room, Aaarrrgghh had peeked in at them, frowning at Toby in particular. "Not enough sleep again…"

Shrugging it off, Toby replied as nonchalantly as he could manage. "Nahhh, I just need to inject some coffee into my bloodstream and I'll be good to go." He joked.

Jim joined his friends at the table, not with a plate of food, but with handfuls of old cutlery. Claire and Toby shared a confused look.

"Uh, Jim…" Claire tried to get his attention, but Jim had still been focused on pushing his point to Toby.

"Aaarrrgghh is right, Tobes." Jim kept talking. "You've been staying awake so much that your eye bags have eye bags."

Toby would've loved to point out that Jim often did the same thing throughout most of his Trollhunter training, but he was more concerned with the fact that Jim was currently about to eat a fistful of spoons.

"Dude, Jimbo, don't-!"

But Jim had already crunched down on the silverware. He immediately regretted his mistake.

He dropped the cutlery, making a noise that could only be equated to what a keyboard smash must sound like out loud, then garbling, "Oh my god I'm an idiot, my poor teeth-"

"You didn't break any, did you?" Claire asked, partially laughing, but still genuinely concerned. Toby began reciting his dentist's contact information.

"No no, I'm fine, that was just a really horrible sensation…" Jim assured, rubbing his jaw. "I forgot I have a human mouth agai-" He paused. "... Wait…" His eyes went wide, pupils dilating as realization dawned on him. "OH MY GOD, I CAN EAT REAL FOOD!"

Jim bolted back into the kitchen to make himself the proper breakfast he deserved.

"... Has he not eaten anything since his transformation?" Blinky wondered with growing concern.

"I think he mostly just chugged an expired Yop and then passed out for ten hours." Claire answered, also slightly concerned.

Watching his best friend happily make himself a proper breakfast should've cheered Toby up more than it currently did. But his mind was too preoccupied. He suppressed the sigh that wanted to come out of his mouth by shoving a forkful of omelet in there.

Claire was paying too much attention for him to successfully hide his stress, though. "We could ask Angor what he thinks after breakfast, if you want?"

"Ehh... I dunno…" Toby sighed. "I feel bad about badgering him with Morgana stuff…"

"He wants to help, T.P." Claire pointed out. "Even if he might not have many answers, it wouldn't hurt to hear his thoughts on it. Does anybody know where he's gone?"

"Took a walk through town, I believe." Blinky answered, Aaarrrgghh nodding a second confirmation.

"Saw him leave." Aaarrrgghh said. "Not long ago."

Toby nodded in acknowledgement of those words, taking another bite of omelet to avoid saying anything more.

.

It was a long time since Angor had been presented with this much time to himself. On one hand, it was a relief to have more space away from everyone for a while. As much as he's grown fond of the Trollhunters, he still didn't handle larger, loud groups well for very long. Much to his appreciation, they understood and respected that.

On the other hand, he'd grown used to at least having Dictatious's company. It felt... off, not having him there. Even if there were times where the little troll was obnoxious or petty, Angor actually didn't mind having his company. In some strange way, he had come to enjoy it. Of course, that was before their recent spat…

Besides, Dictatious had been acting strangely since the last time they talked, seeming dead set on avoiding him for the time being regardless. So, Angor got the impression that similar feelings of apprehension were shared by the Conundrum.

... Angor Rot couldn't quite pinpoint the moment when Dictatious started taking up so many of his thoughts. He found himself now having to make a conscious effort to suppress those.

In doing so, he took notice of, surprise surprise, two infuriatingly familiar teenagers cautiously approaching him from across the street.

They had their phones out, pointed at Angor for some reason he didn't know, and they were whispering to each other as they drew closer. Before either of them had a chance to start blabbing at Angor directly, the troll turned to face them with a very annoyed glare.

"What do you want this time?"

His hostility was met with a similar response in turn, though to their credit, they did seem much more cautious of him this time around, keeping their distance and intensely watching his every move.

"What? We're just walking, too." One of them - Kyle, if he was remembering the names correctly - had said.

"Yeah, you got a problem with us spending time in our own town?" The other one followed up. Brody, was it? Angor Rot honestly hadn't cared enough to bother keeping track of these annoying whelps.

"Do you two have actual lives to live, or are all your days spent aimlessly stalking trolls you don't know?" Angor growled bitterly at them. Perhaps he was spending too much time around Dictatious, letting his pettiness rub off on him like that…

"If you don't wanna be stared at, then you shouldn't go outside!" Brody shot back. "Isn't that your kind's 'thing'? Staying underground and holed up all the time?"

"Six feet underground would be a perfect place for them." Kyle chimed in this time. "Not before you replace the paintball gun you owe me, though!"

"I owe you nothing." Angor Rot flatly replied. "If you don't want your toys destroyed, then you shouldn't shoot at sorcerers with them."

He kept walking. They kept following, going on with their tedious chatter. As much as Angor was tempted to scare them off, he opted for ignoring them instead. Something about the way they were talking and acting, it seemed more purposeful than before, like they were trying to get a bad reaction out of him... It gave Angor the impression that they wanted to egg him on into doing something rash. For whatever reason, he didn't know, but he wouldn't allow himself to be baited by the foolish whelps.

As he weighed his options of how to get rid of these two a different way, another pair of teenage boys entered the picture, rather loud and ungracefully.

"HEY, BOZOS!"

The angry shout put Angor even more on edge, but when he turned his focus to its source, he saw that the newcomer was addressing the other humans, not himself.

A tall (for a human child) blonde boy wearing all-black attire, protective headgear of some sort, and matching black stripes on his face stormed right over to the other humans. He was closely followed by a much smaller teen who appeared to be gliding somehow, more like a stick in terms of his build, but wearing the same attire and angry expression.

"What do you think you're doing with those?" The larger of the pair demanded to know, gesturing to the phones the other two were holding.

"Uh, who cares?" Brody countered, his tone blunt.

"Wanna hear my theory?" The smaller newcomer asked, not waiting for an answer, "I think they're trying to pull some kind of racial hoax."

"Methinks you might be right, Pepperbuddy." The first boy crossed his arms.

"Dude, chill. It's none of your business-"

"Uh, shut up." The blonde cut him off. "You losers whine to me about these 'big, dangerous trolls' that keep 'attacking you for no reason'..." he continued, making heavy use of air quotes, "... and yet here you are, trying to provoke some guy into doing shit so you can... what, 'catch them on video'? Yeah, it's my business when you tried to use me in your dumb, borderline-hate-crimey game!"

"Oh my god, stop being such a-"

"We've fought creepers ten times your size and I am not afraid to throw hands with God!" The one in glasses cut them off this time with his declaration, throwing out strange karate-like poses. "Leave the troll alone, or suffer the consequences!"

"And trust me, you do NOT want to mess with a guy in zip-slippers." His friend added on, crossing his arms.

Getting the sense that they wouldn't be getting their way anytime soon, Brody and Kyle finally backed off, reluctant as they were about it. "Whatever, weirdos…" Kyle muttered, shaking his head at the taller of the two. "I remember when you used to be cool."

At that, Kyle was immediately laughed at. "I know I'm still cool." The self-assured teen shot back, not bothered in the slightest. "Now piss off."

Finally, they stormed off in a bitter huff, mumbling to each other as they went.

Angor has... no idea what to make of the events that just transpired. Still uncertain of this pair's intentions, he kept a suspicious eye on them as they both turned his way. The larger one started to speak, at first asking if he was okay, but that thought got sidetracked when he got a better look at the troll.

"Oh wait, I recognize you!" He turned his attention to his small friend while gesturing dramatically to Angor Rot. "See, Eli? That's the freaky forest dude!"

"Steve!" Eli gasped, "Don't be rude!"

"Oh." Upon hearing those names, Angor let himself relax somewhat. He'd only heard them maybe once or twice in passing, but he recognized them well enough to know they're not troublesome. "You're friends of the Trollhunters."

"Pssh, more like valued allies! Oh wait, no, we're like the Trollhunters' heroes!" Steve proclaimed as his chest puffed out with pride. "We saved their butts a bunch of times!"

"Steve." Eli didn't have to do much more than say the name and give Steve a scolding look to get him to cut his exaggerations short. This one, he was definitely used to that taller boy's behaviour.

Addressing Angor himself now, Eli squeaked, "We're really sorry about Brody and Kyle. They keep trying to cause trouble with the trolls around here..."

"I have noticed." Angor said with a voice drier than the sunburnt sidewalk they stood on, glancing off in the direction of where his harassers went. His annoyances were not towards these two, however, so his tone was better-natured when he spoke to the teens directly. "You don't need to apologize for them. They don't speak for you, clearly."

"Oh, you've got that right!" Steve immediately doubled down on that. "Trolls are definitely cool in our books."

"Do you want a couple of escorts through town?" Eli suddenly offered to him. "The Creepslayerz are at your service!"

Looking from Steve to Eli and back, Angor mostly just felt very perplexed by them at this point. "I... appreciate the offer, but there is no need for that." He replied. "I would prefer to be alone."

The boys looked at each other, and Steve shrugged. "Whatever you say, dude. We'll go keep an eye on those buttsnacks, then!" He announced. "Right, Pepperbuddy?"

Eli extended his hand in a c-shape towards his friend. "Creep…"

"Slayerz!" Steve finished, doing the same motion. Then they both made dramatic exploding noises as they drew their hands away.

In the same manner as they had entered the scene, Steve dutifully marched away with Eli wheeling after him.

… Every time he meets a new human, even for such a short amount of time, Angor Rot felt like he was understanding less and less about them.

But at least those ones meant well. And they did help Angor get his solitude back, so that automatically leans them towards his good graces.

.

When eventually Angor made his way to the Lake household, he found Toby and Claire waiting for him, bearing more questions about the Pale Lady. He had wondered when they might bring that topic up again.

Toby ended up rambling on about his worries for way longer than he'd originally intended. Claire was mostly quiet to give Toby the opportunity to vent, both because he kind of needed it, and partially because she'd very much wanted to try and scope out her suffering friend's mental state right now…

Angor Rot stayed quiet as well, occasionally nodding with each concern Toby voiced. The irregularity of all these inconsistencies and dangerous circumstances would be enough to make anyone feel restless.

"Ugh, I'm sorry for dumping all this on you, I just…" Toby rubbed his eyes, sighing heavily, "I just hate always feeling like there's nothing we can do."

"Your concerns hold genuine weight." Angor assured him. Crossing his arms, his eye flicked to the side. "... She is clever and conniving, but She takes great pleasure in toying with Her prey. Causing you as much stress and confusion as She has sounds like something She would do very deliberately."

That didn't give Toby much confidence, from the way his shoulders drooped.

"... I would suggest double-checking with those you trust in the Janus Order about this." Angor said after some careful thought. "They might know of any worrisome Changelings who may still be loyal to Her, or perhaps have overlooked some detail last time."

"That's a good idea." Claire said, then suggesting to Toby, "We could talk to Strickler about this stuff again when he's done helping Jim today."

"How has the Trollhunter been faring with his transformations so far?" Angor asked out of curiosity.

"So far, pretty well, I think?" Claire answered. "It's hard to say for sure, since it hasn't been very long yet, but they've been working really hard on getting the form-shifting to be less... well, terrifying and painful?" She shrugged slightly, attempting to mask the look of worry that crossed her face at that thought. "Overall, he's been taking things pretty well... I'm pretty sure Jim cried literal tears of joy when he ate that omelet this morning."

"I mean, have you tried his cooking? It is definitely tear-worthy." Toby pointed out very matter-of-factly.

Shifting back to the topic at hand, Toby wrote something down in his notebook, then got Claire's attention. "I'm gonna go catch up on the security feeds. Can you see how Mr. Strickler and Jimbo are doing?"

"Sure thing."

With that, they said their goodbyes to Angor, and went their own ways.

Toby tried not to feel too disheartened. He couldn't give Morgana the satisfaction of falling for Her mind games.

Still, at the same time, it just felt like they were going in circles, checking the same things, looking under all the same rocks... but he had to convince himself it was a better option than doing nothing.

.

Angor didn't much bother with leaving the Trollhunter's house just yet. It had been another rare time in which the lower level of the house had been free of any others, so it was a fine place to remain for a while and carve another totem for his growing collection. So long as the Familiar's current sitters stayed upstairs, of course.

Many times, he found himself carving slower than usual, even stopping completely to stare at the knife in his hands. It's not as though he'd become unnaccustomed to holding it in the short period he'd been without it. But that gem embedded in the handle... his own eye, no less... it kept distracting him.

Not the eye itself, but the meaning behind it. He kept hearing the Trollhunter's words in the back of his mind, like a lingering afterthought that wouldn't go away.

We trust you.

A deep frown overtook his face.

The assassin paused his carving yet again when he heard the front door open, the noise drawing his gaze. Barbara had come home from work still running on autopilot, walking right past Angor without addressing him. Assuming she had seen him, Angor simply went back to his work.

She got to the sink, rinsed her travel mug clean of coffee remnants, turned around to grab a towel, and visibly jumped when Angor Rot's presence finally registered in her brain. "Oh-!" She gasped, there being a split second in which she instinctively reached for her pepper spray, but she was quick to stop herself when the shock wore off. "Oh, sorry, sorry, didn't see you there…"

There was another split second in which she had cast a cautious glance at Angor's knife.

Angor stared at her a moment, then pocketed his knife to put her mind more at ease, or so he intended. "It's your own house." He pointed out. "You don't need to apologize."

Nodding slowly, Barbara reached for a towel again, making a mental note to stop staring at him like he was about to stab her. "... So, ah, how have you been?"

She got a puzzled look from him for that. "... Fine…" He answered, squinting slightly at her. "If you want me to leave, I-"

"No, no, you're fine." She assured him. With a small nervous laugh, she added, "I'm not as great a target without that binding spell, I bet."

In her tired haze, she didn't realize right away that that might not've been the best thing to say. The silence on Angor's end communicated that to her a little too late, and she cleared her throat awkwardly.

"... Sorry, sorry, I…" She pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing harshly at her ill-tasting 'joke'. "I have… no idea why I just said that…"

"... It's alright." Angor assured her again. He couldn't really blame her for still being nervous of him - it's not like they've spoken much at all, and the only times they've really seen each other, Angor had been guilty of either threatening Strickler or throwing him a less-than-friendly look here or there. "I won't hurt your mate, if that's something that still worries you."

Barbara was quiet for some time before nodding slowly. "... I know... Thank you for that."

As strange as it may seem, given their history, Strickler had been the least of Angor's problems lately. With everything else he'd been dividing his attention between over these months, Angor had hardly even given him a spare thought lately.

But now that he was getting one, all it brought back was angering memories.

Barbara must have noticed the apprehension Angor had felt at what was just brought up. She bit her tongue. "... He really is sorry, you know…" She quietly said.

"I know." Angor rumbled back. He had often tried to tone down the bite in his voice when dealing with the allies that he had once hurt, but this topic was one in which he found difficulty managing his frustration. Still, he made a conscious effort to keep it under control. "I know that he's sorry, but that doesn't change what he did."

Rather than try and defend him, Barbara nodded along in agreement instead as she put away her dishes. "You're absolutely right. And you certainly don't have to forgive him for it."

Quietly, Angor watched her as she wandered the kitchen. It wasn't until she was about to head out again when he suddenly gave in to the urge to ask her, "Why did you forgive him?"

Stopping in her tracks, she looked Angor's way, saying nothing at first.

"He manipulated you, used you to get to your own son…" Angor went on. Why he was letting this all out now, after so long of avoiding this topic, he wished he knew. But something about her quiet, inquisitive stare, it just prompted him to keep talking, "How do you forgive that? How do you-" He gritted his teeth. "Why do all of you just decide to forgive so many enemies that have wronged you so many times?"

His questions, harsh as they may have seemed, weren't coming from a place of malice. This wasn't some attempt to sow seeds of mistrust into their family, or anything of that sort. This was coming from a place of genuine confusion and, from the sounds of him, a touch of inner conflict he'd been holding onto for quite some time.

Barbara took her time in answering, looking to the side in thought. "Well, because... you've all proven that you've changed since then." She said plainly.

The look on Angor's face shifted, looking even more bewildered than before. How she could put such confidence in that statement after everything...

A silence hung between them for several moments. While Angor tried to make sense of her words, Barbara casually looked around the kitchen.

"... Would you like some tea?"

The sudden question pulled Angor out of his thoughts. He glanced Barbara's way, bemused. "What?" Confusion only growing from there, Angor frowned as she went ahead to fill the kettle. Why she'd willingly spend more time near a troll that had scared her so, he couldn't figure out. "You... don't have to do that."

"Don't worry," She said, a joking half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "I've been told that anything these hands whip up tastes great to trolls."

"That's not what I mea…" Angor didn't bother finishing that thought when Barbara gave him one quick, but firm reassuring look. Slowly, he started to realize that her intention wasn't coming from a place of fear, but rather, it was an offering of peace. One that would likely be rude to refuse. "... Alright, then…" He conceded under his breath.

.

Tea is an ancient beverage. One that has traversed through many centuries and travelled through many civilizations, and has many different ways of preparation. Angor Rot, while not an expert of the drink himself, has still at least tried it before, long ago. Maybe this was a newer method of preparing the beverage, but Angor Rot had literally no idea how she managed to make a water-and-leaf-based drink become thick and pulpy. But he must admit, she was correct about the taste appealing to troll tastes.

Barbara had prepared something different for herself. 'Instant hot chocolate', she called it.

"So, how's the tea?" She asked, testing a hesitant smile at him. "Any good?"

She got a nod in response.

"Well, I'm glad someone appreciates it." Barbara said with a slight laugh. "I think Walter just about choked on it when I first made some for him."

For a second there, Angor actually cracked the ghost of a smile at that comment. Sure, it was likely only because it involves Strickler's mild suffering, but Barbara would take what she can get.

She took a nice, slow drink out of her own mug, then sighed. "... I'm sure the kids would agree when I say, forgiveness and trust aren't things we hand out to just anybody."

Leaning forwards so very slightly, Angor paid close attention as Barbara spoke, completely quiet.

"People like you, Strickler, Nomura... you've all caused the kids and I a lot of pain." There was no need to sugar-coat what Angor already knew. "But... we know that you've all been through so much pain yourselves. You've made conscious decisions to do bad things, it's true. But you were all forced into situations that led to it. Sometimes, people say or do certain things because… well, it's how they've been conditioned. We can't just ignore the abuse you've all gone through... Take Walter and I, for example." Barbara paused, taking a drink. "... Trust me, things may look fine between us now, but it took time and effort. There was still anger, and turmoil, and broken trust... He hurt us in ways that can't just... go away." Sighing, she averted her gaze to the side, idly stirring her tea. "Even now, we both still have some insecurities about everything that's happened. But Walt, he's... he's really trying. He's becoming a better person each day."

Still, Angor Rot found himself struggling to understand. "How can you be so sure when he's damaged your trust once already?"

There was a light chuckle from Barbara at that. "Well, we had a long talk... He'd finally apologized, for one thing." Something in her eyes changed, a wistful haze clouding them much like the milk in her drink. Then, a second small laugh left her lips. "You know, sometimes, there are just moments when you can really tell someone's being genuine. No facades being held up, no shields they're hiding behind, just... He opened himself up to me in such a heartfelt, sincere way... We talked about everything. Every regret and every insecurity, we just let everything out that we needed to. It was... the first time I'd actually seen him cry, to be honest..." She trailed off again, going quiet.

It was… difficult for Angor to picture the side of Strickler that Barbara was describing. At the same time, he couldn't help but think back on the Changeling's apology to him... He still had to admit, it did seem genuine...

"... People react to trauma and abuse in many different ways. Sometimes, people don't even realize that something from their past was traumatic. All these things should be considered when you're trying to understand how someone else is behaving, or when you're debating whether to forgive someone or not." Barbara tried to explain as thoroughly as she could for him. "I suppose I was quicker to accept Walt again because, through a professional lens, I could understand why he acted the way that he did. I've seen enough victims of abuse to know how it can manifest in a person and warp them like that." Quieter, she admitted, "Though this was to a new extreme, of course…"

Given the circumstances in question, with trolls like Gunmar involved, that much could be expected.

"Anybody can become unfortunate enough to fall into a cycle of abuse…" Barbara continued, her fingers drumming against the side of her mug as she watched Angor carefully. "... what matters is learning from those mistakes, breaking that cycle, and striving to become better. Walter has made mistakes that have hurt all of us, but that's not who he is anymore. He wants to be better than the people that hurt him, and he's always working towards that goal." With a bit more hesitance this time, she turned that talking point to Angor again. "And, I mean... that's something you've been working towards too, isn't it?"

Angor broke eye contact for a moment, looking off to the side. It was the first physical reaction she'd gotten out of him in a while. After taking a slow drink from his mug, Angor eventually answered her. "... I suppose you could say that."

"The ability to move past that trauma, to not let it control who you are, that's what matters most." She restated her point with both compassion for the troll, and determination to be understood by him. Lowering her head ever so slightly, she made sure to hold eye contact with him, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's always a difficult road. Some people find the strength to take it easier than others do, and that's okay. Some people need help finding their way, and that's okay. Not everyone can move forwards at the same pace... What matters is having the will to move forward at all."

For the longest time, Angor Rot felt unable to do much else than stare at her with the strangest look on his face. In that moment, he felt the small spark of respect he'd already had for Barbara suddenly grow into a deeper reverence than he ever could've anticipated.

The moment was cut short by the loud ringing of a cell phone in Barbara's pocket. Upon checking the device, she let out a tired sigh. "Emergency at the hospital." She explained, quickly getting up from her seat. "I need to go. Sorry to dash on you."

"Don't be." Angor replied. He was baffled enough at how Barbara gave him so much of her time already. "And... Thank you."

She gave him another smile as she donned her coat and purse once more. Just as she was on her way out the door, Barbara paused. "... Jim doesn't hand out second chances to just anybody, you know. He gives them to people who truly deserve it, and that's not a judgment he makes lightly." She said to him. "He sees in you somebody that wants to move forwards."

With those parting words, she left the house to return to her work, leaving the assassin to be alone with his thoughts.

And Angor had to admit, Barbara has just given him much of those to think about.