At long last here we are at the last chapter! I'm so sorry it's taken so long. Mostly, I was hung up on getting it just right and stressing over how best to give it a good stand alone ending that would also pave the way for future installments. With the next season pending arrival in just a few weeks I had to make myself stop worrying so much about falling short and to just hope for the best so that you guys could get this before all the new canon stuff comes out. I've already got the next fic for this AU named and outlined. Wherever the Roads May Run, coming to a site near you!
This chapter is dedicated to my friends editoress and lafemmedefxndom who have played a integral role in the writing of this story. Stay tuned for the ending note for even more heartfelt thank-yous for the various others who've reviewed and helped shape this fic.
"Would someone mind explainin' what we're doin' here, exactly?"
"We're here to grab as many books and important looking bits as we can to try and find the cure for Wingman! We only just found out that he's been dealing with that Creeper's Sun stuff since the night we visited the Quagawumps!" Toby informed the small green head that was mostly obscured by a hedge.
"Huh. Nasty stuff. Well, hurry it up! I'm on a tight schedule."
The window they needed to go through happened to be right above the bush Notenrique had chosen to take cover in. According to Strickler, it was always left unlocked in case of visitors like Angor Rot who couldn't feasibly use the front door.
As Jim carefully worked on opening the window, the changeling conversationally asked, "How come you always call 'im Wingman?"
"You know, like, your best bud! Your look-out, the guy you fly with! 'Never, never leave your wingman' - haven't you ever seen Top Gun?"
"Never even heard of it."
Toby gasped and dramatically clutched his chest, "But it's a classic!"
"Guys, could we focus, please? Strickler said there might be spies or traps, we can talk about boring 80s movies later."
"B- Boring! Jim! I've never felt so betrayed in my life!"
"It's not even your favorite movie!"
"But it's a classic!"
"Focus! Okay, we're in. Eyes sharp, let's get this over with."
Double checking to make sure there were no immediate observers, Jim hefted himself up onto the casing. Cautiously, he leaned into the familiar office to look for anything that might be out of place. All was quiet. Nothing looked any more menacing or unusual than it typically did so he carefully lowered himself into the room.
"The coast clear?" Toby was already pulling himself up with a grunt, not waiting on an answer. Notenrique scampered in ahead of him by using his claws to climb further up the wall and enter upside down with a flourish.
"Don't smell like nothin's here," the changeling announced. "Jus' the stuff-shirt's usual funk of fancy cologne an old books. Don't reckon anyone's thought to come here, yet."
"You're sure?"
"Not really. Got a pretty reliable snout, though, an usually goblins 'n such ain't subtle. Aside from Strickler, the only other smells are Angor and Otto an those are days old."
"Aw, man. What a let down," Toby sighed as he readjusted his shirt from where it had ridden up during his climb. "Well, not a let down, I guess. Totally a good thing, but a little anti-climatic, ya know?"
Jim rolled his eyes and made his way over to the book case. He was used to his friend's antics by now. "We still need to be careful. Just because they haven't been here yet doesn't mean they won't come before we're out."
"Or the janitor. How lame would that suck to be caught by the staff after all the hype about the Order and assassins?"
Jim gave a half-hearted chuckle in response but he was still on edge. His mind was now worrying over how things might be going for Claire since they weren't running into any resistance. The fact that things were going smoothly felt more stressful than if they had been met with a fight.
Reflexively, he summoned his armor and gripped Daylight's hilt tight as Notenrique placed the key into it's slot and the bookcase rumbled to life. Unconcerned, Toby pulled three wrinkled trash bags out of his pocket and walked by him. As he fluffed one of the bags open he looked over his shoulder.
"You coming, dude? The coast is as clear as it's going to get. Notenrique can go stand guard." He then turned back to their task. "Think we should take that map?"
Regaining his focus, Jim shook his head and walked fully into the alcove. "It looks way too big. Half the pins would fall out if we tried." He accepted a bag from Toby and began sweeping random papers off the table into it.
Toby nodded his head and pulled out his phone. "Ta-da! The joys of modern technology. Super secret changeling map accounted for. Oh! This looks neat!"
O-_-o-_-O
"You live in an apartment?"
"There's something about that that amuses you?"
Claire shrugged and shook her head as she closed the portal behind them, "I had been expecting some secluded house out away from people, maybe in the woods somewhere. Better for hosting evil meetings and such. Apartment complexes don't really allow for trap doors and menacing basements."
Strickler laughed, "True, which is what makes them so appealing. Hosting evil meetings is one of the very things I was avoiding by choosing this place to call home. I do enjoy my privacy and if I had a house outside the city Bular would have moved right in on top of me. Being a minion of a dark lord was very much something I wanted kept separate from other areas of my life. Having neighbors on either side of one's flat significantly cuts down on unwanted visitors."
"Well, that certainly didn't stop whoever did this," Claire said with a note of apology in her tone.
The apartment was in ruins.
Stuffing from the overturned furniture littered the floor and claw marks ran along the wallpaper in random patches. Worst of all, in her opinion, were the scattering of books all over the apartment. It looked like a library had exploded and then vomited the remains all into one room. Not all of the volumes were torn or broken and the teen reached for the closest survivor. She nearly dropped it in shock when she opened the cover.
"This- this is a first edition! A Virginia Woolf first edition!"
"A large portion of my library were first editions or else other very rare collectables. Those absolute bastards. That collection took years of work. It's a terrible shame." His delivery sounded calm but his jaw was clenched and his eye twitched slightly as he looked over what remained of his bookshelves.
"These are coming too," Claire told him decisively as she tucked the book up under her arm and began working her way further into the apartment.
"We don't have time for-"
"Nope! We have totally got time for this. Don't even pretend like you don't want to try and save them, too. I'll just grab a few pillowcases off your bed to carry them. It won't even be that many more things! We came for books and scrolls, what's a few more?"
The changeling gave a half smile and dipped his head in agreement, grateful that she was insisting they not be left behind. As he reached down to start digging through the debris he heard her laugh from the direction of his bedroom.
"Why do you have so many pillows!?"
"We are on a time sensitive mission, let's not get distracted with unimportant details. Besides, I don't have that many."
"Well not anymore you don't. But, from what I can tell of the remains, you had at least fifteen, which is twelve too many if you ask me. Notenrique also likes to hoard bedding, is it a changeling thing? Here, these didn't have any huge tears in them."
Strickler declined to take the pillowcase she offered and instead handed her a small stack of books he'd scavenged. He then pulled out another pen from his pocket and said, "No, you go ahead and gather up what you can find. Meanwhile, I'll nab what we came here for. Apartment flats may not offer any menacing basements but with time and creativity, secret rooms can be constructed."
He quickly made his way into the kitchen and inserted his key into what otherwise looked like an ordinary wall. A small click sounded and a sliding door revealed itself and shifted back. As soon as he stepped inside he swore loudly.
"What?"
Burned them all, you said? If you're still alive, don't worry, I'll take care of them for you.
"Otto."
"What?" Claire asked again. She joined him in the kitchen with the now bulging pillowcases dangling in her grip. "How did he get in there if you've got the key?"
"Like any lock, it can be picked, it just needs a changeling to do it." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth as he crumpled up the note. "This is highly inconvenient."
"He wouldn't destroy them, would he? I mean, couldn't he have just done that here?"
"He likely thinks he can ransom them back to me. 'If I'm still alive' he says. Otherwise, I'm sure he would find some other use for them. He has always been an opportunist." He tossed Otto's wadded note towards the direction of the trashcan. He realized halfway through the motion that it was a futile gesture as the can in question was on its side and split in two. Honestly, it was insult to injury to make such a mess.
He was halfway turned around to leave when a shifting, fluttering noise caught his attention. He straightened immediately and strained his ears to better catch the sound. It suddenly occurred to him that if Otto had been the only one to break in, his house would not have been so needlessly ransacked. In a flash he switched to his troll form.
Without missing a beat, Claire dropped the sacks of books and held the shadow staff at the ready. Strickler found himself impressed with her reflexes but shifted her foot with his own as he moved behind her to guard her back.
"Widen your stance for better balance."
"What is it? Is there someone else here?"
"I'm not sure, ju- oh. Lovely." He snarled as he plucked several knives from his collar.
"What!?"
"Tooth fairies."
Claire nearly lowered her weapon in confusion, "Come again?"
"Tooth fairies. Don't let the name fool you, they are more closely related to goblins than true fairies and they are extremely vicious creatures. There!" Before he could slip into an accidental lecture about them, he spotted the first few pushing the cover off an air vent to crawl into the room. Blades skewered the initial wave of the creatures but more were quickly taking their place and more still were starting to swarm in from other areas of the house as if answering a sudden call to arms. They spilled from the vents and slipped out of the furniture like a parody of the locust plague.
"Ah! What the heck!" Claire dodged one as it buzzed past her head and then smacked another out of the air, wielding the staff like a baseball bat.
"Can you get us out of here?"
"We can't just leave! There's got to be over two hundred of these things, what about your neighbors!"
"We're lucky there aren't more!"
Reacting on reflex she stomped on one as she struggled to keep her balance while more of them circled around her head. She swatted with the staff but it was hard to aim for so many small targets with such a narrow weapon.
"Ow! Shit! They bite!"
She stomped on another and gagged as she looked down at the mess she was making. She didn't even like to squish spiders and these things were much larger than even the biggest arachnid she knew of. She looked over to her former teacher who had abandoned throwing knives and was simply slashing at them midair with his claws.
"You're going to need something besides that staff if you want to stay and fight," the changeling said between lunges. He reached over quickly and pulled one off the back of her shirt before it could get a better grip. His own stone skin made it much harder for the fairies to find purchase but they were relentless in their frenzy.
Ignoring him, Claire slapped five more out of the air before sprinting to the overturned kitchenette table and pulling it over her arm like a shield. Hunkering down behind it, she smashed her elbow against the counter and squished another in the process. Several of the tooth fairies had time to latch onto her pants and jacket sleeve as she paused in her movements long enough to draw in a deep, focused breath.
It took several seconds longer than usual to summon her concentration as the little winged monsters scratched at any piece of flesh they could reach, but she managed to succeed.
"Yes!" Claire gave a breathless cheer as a portal opened in the center of the room.
"Aim for that!"
A number of the tooth fairies immediately flew into the dark mass unprompted, whether from lack of coordination or curiosity and Claire laughed as she began to knock as many as she could towards it.
Several frantic minutes later, Claire and Stickler stood panting heavily in an empty and quiet kitchen as the portal closed. The last of the creatures gave an offended squeak as the changeling crushed it underfoot and then tried to wipe it off against a remaining clean patch of tile. Claire made another gagging sound as he did nothing more than succeed in smearing the slime around.
Strickler gave a shrug and shifted back into is human skin which was miraculously free of guts and grime. Claire wrinkled her nose in envy as she observed her own gore splattered clothes. It couldn't be helped.
"Are you alright?"
"Just a couple of scrapes and a bite. Maybe two bites. Holy shit they sting. Must be nice being made out of rock."
He fought his inner teacher and refrained from scolding her language. She had more than earned the right to swear. Instead, he gave a dry laugh and answered, "It does come in handy from time to time."
He helped her remove a piece of wing from her hair then asked, "Where did you send them to?"
The girl's smile was positively devious as she answered, "To a certain troll in Argentina who has too big of an appetite. I took offense to almost being eaten, so it seemed like a fitting place for those annoying bugs to go."
"I tip my hat to your sense of spite," he answered with a fond chuckle. Along with Jim, Claire had been another of his more favored students. She had always been a clever girl and in this moment his dormant affection for her rose to the fore. Then, the full meaning of her statement registered and his eyes widened in surprise, "You were able to conjure a portal all the way from here to Gatto's Keep?"
"I'm pretty sure," she answered with a shrug. "When I make a portal, I can see the other side in my mind's eye even after I visualize where I want it to go. It certainly looked like I made it go there. Being in a fight like that made it easier to use the staff, it didn't resist me like it used to, if that makes sense."
"I see. I feel I should caution you, that staff focuses mostly on negative emotions like anger and hate. Make sure you are always the one in control when tapping into it, even for short periods of time. It is not uncommon for weapons to possess those who wield them if they are careless in their handling."
Claire nodded seriously. Toby had been the one to make the initial observation that she seemed to control it better when she was angry but she had suspected that the connection went deeper than that. It was reassuring to have that conformation.
"May I offer you some advice? Any strong emotion will work and if you can focus on a sense of protection instead of vengeance or violence it will lessen any potential threat to your psyche."
"I'll keep that in mind. Whoa! Watch out!" She had been about to pick the pillowcases of books back up when one of the bodies launched itself off the floor and flew towards them. She twirled the staff to adjust her grip before sweeping it down inches from Stricker's face. The hit flung the creature back to the ground and she brought the bottom of the staff down onto it with a grim finality.
"I guess it was only stunned earlier."
The changeling rubbed his hand over his face and cleared away the thin trickle of blood from his nose and cheek where the tooth fairy's claws had managed to swipe him. He frowned and looked down at the mess. They couldn't leave the apartment like this for some human to find. There was also the fact that it was hard to tell if any of the other little buggers might still be alive like that one had been. He sighed heavily in resignation.
"Go out into the hall and pull the fire alarm."
O-_-o-_-O
"And they call you Not-Enrique?" Barbara frowned as she opened the first aid kit and took out the antibiotic spray and bandages for Toby. The boy in question sat at the dining room table sulking over his injuries. Jim and been pulled down to the basement by Blinky to begin sorting through everything they had brought back from Walter's office. Draal and Aaarrrgghh had been pushed upstairs to make more room and were watching Barbara work.
"Eh, s'not that bad, really. I've been called plenty worse," the changeling answered. He was seated in the open portion of the room divider that enclosed the kitchen. He picked a small bit of something out of his teeth, looked it over briefly, then put it right back into his mouth.
Barbara made a face then turned back to Toby. Still addressing the changeling as she began cleaning the cut on the boy's palm she asked, "But don't you have an actual name?"
"Nah. Unless we pick 'em ourselves, changelings don't really get names."
"And you haven't picked one?" The changeling shrugged and her frown deepened. She made a mental note to ask Walt more about this topic later and if it would be wrong to suggest helping him pick a real name.
"There, all done. Honestly, I would have thought with all this trollhunting stuff you would know to be more careful about handling weapons."
"In my defense, all other display swords I've ever come across have been super dull and only meant to look cool," Toby said as he examined the neatly wrapped bandage.
"And you thought a sword in a secret changeling backroom was a display?" Draal shook his head in amusement.
"Ouch!" The conversation was halted as Barbara suddenly jerked to attention. She removed her glasses and gingerly touched her face. She bit her lip nervously when her fingers came away with blood on them. She turned to the others, "Does it look bad?"
"If it were any deeper it might leave a pretty badass scar," Toby said with an approving nod.
"It is hardly a scratch," Draal answered, being a bit more helpful.
"I hope Claire and Walter are alright. This makes me nervous," she said as she reached back into the first aid kit to start treating her own small wound.
She had been on edge when Jim and Toby had come back with blood on them until she had learned that it was only a minor self-inflicted accident. This scratch had felt deliberate and it sent her right back into fretting.
"Have any other pains followed?" Draal had shifted closer to better see the cut. When she shook her head he shrugged, "Then I would not worry."
"Thanks, but I'm going to anyway. I'm only tied to Walter, after all. He had better be looking after Claire if they've run into trouble."
"Damn right, he'd better!" The changeling was sitting up to attention now. Barbara found it immediately endearing that the concern on the small troll's face looked sincere.
"Do we know where Strickler lives? Should we go in as backup?"
Barbara shook her head in indecision. "I have his address but I don't know if we would even get there in time. Plus, I told him I would be here in case something went wrong, this will be where they come if there's a problem."
Toby slumped in his chair and frowned, "That makes sense I guess. I could call Claire and see if she answers?"
"Distraction," Aaarrrgghh told him with a shake of his head. "Fighting needs focus."
Barbara bit her lower lip as she resisted the urge to reach for her own phone. She knew fighting might be a possibility but not having any details left her feeling helpless. Before she could worry herself any further, a swooshing noise broke the tense quiet that had settled over the room.
From a horizontal disc of warped space, a pile of books and three lumpy pillowcases fell onto the floor. In less than a moment, a second, vertical, portal opened and Claire and Walter stepped through it. They both looked disheveled but otherwise relatively unharmed. Claire was clearly the worse for wear, being covered in some sort of slime, sporting several shallow cuts, and smelling vaguely of smoke.
"What happened to you? Get sneezed on by an ogre?" Toby asked in a roundabout way of making sure she was fine.
"Haha, funny. Apparently, tooth fairies are a thing. This would be tooth fairy guts."
"Oh, ew!"
Barbara wasted no time in emptying what remained of the first aid kit onto the table. None of the wounds she saw looked terrible but she wanted to get at them quickly to avoid infection.
"I didn't know there were even fairies still around after the war," Draal said as he shuffled to the side to try and make more space for them.
"They're more goblin than fairy. At any rate, war or not, not every species of fae went extinct those many years ago."
"Shakespeare?"
Everyone looked to Aaarrrgghh who had started to gently sort through the books that had been brought back. He held up an ornately bound leather tome with a questioning tilt of his head.
"Sorry, that's all literature and human writings. The library we needed had been broken into."
"Otto has them," Walter added with a long-suffering look towards the ceiling. "I know which motel he's been staying at. As soon as I've cleaned off I'll go get them."
"You look clean enough to me," Draal said while giving him a confused once-over.
"In this form."
"Speaking of," Barbara interrupted, "Claire, I want you to go take a shower. I've got a bathrobe you can change into while we see if that awful stuff will come out in the wash. When you're finished I'm going to take a closer look at those lacerations." She gestured towards the stairs.
"Oh hey! You're back! How did it go?" Jim asked as he came up from the basement. "Err, do I want to know what that is dripping onto the floor?" As he got closer and saw the red tint to some of the slime his eyes widened in concern.
"Probably not, dude," Toby answered him while pulling a face of disgust. "But, turns out there's now a part two. That Otto guy has the books we need."
"I'm fine, Jim," Claire said with a small smile as she batted his hand away. "Totally took care of it. Strickler even had my back!"
"It may be more accurate to say that you had mine," the man conceded with a wink. He then gave Jim a conspiratorial look and added, "You have some very quick thinking and formidable women in your life, Young Atlas. Perhaps you will come to learn that it's okay to start sharing your burdens, what with being in such capable company."
Jim made a face at the comment and Barbara shooed Claire towards the direction of the bathroom.
"Behave, you two," she warned as she followed after the younger girl, making sure not to step in the sticky trail Claire was leaving.
"Welp, this has been fun 'n all but I best be gettin' back to the house," Notenrique announced to the room. Now that he'd made sure that his 'sis' had made it back safely he felt no other reason to stay and risk blowing his cover. "Best of luck with ol' cabbage breath!"
O-_-o-_-O
"You should go ahead and go to work. I know what I'm dealing with when it comes to Otto, you don't need to worry," Walter told her as she uncoiled the water hose for him. While Claire had enjoyed a nice hot shower in the bathroom, Walter had chosen a more practical route for himself. In the shade of the house, away from any prying eyes, he shifted back into his troll form and a shudder of revulsion ran through him as he looked over the sticky mess the battle had left on him.
"This is the second time in under an hour I've been told not to worry. I'll tell you the same thing I told Draal, I'm going to worry anyway." She smiled at him in sympathy as she turned on the water. Then, she motioned for him to lean down so she could better reach the top of his head. He hesitated for a moment before giving into her soft, open expression.
"I'm sorry about your face," he blurted as he knelt in front of her. He had never experienced this sort of innocuous interaction while in his true skin and it was making him nervous. The feeling of her hands on him was nowhere near as nuanced in his troll hide but he shivered involuntarily as she worked a hand through the hair around his horns.
For her part, Barbara was enjoying the chance to actually explore this other side of him and it took her a moment before she registered what he had said. She pursed her lips and twitched her nose, feeling the slight sting of the cut that he was referring to.
"It's alright. It just took me by surprise, it didn't really hurt. It's small enough to easily make up a story if anyone asks about it." She smiled and gave a brief shrug. When he went to apologize again she placed her thumb over the nozzle of the hose and splashed him in the face with the resulting spray.
He gave a startled sputter and she cackled in delight.
Still grinning triumphantly, she assured him, "It's fine. Now, hold out your arms, we're going to get the rest of this off of you before I agree to go anywhere."
He rapidly blinked the excess water from his eyes and was grateful that his green parlor masked his blush. His heart gave a small skip as he marveled over her ability to be playful even with him looking as he did. If he wasn't already sure that he adored her, this would have settled it.
She distracted him before he could get too sentimental, "I thought you said Otto couldn't be trusted."
"I don't trust him. That's a good policy to have with all changelings, we've been over this already."
"I know. I'm just back to worrying. I don't want you walking into yet another trap."
"For this task, no trust is required."
O-_-o-_-O
It had taken some doing, but he had finally gotten Barbara to agree to go on to the hospital. While that conversation had been an eventual success, he had completely failed in the one directly following it wherein he had attempted to go after Otto on his own. He looked over his shoulder at the teenagers who were close on his heels and suppressed a sigh. Of course his words about sharing burdens had come right back to bite him.
At least he knew them to be capable fighters. Jim had already proven himself many times, and between his trip with Claire earlier to Toby's cheap shot back at the Bridge, he at least believed they would be able to hold their own and not get in his way if a fight broke out. He had learned not to underestimate them.
"I am going to ask that you three stay back, initially. You may not know the meaning of subtlety but it happens to be my forte. We don't want to reveal all of our gambits."
He expected the few grunts and protests but in the end he got his way. He gave a firm knock on the numbered door and braced himself. There was a thump from inside the motel room followed by a muffled swear.
"Holy shit, you actually survived."
Strickler raised a brow and tilted his head, "Your faith in me is fully appreciated."
The other changeling smiled without humor and opened the door a little wider. "You say that in joking but I would not have bothered with the books if I didn't think you would find someway to slither out of some simple traps. They aren't worth the risk of moving, otherwise. If I were to be caught with them when you were suppose to have gotten rid of them, how would that look?"
Strickler narrowed his eyes as he considered this answer. That sounded almost like a compliment.
"So, what's your angle?"
Otto shook his head and his smile took on a sharper edge, "What is your angle, mein Freund? Because it seems to me that you are more than just an unpredictable liability. One might go so far as to accuse you of being an outright traitor."
Unimpressed, Strickler folded his arms across his chest and with a subtle challenge asked, "And what might one do about such a supposition?"
Otto went to reply but paused in surprise. He grabbed the other man's hand before he could react or sidestep him.
"You're not wearing the ring!"
Strickler pulled his hand away quickly and cursed Otto's perceptive attention to detail. Several emotions flickered across the shorter man's face before settling into a confused glare.
"You drag me all the way to India for him and now you don't even have it anymore? How are you still alive?"
"It's a long story. Difficult though it may be to believe, I'm not actually in any danger from him. Now, back to the situation at hand: I want my books back."
"Not- Not in any danger!? From Angor Rot and that is not important? I am beginning to think that you have lost your mind completely. Perhaps the Janus Order is right to want you out of the picture."
Strickler took a threatening step forward and placed himself in the doorway so Otto couldn't try to shut him out. The other changeling braced himself but looked ready to back down.
"They haven't been able to take me out yet and I rather like my chances for any future attempts. Now, my books, please. If you really agree with the Order then this conversation is over and I have no reason not to kill you right now."
"Kill him? That's harsh, dude!"
"Who-?"
Strickler's face fell into his open palm, "I thought I told you three to stay behind."
"Way to go, Tobes," Jim whispered as he elbowed his friend lightly in reprimand for blowing their cover.
Any apprehension he might have felt over Strickler now forgotten, Otto leaned around his former colleague to see who had interrupted them. He looked up at the other changeling with a disbelieving scoff, "You're working with the Trollhunter? I guess there's no more need to question your loyalties."
Strcikler rolled his eyes, "Come now, Otto. We are survivors. Has the Janus Order ever given us anything but a headache where their loyalty to Gunmar is concerned? It's all well and good to follow a madman when you think doing so will ultimately spare you or let you gain some ill-gotten boon but is the rest worth it? I've come out the other side of two assassination attempts already and that's before anyone had any proof that I was actually a traitor."
"Precisely! Imagine how much worse things might get if it comes out that you've turned coat!"
Rubbing the bridge of his nose he said with an exasperated tone, "Listen to your own words for a moment. Two attempts on my life before confirmation of whether or not I had betrayed them. What possible motivation would I have to go groveling back now? The lines are very clearly drawn up by this point and so far I've landed on the side that has been overcoming every obstacle. The Trollhunter and his little entourage were doing well for themselves even when I was still an enemy."
"Ja, but we all knew you were never trying very hard to kill him, now where you? Couldn't have slipped him a bit of poison in his school lunch or put a dagger in the back on his way home one evening?"
"Yikes," Toby whispered under his breath as he looked between the two arguing changelings and his best friend.
"Ugh, this is taking way too long," Claire said with an impatient huff. "Are you going to give us the books or are we going to have a problem?"
"This does bring up an interesting proposition," Strickler said, reclaiming the lead in the conversation. "What are we to do with you now that you know who I've ended up aligned with? I'll be taking my library one way or another but where shall that leave you?"
Otto's brows drew together and he shifted his stance as if bracing for a fight, "Are we back to death threats already?"
Strickler snorted. Despite what the mood seemed to call for, he actually gave a dry laugh and rolled his eyes, "It's always death threats. You know as well as anyone we only mean them half the time. What do you say, are you going to follow me on one more crazy campaign? I promise this one has fewer mosquitoes than India and far fewer harpies than Crete."
"I think I missed something," Jim said with a small frown.
Otto's defensive posture melted away and he gave a muttered curse before moving out of the way of the door. "You are a walking train wreck, Stricklander. I hope you appreciate the shit I put up with for you."
"So… that's it? We're good to go?" Claire's question was rightfully skeptical.
"Don't get it wrong," Otto said with a shrug, "I would never put his life before my own. But, on the whole, we're basically friends. He's an insufferable prick but he's got a good nose for all this subterfuge nonsense. He's survived this long so I will take my chances with him until his luck runs out."
"Alright, Claire, let's have another portal and get these books reunited with the rest of my remaining collection. Come along Otto, you can play the part of our hostage."
"Oh good, and here I thought it might be something humiliating."
Strickler clapped him on the back with a knowing grin, "There's a good sport."
"I don't think I'll ever understand changelings," Toby observed with a small shake of his head.
O-_-o-_-O
With a tired groan, Barbara let herself in through the front door and shrugged off her coat. It was already late enough to count as the next day by the time she made it home for the night. She had been getting texts throughout her shift letting her know that nothing bad was happening in her absence. Staying in the loop had made it a little easier to be at work but it hadn't helped with her distracted mood. That distraction had taken an interesting turn around six in the evening.
"I had quite the unexpected patient today," she said conversationally to the two figures sitting in her living room. The room in question now looked like a bibliophile's dream come true. She ignored the untidy chaos of all the various book stacks and made her way further in.
Blinky gave a distracted grunt from the floor, too engrossed in his current reading to give a proper answer. From his spot on the recently delivered new sofa, Walt looked up and responded with a knowing, "Oh?"
"Mr. Levit was found at the city limits with his car crashed into a tree. He has understandable memory loss and no idea on if he was coming or going when he seemingly lost control of his vehicle."
Walter looked guileless as he nodded his head in interest.
She rolled her eyes, not buying his act for a moment, and added, "There was a suspicious lack of injuries for such a wreck. I had to do some real improv work to try and explain that away."
"Naturally, I didn't have him in the car when I drove it into the tree."
Barbara sighed as she plopped down onto the couch beside him. She tilted her head roughly to crack the joints in her neck before slouching into the plush cushions of the backrest. He put a sheet of paper in the book he was reading to mark his place and set it aside to give her his full attention.
"I feel like it might be setting the bar pitifully low to thank you for not killing someone but thanks. I'm proud of you."
Walter gave her a little wink and confessed, "I may not yet be able to claim goodness for goodness' sake but for your sake I am willing to try."
With a tired laugh she nodded, "I have to say, seeing him today was a very surreal feeling of relief and trepidation. I've always taken you seriously, especially since learning more details about this whole war thing, but filling out Levit's paperwork is when I really and truly made up my mind. It's far too easy to compartmentalize when one doesn't see the direct consequences... I won't lie, it was the first time I did feel a little bit afraid. After everything else, that must seem silly, huh? But it was suddenly all very real. What you're capable of."
She saw his posture stiffen. She reached over and took his hand, pulling it into her lap and running her fingers over his calluses.
"But I've seen what else you are capable of. You took care of Claire today, you're helping Jim save one of his friends, you took me seriously enough to do as I asked and gave back a troll his soul. Levit may have some lost time but he still has time. So, yes, I'm proud of you. I can tell you're trying."
Breathing out heavily through his nose, Walter felt himself beginning to relax again. He was sure his heart had actually stopped beating when she had admitted to being afraid. Not knowing what to say, he threaded his fingers through her own and then brought them to his lips. While part of him was glad that she was going forward without any illusions, it still made him anxious to try and soothe any lingering misgivings.
Barbara gave a small smile and then took her hand back in order to get in a good long stretch. Her back popped with a loud and satisfying crack. It really had been a long day.
"I'm getting old. Listen to me, I sound like an evergreen in winter."
"Nonsense. You don't know the first thing about being old," he teased.
She didn't bother to argue and instead asked, "How did things go with Otto?"
His chuckle was deep and self congratulatory, "Better than expected. He is in the cellar arguing with Draal about sharing space and trying to unpack. I'm sorry but your home is quickly becoming quite the popular boarding house. I've already spoken with the big blue lug to not trust him an inch, never mind that he's currently cooperating. He's taking his new guard duties quite seriously."
Barbara's lips pulled into a tight line as she considered this. Having one more troll under her roof was probably the least of her worries. Next she asked, "Where's Jim?"
"Tobias declared tonight a movie night and pulled him off to Ms. Nuñez's house. Something about needing Notenrique to watch, too."
"Should we let them keep calling him that?"
Walter raised a brow in question, "The young changeling?"
"Yes. I mean, if he likes it that's another thing, but it doesn't seem right to call someone something simply by who they aren't."
"It was good enough for the Romans," he answered with a playful smile. At her look of confusion he added, "Feel free to ask him about it later, but he may have already grown attached to it. Names are a touchy subject for changelings. Some just adopt their familiar's but others will sometimes pick something significant to them. You don't want it to seem like you're naming the family dog."
A yawn from the floor brought the conversation to a pause as Blinky rolled over. Both of them had forgotten he was still even in the room. The human-shaped troll grunted up at the ceiling.
"Do we have any more of that wonderful coffee?"
"Amusing though it would be to see if your heart could burst from over-caffeination, I believe you should just give up and go to bed. Five cups is more than enough for one night. The books will still be here tomorrow." He gave two pointed stomps on the floor and a moment later Aaarrrgghh was carefully lumbering up the stairs.
"That is absolutely unfair," Blinky accused with narrowed and red rimmed eyes. He turned to his friend with a stubborn point of his finger, "Just one more hour."
"Said that two hours ago," Aaarrrgghh reminded. He gave a fond smile then bodily picked up the fussy troll and tossed him over his uninjured shoulder, an action made far easier by his current proportions.
"This is unjust and highly undignified!"
"Goodnight, gentlemen," Walter said with heavy sarcasm as he watched them take their leave. He turned back to Barbara who was giggling helplessly at Blinky's continued ranting. He smiled and his chest felt heavy from the simple beauty of her amusement. He would never get tired of her laughter.
Once alone, he turned to Barbara and broached something that had been on his mind, "May I ask what you said to Jim that has softened his opinion of me?"
Her grin took on a different quality, "It was more about letting him tell me everything that he's had to deal with. I did go into more detail about how I got you to give back Angor's ring and that seemed to give him a new perspective. But, I think he was mostly concerned that I didn't know the real you and letting him "fill me in" made him feel better. I did find out more than a few unsavory details."
"No doubt. I'm almost reluctant to ask for clarification."
"Breath mints, Walt?"
The man blushed scarlet to the tops of his ears, "W-well, I, um. It was-"
She cut him off with another laugh and a shake of her head. Flustered, he opened his book back up, more to have something to do with his hands rather than having the attention to return to reading. She eventually regained her composure with a soft hum of contentment before reaching forward and picking a book up off the coffee table.
"Are any of these in English?"
He cleared his throat, happy to change the topic, "Quite a few are in Old English, not that it would do you much good. If you can read Latin, Greek, German, or Trollish feel free to pick from any of the books over by Blinky's pile."
"I'll just look at the pictures, then," she said with good humor and a shrug.
It took him a little while to subdue his embarrassment and get back to the book, but he managed. Once the first few minutes had passed of just enjoying Barbara's quiet company, he regained enough focus to find his previous place in the chapter. It was half an hour later when he looked back up again, time easily slipping away from him after getting lost in the text.
He was surprised to find Barbara asleep beside him. Her head was thrown back and an open book rested in her lap. He carefully took the volume from her limp fingers and put it back on the table before debating if he should wake her or not. Intentionally, he shifted back into the cushions and was rewarded when her head slipped onto his shoulder. His heart gave a tremulous thump at having her so near.
He sat there for several minutes just listening to her breathe and relishing the soft weight of her pressed against him. He'd had more physical contact this past week than all of the last two decades combined and he internally cringed to acknowledge just how touch-starved he was. As much as he was enjoying this moment, his conscience prodded him into action.
Barbara had come from a long shift. She'd had a long, trying week in general, mostly due to helping clean up his messes. She deserved to not wake up with a crick in her neck from an awkward sleeping angle. He turned slowly and leaned around her to lift her up. With his added troll strength she barely weighed anything at all in his arms. Her soft, fragile features so easily masked the fire he now fully knew she possessed. He had never loved anyone like he loved her.
Yes, he could acknowledge it as love. As he quietly and carefully navigated them towards the stairs he cradled his heart protectively in his arms. He placed a light kiss to the top of her hair and sent out a silent prayer that he wouldn't do anything to ruin this.
She awoke when he adjusted his grip to open her door and she shifted to hold him around the neck so he could better turn the knob without dropping her.
"Carrying me to bed? How charming," her whisper was playful but husky with sleep.
"After everything, the very least I can do is make sure you are properly tucked in," he answered. His smile was sentimental and sweet as he placed a kiss on her forehead while laying her gently down on her duvet.
She made a small noise of dissatisfaction before reaching up to pull his face down to hers. She met his lips in a soft press of affection and he melted into her with an embrace full of gratitude and hope.
"I am proud of you. I don't know what to expect now, but I have a feeling things are going to be okay," she murmured before covering her mouth to yawn.
"Goodnight, Barbara," he said as he took her glasses off to place on the night stand.
"Night," she said with a parting squeeze of his fingers, already halfway back to sleep.
He swallowed thickly as he watched her drift back into slumber. He didn't know what to expect now, either.
The one thing he knew for certain was that no matter what the future might hold, they would face it together.
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