What if Claire and Jim had both gone to the Darklands?

Barbara barely slept anymore. Not since she'd been told what had happened, how she had been involved in a world of trolls—trolls and magic, only to be cursed by Strickler and lost her memory. Everyone was commenting on her tired eyes, with her supervisors suggesting she take more time off. Especially since her boyfriend had vanished at the same time as her son.

Her former boyfriend. You can really pick'em, Barbara. And now her son and his girlfriend had left, into some place called the darklands, to recover Claire's brother.

Had left. Nearly 6 months ago. And then Queen Usurna had demanded that the Killahead bridge be demolished. It had been,but Vendel had ensured that the fragments had not been lost, and Blinky, Toby and Draal were up to something. What it was, they were vague on.

"I do not wish to raise false hopes," Vendel had told her. He'd told the Nunez's that as well. Toby had been reluctant to tell Claire's parents, but Barbara put her foot down. They deserved to know. They all deserved to know, and that included Toby's grandmother. The Nunez's deserved to know that there was some chance that their daughter might return to them, instead of spending every night wandering whether or not Claire had fallen prey to some sex trafficker or had just been murdered and her body left for coyotes.

The fact that she started crying, and then screaming hysterically, during the lecture had swayed Toby. Barbara shook her head at the image.

Fight trolls, still freaked out about an adult losing it. Apparently, adults weren't supposed to lose it like that.

She—the phone beeped, and there was a message. GET HERE, GOING TO GET C&J. Right behind that was a Google Maps point.

Barbara was at the door, texting Ophelia, almost before the last letter appeared.

One wild ride later (it turned out that Javier had been a street racer in his younger days, before he'd joined the army for a single term .), and they were at the location of the bridge. The bridge was gleaming with eldritch energy, but nobody was there. Barbara had her medical bag, while the others had flashlights, just in case they had to wait until full night.

"Why isn't there any—" Barbara's question turned into a shriek as a gyre burst through the gate, the bridge collapsing into rubble around it.

Barbara stared as the gyre ended up leaning against a rocky well, while people and trolls got out of it.

People.

Two people in particular. Jim and Claire.

"Jim! Claire!" She and Claire's parents ran forward, but suddenly stopped. There was something about the two—when they'd heard them coming they'd suddenly spun around, back to back, Jim's blade and Claire's staff out and ready.

It was then that Barbara started to get a good look at them. Jim's body was covered in his armor, but his face… there were bruises on it, what looked like old bloodstains, and Claire…

Barbara had to admit, Claire had always struck her as the sort of stylish teen who wouldn't be caught dead in anything but her best clothes.

But now… She had a breastplate on, not one of the hollywood boobplate designs that made a woman look like she ws about to fall over. No, it was functional, smoothly curved…and scarred. A skirt, made out of some kind of leather, stopped where Claire's old skirt had stopped, evidently intended to protect her without depriving her of the ability to move.

And she was bruised as well. Barbara heard Ophelia and Javier gasp as they took in their daughter. One of her legs was actually splinted, and she could see the stained purple fabric of Claire's shirt, used as bandages, rods of some material bracing the leg. Her visible arm also had bandages on it, old blood on the fabric and Barbara shuddered as she thought about what type of infections you could get from that.

Wait, if her leg is broken or fractured… how in God's name is she even standing? Jim looked like he was favoring his side, and God knows what other injuries they had. But…

Claire shook her head, and adjusted the bundle held in her free arm. "Mom, Dad?" she said in a voice that sounded rough. "Here's Enrique. We got him back." The infant cooed from inside his nest, waving one chubby hand.

"Oh…Oh…" Ophelia reached out to touch her son,then took her from Claire's hand. "He's… You…" Barbara had been present for Ophelia's rants on what she was going to say to her child, but now they all seemed to desert her.

"We got…" Claire smiled. But then she and Jim both were swaying. "Got him back… Got back…"

And then, the two teens collapsed onto the ground.