21: The Division

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Birds chirped overhead. The gentle trickling of a nearby stream could be heard. The dawn air was crisp and clear.
Jim's eyes flickered open. He was laying in an expanse of long grass, cicadas chirruping annoyingly in his ear. He slowly sat up, his head spinning wildly. Nausea hit. He was going to puke, or at least felt that way. The teenager waited somewhat patiently for the bright sheen to dissipate from his vision. He was sat in someone's backyard. The presence of a fenced in area littered with various potted plants and garden furniture strewn all over the overgrown yard. He instantly clocked who's yard this was. Toby's, or more specifically, Nancy Domzalski's. He then lowered his gaze to see that he had been laying there in nothing more than his jeans. His shoes, shirt and jean jacket were nowhere to be found.

Shit, why am I laying half naked in Toby's backyard?!

A panic rushed to his head. Jim didn't know what to do. He heard the back door of the house creak open, causing him to dive behind some old garden furniture. His eyes watched Nancy Domzalski waddle across the back porch and pick up a watering can. The teenager kept his eyes trained on the senior citizen, sneaking round the perimeter to the hole in the fence where Toby used to smuggle him in as a kid. No wonder her cats kept escaping, it'd been over 10 years and the hole still hadn't been repaired (well that and Arcadia's resident trolls).
Luckily for him, Nancy Domzalski was going deaf and also legally blind, so it was highly unlikely he'd be spotted. Making a run for it, Jim bobbed and weaved around various bits of the garden and to the hole. He shoved himself into it, suddenly realising his current build was just too big to fit through the gap. He huffed in annoyance and began to try and somehow make the hole larger. A slew of words streamed into his head, which he repeated out loud, with interesting results.

"Reformare rem viam, quam mihi visum est, formare corpoream immutare cordi meo." His voice deepened, distorted.

A green haze surrounded his hands as he extended them out before him. The hole in the fence stretched until it was large enough for him to fit through. The teenager then got a weird hazy flash on memory return to him from the night before.

Jim looks at his hands. Douxie is talking about the ramifications of the time travel. The wizard brings up Jim's inability to save Toby. The former Trollhunter snaps. His body contorts, a surge of energy rushes through him like a fire. He's scared, he's changing. Douxie looks visibly afraid.

Jim shook his head, pushing himself through the newly widened hole and into the thicket beside Toby's house. Slowly, he treks home, making sure to be quiet as he entered the house. He was deep down hoping his mom hadn't noticed he'd been gone. How misguided that was!
Barbara Lake stood before him in the living room, arms folded, scowling at him.

"Where have you been?" There was pain in her voice. Her eyes were red raw from crying.

Jim pondered an answer but couldn't come up with one, because he simply just didn't have one to give her. How could he give her an answer when he didn't know what had happened himself?

"Jim...I know you're a teenager. You wanna go out, rebel, have fun...but this  isn't acceptable." She gestured to his currently shirtless, muddied state.

He spat in response, annoyed, "Why would you care? I was only gone the night. I'm home now aren't I? Isn't that enough for you?"

Those words seemed to genuinely hurt her. Tears beaded in the corners of her cerulean eyes. Her body trembled.

"H-how could you think that of me?" Her voice shook as she spoke, choking back tears, "I'm your mother, Jim! Of course I care about you! You've been in the hospital and suddenly you disappear for a full day and a half without warning. You're lucky I didn't call the police to file a missing persons report."

"If you give that much of a shit, then why didn't you?" Jim struck back.

"I checked with your friends first and Toby mentioned he'd seen you head off from school. You'd been spotted. Why wouldn't you text me Jim? I was out searching for you all night!" She was close to weeping.

"She most certainly was. I'm very concerned about how you could do this to your poor mother." A posh British accent spoke from the kitchen.

Mr. Strickler entered the lounge from the kitchen, two cups of coffee in hand. Jim frowned.

"What's he doing here?" Lake asked, pointing a finger at his teacher.

"I..."

"It's alright Barbara, allow me. You see Young Atlas, I was driving back from an emergency appointment when I just so happened to pass by your mother sat upon a bench by herself, crying. I suggested I get her home and we call around to try and find out your whereabouts. The police were a final resort." Walt said calmly.

"Well, why the fuck are you still here?" Jim pressed aggressively, ignoring his mom shrinking behind the changeling in fear, before she steadied herself.

"I asked him to stay. I didn't wanna be alone. He kept me company all night." Barbara smiled at Walt.

Jim quelled the growing rage within him. Once again, the troll within him was trying to fight its way to the surface and attack. Lake shook his head.

"Whatever. I'm home now so you don't need to fucking worry." His voice lacked empathy.

Jim hesitated before sprinting upstairs to his room and slamming the door. Barbara went to follow him, only for Strickler to stop her.

"Let him have his space Barbara. I know you're worried for him, but Jim is experiencing something highly difficult for people his age. It'll blow over."

"We can only hope...I can't lose another family member..." She said softly in response.

From behind the bedroom door, Jim collapsed to his knees once more and began to cry, he'd hurt his mom. The one person other than Toby that it hurt more than anything to see upset. He needed to patch together what had happened and why. Something that clearly seemed to add to this was the presence of a strange circular object in his pocket, approximately the size of his palm.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the new amulet. His face twisted into an expression of horror. The circular dial was ticking round slowly and it was pulsing with a soft, emerald glow.

Hello again...James Lake Jr. Looks like we found each other again...

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