Chapter Text
It’s been exactly two and a half hours since Jim broke open the Khronisfere with Excalibur and reset time to save his friends from death. At sixteen, just over two years ago, he had slain Gunmar the Black, Devourer of Man, by Merlin’s blade of Daylight, and only a few hours ago, at eighteen, he had faced the gruesome aftermath of a bloody war: the Guardians of Arcadia against lawless beings, Eldritch elemental gods; Titans.
Now, however, the year is two-thousand and sixteen, again, and Jim Lake Jr. is a fifteen year-old sophomore, again.
Back at square one, he’s sat in the far corner of Mr. Strickler’s history class for his first day of school following a breezy summer break in Arcadia Oaks High, and Gunmar is alive, albeit still trapped in the Darklands. Which wouldn’t be such an issue, except that at this very moment, Bular is rebuilding Killahead bridge piece-by-piece to free him.
I didn't even think about having to start from scratch when it came to defeating either of them, Jim admits to himself.
But when faced with Toby’s lifeless body laid pale, bludgeoned, and half-crushed beneath the anti-magic generator in the aftermath of the battle, with no potion or spell in the world that could possibly reverse the severity of his wounds, what else could Jim possibly think to do in that moment other than resetting the timeline? Should he have just let Toby die? Toby. Jim’s best friend since first grade. No way he would ever let him die like that.
“Jim, uhh, you good there buddy?”
Jim startles and his eyes dart towards the person currently on his mind, who stares at him with worry.
“Yup, all good!” Jim replies to his best friend before turning his head back down to face the knots in his wooden desk, tapping his left foot.
To everyone else, this is just a normal first day back at school, but for me? This is the day my life changes forever; the day that I become Arcadia's Trollhunter.
He struggles to decide whether it was the best or worst day of his life. Certainly the most important. But technically, it hasn’t happened yet. The Amulet of Daylight still lies unclaimed, nested in the stony remains of what used to be Kanjigar the Courageous. Jim didn’t really make the conscious choice to leave the amulet exposed, either. He’d gotten up early enough that he didn’t need to beat the schoolbell, so he didn’t see a need to bike past the canals. And no canal meant no amulet.
But regardless, was he really the person best-suited to wield it anyways?
Maybe Merlin had been wrong about him being the only possible Trollhunter. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Merlin was wrong about something.
Jim harks back to when Merlin warned him that the poison shard would kill him once they escaped Camelot. Jim had survived, thanks to Claire’s shadow magic. It wasn't surprising that Merlin hadn’t accounted for that; shadowmancy had always been one thing that he could never predict, and luckily for Jim, his girlfriend happened to be an expert at it.
Before he can further reminisce, a familiar, grating voice cuts through his inner monologue.
“Hey, dork-face.”
Jim rolls his eyes at the childish insult. “What do you want, Steve?”
“I don’t want anything from you. …but since I’m so nice, I’ll give you something for free!”
Jim sighs. He already knows where this is going.
“Take this!”
In the two seconds that it takes Steve to speak, he palms the basketball that he was dribbling in the corner of the classroom and lobs it at the side of Jim’s face. Since Strickler was babbling away on a monologue about some war in Ancient Greece, he was paying no mind to them in the back of the class. Normally, it would be the perfect storm for something stupid like this.
However, Steve couldn’t possibly anticipate that Jim had already been through all of this twice before. And that he’d been trained in the art of self-defence by trolls. Without even bothering to look up, Jim catches the basketball in his left hand and effortlessly chucks it behind him, where it lands dead in the center of the classroom’s trashbin.
“— Uh, wha — what? How did you —...”
Steve is slack-jawed. Had Jim Lake just blocked his throw? Puny, wimpy, geeky, Jim Lake? Impossible!
“ … What’s your deal, Lake? That was my favorite basketball!”
Jim flips him off.
Steve’s face drops into a hushed whisper. “Oh, have you finally grown some balls? I am totally beating your ass up at recess.”
“Tch. Yeah, alright, Steve.”
Without much else that he can say, Steve slumps into his seat, folding his arms for good measure.
Jim proceeds to mindlessly doodle in his notebook with his free hand out of boredom. A couple of smiley-faces, and the faces of some people beside him. Mainly Claire, who sits two rows ahead of him besides Mary.
Toby looks to his friend with stars in his eyes. He opens his mouth to ask Jim how in the world he stopped Steve's basketball from hitting him like that, but before he can get a word in, he notices Strickler sauntering to the back of the class. His face suddenly drops.
Having noticed his star pupil absent-mindedly doodling during class time, Strickler decides to test his listening comprehension skills. “Jim! Would you agree?”
He tilts his head up sheepishly to face his teacher. But this wasn’t the first time this had happened; surely he could find a work-around.
What was it that Strickler had said to me the first time, again? … Oh, yeah.
Jim clears his throat. “With Herodotus' opinions, sir? Absolutely.”
Strickler raises an eyebrow. “Really? … His opinions on what tactics of war, specifically?”
Jim bites his tongue.
Really? He’s still asking me that? … Alright — here goes nothing.
“The use of shields, and spears. To make an impenetrable wall.”
Strickler rubs his chin. “Ah, yes — the Greek hoplite phalanx. Certainly the most iconic army formation of the time period.”
Jim lends an appeasing grin toward his teacher, who nods to him briefly and then begins to walk back to the front of the class.
Toby’s eyes widen in awe as he struggles to contain his excitement. “Dude, that was such a good bluff.”
Jim chuckles underneath his breath. “Yeah, well, I was describing a Gladiator scene, not a battle tactic from a history textbook.”
Toby giggles. “You got him good!”
Just as he finishes his sentence, the bell rings. Jim looks to Strickler in anticipation as the other students make a bee-line out the door, but he stays silent.
“Woah”, Jim mutters to himself as he stands up to leave. “Fortune favors the bold, I guess.”
Jim's first day back at school has flown by in a blur.
Honestly, he was on autopilot for most of it. Every event that happened was something that he had already anticipated. After all, this is the third time he had experienced his first day of sophomore year, if he was counting the illusion spell Merlin had trapped him in. So naturally, Jim didn’t feel the need to change most of the things he had done the first time.
The most notable change during the school day so far was that he had made sure to leave a good impression on Claire during gym class when she asked him to audition for the school’s Romeo and Juliet play. Humiliation wasn’t a big issue to Jim, normally. He was fine with the empty schoolyard threats, and dirty looks from classmates... It was kind of like a challenge; to keep his head down. He could take that. But he couldn’t stand the thought of embarrassing himself in front of Claire again. He’d done that enough times already.
Strangely, now that Jim’s back at the beginning, it’s painfully obvious that Claire had been crushing on him the entire time. The glances that she took at him in class, and how Mary teased her whenever Jim had passed by the two of them. To be fair, he only knew this for certain because she had confessed to Jim that she’d liked him months before sophomore year even began. Jim remembers the day she told him that; they were laying beside each other underneath a willow tree the night that he had defeated Gunmar.
“You should totally do it”, Toby says.
Jim blinks. He had briefly forgotten that he and Toby had just walked into the men's changing rooms. Time seems to fly by quicker when you’re reminiscing.
“Do what?”
“The play, Jimbo!”
Oh yeah. The play.
Jim shrugs. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll audition some time tomorrow.”
Toby blinks. “Wait, actually? I wasn’t expecting you to fold so quickly.”
“I just feel optimistic about it, I guess.”
Normally, Jim would never agree to something like a high school play production, but with his foresight, he understands that the benefits of trying out for the play outweigh the negatives. After all, Romeo and Juliet is what he and Claire had initially bonded over. Plus, he’s already memorized all of Romeo's lines from performing the play the first time around, so it wouldn't put too much of a damper on his Trollhunting missions.
Toby smiles. “Yeah, that’s more like it! I've heard Claire has got this in the bag — if you become the leading man, you two would be the talk of our school! I mean, you do know that there's a kissing scene, right?”
Toby wiggles his eyebrows sultrily, as if Jim didn't already grasp the extremely obvious subtext. "You could totally bag her, dude! And if you don't, there's a ton of other hot chicks in our school who are into the whole 'tortured poet' kinda vibe."
"Tobes, what are you even talking about...?" Jim cringes. He can feel himself getting riled up at Toby's comments, but quickly remembers that technically, there was a three-year age gap in maturity between them.
It's not like he can take the holier-than-thou route either; 15-year-old Jim would've laughed at those jokes at least semi-unironically.
Jim deems it best not to say anything.
Before he knows it, Jim sits alone in Arcadia Oaks High’s courtyard, well into the afternoon. He couldn’t bring himself to bike home with Toby earlier.
He hates to admit it, but it hurt to talk to him. Jim felt guilty for thinking that about Tobes, but he couldn’t lie to himself about something so blatant. Between his badly timed jokes and his sexually immature attitude towards women, he was worlds apart from the fully matured Toby that had fought valiantly beside him against the Arcane Order. Not that he has a personal gripe with fifteen-year-old Toby or anything like that; he just needs his own space.
As Jim sits on the grassy courtyard for the next couple of hours, he loses track of the time and pulls himself further and further into his own doubts.
He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to sleep tonight. Everything about this life after resetting the timeline felt wrong. A cheap imitation of the life he remembers. Jim doesn't feel "at home" at all. Arcadia didn’t feel anything like how he had once remembered it, and he begins to wonder if there really was a change in the location, or if it was him who had changed.
It’s strange. I’ve lived this exact life, and for three years, I took everything on the chin without so much as a complaint. Now, I’m back at the beginning with more knowledge than I could ever hope for, and I’m already sick of it on the first day.
Exactly like the time Merlin’s spirit trapped me in a false vision, now that I think about it. To teach me a lesson about his amulet “never making mistakes”.
Jim freezes as he looks at the sky and notices it beginning to turn a frightening shade of pink.
Oh no. I’ve been lost in my thoughts this entire day! It’s nearly sundown!
Jim palms his face in utter disbelief.
Why the hell have I just been sitting here, ruminating? The amulet's still in the canals, and if I don't claim it in time… the whole world is ending. Oh my god.
"Shit! How could I have forgotten that?!"
He looks up to the sky. The sun is just beginning to set. If he leaves now, he can still get to the amulet first, before Draal does. That's all that matters now. Getting to the canals on time. That is what determines the difference between survival and extinction for every human and troll that he's ever held dear.
With a look of determination plastered on his face, he doesn't dare give up.
Jim Lake Jr. runs.
Merlin's already told me that if Draal is chosen, it would already be too late! Why didn’t I just take the shortcut this morning?! It's nearly dark enough for him to come out of hiding!
AGH! I was so focused on getting to school on time I didn’t even think about grabbing the amulet! What. Is. Wrong with me?!
That’s literally what I came back here to do in the first place! Become the Trollhunter and save my friends! And I’ve royally fucked it up already!
“Of all the stupid things I could’ve done!”, he whisper-shouts to himself mid-sprint.
Jim arrives at the bike rack and doesn’t think to grab his helmet. He jumps onto his bike saddle and wastes no time pedaling.
I should’ve grabbed the Amulet earlier. I’m the Trollhunter, it’s my job; my “sacred obligation”, as Blinky would put it. But, it’s different now. I feel… lonely here. Even with Toby and my mom supporting me.
Lost in thought yet effortlessly weaving in-and-out of pedestrians, he turns the street corner.
I can’t live in the past like this, he soberly realizes. I belong with my people. My Trollhunters.
His knuckles whiten as he squeezes the handlebars even tighter.
I was trying my best to just take my emotions and deep them, but I can’t. I really can’t. I hate being fifteen again. I hate looking like a kid,
and I hate the thought of having to re-do everything even more.
I don’t know why my life had to play out the way that it did. Am I wrong to think that?
Before the Arcane Order attacked, I had everything I'd ever hoped for. I had friends. Unimaginably brave friends, who understood me down to the bone.
Now, most of them don’t even know that I exist anymore.
It’s all a distant memory.
He zooms across Arcadia’s asphalt sidewalks so quickly that he can almost smell the burning rubber on his bike tires. Tears dry against the wind before they can stream down Jim’s cheeks. He's so nauseous he might puke. And then he almost does.
Claire.
Just the thought of her name is the final straw. Jim stops right in his tracks, carving fiery bike mark skids across a barely sun-lit overpass. The same overpass that started it all.
A deep pink saturates his surroundings as the setting sun kisses the sky its last goodbyes. Nostalgia hits Jim like a bus. Taking the handlebars in trembling hands, he swings his bike aside, which clatters loudly against the cold pavement.
Running to the guard rail, he clutches his stomach with one hand in anticipation to vomit. It takes him by surprise when all that comes out of his mouth are the soft cries of a fifteen year old boy. Between sobs and shallow gasps, Jim grits his teeth and sinks his dampened face into his hands. More than anything, Jim wishes Claire, his Claire, were here with him now. What he would give to have her resting head on his shoulder, as she sifts through the tangles in his hair, humming a song under her breath.
Facing up towards the fuchsia sky, his pounding, heavy heart begins to soften. The hands that were once cupping his face now slowly drop to his sides.
... No.
I can’t let myself get off-track now. Not when I’m so close.
He tilts his head down to face the mountain of rocks that was once Kanjigar. The view from where he stands above the underpass made the towering pile of rubble appear as small as a lady beetle.
Something else was beside it as well. An overgrown patch of brown tallgrass?
Jim rubs his eyes. No, not just that. There’s a well-camouflaged reddish-brown sweater vest as well.
Rubbing his eyes a second and third time doesn’t do anything to change the terrifying view.
It’s Toby. Not Draal, Toby!
Alive, and standing beside the sewer grate at the bottom of the canal, moments away from grasping Merlin’s amulet in his chubby hand.
Jim brings his hands to his head in terror. His best friend is about to pick up an ancient weapon that would change the course of his life forever. Once he grabbed it, he would never know peace. He can't let that happen to him.
“TOBES!”
Toby can’t hear him. A human voice can’t travel across an entire canal, no matter how loud or desperate it may be.