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Toby’s never had the endless thirst for adventure the way Jim did pre-amulet, the need to find bigger and better things before any of those things could get a chance to find him first, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t loving it.
At the same time, he feels a lot more attached to the place he grew up in than he really thought he ever would.
Before finding the amulet in the canal, Toby figured he’d eventually move out of Arcadia to somewhere at least a little different- his only ties to it originally were his Nana, Jim, and Doctor Lake. He was pretty much invisible to everyone else.
After finding the amulet?
It’s nice to just be home, to appreciate what they’ve saved time after time and all the living things here.
(Including the living things he never, ever thought he’d get along with- okay, Toby doesn’t quite have Jim’s level of thirst for adventure, but his initial thirst for vengeance was something the amulet could quench just as easily. Jim had stopped him from actually using his then-super-new and super cool magic weapon to kick Steve’s butt, sure, but the potential had been there.
Kind of weird that Steve’s actually helping out now, not that Toby’s complaining.)
Toby also isn’t going to argue with the view, and reminds himself to try and sit up on the roof more often. The stars dot the sky like the finest of gems in a deep, dark abyss, glittering in that reassuringly familiar way even if he and Jim are way closer to Trollmarket than they are any one of those stars. It doesn’t make the sight any less enjoyable, and it looks as peaceful as the rest of Arcadia. A cool breeze winds through the trees and past the homes of every friend Toby’s come to make here, ever person he’s come to know and care about and then some. It’s him and Jim on the roof and so many of their friends, their family, through and below the rest of town.
For now, anyway.
Something’s bound to pop up -it always does- but right in this moment, it’s pretty nice just to look at.
‘The center of the universe’, Jim’s joked- at least, Toby’s pretty sure he’d been joking, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. Jim’s sense of humor is undeniably Jim. For all the things he can be tight-lipped about, he usually enjoys throwing some random tidbit out there and letting Toby and the others figure out if he’s serious or not.
It occurs to Toby, not for the first time, that Jim might always be telling the truth.
Kinda scary, but kinda neat too.
The only things Jim will really lie about when it comes to timeline-shenanigans is the minor stuff, usually when answering questions from certain concerned best friends about how Jim did or didn’t let the world (or the universe) run all over him.
And there are some things where, if it were anybody else answering, Toby might have his doubts- but not with Jim.
When they first started having those conversations, he’d asked Jim why he nudged Toby towards finding the amulet, rather than somebody else or letting one of the Trolls reclaim it. If it had been anybody but Jim, Toby would have figured he was getting stuck with the rough job while the original amulet-user got to enjoy life not being bound to a persistent magical amulet. Being a Trollhunter’s a rough job for sure, don’t get him wrong, but it’s not like Jim made anything easier on himself as far as Toby can tell. He’s a Trollhunter too, and practically every bit of advice or training that he’s got is meant to make things easier for Toby than they ever were for Jim.
Not that Jim’s always as helpful as he could be, like when he knew who the mole mascot was and let Toby figure it out for himself instead of just telling Toby who it was, but every best friend’s occasionally possessed by the evil spirit of ‘watching your friend flounder at something because it’s funny’ and Toby can’t really blame him for that.
Too much.
“Hey, uh- Jim?” This is where Toby’d drum his fingers against the handle of Daylight, but he does not need to drop a war hammer off the roof. Again. The thought of putting his Nana or the cats at risk of getting hurt like that instead has him tightening his grip. “Quick question.”
“Fire away, Tobes.”
“I was wondering -no big deal, just kind of a passing thought- how long was it? You know, how far back’d you have to go?”
(The bit about it being a new, passing thought is one of Toby’s lies. He’s been wondering ever since they first talked about how Jim knows the things he does, but that conversation had already had so much going on that one more bombshell would’ve maybe split his head open. It would’ve given Blinky a heart attack, that’s for sure.
Well, the second talk about what’d been going on with Jim almost did.
The first time, some of the trolls (including their new awesome troll mentors) had been suspicious of how Jim was as skilled and as comfortable as he was with trollhunting stuff. He’d been careful, but a lot of that unconscious stuff was hard to remember to ‘forget’. They’d thought he was a changeling at first, which almost got them really off-track when Toby wanted to know what the heck those were, and then they thought he was some kind of human spy when hitting him in the face with a horseshoe didn’t do much. The talk was kind of tense and pressure-heavy in general, so Jim had been vague enough to pass off the time-travel as short-term shenanigans, another one of their misadventures.
But things went further than that and, once the human and troll members of the trollhunting team settled into something of a routine and got comfortable with each other and Blinky wasn’t as ready to chuck horseshoes at Jim’s head, they’d had a more in-depth talk about just how Jim knew what he did about the amulet.
Time-travel alone didn’t explain how Jim knew what having the armor protectively spring up was like for the person inside it, or how he knew how annoying the amulet’s dogged teleportation could get.
…that he’d time-traveled back from a time when he’d been the one in the armor, the one with the amulet, did.
It explained a lot and led to even more questions.)
Jim mulls on Toby’s most recent question for a bit, and Toby stretches as he leans back to watch the slow passing clouds.
He won’t blame Jim for taking his time- he hardly expects an answer at all.
There are some things Jim won’t answer, not directly, and Toby can respect that, can respect the tightrope Jim walks between keeping them informed and trapping them in some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. Some details are more important to know than others, and some things are gruesome what-ifs best saved for after they complete whatever the relevant world-saving quest is.
All the same… it’s Toby’s nature to worry about Jim, the way that Jim worries about him.
And he might not have cool time-travel insight or whatever, but he’s not oblivious- he knows his best friend, and he notices things.
Ever since finding out, part of Toby’s been waiting for Jim to reach that point where the seer-skills aren’t really in play anymore, where what they’re doing now goes past whenever the ‘last timeline’ stopped.
That part of him waited the first month. Then the first few. Then the first year.
Jim hasn’t seemed to run out of info, of relevant experiences, even if Toby’s a lot more up to speed with him now than he was when they started.
The other part of Toby kind of attaches a vague ‘unspeakably long time’ label on what it expects from Jim’s answer, because Jim’s knowledge is on par with Jim’s skills- and Jim’s skills are, uh, well. Sure, being a whiz in the kitchen means Jim was already pretty good with knives, but Toby breathes a little easier every time they pass some important time-marker without crossing that boundary where Jim’s memories end- he’s grateful his best friend didn’t have to learn so much about fighting and the things that could kill or help them in a year or two.
He’d like to think that means Jim had a little more time to eat, sleep, and actually take care of himself, but this is Jim. Jimbo, chronically tired from holding up everybody but himself.
(Strickler’s kind of on the right track when it comes to the whole Atlas thing, but Jim would beat Atlas in a fair contest.
No titan could do what Jim does.)
Jim’s idea of taking care of himself is taking care of other people and maybe listening to them when they remind him to go easy- he’s fantastic at team-speaking and so much better at letting other people help than he used to be, but it’s weirdly relieving that he’s still the Jim who needs reminders. For all the things he knows and can do, he’s still mortal like the rest of them.
Still Toby’s best friend.
And for all he knows, Jim traveled back a decade, or half a century, or more to trust him with the amulet.
(There were so many little things over those first few months, or even now when they meet somebody that Toby doesn’t recognize but that Jim does, that add up really well now that he’s got a better grasp of what Jim’s been through. The people he occasionally glances through, almost like they’re ghosts, the ones he hugs extra hard sometimes- it’s not hard to imagine why Jim would come back, who he lost the first time. The worst times are when Jim half-mumbles something that doesn’t make any sense.
Those are tired, out of it moments where Jim might just not make any sense because dreams never do, because that’s all Jim ever claims it is, or he might not make any sense because the world in which those comments did qualifies as prime nightmare fuel.
Not that Toby wants to imagine it, because he doesn’t like thinking about some apocalyptic timeline Jim had to hit the reverse on.
Because it’s Jim, there’s no doubt he’d do it for even one person if given the chance.... but those looks and hugs and comments are directed at way more than just one or a handful of people. He still looks a bit happier than he should be whenever Draal tackles him into another sparring session, when Nomura or Strickler offer rarer chances at learning espionage or subtler techniques, even when Vendel makes some snide comment before getting to a somewhat kinder point. Vendel. Who Toby’s really come to appreciate, in his weird cranky old troll ways, who’s similarly come to actually respect them and their trollhunting- but it’s still Vendel. Goes-on-and-on-for-hours-if-he-wants-to Vendel.
At least Jim’s not there anymore, in the world without them, going through whatever it all was.)
How’s that song go? There might not be a word for old friends who’ve just met, but there really should be- he ought to come up with one, for Jim’s sake. Sure, there hasn’t been anybody that they’ve automatically clicked with, anyone they don’t still have to naturally build friendships with, but there’s an affinity there that they maybe really shouldn’t have to start with or build off of. Blinky can talk a lot about friendships stretching across time and space even when they logically shouldn’t have anything to stretch to or across, and Toby thinks he’s onto something.
(What Toby doesn’t know is that Blinkous Galadrigal has made that speech at least three more times than he remembers- twice in time loop related incidents and once prior to the much larger jump back in time that took place between the two.)
It also helps that Jim just knows the right things to say- not in a Bill-Murray-in-the-first-half-of-Groundhog-Day way, though, where he just lords information he shouldn’t know over people or uses it to manipulate unrealistically perfect or fun situations.
No, Jim does things the Bill-Murray-at-the-end-of-Groundhog-Day way, because Jim knows how to offer advice or support when it’s wanted. He doesn’t force it on anybody, but he’s always been a good listener, and he understands that how they decide to handle their problems is ultimately up to them. He’ll always be ready and willing to help out if they ask, though.
(Funny enough, both Toby and Claire had made the Groundhog Day joke shortly after they each found out about the time-travel- Jim had groan-laughed each time.
It’s a good sound.)
He’s not perfect, but he is Jim, and that means he always does his best.
Jim surprises Toby by finally answering, speaking up just as Toby mentally hits the point where he expects Jim to change the topic or just stay silent.
“…three years.”
It’s not exactly another week away, but it’s not a whole life time either.
“Woof.” Three years from that day in the canal. Three. Years. 365 days times three. Three. “Geez, that’s- er-”
How many of their friends did they lose- how many people did Jim watch die in three years?
For somebody with Jim’s level of compassion, it sounds like a death sentence. Three years of being plunged into new world after new world, into new deadly situations without half the information they had this time, three years of watching people die despite doing his best each and every time.
Yeah, they know about the Krohnisfere now, so at least they know this time around about the magic reset button in case things go south again, but getting their hands on it isn’t a given when it’s so well-guarded. There’s no guarantee that they could get it and get out alive, actually have a chance to use it.
Jim’s been living with that slippery reassurance all while dealing with three years’ worth of emotional fallout and the nightmares that come with them.
Not that this timeline’s perfect or without its faults or all-nighters –of which there are plenty- but…
Three. Years.
“A long time?” Jim’s smile has that sad, hollow tinge to it that Douxie gets sometimes- three years is nothing on nine hundred, but it’s still a burden to bear. “Almost nothing at all?”
And Toby thinks about all those things that Jim has talked about, the events where he’s still a little vague about how long each thing lasted- about temporarily becoming a troll, about running into the Darklands by himself, about time spent guiding the remains of Trollmarket to a new Heartstone.
Toby thinks about each and every one and hopes they were blips on that three years scale.
(Short or not, there’s no doubt about how they affected him- the Darklands incident especially, the one that Jim brought up if only so Toby would swear to never do anything like that, never lock himself in a special sort of hell and lock them out of it when they were all capable and ready to help, when none of it had to be done solo.
Tobes- Toby, look at me, don’t- don’t make the same mistake I did, okay? You don’t have to handle that alone- none of us do. We- the point of a team is to have each other’s backs.
Hey, hey, relax- diving headfirst into danger is more of a Jim thing, right?
…
Come on, you don’t really think I’d chuck myself into Gunmar’s lair like that, do you?
I- I didn’t think I would either, but- but I was so angry, and so tired, and I didn’t want anybody else to get hurt and I didn’t think-
It’s okay- Jim, Jimbo, buddy, you’re okay. I’m not going anywhere without you guys, promise. I don’t think I’d be able to get past Arrrgh to even try and do that, and he’s a hard guy to say no to in general.
He’d managed to get Jim to snort-laugh with that, half-hearted and on-the-edge-of-becoming-a-sob as it’d been.
There’d been a lot of hugging and crying after that.
Toby doesn’t imagine Jim was lucky enough to spend only a little while in the Darklands, but every second there left its own scar, however many there ended up being in the end.
He hopes beyond all hope that last-timeline-him and the others had gotten to Jim quickly.
…a small, faint part of him echoes with the knowledge that they didn’t.)
“Yeah- yeah, both of those.” As awesome as Jim’s skills and experience are, the fact is that it took him only three years to build those both up, and nobody should have to gain that much experience or become that skilled in such a short amount of time. Toby’s tempted to make some comment about the unfairness of it all, what Jim went through, but it feels redundant.
Jim saves him from having to say anything.
“You know what I regret most?” It should be a somber question, a sensitive one to approach gently and slowly, but Jim’s half-smile throws Toby off even more.
“…what?”
“Not wearing my helmet more.” Jim picks up the helmet from where it’d been resting in his lap, rapping his knuckles against one side. His smile grows a bit.
Toby can’t help it- he starts laughing.
Maybe it’s because of Jim’s increasingly goofy grin or because of the much needed tonal whiplash, but it’s more hilarious than it has any right to be and Toby’s so grateful for that.
“Dude- dude, seriously?”
“Concussions suck- I really don’t know why I didn’t wear it all the time. Most of the time. More than just a few times, actually. I almost never wore it.”
Oh, yeah, big mystery.
Toby’s laughter becomes just a bit more manageable, enough for him to get more than two words out, and he snorts as he wipes at one of his eyes.
“Because you’re Mister Jump-Into-Action-and-Regret-the-Pain-Later.”
“Believe me, I regretted it.”
“How’d you forget to wear your helmet? Your mom’s a doctor.”
“I just- didn’t feel like I needed it most of the time, I guess.” Jim shrugs, a touch of the earlier somber tone returning to his voice as his expressions weakens into a half-grimace. “But, uh, yeah, I made my mom worry a lot. Like, so many times.”
“I bet she’s not the only one.” Jim at least has the decency to look kind of sheepish about it, scratching at the back of his head while Toby keeps giving him the unimpressed look his less thought-out and more thrill-seeking actions have totally earned him. Even in this timeline, he’s caused them a fair bit of worry, the way they’ve all worried each other time and time again. Still, somber’s not exactly the note Toby’s hoping to let them stew in for the rest of the night, so the next question’s lighter. “So, Jimbo, how are you feeling? About where we were then, where we are now? I mean, you gotta love not getting so many concussions.”
Jim laughs, gaze trailing from his helmet to the rest of his armor and then slowly across the view of Arcadia before finally coming back to rest on Toby.
“A lot of it’s almost the same.” A particularly wispy cloud passes in front of the moon, as lazy as the others, and Jim sounds as content as he looks. “It’s… better. A lot better. All the little things make a world of difference.”
“Oh-ho, I see, so me having the amulet isn’t that big a deal?”
Jim laughs again and Toby’s expression shifts from playfully indignant to grinning right alongside him.
“Nah. You were a hero then and you’re a hero now.” Toby’s smile softens as Jim nudges his elbow. He gets what he means. They’re all heroes, whoever has the amulet be damned. They wouldn’t be where they are right now if it wasn’t for everyone involved, Jim included. Maybe Jim especially. Toby doesn’t want to think about what any of this would have been like without him. “We’re all still Trollhunters. Still doing our best against impossible odds.”
“They’re not that impossible.” It’s amazing how much a magic amulet, shadow magic, super cool fighting moves and weapons, and talented troll trainers can even the odds. That’s not getting into the Akiridion stuff or Douxie’s magic and how much that all helps. “We’re an awesome team- and your future-vision’s cool and all, but you’re still gonna be total awesome sauce even after everything’s new.”
Jim laughs again, a softer sound this time, and it looks like he believes him. Toby’s glad Jim’s been smiling so much, that he can even begin to smile so much after everything, and it’s not in Toby’s nature to let the fun end here.
“Thanks, Toby.”
Pep talks are fun, but so are video games.
“No prob.” Toby pushes himself to his feet, extending a hand to Jim. “Wanna work through another Go-Go Sushi level?”
They’ve beaten the game a bunch of times already, but the new remaster with a dozen new levels is a great excuse to do it all over again.
“You bet I do.”
To add to the fun, there’s the familiar sound of a shadow portal opening a few feet behind them, and Claire’s already closing it back up when they turn to look at her. She straightens up fully, stance steadying from her usual leant forward landing pose, and brushes off the knees of her pants before tucking a lock of hair away from the tugging breeze and behind her ear.
How’d Toby ever get such cool friends?
“Got room for one more?”
It looks like dinner with her family went well, and it sounds like she just managed to hear all that she needed to out of the last few seconds.
The warm atmosphere their conversation ended on feels all the warmer with her here.
(Toby’s already home, literally on top of his house, and he never feels more at home than when he’s with them.)
“Hey Claire.”
“Howdy, Claire-bear.”
“TP, Jim.” Her hands move, now on her hips, and there’s a glint in her eye. “I figured we could rotate the controllers”-her confident air says all that it needs to, and Claire goes a step further with a grin that’s every bit as cocky as her words-“unless you two are worried about somebody kicking down your high scores.”
On second thought, the remastered version can wait. Classic Go-Go Sushi works too.
One glance at Jim, his eyebrow raised at Claire’s challenge and the corners of his mouth twitching up, is all it takes to confirm that he’s more than down for it.
“No way- we’d have to be worried about actually beating Arrrgh and Toby’s scores first.”
“How’d Arrrgh get so good at that game, anyway?” Claire steps aside from the competitive bragging for a moment, genuinely sounding both impressed and confused as she directs the question at Toby.
“What can I say? He’s a master, and masters never reveal their secrets.” Not that Toby’s gonna turn down the chance to brag more about another one of his amazing friends. His arms cross as he leans back, proud of his and Arrrgh’s legendarily incredible scores. “Buuuuut, it’s totally because he had an awesome teacher.”
“Oh, so you’ve been holding out on me and Jim?” Now it’s Claire’s turn to cross her arms, taking one step forward. “Or are you saying Arrrgh’s a better student than us?”
“I’ll let the scores speak for themselves.”
Toby matches her, now one step between her and Jim, and Claire takes the final step to shorten the distance between them in order to poke him in the chest. It’s gentle and joking, but it gets the point across, because Claire’s competitive nature matches his own like nobody else he knows.
“You’re on.”
The rest of the evening has just as much friendly trash talk, ends up being ten times more fun than Toby thought it could be, and ends with the three of them passed out in Toby’s room after enjoying a tray or two of his Nana’s latest batch of cookies.
And the stars keep shining.