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The overwhelming burden of the world's future kept pressing down on him that Jim was scared it would soon break him.
Jim couldn't stop himself. Shallow gashes carved on his forearms one deep cut even on his face. The history behind the deep gash was engulfed with lies that left Jim's mouth. It wasn't from some training, it wasn't from battle. It was from him. The very same soul had slit his own body so many times, Jim couldn't count. He should have told them, and he wouldn't be crushed by this heavy weight. But he was the Trollhunter, he was supposed to stop 3 demi-gods from pillaging Earth. He didn't have time to do scared. Yet even after feeding himself all these mantras, the weight still pressed down.
But Jim held it in, he had to. He was the one keeping the group together. They had seen so much for teenagers albeit there was an immortal sorcerer and a cat-dragon. War, loss, and dare he say the aftermath of those who stepped into the path of destruction. So many deaths... so, so many... yet Jim still held it in physically but mentally?
It was funny to think that all this mess started because Jim chose to go through the canals that day. From fighting rogue gnomes and figuring out the ways of Trollmarket, to slaying demi-gods and clashing swords. Oh, what Jim would give to fix that day...
Jim thought this life could never get worse until the fate decided to slay his best friend. The best friend that stood up for him, who comforted him through his downs, was dead. Because Jim couldn't protect him. Something in him shattered the very moment Toby took his last breathe resting into a sleep that lasted an eternity like it was some ticking bomb that was waiting for its moment.
If not for the Moon, the room would be shadows. Books piled up on tables most likely Strickler's the closet had clothes hung on its beam, the bed neat and the sheets ironed. It would have been perfect if it wasn't for the brooding teenager that sagged on his bed. His thoughts were in the trenches of his mind, deeper then the Mariana Trench.
Jim sat there, his raven hair disheveled, the deep gashes that weren't his creations told the stories of the result of war, his blue sweater, which sleeves were rolled up, was dirt stained, blood tinted in some areas. His eyes travelled along his arm, guilt bloomed in his mind as he glanced at each one of the scars.
It was because of him Toby died. If he didn't go through the canals, Toby would have been alive. Toby would have been at the dinner, talking about monster they bravely fought, talking about...tacos.
His eyes were glassy, like a dam with a crack, but he didn't break. He was too scared to.
"Jim? I know you're in there." Claire's sweet voice echoed.
He was hallucinating, he was sure of that. Her voice only reminded her of the times the trio fought beside each other. Now those days were gone...
He blamed himself, it was his fault in every way. Merlin, Nomura, Strickler, Vendel... Toby. They were dead because he couldn't protect them.
"Jim?"
He looked up slightly. The slim figure of Claire was a few feet away, but close. How didn't he hear the door creaking?
"Leave me alone," his voice was barely over a whisper.
"Jim..." Jim felt her eyes linger at his arms.
Jim watched Claire's feet shuffle closer to him. A sob was lodged in his throat, hidden by the overwhelming expectations of the Trollhunter.
The bed sagged even more as Claire sat next to him. Her hands brushed against his scars.
"Who did these to you?" Claire pressured. These weren't battle scars. That was too obvious.
"I'm fine," Jim hissed, trying to pull his arms away from Claire's hands.
Warm hands wrapped around his wrist, "No, you're not. Who did these to you?"
Her voice was quiet and steady, yet cold and firm.
"Me," the word escaped Jim's mouth before he could stop it.
Claire visibly faltered, pupils blown wide, yet she kept her strong facade, "Why, Jim? Why did you do...this, "
"Because..." Jim tested the words in his mind, " I-I'm the Trollhunter, supposed to be the ol'great protector of troll kind and all. I should be keeping my stupid teenage angst to myself, I-I have to be there for others," his voice trembled and cracked.
Can't exactly break down when the future of the world's in my hands.
"Jim, just because you're the Trollhunter..." Claire rested her hand on his cheek, lifting his face up, "doesn't mean you can't break."
"Aren't I supposed to help others? The world almost ended and...Toby," Jim stopped.
"Toby's death was hard for all of us, especially you." Claire looked at him with concern and sympathy stretched on her face, "But Toby would want you to move on, live your life."
His voice quivered, "But I couldn't protect them,"
That was the breaking point. The flood Jim tried to hold back broke loose wild and careless. Tears tumbled down his cheeks as warm arms wrapped around him. He ducked his head into her shoulder.
Maybe, just maybe, Claire's right. They'd want him to move on. But he couldn't, it was too much to bare.
Jim's shoulders trembled as quiet sobs filled the eerie room.
"Jim, you helped so much for the world... but you should also help yourself, you know that?" Claire reminded, voice soft and careful.
Jim was pretty sure he stained her Papa Skull shirt.
Jim's sobs faded away.
"How?..." Jim still clung to Claire, his voice tiny.
All this time, he was just a teenager trying to make it out of puberty. He didn't asked for any of this. He was just trying to be normal. Yes, the 3 demi-gods that wrecked the world were gone. His life should be back to normal right? No, there was still an empty feeling in his heart that ached like there was no tomorrow. He just wanted this to end, for life to be normal, to talk to trolls and his friends without being cautious of an attack.
Maybe-
"Is it okay if I give up?" Jim didn't feel like the brave, strong warrior he was supposed to be, he felt like the teenager that was seeking for adventure again.
He felt the arms pull away and cup his cheeks, his icy blue eyes meeting the dark hazel eyes he had always admired.
"Jim, I know you've been through a lot, but..." her eyes were glassy too, "never leave us, I'd never live another day without you,"
Jim's breathing hitched. They cared, she cared. Jim wasn't the valorous warrior he was supposed to be, he could be the normal teenage boy he always wished to be...