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Time flies when you’re having fun. That's what people say isn't it? Jim had never felt the saying was truer until recent years. In just thirty years, New Trollmarket had become a bustling city, even more so than Arcadia Trollmarket had been in its centuries of habitation. Jim still held his mantle of Trollhunter, though now he officially shared it with Claire. Together with Blinky, they had built and guided New Trollmarket and its residents to prosperity. All was well.
When they got the call, time came to a stop for Jim. He felt empty as Claire immediately summoned a portal and brought them to Arcadia. He vaguely felt the arms grabbing him once he crossed through the portal, wrapping him in an embrace. He was numb as he looked at Strickler's face.
“Where…. Where is she?” Jim asked, wearily.
Strickler motioned to a door behind him, and that was when Jim took in his surroundings. It was the hospital. Of course it was. His mother had been hurt. He felt his legs move but they were slow. Heavy. Terrified.
Strickler had called. His mom had been driving to work in the middle of the night. Called in on an emergency.
‘She shouldn't even be on-call anymore.’ Jim thought to himself. He stopped, hand on the doorknob.
“Why was she on-call? She hasn't been the on-call doctor in 8 years.” Jim questioned, voice low.
“You should go see her, James, she doesn't have much time left.” Strickler said softly, ignoring Jim's question all together. Jim felt Claire’s hand on his back, gently pushing him to face the door once more.
It took every ounce of strength to not drop to the floor as he walked through the doorway. Claire's hand on his back grounded him. His mother was in bed. Wires hooked up to her, the buzzing and beeping of the electronic monitors the only noise to be heard. Jim slowly stepped up to the bedside.
“Oh Jim! You made it here so quick! It's so good to see you dear.” His mother looked up at him. The years had been kind to her. Her usually wrinkled skin and gray and red streaked hair were marred by blood and scratches. Jim didn't allow himself to look any lower than her shoulders.
There was too much red.
Why weren't they helping her?
‘She doesn't have much time left.’ Strickler's words replayed in his head.
He sat down in the chair next to her bed and looked his mother in the eyes.
“I love you mom. Y'know that?” He smiled, his voice wet.
“Oh honey. I know you do. And I love you. I will always love you. You know that right?” She smiled, a knowing look in her eyes.
“Mom, I don't want you to go…” Jim said, choking back a sob. “I can't lose you.”
“I'm sorry Jim." The were silent for a few moments. "Can I ask you a favor?” Barbara said wearily.
“Anything mom, just please don't go yet.” Jim pleaded.
“Can you hold my hand?” She asked, her hand rising weakly from the bed.
He took her hand in both of his and brought his head down to rest his forehead on her hand. He sat there for a little more than a minute while the previously steady rhythm of the monitors slowed, then stopped. He could hear Claire's soft sobs behind him, could feel Strickler's hand grasping his shoulder so tightly that he would have broken it if he were human.
Then a voice broke through the cacophony.
“Time of death: 11:34 PM”