Imagine This: Jim Is Injured After Battle, He's Found By Some Hapless Bystander And Taken To A Hospital

Imagine this: Jim is injured after battle, he's found by some hapless bystander and taken to a hospital (lets say not the one Barbara works at or this would all be moot) and Strickler has to lie and say he's Jim's father to get in a run damage control.

Jim’s voice is slurred, and whether it’s the result of meds or pain, Strickler can’t tell. “Man…I’m…I’m winning at the dad category, aren’t I?” 

Strickler takes a cursory glance to make sure the nurse has left the room before raising a brow to the young Trollhunter - and gods, but he is young, Strickler needs to remind himself at times, Jim’s fortitude and wisdom is so often beyond his meager human years. “You and I both know that I had to say something that would let me in–”

“First dad runs off on me and Mom,” continues Jim, and oh dear, his eyes are glazed. “Second dad isn’t even my dad. Second dad just lied ‘cause that’s what he does. Lies and pretends and then, for a grand finale, tries to kill me–”

Strickler’s jaw tenses. This might be the meds or the pain talking, but it doesn’t mean he has to care for what he’s hearing. “I do believe I’ve made up for –”

“You really were close, you know? Like, so close to winning it all. The Father Figure of the year. You were my favorite teacher. Totally loved our office hours together.” Jim’s head lolls against the pillow. “You really had me buying it, you know? You caring about me. Are all Changelings great at that?” 

“I did care.” Strickler’s throat is tight, his heartbeat hard in his chest. Damnation, but he shouldn’t react like this, like he’s under attack, he owes this boy nothing–

–he owes this boy everything–

“You didn’t make Mom cry, though. You’ve got that going for you.” Blue eyes meet his, glazed but still somehow focused upon him, a blade being trained upon a target, searching for damage to be done. “Just made her hate you. When she remembered it all, anyway. Now she just misses you. Why do we do that? Miss what hurts us the most? I used to miss my dad, y’know. But I got better. Maybe she’ll stop missing you.” 

Strickler closes his eyes, a terrible thing to do when faced with an enemy, and damnation, he never wanted this boy to be his enemy. 

Seeing him hold the amulet, that first time, and what did his traitorous heart say?

“No. Not him.” 

Jim sighs, long and thready and oh so tired, settling onto the hospital bed as best he can. “I never told her, y’know. About my troll hunting. I broke my promise. Guess that makes both of us liars. But my thing is, I care too much. You never cared at all.” 

“Lies.” Strickler wishes his voice was sharp, a blade to defend himself with, but instead it’s a strained, whispery thing. “You think it that simple? You think I wouldn’t give anything not to care? I wish I had that power. I wish–”

I wish the amulet had never chosen you, I wish I had never met your mother, I wish I had never tasted her kiss, I wish I had never cared at all–

“I do care.” The admission is soft, barely clearing his teeth. Jim doesn’t even seem to hear it, so near silence it is. Strickler blames the thing in his throat, whatever the hell it is. He clears his throat, tries again. “I do care, Young Atlas.” 

Jim is silent, his eyes closed, lashes low upon his young cheeks. Gods willing, he could be sleeping off that damned, truth-inducing medication…

Jim’s whisper is soft. “Then act like it, Dad.”