Finding Home Again - A Trollhunters story

Chapter 12 - An explanation

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This chapter is pretty short but I hope you like it

   Jack, a serious–looking teenager, sat near the top of the stairs, legs bent in front of him, listening to his parents argue.

   It was the last thing he wanted to do late at night with a book to finish reading, but a gnawing need to know what his parents were talking about overcame him.

   Curiosity killed the cat.

   "Darling, James needs you to be there for him! How many times have I told you and you have done nothing, hmm?" Jack's mother's melodious but strained voice carried a lot more than she probably thought it did. She continued, "We are the ones responsible for helping him grow into someone reliable and healthy. Please take this a little more seriously."

   "I AM!" her husband shouted, his deep voice pitched with his irritation. "I am," he repeated, and Jack could hear his heavy footfalls as he paced the hallway. "I have been trying, but honestly, how much do you think we'll really be able to effect? He's gone off the rails more than once before. I've been talking to him and trying to bring him to a counsellor, but he refuses to let anyone tell him what he needs to fix. He is stubborn, you know that!"

   "Of course I know that," She stated coldly. "He got that from you."

   A moment of silence.

   Jack's breathing suddenly seemed too loud, and slowed it, a frown on his face.

  He didn't want to hear any more. He knows how these kinds of arguments end. Jack slowly stood and carefully-so as not to let his parents know where he was-and walked back to his room, glimpsing through the wide crack in James' bedroom door, where he slept soundly. James couldn't hear the conversations his parents were having about him late at night because he always flopped into bed earlier than Jack did, and he slept deeply.

   I envy you, Jack mouthed forlornly, then turned away and stepped into his own room.

  "James and I grew up with wealthy parents, who are both deceased now. As we were growing up when they were still here, he was constantly getting in trouble because of his restlessness. He wanted something different than everything we already had, and decided to steal a chunk of our family's money and... ran away with it. This was a long time ago, but I suspect he still has some of it unspent and hidden. James didn't show his love for his family the same way I did, and didn't feel things the way the others did. I still haven't figured him out.  Anyway, I only discovered that he had started a family with you a few years after he left the family and our mother died.   I've been searching for him for a while. He was always good at hiding, but I don't want to give up on him."

   Barbara took her glasses off and rubbed at them with the hem of her tank top. Putting them back on, she reached over and poured water in three mugs, then handed one to Jack.

   Surprised, Jack said thank you and she nodded. Steam curled delicately off the surface of the tea. "When my mom was... on her deathbed, she - she told me she wanted James back, part of the family, so that's what I've been trying to achieve. Hasn't worked, obviously. I wanted to talk to you and just...let you know that I'm here to help if you ever need anything.

   She sighed, and said decidedly, "I don't know what to say, Jack. Me and Jim don't need any help. We're doing perfectly fine right now." 

   Jack nodded. "I understand."

   Barbara took the remaining mugs in her hands. "I'm going up to Jim now. If you want, you can... sit down somewhere, if you want. I appreciate it, I do. I'm sorry that you didn't succeed." She looked at him with a small smile. "I'm sure you'd like to stay and talk to the Trolls"

   He grinned, curiosity sparking in his chest. He'd desperataly been trying to research about the magical creatures that were known so well in Arcadia. 

   She left, leaving him alone with his mug of tea. He lifted it to his lips and took a sip, then gagged and started choking.

   "Hey, are you alright, man?" Toby asked, looking into the kitchen at him.

   "Ahem. Yeah, Thanks." 

   Apparently earl grey wasn't his thing.

   Jim sat up and accepted the mug from his mom with a quiet "thank you" and a smile. She sat in a chair next to his bed and reached toward him with her free hand. He leaned closer and let her tuck his bangs behind his ear.

   Nostalgia for his childhood pervaded him for a moment, and he craved to just be a child again, a child that could always cling tight to his mother. Things used to be simpler, and he missed that. At the same time, though, he had gained so much: new friends, new family, people he felt responsible for and protective of.

    He felt restless now, and shifted his legs, lifting the mug to his lips. But brief, electric pain shot through his leg. Jim grunted in surprise, spilling some of the tea on his blanket.

   "What is it, Jim?" Barbara asked, her forehead wrinkling.

   "My leg just started hurting,"

   "That's gonna have to be normal for the next few days. The painkillers I gave you a while ago are wearing off. Can I see it?"

   Jim pulled away the blanket from his legs and showed her. Her gentle hands fiddled with the bandage and he tried not to flinch as she pulled the bandage off to peek under. "It looks okay. Should heal normally," she told him, reapplying the white fabric to his leg.

   "Thanks," he said, leaning back and drinking some of the tea.

   He tasted strongly brewed earl grey. Not what his mom usually made, but good nonetheless.