They had been married for three weeks when he showed up.

Both Walter and Barbara had decided to be wed when the summer heat began its annual descent under the horizon. They also agreed to have an intimate ceremony under the guise of moonlight, with only a select few invited- i.e. Jim and the very small number of trolls that were guaranteed not to strangle the groom.

It was one of the very few moments in his life where Walter was completely and utterly content with his decision, and the one time he felt true bliss. He found it in every stitch of Barbara's ivory dress, in every smile that she couldn't contain as they exchanged vows, and in every ardent touch they shared in secret. For three wonderful weeks- twenty one absolutely incredible days- Walter knew the beautiful simplicity of pure happiness.

Then he opened the door.

It was a wonderfully normal Monday morning, and Walter was sitting at the dining table, enjoying a cup of hot coffee and reading a book on the Roman Republic. It may have been a heavy subject for the average person so early in the morning, but the high school principal found this particular book to be quite repetitive and rudimentary. He found his concentration straying from the stately red of the cavalry standard to memories of soft auburn hair sliding between his fingers; him awakening to a dream of languid heartbeats and pale threads of morning light, to her warmth and realness. Setting the book down, the changeling rested his chin on his hand, sighing as he daydreamed of his magnificently distracting wife.

Wife…

His wife…

He didn't bother to contain his throaty chuckle as he thought of this. It was too bad that said wife was still at the hospital: Her night-shift had turned into a day-shift, which Walter quickly discovered was the norm in this household. Of course, he missed her, but he knew it made her happy; just like how she made him happy-

The doorbell rang loudly throughout the house, chasing away Walter's fantasy and pulling him back into reality. His fingers gave three quick strums on the table, perplexed, before he stood up and made his way to the front. When he reached the door, he felt it; so familiar and so unwanted as it settled heavily in his chest.

Dread.

Walter cautiously opened the door… and faced a complete stranger. It was a man, who looked to be in his early to mid forties. He was obviously not a solicitor, for he wore a faded brown leather jacket over a grey graphic tee and didn't have a plastered grin. His face was slightly weathered, making him look too rugged for a place like Arcadia (at least on the surface). Gripping the doorknob tighter, Walter said, "May I help you?"

The stranger seemed mildly surprised at his presence. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke the rough tenor of his voice irritated Walter for some reason, "Uh, hi there. Does a Barbara Lake live here?"

Raising a scrutinizing brow, Walter straightened, subtly blocking the entrance, "And who exactly is wanting to see my wife?"

"Oh," The stranger briefly scratched the dark beard of his jawline, thinking. He sighed, then smiled almost grimly, "I'm an old friend of hers."

Utter nonsense. Walter narrowed his eyes but kept a thin smile. With each passing moment he had a growing suspicion about who this mystery man might be. On the outside the changeling was perfectly composed, albeit perhaps a tad cold. But, on this inside, he was wary. Walter held onto the silence between them just long enough to make the stranger feel uncomfortable before he speculated with purposeful diction, "An old friend, you say..?"

"Yep."

There was no way Walter was letting him in the house. But, he wouldn't mind toying with him a little. Crossing his arms, he mused, "It's curious. When people say 'old friend,' it's usually implied that one: their relationship has faded away over time, rendering what they had as insignificant, or two: There was a falling out that was never mended, perhaps from an altercation or a betrayal. Which one are you, mister…?" Walter snapped his fingers, feigning forgetfulness, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"I never said," The man answered decisively, "but, it seems like you already know who I am."

"Indeed." Walter shifted, prepared to close the door, "I don't know why you are here, and frankly, I don't care. I think it would be wisest if you-"

"James?"

Both men quickly turned to see a shocked Barbara standing stock still in the driveway. It looked as though someone had plucked her right from work and placed her here. Her usually neat hair was slightly mussed from her long shift and she still wore her signature seagreen uniform. Any fatigue she had was wiped away upon seeing the man at her doorstep, her fathomless blue eyes wide with shock.

Her ex-husband smiled, punctuated with a sense of melancholy. It frustrated Walter to no end, like annoying little pixies (Perhaps this is just a vision, he thought hopelessly, because he knew it was not.) He was even angrier when the man spoke to her as if he really was an old friend, "Hey there, Barb. It's been a long time."

Barbara walked up to him with hurried steps, clutching her purse tightly. Was she going to wallop him? Walter hoped so. "James! What- What in the world are you doing here?"

"I just-" Another sigh, "wanted to talk, is all."

Walter studied his wife as she just stared at James, as though his presence was not processing correctly in her brain. Her words seemed automatic as she asked, "Has something happened?"

"Well, yes and no. Look…" James ran a hand through his thick dark hair, the three lines on his forehead becoming more distinct, "Could we maybe talk inside?"

There was a pause before Barbara shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts. Walter stared at her incredulously when she replied, "Y-yes. Come in."

He scarcely had time to move before the two made their way inside, and he found their retreating backs stirred up an urgent sense of anxiety. "Barbara dear, is this a good idea?" Walter called after her, loathing the desperate tone in his voice.

She barely turned to look at him as she said, "It's fine, Walt. I'm sorry, but could you give us some privacy?"

The request felt like a dagger to the heart, "Yes, privacy. Of course." With that he trudged down to the basement, feeling both hollow and filled with worry. Though his male pride did feel vaguely threatened, that was not what was bothering him. No, it was much more complicated than that.

Walter took a seat on one of the rickety lawn chairs, pondering. Luckily, he had the privacy to do so ever since Draal was accepted back into the Troll Market almost a year ago.

Why did that sleazy traitor have to come back? If he was looking for redemption, he didn't deserve it, and if he was hoping to win Barbara back- well, she certainly wouldn't let that happen. Ever since Barbara told Walter how James abandoned her and Jim out of the blue, he could clearly see that the road to where she was now had been arduous. She wouldn't let the life she worked so hard for be crumbled into dust by one man. That's what made Walter love her as much as he did, and it was also what made her so difficult to win back.

A slow fifteen minutes crept by as Walter stared at the ceiling, constantly wondering what they were talking about. He supposed he could have taken a short walk or perhaps worked on preparing for the upcoming school year, but he craved the dimly lit seclusion of the basement. It permitted him to let his guard down as he tried to get a grip on his emotions. That man- James- reminded Walter how normal Barbara's life was before all of this troll business. He was something that the changeling could never fully be- human. How absolutely human her world was, and then he himself came along and just had to fall in love with her. It was a long journey, but Barbara helped Walter to block out the guilt about making their lives more complicated because of what he was.

Not a changeling, no. That was a minor obstacle.

But being the second person that had betrayed them.

Walter groaned softly, hunching over and rubbing his forehead. As he brought his hand down, he stopped and stared at his open palm. In a tangle of electric light, he transformed into his troll form. The hand that once relatively soft and delicately lined was now rough and clawed. Walter had no qualms about this side of him, and he knew Barbara loved him this way just as much as his human form (oh, he knew alright). However, sometimes his troll self reminded him of his past grievances with the Lake family. How Barbara was able to forgive him, he'll never know. But, he didn't deserve it.

So, what right did he have to judge this human man whose faults were so pale in comparison?

It had been an hour.

Walter, still in his troll form, idly twisted one of his knives around his fingers. He watched it go back and forth, back and forth, as he thought about how they were talking to each other back and forth, back and forth. Just when he began to feel boredom set in, he heard the front door shut. The gleaming knife halted as he heard the old steps to the basement creak and a voice call out, "Walt? Are you down here?"

Jolting out of his seat, he answered, "Yes."

Barbara's head peeked around the wall. Her lips were upturned in an apologetic smile when she saw her husband, "Sorry it took so long." She walked up to him as he changed back into his human visage, "Did I make you worry?"

"You didn't make me worry."

She squeezed his hand before they both went back up the stairs, "No one is going to steal me away."

"That's what Helen thought, and look what happened." He quipped, trying to blanket his nerves. Barbara only laughed as they moved to the couch. After they sat down, Walter eyed her warily. She seemed so… calm. It was quite strange and unexpected.

Somehow knowing that he wanted her to say something, Barbara sighed as she brushed back a stray hair, "You want to know what we talked about."

"Yes, actually."

"Well," She took a collective breath, rubbing her hands atop her thighs, "James wanted to see us- that is, Jim and I- for a while, but he didn't have the courage to get his butt over here. Then, he had heard about our marriage from a distant friend. He told me that he wanted to apologize for leaving us before we were settled into our new lives."

"And is that what happened?" the changeling asked, "Did he apologize?"

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

"I…" Barbara released a single breathy laugh, like she couldn't believe what she was going to say, "I forgave him, but told him there was no longer a place for him in my world."

"Is that really forgiveness?"

Hearing the hollow tone in her husband's voice, Barbara turned her head to see him resting his elbows on his knees and nursing his hands under his chin. "What do you mean?"

"You say you forgave him, but you don't want him in your life whatsoever. Is erasure forgiveness, Barbara?"

He could tell she was starting to bristle at what sounded like an accusation, "What, should I have invited him over for dinner? Thanksgiving?"

Straightening, Walter raked a frustrated hand through his hair. It was growing exceedingly difficult to clearly say what he wanted. "Of course not. I just don't see how you could forgive him so easily."

Oh, now he did it. "Easy? Walter, it took me years- years- to get over James. For the first three months I cried in my pillow every night because of him. But, I persevered. I had to!" She shifted to face him fully on, her eyes passionate, "And I'm going to tell you exactly what I told him: James chose to leave us. That was his decision. It was my decision to faze him out of my life when I realized that I was never going to get him back. As a consequence, any love I had for him is now gone. It was easier to forgive him and let him go." Calming down, she placed a gentle hand on her husband's shoulder, "Now, why are you so angry at me?"

She still didn't understand. How could she? Walter barely understood it himself. "I'm not angry at you."

"Well, something's obviously got you riled up! What is it, Walt?"

It was then the dam was opened, releasing crashing waves of emotion, and Walter was caught in the tide, "I'm angry at how he hurt you and Jim. And I'm angry that I shouldn't have the right to be angry!"

The silence was heavy, but needed as Barbara took in what he said. "That's a lot of anger for one person." She said this to lighten the mood, but it was the truth.

Finally, Walter turned to her, his eyes cast in a swirling turmoil of green, "Barbara, how can you turn away from a singular mistake made years ago and still face the one person who has hurt you more times than you deserve?"

The way she looked at him made Walter feel like a tiny sparrow with broken wings, helpless and in need of care. He suddenly sensed a warm pressure on his arm as Barbara leaned against him, grabbing hold of his hand. She was quiet when she said, "It's not that simple."

He was quiet as well, "Then, please explain."

The tide began to settle as she spoke, her words soft against the storm, "Though my relationship with James was far from perfect, I still loved him. I was happy, but obviously he wasn't. It would've been so much easier to dismiss him abandoning us, but there was more to it. He lied about loving me. He lied about wanting the family life, and instead of telling me the truth, he ran away."

"But, I ran away as well."

Barbara sat up to look at him, the intense expression she wore was so lovably genuine, "You didn't run away. You distanced yourself for my sake and Jim's. I knew we would've been in danger if you stayed. Once Jim told me about this Trollhunter business again, I also knew that the decision must've been so painful for you." She placed a hand on his cheek, caressing the skin with her thumb, "I was still incredibly angry at you, but you leaving felt so different than with James. That's how I realized you were worth having in my life."

Sighing raggedly, Walter hugged his fantastic- absolutely remarkable- wife. He was so undeserving of her, yet here he was, holding her fiercely against him. Pressing his face into her red hair, he mumbled, "Thank you, Barbara."

He parted from her when she tapped his shoulder. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him gently, "Please try not to get so caught up in the past, honey. I'm here in the present."

The summer light lined her with a soft hue, her hair a halo of red and her form real and whole and right in front of him.

Yes, she was here.