Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hey! 

New itch, new oneshot collection fic! 

ONLY FOR AGE REGRESSION.

Comment moderation is on, so comments will be hidden to allow you all to request with confidence knowing only I will see them. No judgement, skies the limit! Request many too if you want, just know I may not write all of them as this is my choice to allow requests so I have full right to reject. Please don't pressure me either to update, as this is my time I'm giving away to write!

Please don't be deetered by these though, I just want to establish a boundaries to avoid issue! 

I'm fine with say, Diapers, Bottles, Pacis, whatever floats your boat honestly, so emphasis on don't be shy and afraid. 

Word count will vary. Some may turn out being drabbles, others longer, but I do promise to keep everything at least 500+ words each. 

I will take AUs, however one I will refuse to try for is human, funnily enough. Or ones that alter who they are too much. A little bit modern for the kind of universe they're in is fine. 

I do enjoy classification, to which if you don't know is an AU in which roles of caregiver or little are assigned by either some biological mean or to have some sort of system, so do what you will with that. 

Please be detailed if you can about what you want, or at least give me some specific details you would like me to include! If you just give me characters I'll take liberty and write something of my own inspiration hehe. 

I'm fine writing heavy angst, but please clarify exactly what you want and I'll see if I'll write it. Rating may change to T if things such as language or the sad stuff is a lot, but no higher as I want to keep this SFW as possible. 

As always, NSFW is a big no no. 

Have fun! 

EDIT.

I believe a misunderstanding has been made.

This is not 'Request Any Sort Of Fic Idea You Want Me To Write' page, this is a request specifically and ONLY for AGE REGRESSION oneshots I could write, I thought I was obvious enough with that. While I do understand some of them have simply been innocent mistakes by my lack of clarification and therefore I have no problem forgiving those and putting them on my fic ideas list for the future, I received multiple that are very much not mistakes.

I do not appreciate the information page being blatantly ignored. you can't just dump things here and expect something to come out of it knowing it goes against what I asked.

I'm a easily emotional person, and therefore easily offended by the lack of respect shown towards me as the person offering to write for you for a very specific subject.

I will put a stop to consistent updates if this happens too many times again, and this will be ruined for everybody until I decided to open up again and continue.

My time, my rules. I asked kindly, but my kindness has limits.

Chapter Text

Branch was a gray Troll, that much was true. But Poppy knew better than to take his rejections to heart. She knew all too well the signs of anxiety, fear, of longing. She knew that being gray didn't take away everything that made him a troll, and meant that at least something terrible happened for him to lose his reasons to be happy, to lose himself in whatever pain he experienced. 

He was still a troll regardless, an important piece that makes their village complete despite the disputes and turf between him and everyone. She knew better than to leave him alone to fend for himself when it's clear all he ever needed was someone to depend on, even when no one could ever manage to get close. 

She knew, and now she knew that better than anyone could ever know. 

How could anyone ever allow it to get this bad? She went to bother him again and provide unwanted company, and now she is debating just what to do now after finding him. He was so unlike himself yet, still the same. He refused to look her in the eyes, hidden away behind some leaves outside when she had found him. She'd never really seen him this close before, or at least never took the time to really see him.

He looked tiny, curled up in the shadows and waiting for seemingly nothing, just breathing heavily and staring at anywhere that isn't her. “Branch?” Tentatively, she took a step forward, but stopped when he leaned away. “What's wrong?”

He didn't say anything, but his face spoke for him anyway. He'd always been easy to read in a way. He looked like he swallowed a lemon, eyes shiny and so very clearly wanting something but not knowing how to say it. 

“Branch?”

He said nothing, and she assumed then, she would be overstepping when he clearly, genuinely, would not be able to entertain their dynamic.

However, when she said, “I'm sorry for butting in on your alone time.” And made to turn around, instantly he snapped up, palms on the ground ready to cause her and eyes so wide with despair she could not hide her sharp intake of breath. “...!”

He said nothing, but… tears. Waiting to fall as he clenched his hands and bowed his head, his voice so small and meek she had to ask, “what was that?”

“... Don't go.”

“Huh?”

He sniffles, and his expression falls into something so pitiful as he sobs silently, “Don't leave me.” 

Don't leave me. 

Words spoken with so much raw emotion, more than anything he's ever expressed and immediately she falls to her knees, holding out her hands in a non threatening way, “okay! Okay. Hey, hey branch it's okay. I won't leave.” He scrubs his face messily, and hugged his knees close to his chest again as he hiccuped. She scooted over, agonizingly slow and her knees hurt already but he didn't lean away, at least. 

“It's okay, I won't leave you.” He finally meets her eyes. Such pretty wide blues that shouldn't look so sad. She finds herself wishing she could have known they're real shade, his real colors, wishing to know why he's the way he is. He looks so soft, so round in the face even with his premature crows feet and bangs deep and swollen. He taps his fingers, and says, “promise.”

“Hm?”

“Promise won't leave.”

He missed a word there. 

“I won't. I'll stay forever if I have too. I won't leave unless you want me to, okay?” She tries to give him her best smile, and, tentatively, opens her arms. She doesn't expect him to want a hug, but he's full of surprises. He hesitates, but he bites his li, and she carefully gathers him up, allowing him to lean against her shoulder or pull away if he wants to. He's cold. Colder than a troll should be, at least. He sniffles, and she simply holds him. 

It's a while before he calms down. Snuggled close and looking better than ever even if he's emotionally drained and eyes irritated. “Do you want to go back to your bunker?” He nods, and she gets them up. He takes her hand, and she says nothing when his grip tightens and he stumbles behind. 

She doesn't know how to get in, but Branch knows, and soon she's going down a long elevator. There are so many cavities dug out, supplies filling each pocket to last years, probably. 

Her stomach turns. 

He stops the lift, and with barely steady steps, drags her to his supposed room. 

It's cozy, and it's sad. 

His bed, old and worn with old blankets and pillows is shoved into the furthest corner. Bookshelves were carved in, all sorts of things that aren't just books stored and kept nearby. A little recliner on another end, handmade just like everything else inside. It's well lived in, and cared for. 

It feels too lonely for a single troll. 

He's quick to let go and shyly thanks her for not leaving until he was back home. “If you want, I can stay.” He'd already tucked himself away when she speaks up, his back turned towards her and ears droopy. He stills, but says, “Okay.”

And she stays, sitting on the edge of his bed and hearing his breathing soften. 

He was so lost then, like a little kid just wanting to be helped. 

Branch is definitely going to wall her off for a while, but she's persistent, and she will not back down this time. He broke down, and he needs help, and she can and will offer that. Whatever their barely existing friendship is will probably be ruined for a bit, but things will be okay once she gets him to open up now that she's seen him so vulnerable, and once he knows she will be more than willing to be there for him. 

He can't be alone. Not anymore. Not under her watch. 

Because at that moment, he had been nothing more than a little kid. 

She hums a lullaby, even if he can't hear it, but she swears she sees his skin flush the tiniest hint of blue. 

Chapter Text

Regression. That was the most logical word for it. 

It being these too long moments where he feels tiny and defenseless, where he wants nothing more but those childish wishes to be taken care of and cared for. He knew why he ended up with this problem and why he always was so little, because only a little two year old would know what being abandoned by some of the only people in your life is like. 

Bless Poppy, who had been by his side since the moment they met and loved every part of him, welcoming every bit of him with open arms. It was hard enough, allowing himself to finally be open about it to Poppy, and find a way to help fix this issue and at least have a sensible schedule for it.

It was harder to do so when his brothers came back into his life. 

The four men who walked out on him and are centerpiece as the cause for his regressive bouts, because for all he denies it all he ever wanted in the end was for them to finally see him again, for both who he is now and what has become of him. 

It's hard, because he's afraid to allow them in and see that. He doesn't want his brothers to ever leave him again, try as he might to hate them for doing so in the first place. He has them back again, and he's not going to allow his childish wants to get in the way of restoring his relationship with his family. He'll keep it hidden and make sure none of them find out. Ever. 

—

That vow lasted, surprisingly, only three weeks. 

It's hard to keep things hidden when living with four older brothers who want to be all over his business because they feel guilty, so he can at least applaud himself for being so shut tight for as long as he was able to. 

“Branch, what's all this?” They're in his bedroom, looking through his stuff.

Floyd knew better than to get himself directly involved, and by the absence of his crutch, he was probably hauled over one of their brothers’ shoulders. Even then he wasn't entirely innocent, the little stuffed caterbug in his hands, the one poppy made for him when he first allowed her to look after him. Clay is paging through the scrapbooks he's made when small while Bruce is looking over his shoulder with a too soft expression, and John Dory is holding the fleece blanket he and his friends he's trusted enough to tell tied together, each square representing each of them. 

They're in his room, looking through the very important stuff that had all to do with his very important secret. 

“Guys.” Floyd's voice is cutting, the small smile on his face immediately dropping and Branch realizes he's his entire expression had fallen into something probably not nice, fists clenched tightly it probably left pale dents into his skin. “You're in my room.” He heaved, anger slowly beginning to bubble over, “what are you doing looking through my stuff?” he doesn't mean to yell, but he nearly does and clay snaps shut the book, and Floyd looks at the stuffed toy strangely.

“Well- we figured you wouldn't mind, since we've already been in here before.” 

“Did I ever let you guys snoop around those times?”

“It's not like we're looking into every nook and cranny.”

“Branch,” Bless Bruce, who's tone is gentle and despite his anger, Branch softens, “I know you don't like us up all over your business but well, we couldn't really help ourselves all that much. I guess we're too nosey.” “You guess?”

Floyd raised an arm, silently asking for help standing up and Clay does so, handing the book to Bruce who decides to open it again. “Did you make these?” Branch's face feels warm, but he sighs, his initial anger becoming just annoyance. Of course his brothers would be all up in his business. ”yes, I did.” and Bruce grins brightly, “These are so cute! There's so many, too.” He couldn't help but feel good about the praise. 

Floyd, with the help of Clay, had managed to get across the room and held out his beloved toy. Immediately he takes if in his hands with care that does not go unnoticed, hugging it to his chest

Poppy's candied scent is still lingering, and he finds himself wishing she was here, because she would know how to lead this conversation better than he could. 

“Uhm…”

“Yknow with how you've been since we got back together I didn't think you'd be into this cutesy stuff.” John hadn't meant to sound condescending at all, but it only made Branch's nerves act up as the oldest looked over to him, his expression melting into something that just makes his chest ache. “That toy is so cute! Did Poppy give it to you?”

“Uhm, yeah, because… uh.”

“Yeah?”

Fuck it, at this point, he might as well tell them about it to prevent them from snooping further. 

“you- you know, how you guys… left me back then right? And, grandma dying soon really hit hard.” he was absolute shit at this, but at least they were listening and knew he was trying to open up to them,”Since we escaped, and I got a little older after swearing off anything happy like that I kind of broke from my whole depressive phase for a tiny bit.” Clearing his throat, he distracts himself by lightly petting the toy, picking off a loose piece of lint, “I kinda of hit a breaking point, and… essentially, I don't know of there's a better word for it, but I've had regressive episodes where I'm just- just a little kid and can actually start doing the fun stuff again.” He shrugs off their suddenly too sad looks, “I'm just telling you guys now because you guys found this stuff since it's that important, so…” it's awkward, they stare at him and branch regrets never practicing his socialization skills because he really could have broken the news better, instead of awkwardly fidgeting. 

“How little?”

“He blinks, “ huh?”

More gently, Clay says, “How little do you get?” His gaze is all too knowing. He knows exactly what branch is talking about. There's story there, but it also brings relief that one of his brothers knows. 

“...we tried to put an exact number on it, but sometimes I'm more like a toddler.” 

“And we left you when you were just that.”

Yeah, ouch. He realizes they've crowded him, but it's not in a confrontational way at all. They all look at him like nothing more than a fragile little trolling, someone they needed to keep safe and protect and, how long had he'd hoped they'd look at him like that for this reason?

“Branch, nothing will fix what we did, but I know we all want to be here now. Thank you for being brave enough to tell us about this, even if we don't deserve such an important secret at all. You're so precious to us, no matter how terrible you must have thought about it. If anything, if you ever need us to help you and take care off you we will, and we'll do by you right.” a hand is on his shoulder, squeezing gently and grounding him that yes, this is real. 

“... That's the most mature speech I've heard from you ever, John Dory.”

“Way to ruin the moment Bruce.”

His brothers just accepted it, just like that. They offered to help him out, offered to give him what he's craved. Just like that, and he feels, stupid because of course his brothers would jump at the opportunity to bond with their littlest and the one they probably failed the most with their early departure. 

He smiles. It's just another Tuesday, and if he allows himself to drop right then and there, he could, if he wanted to. Not now, obviously.

Chapter Text

Viva was lighter in color. 

She had also woken them up in shambles and had to be calmed by their father because she had a nightmare about the Bergens coming for them again. Poppy had no idea why this was happening, because while Viva was simply energetic like her, she wasn't childish or uncoordinated by any means. She was behaving more like an older toddler now, more like a kid. Poppy could do nothing about it or help her much, because only their father knew this fear deeply and remembered her well enough from her actual toddler years to take care of her the way she needed. 

If that wasn't enough trouble, a disheveled ex-boy band added to her confusion. “Is this the first time this has happened to him?” While they were anything but bothered or annoyed about their littlest brother being a sweet cuddly little thing again, they were worried because they didn't know what it implied, didn't even know him well enough to know how off this was. 

*well… Clay, I think you can speak for Viva, but for Branch… I can't say it's ever been like this. ” Branch had decided he much rather be in Floyd's arms out of all his brothers, a finger loose in his mouth as he simply stared at whoever was speaking even though he could barely follow the conversation by the looks of it. He was content at least, and had barely made a fuss since he first burst into a sudden crying fit but the story they told her.

Coincidentally, just as the sun was going up he broke out into wails(most likely from a renewed nightmare)that had them nearly digging new holes just to get to his room to see what's wrong. From what they observed, he was more like a toddler, not quite ready to be too far away and still displaying babyish habits, unlike viva who was a little older and way more outgoing. 

Viva had taken a liking to him, liked he was seemingly smaller than she was(perhaps, bittersweetly, reminding her of a much younger version of Poppy), and had to be gently pulled away to keep peace, as Branch had very much not liked another pushy force invading his space and threatened to cry. “Normally he sometimes shuts down and just rather hover around me but I never thought more of it because he's always kinda like that.” She shrugs, her tone soft as she looks at her boyfriend with a gentle smile. She keeps her distance, but quietly coos over how sweet he's being. “He is so sweet and cute, but never this much.” Branch offers her a smile when she waves at him with a small, “hello~”. He knows who she is, at least. He recognizes them all. He's not completely submerged in whatever this is. 

Clay rubbed his chin, “Well, the only thing I can remember are the times that's close to this is Viva asking me to draw with her or me having to tail her so she wouldn't hurt herself hopping over the things in the refugee… . But other than that, she's always been just happy to be around and responsible…maybe she does hide for a while sometimes-” Viva had grown bored exploring every inch of the pod trying to find anything interesting since she wasn't allowed to play with branch, and decided to find her father, leaving the pod much to the alarm of the others.

“Ah, shhhhoot!” Clay was quick to follow her out, and Bruce was the only one who had a fond, all too knowing look on his face as he watched them go. “Kids are crazy fast. And crazy. Super crazy. Honestly Poppy, if your family needs help with her I'm here for y'all. I already asked Brandi to cover for me back at home so I can stay a while, so it'd be no problem, I'm practically an expert in this whole dad thing.” he reaches over, tickling Branch's chin, getting his hand swatted away along with a quiet petulant “No” in return much to their amusement. 

“Yes! Thank you! We would appreciate it!! I know dad already did this whole toddler thing twice buuut…” she giggled nervously, and it only widened his grin. At that moment, a distant crash is heard and the conversation fizzles there. 

Satin and Chenille were a twin force that could barely be held back after seeing what had become of the two trolls(trollings?)- and branch, specifically. Of course the rest of the snack pack was too, the girls just liked putting their knitting skills to good use since tiny diamond refused any of the cute clothes they made. This was pretty good blackmail, too. To think, awkward and weird ex-grump branch, just a little shy thing. 

“This is SO cute, Branch is SO good to hate us for allowing this.” John Dory's face puckers in a bit of an ugly way, referring to the soft knitted one piece in his hands. Poppy stands next to him holding another new sweater with the same face(only prettier, of course). Viva was already sporting a new skirt and was on Cooper's back, demanding he run which he complied to with a laugh. She had found the self proclaimed snack pack instead on her little mission and liked them enough to stick around. 

Surprisingly, Branch had taken well to the others, if well mean he hasn't fussed at all and didn't seem overly bothered, but rather happy to not be left out of the share of affection. Actually craves it, if he isn't too shy. 

Thinking too deeply about it makes their hearts ache, so they ignore it and instead indulge in this new development. “Don't even think about it you two. Do you really wanna mess up the chance to have this little guy around again after this?” Branch giggles when Bruce holds him up. “Right Bitty B? It would be totally uncool if we stuff you into the cutest fit ever. Like we would never do that.”

“You want to so bad it's so embarrassing.”

“B I think I hear an annoying bug buzzing around.”

“Guys…” Well, they were just bickering, so Floyd only intercepted gently, adjusting his crutch to see the new pieces of clothing, curiosity getting the best of him. “It's about time he gets a new wardrobe-” “-he's had those rags for ages , something cute to match his colors-” “would be such a good change for once.” The girls’ synchronization makes shivers travel up their spine, Bruce grimacing and letting Branch down on his feet, keeping him from stumbling over himself. “I will never understand how yall do that.” However Clay high fives them and praises their thinking. 

Poppy sighed, glancing over at Cooper who has Viva clinging to his neck as he twirls, “gosh dammit I swear I'm going to have a long talk with both of them about whatever this. I can't bear the thought of them having to deal with these kinds of feelings by themselves and for this long.”

Biggie only coos, holding out Mr Dinkles for Branch to toddler over for, “Don't be too hard on them Poppy, just look at them! I do hope that on our behalf you tell them how much we care and would like to help them out!”  he takes hold of Branch's stretched out hand to help him, allowing him to touch his beloved pet.

“Of course I won't be hard on them for it. I guess I'm just sad for them…I don't think them not being all there is supposed to happen.“ Viva seems to have had enough of Cooper, and runs over, suddenly interested in Mr.Dinkles too. “Maybe they had too much on their plates? Probably some version of blacking out, ya know.” Well, that's plausible. 

Poppy hums, seeing how well Bigge is with the little ones, “Hey Biggie, do you think you could watch over Branch and Viva with me until they come back to themselves?” The large troll pauses, “I would be honored to help Poppy, but why Banch? No offense sweetie- they are his family, yes?”

“Yeah, we can take care of Bitty B, we're not just some randos to him.” Biggie wilted a little at the offended tone of JD, but Poppy frowned, “it's not that exactly. We all know Branch would be absolutely humiliated if you all stuck around for this until he came back to his senses. He's struggled enough trusting you guys again. The only ones he wouldn't throttle would be Biggie and I.”

“... Alright fine. You have a point. ”

“Plus, biggie is a good friend of ours, and his! No offense to the rest of you guys, of course.”

“Not at all!”

“They're so cute,” “, I hope this isn't just a one time thing.”

“me too, which is why biggie and I will be there to talk them through what just happened!” And well, they could do nothing more than wave farewell to their little brother, who smiles widely and waves back as he's led away gently. 

“He's still so cute.”

“Of course he is, he's our baby brother.”

“We definitely have a lot of making up to do and I'm glad we can still do that.”

“Aren't you guys so lucky I have a bunch of kids? C'mon, I'll give you guys a refresher on how to handle ‘em.”

It's in the middle of their coloring session in which branch comes back first.

He'd grown tired, overwhelmed, and had situated himself next to Biggie, Mr Dinkles mewing in his arms as he dozed lightly. He felt warm, and he felt relief , a weight of his shoulders he didn't know he had as he came into focus. It took a moment for him to register his arrival to the real world, the pleasant buzz in the back of his head clearing away as he blinked, and rubbed an eye with a small sound.  “Branch?” He looked up, Poppy looking at him with a little smile as she reached over to stroke his cheek softly, “Maybe we should put you down for a nap. It's been a long day for you huh?” he blinks, harsher, Because his eyes sting with a sudden wave of unwarranted emotions at the sheer care and affection from her. He realizes he's leaning against someone, and jumps, startling then all. “Branch?” He looks in his hands, and not only is he holding Mr Dinkles, but his brightened skin was going back to his regular dull hue.

“What…” 

“Branch?”

Biggie, the troll he sat next to him realizes that he's back to himself, because he gently takes back Dinkles- Which is a relief, honestly, because the pleasant feeling turns sour as he registers what's happened, muddled memories clearing up and a humiliated deep hue coloring his face. 

A yellow and pink blob catches the corner of his eye, and behind Poppy, Viva is too busy messily cutting paper and coloring for a new scrapbook. She's also lighter in hue, and it clicks for him in the most unwanted way possible. 

He must have made a horribly disturbed expression because Poppy immediately distances herself, and Biggie is quick to go to Viva, and quietly tell her they should go to his pod to finish her project. “What about Branch?” “Don’t ya worry, Poppy is with him.” She still isn't her adult self, so she doesn't feel the way he does yet . 

They leave, and immediately, poppy jumps to talk first before he can explode, “I need you to know that I will absolutely not let this go and as your girlfriend and best friend it is my duty to tell you I will always be there to support and help you. Talk to me , branch.”

He sputters, clawing at his chest as he makes a high pitched sound, “ They saw me like that.”

“Yep.”

“Our friends. My brothers.”

“They did.”

“ After all my complaining .”

“Sweetie,” she calls him, scooting closer and gently taking his hands into hers. “Do you know what happened to you?”

“I- I do but I hadn't- I didn't think it would get this far … “he sighed, and well, there's no point stalling any longer that he already had, “it's- you know how I just sometimes… shut down..?” 

“Yeah?”

“Well… I call those these regressive episodes where I'm just not me . It's like I'm a kid all over again and it was never like this! I never lost myself and I was never this little .” 

“... Do you think your brother's return could have triggered this to get this far?”

“... Definitely. ” He sighed, and took his hands back to rub away at the darkness in his cheeks, “I just- I guess I just missed them so much I just wanted things to be the way they were… but I also just wanted them to see me as me as an adult they returned to but now they'll never let me live this down.”

“Oh, c’mon Branch, you don't need to worry about it.”

“Yes I do , literally just earlier they were definitely going to stuff me into all that cutesy stuff. Last week they actually invited me out for drinks finally! All of that progress in the garbage .” and he's way more whiny than he normally is too because he's still feeling a little too small and that only adds to his despair. It does not help that Poppy cannot help herself anymore and has to cover her laughter.

“It is not funny.”

“No! Of course it's not…” she calms herself, and with that same sweet smile, says, “and surely you know then that all they want for you is to be happy and support you too. I know your brothers are a little insufferable with their doting but you and I both know it's only because they love you so much, especially since you're so much younger than them. I think if you tell them what you told me, they'll understand, and they'll back off for a while.”

“A while.”

“Yup.”

“You're saying it like I'm going to allow this to happen again.”

“Branch, why wouldn't you?”

“What do you mean why wouldn't I!?” he throws his hands up, eyes wide in immediate denial, “as if I would allow this to happen again!”

“ Branch. ” And immediately he stills,”Tell me how you felt while regressed , and after.”

“...”

“You know you can talk to me Branch, and you don't need to be scared because I will listen.” He sags, and fiddles with the hem of his vest. 

“It felt nice.” He muttered, and at her encouraging head nod, he continued with a sigh, “I just- it felt like nothing else mattered and I could just…Exist, I guess. I feel better than ever.”

“I think…” she starts, “Maybe you needed to have this kind of treatment again, and you unintentionally decided you needed to make up for lost time by. I think the same is happening with Viva. To suddenly have the family you lost back is a lot, and I think this might be good for you.”

He scoffs, “How?”

“Weeeeelllll you've always dealt with a lot of your past issues and traumas by just shoving it away until it boils or letting it consume you. You know, like before when you spend most of your life paranoid of burgers, and then with your abandonment issues acting up with your brothers coming back. I think this could be a good outlet to just let yourself go and get that time with your family too, to get that closure you need.”

It made sense, and he furrowed his eyebrows deeply, looking down at his lap. Poppy didn't mind him going quiet, and instead gathered him into a hug which he returned, clinging to her more tightly than he intended. “Tell you what, I'm going to go talk with Viva, and you can go talk to your bros and we can figure it out from there, okay?” 

His muffled, ‘Yeah’ was enough, and she kissed his cheek and they stayed for a little while longer until biggie came back and told her Viva wanted to see her.

“Viva?” 

Branch went off to the bunker to find his brothers, so she could have her pod to talk to her sister. 

She had shut the door a little too hard behind her and beelined to the couch, throwing herself over it and screaming into the soft cushion. 

“Viva-” 

And she shoots up, cutting her off and starting to ramble with a worried look, “I am so sorry for causing so much trouble for you and that this morning oh my god I know I'm all over the place but I was all over the place I need to apologize to Branch for almost making him cry to the nice vendor who forgave me after destroying a new pot to Cooper for demanding rides to biggie for almost rough handling Mr Dinkles to-”

“VIVA!”

She immediately shuts up with wide eyes, and Poppy apologizes quietly before clearing her throat, “Viva, just to clear things up, do you know what was that?” Immediately the older troll sags against the cushions, and nods, “Yeah, kind of. Oh my God, I'm sorry I don't know why that nightmare triggered me that badly but I swear it was never this bad. I mean yeah I was a handful and a half but like I was in the zone.”  

“But this is normal for you?”

“Yeah, kinda.” She's not in denial of it, but it does not sit well with her with how she follows up with, “I know it helps me, I know! It always helps me ground myself afterwards and it's good but ack!!! I got so out of hand today!!”

Poppy sat next to her sister, and didn't move away when she plopped her head on her shoulder. She took her hand and leaned her own head against hers, “why didn't you say anything sooner about it? You know dad and I only want you to be happy and healthy. I spoke with Branch, and figured you both regressed as far as you guys did because of this whole reunion thing. I think it's also why you both somehow did it on the same day.” She gently shrugged off viva, and met her eyes, “Clay has already taken care of you, what's more trolls to rely on?”

Viva whined, “you're so right and I hate it.”

“Thank you~”

“But-” she hesitated, anxious, “I know I'm a lot to handle. I just don't want to burden anyone. Honestly, I don't know if I want to let it get this far again.” She feels particularly bad about Clay having to chase her constantly back when they were still hidden, even though she knew he himself didn't mind those times at all, always giving her a fond and nostalgic look whenever she called him brother and insisted they do things together. Especially today, since, for all she can deny, Poppy looks tired and so did biggie, who had to juggle his attention between her and Branch because she wanted them all involved in her fun. 

She knows what the other must be thinking, because she says, “you wouldn't be burdening anyone at all, and you'd be hurting yourself if you don't allow yourself to let go more. I love you, and so does dad, and the boys. I'm sure dad missed having his little girl around.” and Poppy knows this is true, because she'd never seen their father so happy to have his eldest look at him with such wide eyes and ask him the most childish things. It'd been so long since she'd seen him this lively again, insistent on being able to keep up with her despite age pulling him behind. “You've been through so much , and this is the least we could do for you. “

Viva's eyes water, but she refuses to cry. She laughed instead and switched the conversation to something more lighthearted, “You think Branch won't mind me claiming him as a little brother?” 

Poppy allows her to do so knowing she's done, grinning widely and snickering, “Barb already claimed him, I'm sure he won't mind having two big sisters on top of four big brothers.”

“Oh, he's never going to beat the baby allegations.”

“I think he's finally learning to accept it.”

Quiet, and then, “I'm glad they're working things out. I'm glad we're working things out.”

“I'm glad too.”

“ hmp- looks like I still got it unlike you, JD .”

“Yeah yeah very funny. ”

Floyd only shook his head, hovering over Bruce, pointing up, “I don't think that's very safe.” Bruce, with one hand, is currently holding onto one of Viva's feet, while she balances herself with Branch tucked in her own head of hair. They're both having fun as they are all smiles and giggles, and Floyd can't really be too upset about his carelessness with the way Bruce doesn't seem to be struggling at all, and Branch looks down at him with a large grin, his colors brighter than ever. 

“Nah, don't worry I got 'em.” And he tosses them, forcing Branch to dislodge from Viva and catching both of them, one in each arm. “Take it from someone who has kids twice his size and a lady a lot more than that; that was nothing.” JD scoffs, a pout on his face which only served to stroke Bruce's ego. “Sorry your back can't handle these two armfuls of fun.” 

“Who said I couldn't? ” and he gasped in betrayal when Poppy buts in, “I dunno JD, when you first tried to carry Branch you were struggling… not to mention Viva knocked the wind out of you when she hugged you.” They all laughed at the embarrassed deep hue on his face, “I- I wasn't warmed up obviously!”

“Oh?”

Bruce let the two little ones on their feet, Viva already knowing what's up and creeping up on the eldest, meanwhile Branch decided his clay was more interesting now, mumbling something about his tummy and a puzzle. “Hey, hey, that's unfair!”

“Hey, it's only Viva. Surely you can handle her.” He didn't get another word in before she pounces and he's forced to catch her to avoid injury. Maybe they laughed a little too hard at the series of cracks and the groan of pain. Poppy was quick to snatch Viva away and watched fondly as Floyd sympathetically rubbed JD's back, scolding Bruce even while hiding his own laughter. Such is the way of family, it seems. 

Chapter Text

Slow days were some of the best days for the brothers. Slow days, referring to when Branch would regress quite young, a little younger than he normally would. Slow, because he wanted nothing more than to just be spoiled and doted on, and they were more than happy to fulfill his wish. The best days, because they'd stick together so closely and intimately, simply loving each other as they always have despite their troubles and disputes. 

“Look at him.” Clay's fingers carefully stroked the downward curve of the ear, unfortunately permanent but it does not change his love for his littlest brother. He goes over again, and lets his thumb smooth over the faded crows feet, and over his soft cheek. Again, he repeated the pattern, over his brow, and his hairline, over his nose and ghosting around the pacifier, simply admiring the face that never quite changed despite the years in between the last time he saw it. Maybe it'll just never change in their eyes. The face of his baby brother he loves so dearly. “He's still so soft.”

“You'll wake him if you keep doing that.” However JD was just as interested, hovering over them with a gentle look, his own hand making itself home in Clay's hair and gently combing through, undoing little knots. Right now it was just the three of them, the other two doing Branch's set tasks for the day, and wouldn't return until later in the afternoon. 

Branch had refused to let go of Clay's romper when they tried to put him to bed, and Clay was more than happy to oblige and have a cuddle session.

Branch snuffled, a soft little sound muffled by the pacifier- a newer addition. 

“don't let Branch know that I told y'all, but I found a little something he used to have while I was snoopin. Don't ask why I was.” Tiny diamond, apparently a baby troll despite his personality, whips out a pacifier from his hair, a ring pop pacifier to be specific, bedazzled with a blue B in the middle. 

It was his old pacifier, when they were still together, when he first started making his appearance with the band. A symbol of him officially being in, of sorts 

For a baby, Tiny was exceptionally perceptive, and knew very well Branch would benefit from allowing an old comfort again, having also known about how Branch was allowing himself downtime and working through his troubles by regressing. 

“No way.” 

“Branch, baby,” the soft spoken nickname was one that always softened Branch like butter, one they've needed to start using carefully as it was starting to become a bit of a trigger, “it wouldn't hurt for you to have more, you know.” Floyd took one of Branch's hands, and gently placed the newer, much better suited pacifier in his palm, “you know we would never judge you, and that we only want you to have all you've ever needed and wanted.”

The pacifier bobbed momentarily as Branch settled once more, languidly suckled without a single thought, only for the fact it's even in his mouth to begin. He curled up, leaning more towards his brother and he settled just like that, easy as ever. Clay croons, and hugs him close, practically whining, “I wish Branch allowed us to take pictures. Or just let us cuddle him more when he's big.”

The hand buried in his hair left, only to gently stroke his cheek for a moment before pulling back and JD leaned down to give them each a kiss on the forehead. “I dunno ‘bout the pics, buuut Branch will give in to us eventually.” JD stood back up, cursing softly as his back protested. “I'mma go make sure things are tidy ‘round the bunker, and come back in a bit with a lil something to eat. You good to handle him on your own?”

“Yeah, we good John.” Clay mumbled, already settling down himself and nosing Branch's hairline. JD tucked the blanket around them properly, leaving a faint whisper of, “My boys.” as he makes his way to the lift.

Soon the other two will come back and steal Branch away, so Clay's more than entitled to have him all to himself while he can.

Chapter Text

It was expected that Floyd would come out with physical and mental scars after what happened in with mount Rageous and the pair of siblings that captured him. 

If anything, they're lucky it'd been this that came along with his newfound disability, rather than anything else.

Branch had introduced him to the possibility of using regression, he himself having managed to turn his own traumatic regressive episodes into a much more gentle, and pleasant experience.

 “ It- it helps.” It's nice to see the shyness had remained a piece of him even in adulthood. He fidgets with the hem of his vest, but doesn't look away, “And, well, I can be there for you, too.”

The world felt bigger, and he felt smaller than ever. Everything was the same of course, but it also felt like it was put through a lense, fuzier and different. He didn't even notice it immediately, because he was already used to having trouble focusing after what happened, stuck in a bottle with nothing to for two months.

“Floyd?” Branch's voice was soft, his hand warm on top of his and eyes all too knowing. He blinked, and held his forehead a little, feeling disoriented. He doesn't immediately respond, instead choosing to lean into his warmth. It's a little overwhelming, if he was being honest, these feelings. He felt a little too vulnerable, yet the same as he always did. Maybe it's different from how branch feels, or maybe it's the same and he's just thinking it's too much because he never really experienced this in any way. 

Their other brothers go quiet, and suddenly another weight is at his right, who he recognizes as John when a gloved hand gently brings his hand down so he can properly look at his face, “what's wrong Floyd?” Branch is gently coaxed away, but it's wrong , and he immediately tightens his hold on Branch, reaching out with an alarmed sound, much to his own surprise. Branch can't go away , and he knows this might just trigger Branch and they'll have to deal with two little ones but he doesn't want Branch to go. He's a little scared, because it feels like he's been dumped in water and the only one who knows what this is like is him. 

“I can stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, Branch won't go, Floyd. He’ll be here too.”

And he sighs, and stumbles over his words before he can say a quiet, “thank you.” it's strange to see the softness usually directed at Branch be directed at him, too. John's grin is different from the wide, too excited one, and Bruce's tender gaze is that of a parent, Clay, keeping his distance, looks like he swallowed a lime from the way his race scrunches up in familiar fawning. Suddenly, he's thrown back to when they looked at him like that when he was the youngest, back when they were much younger, way before Branch. He finds his chest warm, because he then understands he's safe , and that he's okay and allowed this . Branch squeezes his hand again, a whole new understanding between them, now being able to share this . 

And it's nice. 

“You're little huh?” John's hand is soft against his cheek, and the gentle pinch makes him huff in amusement, “Not too little I think, hm? Just old enough to still be older than Branch.” He winks, and he covers his mouth to hide his lopsided grin.

Clay says he can go set up something easy for them to do in the main room, to ease Floyd into and out of it. He speaks softly, “I'd like that.”

It's simple, really, and he enjoys the simplicity. It's like he's in this little box, and only has to worry about what's in front of him, which is some paper, and crayons. It made him happy that his skill wasn't dumbed down too much with this, so it still looks cohesive and well made. Time somehow blurs lost in his own world, because he doesn't notice when Branch stops entertaining his little quips about what he's drawing, that'd he'd even stopped, and not even when someone else joins them at the little table. 

It's when he finishes another drawing that he startled slightly at a hand that swipes away one of the ones he already drew. It's Bruce, who looks relatively impressed, a pleased smile on his face when he realizes it's him. “Heyy you know where I think these drawings would look great on?” Floyd shakes his head, and John is quick to say, “The scrapwall of course!” A new addition, with Branch making some drawings himself and hung up proudly. His drawings will go on it too, and it makes his chest swell. 

He looks to where Branch had been sitting, and finds him on Clay's lap, struggling to finish a puzzle even with their brother gently telling him which pieces look like they fit together. His attention is quickly taken away, and he hums inquisitively, catching his eye. Branch points to the pieces, a frustrated frown on his face, and Floyd knows right then and there branch had also, ultimately, regressed despite his best effort to allow Floyd all their brother's full attention and care, but it made Floyd relieved because he at least wasn't alone in this experience. “help?” Branch nods, and together, they finish it, with him pointing out bits that fit with the one branch has between his fingers and helping him push them together. 

“Thanks.”

“Hm?” Clay leans forward, not quite catching the words so Floyd repeats himself, the pleasant fog clearing up a little as the last piece is pushed in, “Thanks.” Branch reaches out to him and he plays with his hands absently, making them clap. “Can we do something else?” He looks up, and he's a little confused as to why Clay looks misty eyed, his lips drawn together tightly, and it triggers him, slightly, since his own eyes feel a bit of a burn. 

He's the sensitive one for a reason .  

“I'm okay Floyd.” The reassurance is automatic, Clay reaching over to hold him tightly against him too, breathing deeply, “I'm just glad you're happy now. Are you happy?”

He quickly nodded, sated, “Yeah.” 

“What do you wanna do?” Biting his lip, he thought about it- he was bored, but not insanely so. He wants to include his other brothers too. He perks up then, and turns to Clay,  “can we play my guitar?”

“Well, I don't know if I can Floyd, I don't think Branch wants me to let go of him.” Well, that was a very good reason in his opinion, so he smiled brightly, patting branch’s shoulder slightly and searched for his other brothers instead. They exchanged a glance, and it was John who stood and went for the guitar, “sure thing! C'mere bud.” John leans against a wall, sitting on a spare pillow on the floor and allowing him to clamber on.

And it's bittersweet, because it was just like back then. He feels so small and safe when John brings the guitar out and lays it in front of him, securing him close. His hands are warm on top of his, rough from his travels but gentle as he guides Floyd's fingers like he did when he was just a baby and had taken interest in the guitar. 

“ Look at that! You're playing!” Floyd would kick his feet slightly, giggling when his little fingers moved a cord and the vibration carried out along with a note, entirely unaware that he'd be the last of the brothers to be able to bond with this specific John, who had yet to harden his heart and let his ambitions take over by the time branch was born.

Tears burned, but he didn't drop his grin, the melody playing slowly and gently, and John's voice soft in his ear wrapping him in a blanket of familiar comfort, “ Blackbird singing in the dead of night…”

Chapter Text

The thing about trolls is that any possession of theirs has to be personalized no matter the object- it had to scream theirs and only theirs, be it for the value it had as something deeply personal or just for the ownership, at least something had to be done, and a Branch was no different for personal possessions. 

Poppy proposed a little date for them in her pod, and brought him a new set of gifts and materials to just sit down and relax together with crafting, and do something fun for both of them, for him, and easy enough so he wouldn't stress and overthink. 

She sat across from him currently, a soft light purple bottle on her hand and humming to herself as she carefully painted little blue flowers onto the near translucent plastic, her strokes sure and gentle. She pulled the brush away, and turned the bottle towards him for approval. He looked at it for a moment, before nodding much to her delight, and going back to the pacifier in his hand as she went to pinch some glitter over the wet paint. Bright blue, like his old one had been, but adding a few little chipped gem beads in the colors that represent his brothers along the edge. Little tiny things, because he doesn't want it to be too flashy, and too chunky looking, but just nice enough to look neat and insignificant enough that wouldn't bring too much attention. 

The one he has in his mouth currently is the first one he'd gotten from his brothers, a matte deep blue that he will never alter due to its significance. Idly, he gently suckled the bulb, the light haze pleasant under his tinted skin and warm to his bones. He's drifting, teetering, but not falling into littlespace, and it's perfectly fine by him. He drops the tweezers, and presses his thumb over the little gems, making sure they're well stuck in place before turning it for Poppy to see. She perks, and praises him, “that's so cute! And so you.” She giggled sweetly, carefully leaning over their mess to press a gentle kiss over the pacifier, warming his cheeks significantly.

With a newly decorated set for him set aside to finish drying, they clean up, and get to work on setting up dinner, or well, he does. She protests when he hums and motions to himself and the kitchen, but he only responds by removing the pacifier from his mouth and pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, quieting her and getting his way. “At least let me help you then.” 

It was pretty funny, him working around her kitchenette, handling knives and fire with ease all while a pacifier sits in his mouth. It's validating to know she knows that he's capable of handling himself well when he's only teetering. She knows his cues, so she only steps in when he drifts too far from the shore of adulthood.

She sets up the table with their favorite flowers in a vase in the middle of the table, a little candle smelling of cinnamon burning, and to his surprise, a bottle of fermented Plum in her hand, “What do you think branchifer? An easy dinner or a buzz for it?”

Pulling the pacifier from his mouth and stuffing it into his pocket, he nods to the cupboard, and she doesn't show any disappointment, only kissing him properly on the lips and brushing past him to set it aside. “alright! Here, let me help you plate up.”

Instead of the alcohol, it's sparkling apple cider in their cups, and he appreciates her efforts to help him out of the haze. She fills the silence with catching him up over her recent meetings with the troll leaders, new hybrid eggs popping up between mixed couples, and, not very subtly hinting at her latest project, which is making a new, authentic Royal crown. 

They both know what she means, and he flushes a deep blue, the haze ebbing back. She tells him to sit still, and cleans up after them. When she comes back, she pulls her seat from across to sit next to him, and takes his hands. She croons, and kisses his knuckles, his cheek, his nose, his lips, showers him with affection that she knows all to well softens him up like melting butter, and sends him teetering closer. “I love you, Branch. Every part of you.” She plucks the pacifier from his pocket, placing it in his palms and cupping his. “I'm glad you've trusted me enough to let me see all of you, and I'm happy that I get to take care of you after all you've done to take care of me.” he could get lost in her glittery eyes, her gentle smile and her white freckled cheeks. He doesn't need to say much of anything at all to try to convey all he feels for her, his smile and their foreheads pressed together is enough. They kiss, innocently and short, and she takes him to her bed to cuddle.

The newly painted bottle's bulb now filled his mouth and his cheek resting against the soft curve of her shoulder, and her warmth lulled him into the inevitable pull of regression as he suckled and sipped, the liquid warm in his stomach. Her arms were wrapped around him, and he returned the gesture as much as he could by pressing his body closer, as if trying to melt them together by sheer will, his hands occupied. She whispers sweet words to his brow, her proclamations of endless love and support for him and him only and by god, if he wasn't about to drift he would love to another her as much as she smothers him.

Later, when he comes back to shore, because right now she whispers for him to finish his bottle and sleep because he deserved it, and he's only little, so he can only do as he's told and fade to the sound of her voice and her heart. 

Chapter Text

“Let’s just get this done and we can go our separate ways..” Well, Branch should have honestly expected this. Of course they would want to run away from him again. It’s not like he was that important them, not like floyd was, because at least they grew up with floyd, while he was just a baby they lived with for a few tender years. Of course he was a fool for hoping they would at least try to reconnect and be a family again. They were doing so well before they decided to start practicing. They were being civil, and actually smiling at each other despite the tension and resentment between them and it was enough to leave him hoping. 

“You didn’t think we’d all live together when this was all over, did you? Singing songs and roasting marshmallows?”

A fool he was. He was crashing, he knew. Anger, hurt, sadness swallow him whole and make him dizzy as the telltale haze of regression starts to make his eyes and cheeks burn.

He feels his knees weaken from the onslaught of emotion and Poppy catches him, her eyes all knowing as she fans his face, knowing the last thing he wants to do is to give in to his urges and lay it out on them because how dare they do this to him? He scrubs his face, and a scoff reaches his ear. 

“Don’t be a baby, Branch.” don't be a baby he says. Don’t be a baby because it makes you look like a brat. Don’t be a baby, because you already knew it was a long time coming. It won't matter what you do, because in the end we don't love each other, and we don't love you. 

The tears fell, then, and he crashed fast and hard. Never had he felt this tiny before, or maybe he has, and he just never imagined he'd be reliving the exact moment from all those years ago in this position and state of mind, stuck in the middle of a fight, helpless and lost. He tries to stiffle his cries, but his throat forces them out, punching their way past his pursed lips. He doesn't need to see to know his color is fading all over again, the familiar hopelessness overtaking his feelings altogether. Poppy is in his ears, rubbing his back and whispering reassurance but the voices of his brothers overpower her, and it scares him because loud voices means fighting. 

“ Enough. Tiny, pull over.” he flinches, and his chest constricts but Poppy holds onto him as Rhonda breaks suddenly, nearly toppling them over. He scratches at his chest and tugs his vest closer. He can't think, he doesn't know what to think, other than being left all over again. ‘Don't be a baby ’ but he is one, no matter how hard he tries to suppress him, there's an abandoned baby inside him that claws its way out with wails that rattle his brain, forcing him to pour every ounce he's suppressed. 

“What's happening to him?”

“Why is he gray ?”

“Why's he crying? I just said what we were all thinking.”

Branch sobs rather silently despite how heavy he heaves, gasping for air as he curls into himself, and Poppy snarls, an uncharacteristic sound from her of all people, but it's enough to shut them up, and remind them brutally just who is tending to Branch when her hair flares out in warning and the crown on her head shifts. She quiets them, and turns to Branch, shushing him and gently prying the hand clawing at his chest away as she whispers to him, “it's okay, it's okay, I'm here, no one's leaving.” she talks to him the way she would a child, and it clicks for the brothers, that maybe they went too far if Branch is panicking this badly over then leaving again, and if he's gone from rejecting their affection to being desperate for it. 

“Branch…” Poppy's glare quiets them again, and carefully she gathers Branch in her arms and picks him up easily. For as strong as he was, he was also so very light. His arms came around her shoulders, his legs around her waist and he tucked his head in between as best he could, trying to hide away from them. He clings to her like a little cuddle spider, little she might disappear from his life if he dare let go. 

Oh. 

Bruce steps closer, quietly and slowly as he whispers, “Branch? I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. Bruce is sorry.” Just like he always apologized, whenever he misdirected his frustrations at the baby back then, when he was never at fault to begin with. Branch's downcast ears perk only slightly at the familiar words that he's heard thousands of times over. 

It's always the same song, they think bitterly, always the same dance, and always the same loop, all the same. 

“I won't go away this time, okay?”

Branch audibly sobs this time, like those words brutally twisted in something deep inside and it scratches his throat and makes him cough, and they all lurch towards him. John ushered Poppy towards the couch and sat her, so she could settle Branch on her lap properly. His cheeks are a murky soot color from the desaturated flush, and wet from the tears that seem to never end. His face is twisted and the stress wrinkles are all the more prominent, and make the guilt multiply by tenfold. He mumbles something through a heaved sob, and his once bright blue eyes are now almost completely dulled. Never had they imagined they’d be the reason their baby brother would go gray, a second time too of all things because it was hard to ignore how deep his color had gotten being the youngest, while even john dory’s hair and skin remained shades brighter despite it darkening slightly from age. 

“We’re sorry Branch, okay?” Clay doesn’t dare to touch first, but hearing how genuine his apology is, Branch reaches out subtly, his fingers twitching and it’s all he needs before he’s passed around, he ends up in Clay’s arms and is gently swayed, and Clay feels the way their baby brother practically melts against him. For how long had Branch yearned to be held like that? To be the baby they once had doted on all over again? To be reassure? 

They probably hadn’t made it any easier on Branch to hold himself together, because the whole trip they’ve treated him like he was still so small, still needing to be cared for and doted on. He probably does need it, if John’s dismissal after everything proved anything. 

They don’t have much time to waste, and John still doesn't know what to do with himself or with Branch, so he picks himself up and tells Tiny to keep going, poppy following behind while their two brothers sooth Branch to sleep, for a quick nap to collect himself before the final showdown. It was the least they could do and what he deserved, at least in the time they had.

After all is said and done, and Floyd is rescued, they talk in the bunker Branch built for himself, for them.

Talk, and talk, and fight, and cry, and hug it out, and talk again. The same song, but with much more mature trolls in the place of the teens they used to be, and with the addition of the youngest who was more than capable of laying it in on them while also playing his role as the little one.

But it was easier to heal, and easier to descelate fights into conversations that leave their hearts aching but a weight off their shoulders. 

Much easier to sometimes relight those past fires and go through the same motion of comforting the youngest who was sometimes unfortunately caught in between, because unlike before, they were adults with years to think and reconcile, and could do more than what they could do then, and could fix those mistakes. 

-

“Oh, Baby, did we scare you?”

It was easier to pick up on cues of Branch teetering on the edge of regression, and they’ve gotten better on handling him with the utmost care he deserved,”Come here sweetheart.”  John motions the little one over, and scoops him up in his arms with a low grunt, but cuddles him close. Bruce smiles sweetly and looks at Branch with the deep affection only a father could have as he coaxes them back into the newly built nursery, specifically made only for Branch.

“I’m sorry, John.” John smiles as he slips the last button of the onesie through the little slit, fixing the sleeves and the collar, “I’m sorry too, Bruce.”  the same song of bonding over their littlest member, but without the cutting edge of teenage resentment. “See? All comfy, Hm?” Branch will look at them with those same wide eyes that haven’t changed a bit despite the years, and he will reach for them to hold him and promise him they’ll do better, meaning it this time. 

“It’s not too hot, is it?”

“Nope, here baby Branch.” The more suitably sized crib for an adult troll body was built from fallen branches and bark from the troll tree, their roots and beginning. Floyd had suggested it, and ended up being teased about how poetic of him it is to suggest it but the plan went through anyway. With the bottle empty and set to the side, they tuck Branch into bed, and quietly talk while watching him sleep. “I really didn’t mean it, Johnny.”, Bruce whispers, John places a hand on Bruce's back, and leans into him, “I know little Bro. I didn’t mean it either. You know I love you, don't you?” Bruce huffs, and smiles, “I know now big brother.” Branch snuffles, and silence washes over them. 

The same song, but with different beats and new verses. 

Chapter Text

Hello my darlings! 

Ah this notice is WELL overdue but thanks to a lovely prick I actually remembered I had this work on my public profile. Oops! 

What I tend to do when I don't feel the need to outright orphan a fic, I put it under anonymous! I think I  MAY come back, but it's highly unlikely.

Nonetheless, I hope you have all been taken care of yourselves! I appreciate everyone who has been gracious and respectful!

See you around!