Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was concluded that pop village was the best location for Floyd’s recovery. It was closest, there was a nearby doctor and Floyd could crash at Branch’s until he recovered - as so enthusiastically suggested by Poppy and Viva.
But there was an awkward tension between the brothers after they had properly reunited. They hadn’t seen each other for over 20 years, they were all strangers. They didn’t know anything about each other, only foggy memories they could barely grasp - at least in Branch’s case. And even if they were happy, Branch could only remember the pain of their absence afterwards. It smothered his memories and added a sense of bitterness to them. He didn’t want to feel bitter. They were his brothers, but he couldn’t help feel a sense of wariness and almost danger about them. He couldn’t predict their behaviour, he didn’t know what would set them off, what words he might blurt out that could cause them to leave again.

The fear paralysed him.

Despite all his brothers agreeing to stay in his bunker and make sure Floyd recovered well (and maybe have a chance of reconnection), he only had negative feelings towards it. But before he could linger on those feelings, the bus slowed to a stop as they had finally arrived at pop village.

Everyone was exhausted, barely able to keep their eyes open, including poppy, someone renowned for being full of energy. Floyd groggily rubbed his eyes, clearly waking from a deep sleep as he struggled to orientate himself. Bruce and Clay had been wide awake, chatting quietly amongst themselves as tiny diamond was asleep beside them. John Dory hadn’t slept at all due to driving Ronda, and Viva was in a similar state to Poppy. Overall, no one was awake enough to know what was truly going on, and Branch and Poppy were the only ones who knew their way around the village. It was dark, and no one wanted to disturb any of the other pop trolls and cause a ruckus. So, it ended up falling to Branch to escort everyone to his bunker for the night - they could all sort themselves out in the morning. His bunker would cause less chance of waking the other pop trolls.

However, he felt increasingly anxious and embarrassed to show them his bunker. It was pitch black, so even harder to spot it, and they were all tired from the earlier events, Floyd leaning on Branch’s shoulder.

“Uh, Bitty B? Hate to break it to you, but we’re walking out of pop village with no home in sight. You sure we’re going the right way?” John Dory questioned, mildly sceptical. “It’s a bunker, you won’t be able to see it above ground.” Branch stated. He ignored his brother’s stares, feeling them burn into the back of his head. No one said anything further, however. Not mentioning how remote it was from the village, how out of sight it was, or anything regarding the bunker he talked about making for them when he was a kid. He was glad they were too tired to ask further questions. Breathing a short sigh of relief, his right hand fiddling with the side of his shorts anxiously. For something he was usually so proud of - from his hard work into making it, to the storage quality on the inside - he felt weirdly embarrassed.
His base was massive, with each square inch being used to its fullest and expanded when needed. But…it also showed his brothers how isolated he was, how even though all his brothers made their own lives without him, he hid himself underground. Avoiding everyone in his village, his base emphasised this past behaviour and need to linger in the past, waiting for his brothers who would never return.

Except…they did. And Branch had no idea what to do about it.

He reached the floor mat indicating where the base was. Opening the hatch, he guided them down into a small cubby space under the ground. “Watch out for the bear traps, I forgot to remove those a while ago.” Branch internally cringed, there was no need for them, but his paranoia wouldn’t let him get rid of them. He probably looked like a psycho right about now. His brothers gave wary looks, stepping carefully around them as they approached the back wall.

“Uhh, I was expecting something a bit bigger by how poppy talked our ears off about it.” Floyd chuckled nervously.
Branch pulled the lever to the right of him, triggering the elevators mechanisms. “Just you wait!” Poppy gleefully added before the ground suddenly moved beneath them. Everyone, especially his Brothers, stared in awe as the elevator moved downwards. No one could keep their eyes off the intricacies and organisational feats of his base, especially the size. “I’ll see if it’s up to code in the morning, especially the fire exits, but this looks amazing. Most of it seems completely within the safety codes.” Clay stated in amazement. Branch felt a sense of pride swell in his chest, looking at the rest of his brothers as their faces looked on in awe. “Branch, this is totally fantastamazing! I’m definitely exploring this place in the morning, this really was the perfect spot for your brothers to stay!” Exclaimed Viva. He softly smiled as the elevator reached the ground floor, and Poppy looked at him brightly.

“Alright, all the guest rooms are on this floor, there’s enough for everyone. Kitchen is to the right, bathroom is to the left, if anyone needs me I’ll be in this room.” He said, signalling to the door behind him, a small B carved into the doorknob. Branch was honestly too tired to say anything more, and it showed. Everyone quickly headed to their respective rooms, uttering ‘goodnight’ and ‘don’t let the bed bugs bite’ - they were all exhausted too, and mostly appreciated the straightforwardness Branch displayed in this moment.

By the time everyone had left, Branch and Poppy headed into the room, too tired to even close the door as they quickly put on their pyjamas (Branch always had some spares for whenever Poppy stayed over) and swiftly fell into bed, falling asleep almost immediately. It had been such an emotionally intense and action packed few days that Branch could’ve collapsed at any moment had his anxiety not kept him going. He was just glad to finally be in his own bed, in his own bunker, with his girlfriend sleeping peacefully beside him. He was anxious for tomorrow, especially regarding his brothers. But despite that, he also knew Poppy would be by his side no matter what during this unsure time, and that was enough for his anxious-fuelled brain to let his exhausted body have some well deserved rest.

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Branch nuzzled his face further against Poppy’s chest, his arms wrapped around her securely as he fell into a deeper sleep. Poppy returned the affection as she rested her head on his, interlocking their legs together as they snuggled further in their sleep. It was a sweet site, showing a soft side of Branch that no one, besides Poppy, had seen before. He looked to be in absolute bliss, a change from his usual frowns and looks of judgment. His colours always seemed to be slightly more vibrant whenever Poppy was around, her warmth and care embraced him with acceptance and love that he lacked during his childhood - and it made him fall in love with her all over again. They would always be there for each other, and it showed through their sweet embrace.

Bruce looked on as he saw the couple snuggling together, a gentle smile embracing his face as he saw them through the wide open door. Branch must’ve forgotten to close it last night, but Bruce was almost glad he did - he had never seen this side of his brother before. He never had the chance to after he left, and the guilt ate away at him day by day. Something else was eating at him as well, however. Something new. It had to do with Branch’s appearance - he couldn’t tell what it was, but something was off. He thought it as soon as he first saw him as an adult. He couldn’t clock what it was though, and it was irritating. Maybe he just hadn’t seen him for so long, he imagined Branch different maybe? But…something just didn’t feel right. It was in the back of his mind. He was sure. Shaking his annoying thoughts away, he headed to the kitchen to distract himself, only to find John Dory already there - coffee in hand.

“Hey Spr-Bruce, how’s it hanging?” JD greeted awkwardly, sipping his pure black coffee.

“Uh…fine, yeah…yeah I’m alright. You?” He paused, looking at a snack John Dory was holding. “Are those…?” He pointed to the snack.

“Hm? Oh! Yeah it’s starbubbles, I thought these got discontinued but Branch has an entire snack drawer of these things and more. These were my favourites when I was growing up, I missed the taste so much.” He shoved a bunch of them in his mouth at once, his face contorting into bliss at the taste. “I thought Branch hated these things.” JD said through a mouthful.

Bruce chuckled at his brother’s antics, but paused as he soaked in what his older brother had said. “I forgot Branch hated them…how long ago were they discontinued?” Both brothers paused, neither one of them having to say the answer as they both knew.

20 years…that number popped into both their heads. Branch couldn’t have changed his tastebuds that quickly, not before they had all left of course. They both came to the dawning realisation as the snacks continued collecting dust in whatever drawer they were in. Silence engulfed both brothers, neither speaking as they were both deep in thought and contemplation.

A while passed before Bruce spoke up. “Have you…noticed anything different about Branch? From when he was a kid?” John’s eyes looked up in recognition, wincing slightly “You noticed too…”

“His colours…I can’t describe it. I initially thought Branch had died his hair black but…” Bruce mumbled.

“His fur.” John stated, worry clouding his usually boisterous expression. “It’s not as bright as it used to be…” He pulled out a picture of Baby Branch, showing it to Bruce as he slid it across the counter. The bright, happy looking troll looked completely opposite to the brother they had now - it didn’t sit right with them.

“His ears…” Bruce pointed out “They droop now, Floyd’s does too. You don’t think…” Both brothers looked at each other, worry filling their expressions.

“We need to keep an eye on him, on both of them.” John stated

“We really messed up, we never should’ve left” Bruce agreed.

“But you did”

Both brothers whipped their heads around at the sound of their youngest brother. Branch was lent against the archway of the kitchen, it was unclear how long he’d been listening, and surprising neither brother heard him. He held a flat expression on his face - not quite anger or sadness.

Branch headed towards the kettle, turning it on as he prepared himself some coffee. Both brothers looked at him, a mixture of shame and shock enveloping their faces. This tense atmosphere remained until the sound of the kettle came to a stop. Branch poured himself some coffee, adding a few spoonfuls of sugar. He lent against the counter and eyed both his brothers.

“You want to know about my colours?”

John nodded his head, fumbling over his words a little. “I-it’s just…well we noticed before but- the time- I just…”
“John” Bruce interjected softly. JD immediately went quiet, uncharacteristically fiddling with his fingers to avoid the current shame and awkwardness of this conversation. He knew they had to have it at some point, he just didn’t realise how uncomfortable it would be.

Branch sighs, taking his silence as an opportunity to start talking. He thumped his left foot up and down in annoyance and anxiety as he began to speak. “To make this conversation as short as possible, a lot of pop trolls typically find it easy to be happy, right? But some of them go through events that could be considered traumatic or detrimental to their growth, and so find it a lot harder. That happiness starts becoming an unreachable goal, people shut you out, and you start to lose your colour.”

John opened his mouth to speak, but Branch cut him off. “You had gone, my support system had gone. Grandma was the only person I had left. Then she got eaten…and guess where that left me.” He left out the part where he felt like both events were his fault and he thought he was cursed for a good 10 years. He didn’t want to get that deep in the conversation with either of them - he was still exhausted from the last few days and didn’t want to carry this conversation any further.

As if his prayers had been answered, he heard Clay yelling, running towards them, eyes wide.

“Floyd’s in trouble.”

Chapter Text

Loud, worried noises surrounded Floyd as he fell in and out of consciousness. He wanted to reach them, hold them and tell them everything was alright - but he didn’t know who these voices were and why they sounded so sorrowful. Floyd couldn’t even move as he was motionless on the mattress beneath him. Was it even a mattress? He was so disorientated, not even being able to open his eyes as he struggled to remember or confirm what environment he was in. It felt dark, a little colder than usual…but he also felt a shift within his body, a change. Was he being moved somewhere? He did not know, only the motion of his legs swaying somewhat gave it away. He had no idea what was happening, but felt an eerie sense of calm to the entire situation. As if…whoever was moving him felt like the safest person in the world. It felt delicate, from what he could decipher, and full of warmth and care. He attempted to speak, to soothe the sorrowful voices and panicked sounds around him, but it only came out in mumbles that were barely audible. He hoped they knew the message he was trying to convey.
Soon enough, the swaying came to a stop and he felt himself being placed carefully on something, it was comfy. But the presence and security of whoever had been holding him had gone. He wanted to reach out, tried desperately to, but his body barely obeyed his orders. This new environment felt much colder, he didn’t like it, he wanted to go back.

He hoped he would go back soon.

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Branch clutched his hair in his hands, breathing in and out slowly in an attempt to stay calm, but it came out in heaves, instead. He could barely catch his breath as he tried this routine again and again, moving one of his arms to clutch his shirt. He could feel every drop of sweat on his forehead, every piece of fabric in his shirt, and the way his tongue rested in his mouth - it felt like sandpaper. Tears falling down his cheeks, he was glad he was in the comfort of his room with no one else watching. If his brothers saw him, what would they think? They didn’t need to see him in this pathetic state and he would take steps to ensure they wouldn’t.
Branch knew he shouldn’t have left…but it was all so overwhelming and he freaked out on everyone. He acted like a psycho, he was practically asking to be abandoned all over again.

‘asking to be abandoned all over again.’

Branch cringed at the thought, sending his mind back to the conversation with his brothers moments before what happened with Floyd. How could he have said that? Sure, they might’ve deserved a bit of it…but to say it to their faces? They’ve finally taken an interest in Branch and decided not to leave, only for him to give them a reason to. What was wrong with him? As soon as they asked about him being grey he should’ve denied denied denied. They saw a glimpse of his vulnerability and it made him sick. The last time they saw him vulnerable they left - he wouldn’t ever let that happen again. To be vulnerable is to be weak - it’s inviting people in to take advantage of your naivety for trusting them in the first place. He wouldn’t let anybody in, not again. Not those who had broken his trust before, at least.

His mind whirled from moment to moment, overanalysing every piece of dialogue he spoke, every action he took, and every response he gave. Insecurity took over as panic surged inside him even more. What happened with Floyd…it was terrifying. It just didn’t make sense to Branch. Why couldn’t he have predicted this? Anticipated this? He was supposed to predict what was going to happen, what the outcome of a situation would be - he always did. But this was uncertain, and uncertainty scared him - it reminded him of how he first felt after his brothers left. He had no idea what would happen to them, and now that very same thought was racing through his mind over 20 years later.

The way Floyd looked when they first raced to his room. It was as if he had converted back into that shell after those trollnappers drained most of his life force. It was eerie, and caused all his brothers around him into a spiral of panic - no one knew what to do. Even now, Branch had to act like the more responsible one - even if he was the youngest. Carrying Floyd out the base, even just the memory of it made him shiver. His brother felt like a crystal, a very breakable crystal - he was scared if he held too tight, Floyd would break into a million pieces. Branch squeezed his eyes shut, balling his fist and lightly hitting the side of his head with it. He needed these thoughts to go, thinking about them anymore would make him nauseous with anxiety and uncertainty. He couldn’t handle this anymore.

His inner thoughts became more and more overwhelming. Branch needed to get away, needed to go somewhere and take a breather. That way he wouldn’t have to see them abandon him all over again. It was perfect! He just had to stay in the woods for a while, and when he came back it would be like they were never there. They were bound to leave soon and Floyd would probably be the catalyst for it. Poppy and Viva were reuniting with King Peppy since early this morning - they hadn’t heard about Floyd yet - and his brothers were still with the doctor, so he had plenty of time to pack some stuff and go. He wasn’t abandoning anyone, just having a trip to the woods, that’s all. He was not becoming his brothers or anything of the sort, he was just saving himself some future pain - also he needed to restock some items, so it was the perfect opportunity. Everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be perfect. It had to be.

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It had been hours since the events that took place with Floyd, and his brothers were becoming increasingly worried. Not just for him, but for Branch also. It became abundantly clear how much he had grown up in the past 20 years, without them of course. They had missed so much of Branch’s life that they now underestimated everything about him - they still saw as ‘Bitty B’. It struck them all specifically, however, in how Branch reacted upon seeing Floyd. Everyone began panicking upon seeing the state Floyd was in, attempting to shake him, shout at him, anything to wake him from his state, arguing with one another for the solution. But Branch just walked past them without saying a word, calmly picking up Floyd and carrying him to the nearest doctor. The calmness in his actions is what scared them the most - whether this was a profoundly impressive masking technique, or being genuinely calm towards the situation, they didn’t know. What they did know, however, was his ability to act fast in a tense and dangerous environment. That’s what really scared them. How many dangerous situations had he been in that caused him to become adapted like this? How many times had he almost died because his brothers weren’t there? The thoughts raced through their minds as they all sat in contemplative silence, watching over Floyd.

Branch was a stranger, and they knew it. It brought a deep shame upon all of them.

They needed to sort things out with him, and fast.

Chapter Text

A buzzing noise surrounded him as he felt a bright light shine from above. His body felt stiff, rigid, as if someone had coated him in cement. He strained to open his eyes, letting out a groan as he did so. Why was everything so tiring? So overwhelming? He wished whatever presence held him before was near, but he couldn’t sense them. Instead, it was replaced by panicked noises, raised voices, and tense silences as he slowly felt himself waking up. The noises began to get clearer and louder as time went on, slowly understanding their words.

“What do you mean he’s gone? He can’t have gone, where would he go? There’s no reason for him to leave.”

“You heard the anger in his voice when he was talking to us this morning. That’s not the voice of someone who’s happy his brothers are here.”

“Then what are we supposed to do about it? I’m not the problem solver…”

Floyd faded in and out of consciousness, vague words drifting through his mind for a while, before waking with a force. His eyes shot open as he sat up quickly, panicked breath and pounding chest. Steadying himself after a few moments, he turned to the source of the loud noises, his memory slowly coming back to him as he replayed their earlier conversation.

His brothers were divided on opposite spots of the room. JD on one side, with Bruce and Clay on the other, both in aggressive stances, ears angled backwards as a sign of distress and anger. The room itself was as overwhelming as the tension within it, with bright, blinding lights shining above him, and walls stained a bright yellow - it was not pleasant to look at to say the least. If anything, it gave him more of a headache as he felt his head pounding with pain. Floyd rubbed his eyes tiredly, disoriented and confused.

“Where’s Branch?” Was all Floyd could think of, blurting it out without a second thought.

His brothers froze, having seemingly increased the tension within the room. Their faces initially filled with relief at seeing Floyd awake, but that soon dissipated as his question lingered in all of their minds.

“We…don’t know…” Clay said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

“You aren’t even going to ask what happened to you? Chillax Lil’ Bro, everything is under control. There’s no need to worry.” John interrupted, putting on his boisterous facade as he finished with his signature grin. Floyd, despite the state he was in, recognised his brother’s antics and narrowed his eyes.

“No. I’m not going to ask. Because somethings up, and I can see it on all your guilty ridden faces.” He turned to Clay. “What do you mean you don’t know his whereabouts?” Floyd was uncharacteristically angry, although an undertone of worry was present as he spoke.

Clay fiddled nervously with his hands, not expecting this reaction. “…Well we went back to the base to check up on Branch after he left…but he was gone. We asked Poppy but she kept avoiding our questions for some reason…” Clay trailed off, his voice getting quieter as Floyd’s stare hardened.

A moment of tense silence passed before someone finallyspoke.

“Something happened this morning that may have triggered it…kinda…” Bruce began.

Oh they were about to get a real telling off.

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Branch walked through the woods quickly and quietly, ticking off all the items he collected on the way to his usual spot. It made him less anxious, and he wouldn’t feel guilty about doing nothing whilst out here. He breathed a tired sigh, thankful for the quiet noises of the forest and absence of other trolls. He couldn’t be near anyone at the moment, it was too much. The calming shades of green and the soft grass underneath his feat soothed him - he could already feel himself relaxing, distressing from the past few days.

He definitely underestimated the impact his brother’s stay would have on him. The underlying anger he felt towards them, even Floyd. It wasn’t fair to them, he knew. Yes, they abandoned him as a child…but…they wanted to know him now, didn’t they? Or was that all a pipe dream and they would leave again? Branch shook his head as if to shake the thoughts away. He had to remember, his brothers never stayed at his base. It never happened. Because when he would return, they wouldn’t be there. This wasn’t because they abandoned him, however, this is just because they were never there in the first place. So what’s there to be upset about? Everything was fine. It was perfect, in fact. So perfect he decided to take a mini camping trip for the chance of collecting more supplies.

What was there to worry about? Poppy already knew where he was, he left his little coded symbol outside her pod to let her know. It was a good system for when the other needed space from everyone, it let them know where they were depending on the symbol in case anything happened. It was good. It was organised. And it was perfect. It was just what Branch needed.

When he came back, he intended to spend some more time with Poppy, things had been so hectic lately they hadn’t had much of a chance. Excluding the first night back in Pop Village, however. Branch almost wished he was snuggling with Poppy now, but he knew he needed a few days of isolation. Setting up camp in a nearby tree, his thoughts drifted. They kept going back to his brothers, even as night fell, they wouldn’t leave his head. Why wouldn’t they leave? He balled his fist and lightly tapped his head with it - he wished these thoughts would just go. They brought more pain than he was letting on, and it was suffocating. Tears pricked his eyes as he attempted to wipe the constant flow. He brought his knees to his chest, gently rocking back and forth in an attempt to soothe himself. Quiet sobs and sniffles broke the silence of the forest, breaking the illusion of serenity he had convinced himself of. This trip was supposed to be perfect, he was supposed to not be thinking about his brothers.

He wished his thoughts would just leave him alone. He curled up tighter in his sleeping bag.

Why couldn’t his thoughts just leave him alone?

Chapter Text

Floyd rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers in frustration. He was sat in the living room of Branch’s base, having been cleared by the doctor, given a few meds and a temporary wheelchair. It was heavily suggested he avoid walking at all costs, luckily Branch’s base was surprisingly accommodating to that. Nevertheless, Floyd’s frustration towards his brothers was clear in this moment, and only growing. His brothers stood awkwardly in his presence.

“Floyd…you really shouldn’t have been let go by the doctor, you know how hesitant they were about it. Just let them take care of you whilst we sort this out…” Clay hesitantly spoke.

Floyd sighed tiredly. “Look, I know I’m barely in any condition to be here. But with how you two-“ he locked eyes with Bruce and JD “mucked everything up before I…got hospitalised…it’s smarter to do this together.”

John looked offended at Floyd’s comment. “Mucked everything up? All we were talking about is how worried we were for Branch - you’ve seen his fur, we all have.” He mumbled something incoherently at the end, grumpily looking at the ground.

“It’s not the colour a pop troll should have, you must understand our growing worries - I’m sure you’ve worried about it too.” Bruce reasoned.

Floyd sighed, Bruce was right. Floyd couldn’t say that during the few moments he had seen Branch during their adventure, he hadn’t thought about his changed colours. Not to mention his droopy ears - they were the same as his own. He would be an idiot if he thought it was a coincidence. His frustration was growing, he had no idea where Branch was, and even if he did, would he even want to speak to any of them? They messed up as brothers, and almost none of them had changed. Not mentally, anyway. He fiddled with the arm rest of his wheelchair as his mind whirled for solutions. There must be clues somewhere in this place - it was massive after all. Maybe something would indicate where he had gone, even if it was tiny.

Sighing, he turned to his brothers. “Look, we can’t change what we did. But, we can make up for it. There must be some clues around here, anything that could indicate where he went. This place is massive, there must be something.”

John nodded his head, puffing up his chest and placing his hands on his hips like a superhero. “Old JD is on the case! Bitty B will be back in no time!”

“Why don’t we just grab an item of Branch’s and give it to Ronda? Isn’t that how you guys found me?” Clay mentioned.

John sheepishly rubbed his neck, his sudden moment of energy and heroism depleted in a matter of seconds.

“Uh…well here’s the funny thing…you’re really gonna laugh at this-“ John began.

They all looked at him impatiently as he hesitantly continued.

“She’s getting loads of checkups at some vet place near vacation island.” He winced at his own words but continued. “The adventure really took a lot out of her, she’s not used to hustling once, let alone twice. She also got a few scrapes that need to be looked at.” John fiddled with his hands as his brothers sighed.

“Fine. It just means we’ll have to look around here harder. It’ll be easier if we search separately - luckily the rest of Branch’s floors are filled with supplies, so all the clues should be on this level. I’ll start with Branch’s room, you guys disperse elsewhere.” Floyd stated as he went into leader mode, an unusual change within the dynamic between his brothers - but a lot had changed in the years they’d been apart.

Everyone quickly fled in different directions as he headed towards Branch’s room. He hoped they’d find his location soon.

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It had been a fair amount of hours since the brother’s investigation, and they still hadn’t found any clues. JD, Bruce, and Clay had seemingly searched everywhere, and yet nothing had been found. Their frustration was growing as they began jabbing one another with small remarks here or there, raising the already high tensions. It was irritating how they hadn’t even found one clue in all this time - was Branch this good at covering his tracks? Or did he just leave without a plan? From what they were learning about him, he always had a plan. So why couldn’t they find it? They were growing irritated, and unable to tell the passing of time. The lack of sunlight or night time made them feel insane, how could Branch live like this? How had he not gone insane?

What had annoyed them the most, however, what had hurt their pride and sense of self-worth, was how they knew nothing of their brother. Not even what food he preferred, what his favourite colour was - none of it. How would they find him if they didn’t even know that? They felt hopeless, and John Dory wasn’t making the mood any lighter.

“You’ve got to quickly sort through this stuff, Clay. This isn’t a slow competition, you chuck stuff out and rifle through it. Use your head Mr. Fire exits guy.”

Clay balled his fists in annoyance, pointing his finger at his brother. “I’m not trying to destroy his stuff, unlike you. You’ve already broken half his things, try being gentle for once. Or is that too much for you?” He shot back.

Bruce tried to step between them before the fight got physical - they were nearing one another and it wouldn’t end well. He was silently ignored, however, almost dismissed.

John took a step towards Clay. “What did you say to me? I haven’t broken anything. Someone is being a little dramatic today.”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “Watch it. I might catch bad brother syndrome if you take a step closer.”

JD took serious offence to that, a pained expression flickering across his face before settling into a cold stare. “You’re just as bad as me.” John responded, smirking a little at the end. “You aren’t better than I am.”

Clay almost apologised after seeing how pained his brother had looked for a moment, before realising what he had said. Something about that comment irked him, made him angry and irritated. He was not like JD, he promised himself he wouldn’t be. Their exhaustion from searching all day did not help with containing these feelings. Clay took a step closer and shoved him away.

“What’s your problem?” John hit the dirt wall, his face flickering with something Clay couldn’t interpret as he glared. Clay opened his mouth to say something else before John interrupted.

“Wait!” He stood up, quickly placing his ear against the wall, mumbling incoherently to himself. He knocked his fist against it a few times.

Clay and Bruce looked at him, equally puzzled. “What are you doing?”

John pressed his ear further against it, knocking it a few times.

“It’s hollow.”

“What do you mean it’s hollow?” Clay asked, still a slight tone of annoyance in his voice.

“This wall is hollow.” JD repeated, his ear still pressed against it.

“That doesn’t make any sense, you sure the fall didn’t mess with your head?” Clay retorted.

John turned to face his brothers, his expression incredibly serious. They had never seen him this tense before.

“There’s another room behind this wall.”

Chapter Text

Floyd’s anticipation grew as both Clay, John and Bruce created an entrance to the mysterious room (Or in short, wrecking Branch’s house even more by hammering chunks out of his wall). At this point they didn’t care about wrecking Branch’s home if it meant they could find him - in fact, they hadn’t even considered how he’d react to what they were doing. They were only focused on the end goal, and seemed to have forgotten his feelings along the way. Floyd hoped it would hold even an inkling of a clue as to where he was, because as dawn approached, he worried Branch wouldn’t even come back.

How ironic.

After a few moments of hammering and yanking bits of Branch’s walls away, a door finally revealed itself. John raced to open it, the most eager out of the rest of his brothers as he confidently walked in. He was incredibly impatient, wanting to get this over and done with so they could drag Branch back and solve everything. Unfortunately, however, he would have to learn to be a lot more patient if he ever hoped to rebuild a relationship with Branch, as well as the rest of his brothers. And he might have to learn that the hard way.

Everyone hesitantly followed behind, almost afraid of what they might see - they had no idea what would cause a troll like Branch to have secret rooms in his own home, they didn’t even know him let alone what he might have to hide. Judging from how Poppy talked about him, it could be some camping equipment? Geography books? But why would he need to hide that, especially hiding it behind a sealed room of all things. John was bursting with confidence, whilst his brothers were slowly becoming more and more hesitant as their thoughts spiralled.

John noticed his brother’s hesitance as they followed slowly behind him, and it made him laugh. It reminded him of when his brothers used to be scared of the dark and he would have to ‘protect them’ from the scary monsters lurking in the shadows. It was bittersweet and nostalgic all at the same time.

“Don’t worry broskies, Branch’s location will be found mere moments from now, and we can drag him back home.” He stated, puffing his chest out and placing his hands on his hips.

Floyd chuckled a little at his overconfidence, finding it mildly reassuring. He flicked a switch to his right to turn the lights on in the room.

It was pitch black, and as the lights slowly flickered on, they began to see more and more of the room they were in. What first struck them, however, was the smell. It was old, dusty, it smelt damp, the equivalent to a basement that had been left to rot for years. Were they all going crazy? Where was the smell coming from? Was this room that old? It smelt decades older than the rest of Branch’s base.

That was the second clue something wasn’t right, the first having been the sealed room itself.

The lights flickered for a few moments, revealing bits and pieces of the room they could only interpret, before finally working. It took a moment for them to register what the room was, but quickly came to their senses.

Their faces dropped immediately.

No one uttered a word, they were speechless.

————————————————————-

It had been a few days since Branch had left the bunker, and whilst this allowed him to take a mental break…it hadn’t stopped his thoughts from spiralling like the first night.

The silence of nature consoled him more than the usual silence of his base, however. He felt free, more connected to his environment, and he didn’t feel like he was constantly being perceived by prying brothers. No matter how good their intentions, Branch couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched by a predator waiting to strike. It felt suffocating, and honestly the predators on the outskirts of pop village seemed like cupcakes and sprinkles compared to his brothers. Everyday he’d wake up wondering if they were still there, if they had abandoned him all over again - living new lives that were better than their old ones, all because he wasn’t in them. Branch visibly shook as he continued walking, he needed to think about something else, anything else. As long as it wasn’t about his brothers.

Despite it only having been a few days, Branch had already collected all the supplies he needed. He also figured his brothers had left already-
No, that’s not quite right, is it? He figured his base was as quiet as he left it, and with no one occupying the space inside, his mind corrected. Everything would be neat and orderly. Neat and orderly. Neat and orderly.

He repeated this mantra to himself as he began walking towards pop village. It had turned nightfall as almost 3 or 4 days had passed with Branch gone. Branch, however, had no idea how long he’d been gone. Usually, he was always aware of the time, obsessed with it…but his mental state had significantly depleted as he became seemingly numb to the passing of time. It was scary, and didn’t help the growing pit in his stomach as he walked on.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly as his heels dragged beside him. Despite his tired state, his overthinking offering him little sleep for the days spent in the woods, he was still on high alert. Branch’s ears constantly shifted with any slight sound that changed in his environment. He was glad he had learnt this skill at a young age. This made his rate of survival in dangerous situations higher due to his alertness. He was proud of it, it made him reliable to others and to himself. He couldn’t rely on others to be like that, so he had to learn these skills on his own. If anything happened, at least he could depend on himself to deal with it.

Branch saw the base in sight and walked towards the entrance, opening it and climbing down. His anxiety spiked as he began to shake a little, walking hesitantly. He quickly pulled the lever and descended down the base to the bottom floor. His hand quickly found the other as he began to furiously pick and chew at his nails, his hands felt sweaty and wet. He wiped them on his shorts before going back to nervously fiddling with them.

As he descended, however, his ears began twitching - he could hear people talking, shuffling, moving. He thumped his right foot with impatience and anxiety.

There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in his base. It was supposed to be quiet and empty.

“Neat and orderly. Neat and orderly. Neat and orderly.” He repeated under his breath, trying to soothe his panicked thoughts.

He heard the sounds coming closer to him the further the elevator descended.

This wasn’t right. He was supposed to be alone.

He was always supposed to be alone.

Chapter Text

It was completely empty in the area surrounding the elevator. They hadn’t heard him come in? What was all that noise then? Regardless, he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him, rubbing his sweaty palms on his shorts again.

Taking one step out of the elevator, he felt a loud crunch from beneath his foot. Looking down he saw a scatter of all his things on the floor…what were they all doing here strewn about the hallway?

His mind began to wonder before he heard his brother’s voices around the corner, his curiosity piquing as he silently made his way over.
————————————————————

“What are we going to do? What do we even say when he comes back?” Clay begins, nervously scratching his arms in an attempt to soothe his anxious thoughts. It wasn’t working.

All the brothers were in a state of shock from what they had witnessed. Millions of thoughts raced through their heads, trying to decipher what could’ve been going through Branch’s head at the time. How old he was. How long it had been since they’d…left him. That room…it held a dark past that even his brothers weren’t able to decipher. The atmosphere itself clung to you like tar, pulling you in with such force and aggression. Floyd wondered what state Branch was in at the time in order to be this desperate, this obsessive. He shook his head, trying to rid these thoughts.

“What if he never comes back?” John Dory whispers, pulling down the already heavy atmosphere between them all. A newfound pessimism seeming increasingly visible within his line of thinking.

“We’ve looked everywhere, guys. We’ve torn apart his belongings, taken down his walls and searched in every nook and cranny. This guy doesn’t want to be found…we don’t even know who he is anymore…” The rest of the brothers looked over at John Dory in surprise, he had never been this openly negative about a situation before. It was startling, and put an unnatural feeling in the air, as if the roles had been reversed somehow. But with who?

A moment of silence lasted seemingly decades as no one had the strength to respond. They had no clues, not even a letter or note about where he could’ve gone. It was hopeless, they felt what little energy they had left slowly drain from within them. The silence soon began clinging to them.

“…You did…what?”

All eyes seemingly widened in alarm at the same time, darting their heads to where the source of the sound was coming from. A tear stained, exhausted and dirtied looking Branch stared back at them, anger consuming his face whilst his tears continued to flow. He looked like a mess. His hair had sticks, moss, dirt and more stuck in it, along with scrapes across his face and hands, decorated with a surprising amount of mud and a bit of dried blood. His exhaustion was emphasised through these newfound features, as well as the way his eyes struggled to focus, his eyelids becoming heavier by the second as his eye bags became more prominent.

But what was most significant about his appearance? His colours had become more subdued…

His appearance was alarming and puzzling to his brothers. They’d never seen him in such a state before…but they also hadn’t stuck around long enough to observe this behaviour earlier in his life.
What they had failed to realise during their absence, is that this was a regular occurrence when emotions became too overwhelming for him, or if he felt his environment wasn’t safe enough to express these emotions.

Branch had an unusual edge to him, he appeared incredibly angry…but there was something deeper than that within him. It was difficult to pinpoint let alone explain. There was an air of vulnerability, it didn’t sit right with them.

JD was the first to speak up.
“Where the hell have you been? We’ve looked everywhere for you and that’s all you can say? We were worried sick! We didn’t even know if you were coming back.” JD’s tone grew colder towards the end, his outrage becoming more prominent as the heavy atmosphere weighed on them all.

“How ironic.” Was all Branch could muster, tears still heavily flowing down his cheeks as he was visibly shaking. Whether this was due to rage or sadness, it was not known.

“Now you know what it was like for me. Every. Single. Day.” His brothers all looked away in shame, unable to face his anger despite the validity it held.

He looked over to the ripped apart walls, showing the old and decrepit entrance to…that room. Surprise and betrayal flickered across his face for a moment, before anger quickly consumed it. He began shaking even more.

“You see that room over there? The one you tore apart, as well as the rest of my belongings?” More tears flowed down his cheeks, causing them to become puffy and red.

The rest of his brothers all sheepishly looked over at it, still avoiding his gaze. Anger consumed Branch more, clenching his fists in frustration at their sudden submissiveness. Shoving past them, he walked to enter the room, hesitating, however, at taking the first step inside. This room was a remembrance of his painful past, a reminder of who he had once been and what was part of him now. It left a nasty taste in Branch’s mouth that he would rather not delve into it again. But his brothers gave him no choice.

He looked into the room, fear consuming his face for a few moments.

Writing covered the walls from head to toe, messy and chaotic as they dissolved into angry scribbles and dents, one pen having been stabbed into the wall and still remained. Looking in the room caused Branch’s breath to hitch, bile rose to his throat but he pushed it down. He wanted to continue looking at the room, he needed to burn this into his memory. Why? He was not so sure. Scrawled up papers littered the walls, along with seemingly hundreds of pictures of his brothers, all connected to each other by red string, different info and scraps of letters or magazines surrounding them. It was extensive and thorough, every possible sighting of his siblings and where they could possibly be. The memories burned his throat, causing his head to painfully ache as he struggled to cope. He looked to the right side of the room. Shrine like structures had been crafted, one dedicated to each of his brothers. A picture centred it, followed by each brothers favourite incense and some of their old belongings. The sight itself was painful and sorrowing. He couldn’t remember how old he was when he built this, but he had been very young. Only a few months after his brothers left - it had hit him far harder than he was ever willing to admit, and it showed through the contents of this room.
A ragged, dirty blanket lay in the corner, as well as a pillow, browned with age and littered with holes. On the walls next to it? Tally charts of how long it’d been. He had soon given up keeping track. Underneath all those scribbles that bled into the rest of the room stated “it is all my fault” over and over again.

It broke Branches heart to relive this, slowly remembering his mentality of that time. He remembered thinking that if he got better at singing, choreography, song writing, anything…they would eventually come back. Because he would’ve proved he was good enough. He didn’t deserve anything unless he earned it, which means he also needed to earn their presence let alone love.

He swallowed the mass of bile sneaking up his throat and turned around to face his brothers, his back now facing that decrepit room. He stared daggers at JD.

“You said you didn’t know who I was? Take a look in there. That is who I am. That is who I was. And it is still apart of me today.” He paused for a moment, analysing their expressions before continuing.

“I’ve been alone since I was 4. You’re all so unbelievably stupid, you know that? You didn’t give a shit about anything I did up until now.”

“I’ll apologise for everything but today. Today I give a shit.” JD begins, the rest of his brothers giving somewhat supporting looks to his statement.

“Yeah? You’re too fucking late.” Branch responds angrily, turning to leave. Bruce moves in front of him, however, reaching for his hand.

“Branch, I know we messed up. We can make this work, I promise.” Bruce rushed, giving him a look of slight panic, but all Branch can do is give him an uncomfortable expression in return. He wasn’t used to his brothers owning up for their mistakes, even if it was half assed, but it also felt like it was too late. The damage was done. It would take a while to emotionally recover from this.

Branch sighs before turning around to face his brothers once more. They all gave him hopeful gazes in return.

“Dump all the shit you broke into this hallway, I’ll sort it out in the morning.” Is all he could muster in response, turning around and slowly walking to his room.

Floyd looked on in frustration and shame. They were losing their youngest brother…

What had they done…?

Chapter Text

Clay fiddled with his hands out of nervous habit as he stood outside Viva’s new pod, after arriving in pop village, Viva had settled in nicely, organising and orchestrating plans to reintroduce the putt-putt trolls. It was a big project, taking up a lot of her time so they hadn’t chatted in a while, especially with how things were going on his end. He ignored the anxious shivers up his spine and knocked on the pod. To his surprise, Poppy answered, with Viva nowhere in sight.

“Hi Clay! So great to see you, it’s been forever. Viva isn’t here right now; she’s gone off to get some candy to make necklaces out of! Speaking of I haven’t seen the rest of your brothers, including Branch after he got back from his camping thing. How’s it going? I’m babbling, you go first before I talk your head off anymore” she took a deep breath after speaking so quickly and excitedly, however her face soon switched to concern as Clay continued fiddling with his hands, his gaze locked onto the floor.

“I uh…it’s probably better you answered than Viva, I was too scared to tell you this in all honesty…” Clay sighed anxiously as shame flooded his face.
“Can I step in for a moment?” he continued, finally making eye contact with her.
“Oh, uh sure…what’s up?” She says hesitantly, caught off guard by his sullen demeanour.
_______________________________________ “You did WHAT??” John Dory shouts in disbelief, looking from Clay to Poppy back and forth repeatedly.
Poppy’s face was uncharacteristically off putting. Her face held emotions of irritation, thinly veiled with a smile. It didn’t sit right with any of them as the brothers looked between each other across the coffee table in Branch’s bunker. JD’s mouth still hung open in shock and annoyance, the rest of the brother’s only looked on in shame and embarrassment.

Poppy let out a fake laugh, the atmosphere feeling foreboding amongst the brothers, as if a calamity or curse was about to be cast upon them.
“Funnily enough that was my exact same reaction when Clay informed me of what you all managed to achieve within the span of a week.”
JD’s demeanour became suddenly more subdued, a blow to his pride had been delt, knocking him back a peg or two. Despite what had occurred a few nights ago, he still struggled to properly own up to the damage he’d done, whether intentional or not.

“I couldn’t not tell her JD, how are we supposed to fix this mess on our own? We could just cause even more damage.” Clay argues, followed by an eyeroll and a scoff from JD. A flicker of guilt struck his face for a moment or two however, before quickly dissipating. He began unconsciously biting his nails as he struggled to suggest what to do next.

Floyd interjects “He’s right you know; there’s a reason I got so mad at you all when I first woke up after the incident. We need to go apologise”
The room turned to contemplative silence for a moment before Poppy broke it with a sigh.

“You are all so much more alike than you think, especially Branch.” She chuckles a little, looking on at Branch’s brothers. They all held faces of mild confusion and surprise, clearly not expecting this.

She claps her hands together and stands from her seated position, as if she had already concluded what her next course of action would be.
“Right.” She began, already moving on, “I’m going to check on Branch.” She turns to move before Bruce speaks up, having been fairly quiet since attempting to reach out to Branch a few days prior.

“Wait, please. What are we supposed to do? I know we messed up, really bad, I just want to know how to make it up to him, please…”

Poppy turns around, a mix of emotions passing across her face. Her behaviour has been rather uncharacteristic since Clay approached her earlier up to now, she didn’t enjoy being serious or confrontational, especially with Branch’s immediate family. She just wished she’d gone to see Branch sooner, before he took his trip to the forest. She’d been extra busy lately with everything new happening, she just hadn’t had time, the guilt weighed on her a little.

She looked up at the brothers once more, her gaze having drifted elsewhere. She could see they were trying, as angry as they were at each other and themselves, she knew they felt guilty, but she also felt a sense of irritation towards them for what had happened. Poppy approached Bruce carefully, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand its difficult…being forced to be so close to one another so quickly after barely reuniting, the arguments, the tension, and I know you guys like to take direct action to an issue that arises, Branch is quite similar in that regard.” She chuckles as if remembering something fondly.

“But you have to give him space.” She took a step back and looked at all of them individually.

“Branch is someone who will come to you when he is ready. And once he is…you have to listen.”

A pained expression crosses John’s face for a moment or two, his arms crossed as his brows are slightly furrowed, stepped off to the side.

Poppy continued being her usual blunt self. “That means you do not walk into his room when and if you please, you do not knock on his door to check on him and you do not try and satisfy your own guilt by barging in and apologising…Are we clear?” She gives them a stern look.

They all nod their heads, somewhat slightly relieved after having this conversation. They all knew that Poppy was the only person who knew Branch best, so were grateful to have her help, as annoyed as she felt towards them.
And Bruce knew from seeing how vulnerable Branch allowed himself to be in front of Poppy, from witnessing them the day after they arrived at Pop Village, that Branch was in good hands. Arguably in placement of his brothers.

Bruce witnessed Poppy walk towards Branch’s room and prayed everything would turn out okay in the end. It had to…

Chapter Text

The night Branch discovered what his brothers had done, he couldn’t sleep.

Stood in his room amongst the organised mess, he was motionless, as if the very act of moving his body even an inch would set off all the emotional turmoil from inside of him. His surroundings were a blur as his eyes remained unfocused and his body shaken, desperate for rest as his brain refused him of such luxury, adrenaline pumping through him as if he had just survived an attack from a violent creature on the outskirts of pop village. The reality was much less intense, yet much more debilitating. His inner most vulnerabilities had been forcibly shown, as he felt the crushing weight of being so brutally exposed. He felt as if eyes were everywhere, watching, observing, judging - he had built himself up as this dependable, strong person he so clearly proved to his brothers…and yet…it felt as if they had clawed his skull open to expose all the secrets he had hidden underneath. They did not care how much he had grown, for they had sensed his weakness from the very beginning.

Weakness…it was such an absurd word. And it fit him perfectly. If he hadn’t been weak, his grandmother wouldn’t have perished, if he hadn’t been weak, his brothers wouldn’t have left. His mind spiralled at these thoughts. If…if…if…
So many aspects of his story wouldn’t be the way they were…if he wasn’t weak. If he wasn’t pathetic. If he wasn’t dependent.

If it had been his choice, that room would have died with him. He should’ve destroyed it long, long ago…and yet a nagging part of his mind wanted it to stay, to be a reminder of what had been done. He could not undo what had occurred in that room…as much as he wished it could. The desperation, the tears, the anger and obsessiveness…he felt the memories clawing at him, gripping him by the throat as he struggled to breathe, lost in a dissociative silence as his body remained still despite the exhaustion it exhibited.

He was internally frozen.

He craved cleanliness, to be washed of his impurities and shame. Branch felt a growing emptiness in him blooming, like a flower blossoming once the perfect conditions of its environment had been met. Had his been met? What were they? What was growing inside of him? He shuddered, both from the strain put on his body and his spiralling mentality. He felt himself finally move however, the need to wash away his shame greater than the emotions swelling inside him.

Shame…it was such an intense yet disgusting feeling to exhibit. He wasn’t just externally filthy from his camping trip or such…he was internally dirty. The feeling that, no matter how many times you wash yourself or wear clean clothes or just be clean…he was still disgusting. Where did this ridiculous feeling come from? No amount of scrubbing could relinquish this suffocating feeling, he felt claustrophobic in his own skin…the desperate need to claw his way out no matter how painful.

Clean, clean, clean - his conscience screamed. A cry to remain pure and untainted. Anything to make him internally hygienic again. Not this filth that had corroded his very soul.

Moments blurred between one another as he struggled to remember how long he had been under the shower head for - the water had already become cold, and his skin had been scrubbed raw as he became engulfed in the scent of flowery bubbles.

When had he begun the cleansing? How much time had passed?

He shivered once more, thoughts gradually collecting as his dissociative state was gradually fading. Turning off the shower head, he stumbled back into his bedroom and fumbled through the draws for some clean clothes. Accidentally opening the draw he leaves for Poppy, everything in his mind stopped for a moment. Her bubbly scent engulfed him as he became painfully aware of how much he missed her presence. when had they last been together? It must’ve been the night they got back to pop village…which seemed like eons ago.

Eons ago…and yet his brothers still stayed. Why? Can’t they just go? Branch acknowledged his brothers would repeat their past actions and leave again…so couldn’t they do it now so he can get over it quicker? The wait was excruciating. He gave them the perfect opening when he went camping…he almost wished they had never come back. Tears pricked his eyes as he knew their leave was near. He had cemented this with his outrage from earlier, so why? Why are they not gone yet?

Branch brought one of Poppy’s shirts towards him and hugged it tightly, inhaling her scent as his desire to see her again grew. Her presence always calmed him during overwhelming situations, he wished she was with him now…he sighed.

Why couldn’t everything just go back to normal? Why was everything so different now?

Why were they still here?

Chapter Text

For the first time in what seemed like decades, Branch’s mind was finally silent as he slept. His body did not stir, he was not dreaming, and he did not wake for what seemed like days. It was as if his entire being had shut down, rebooting as a means of self reparation. It was an odd occurrence, the only other time this had happened in Branch’s life was…when he had first sealed the entrance to that…room. It was almost as if his mind had finally given in, given in to the mental and physical toll of its owner, accepting the damage that had been done, and finally succumbing to it.

He did not know how long he had been asleep, for he did not care. The rare moments he did wake were at least hours apart from each other, a nice change to his usual light sleep, or more accurately, no sleep. For the first time in his life, he was not obsessively aware of the passing of time - he felt as if he was in limbo, where time did not exist. The advantage of his room being underground meant no sunlight, allowing him to become completely unaware of the outside world, fuelling his intentions of shutting it out.

Branch barely remembered why he wanted to do this, but his subconscious became very aware of the fact that he was much safer inside his room than outside.

His body internally felt the danger and consequences of the outside world, similar to how an animal senses the feeling of another predator stalking by, its ears raising in alarm or its fur raising in agitation. Branch had been broken down to his very instincts, his mind being temporarily out of service whilst his body fought in its place.

His ears tensed in his sleep as a result, angling backwards in distress for a while, before a soft pair of hands gently combed through his hair. Despite him not knowing who these belonged to, the familiarity calmed him down and enveloped him in a feeling of security and comfort.

It was an odd yet fast switch up, for his mind did not know why his body succumbed to such a foreign entity. It was not dangerous…and yet the very act of the entity being unknown should’ve been enough to elicit a reaction from his body.

All it did was lean further into the touch.

Seemingly hours past and he was finally ready to identify the owner of these hands. He rubbed his eyes, the crusty fragments of sleep obscuring his vision as he struggled to see. It took him a moment or two to adjust his eyes, the soft glowing lamp in the room adding another layer of difficulty due to the darkness he had become accustomed to. Finally, he creeped his eyes open and began to take in his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was pink…and he felt his heart rate immediately speed up. Accompanied by the sweetest voice he had been secretly yearning for days.

“Morning sleepyhead”

Branch’s eyes widen in surprise at Poppy’s presence, in utter disbelief as he almost thought he was hallucinating. His mind was finally comprehending his surroundings, and most importantly…who was in front of him, bearing the sweetest and kindest smile he had missed much more than he had initially thought.

The only words he could utter was her name.

“Poppy…?”

The very act of saying it brought a calmness to him he hadn’t experienced in a while. The blooming emptiness inside him had been paused, the petals slowly wilting as his mind had become frozen.

Poppy cupped his cheeks in her hands, smiling softly down at him as she placed a kiss to his nose.

“I’m here”

Was all she said.

“I’m here.”

Chapter Text

Poppy felt the heat of Branch’s cheeks in her hands as she cupped them, his fur becoming an ever so slightly more saturated blue, accompanied by a slight tinge of purple gradually forming on his cheeks as a form of blush. Surprise and awe enveloped him as he stared deeply into Poppy’s eyes before leaning in closer and closer to her, his hands patting her arms down as if to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming.

She was real.

His hands eventually settled on her waist as he pulled her in hastily for a hug, tightly gripping her as if she would fizzle away if he wasn’t careful. His body visibly shook with each breath he took, his painful isolation being finally broken by someone he truly trusted with his heart and soul. A feeling that caused his body to relax with every breath he took in her presence, like an abandoned stray finally finding a safe haven or home.

She was here.

Branch’s mind became engulfed with relief and calmness, if only for a moment or so. A nagging thought about him becoming a burden for her began erupting in the corner of his mind, yet he quickly and silently squashed the thought. Not right now. Not when he finally had someone he could trust in this unpredictable and tense environment.

Not again.

He let out a sigh derived from the pent up stress and tension of the last few days. The room was silent, the only sound that could be heard was their breathing, both contentedly listening to the other’s heartbeat - almost using it as a way to stabilise their own uncertainty during this time.

Silence engulfed them, and yet it was not oppressive, or constricting like it had been with his brothers - often characterised by uncertain glances, anxious scratching of the arms or heads hung in shame and insecurity.

Instead, it was calm, comforting even.

With them, some things didn’t need to be said aloud.

“I missed you” and “I love you” and “I’m sorry” had already been communicated through their actions.

——————————————-

It felt like they had been holding one another for hours, finally breaking away to look at each other in full view, both eyes taking the other in.

Poppy noticed Branch’s seemingly withered state from the moment she walked into his room. But it was more obvious up close, making her brows furrow in worry.

Despite his deceptively hygienic state (at least from afar), cuts littered his arms and face, an accessory to the large eye bags he adorned and even further emphasised by his exhausted demeanour. He slouched, his head jutted more forward than usual as his hair was slicked with grease upon closer inspection - he must’ve been asleep for a while (at least), he never usually slacked on taking care of his hair.

Poppy’s thoughts bubbled and spiralled more as she analysed him further and further, trying to assess how he’s doing without explicitly asking - prying at a time like this was not the way to go. But…his physical state brought her anxiety to the forefront - what had happened, had Clay left out details? Was this the effect of his brother’s misguided actions? Was there more she didn’t know?

Poppy’s thumb brushed slowly across the cut on his cheek in an attempt to distract herself from these thoughts, but he made no reaction, seemingly unaware it was even there. Perhaps the emotional turmoil occurring within him stifled that, Poppy did not know.
She tried quelling her thoughts, but they seemed to bloom and flourish as her mind spiralled further.

What if, what if, what if, repeated in her mind like an unhealthy mantra, consuming her almost completely as anxiety flushed through her, her mind focusing too intently on one thing as everything else began fizzling into the background.

She stared more intensely as her worried expression increased.

And yet…

He just leaned further and further into her touch, taking her in as she did to him.
The only thought passing through Branch’s head at that moment repeated quietly in his mind over and over again.

“I missed you…” he said softly,

That immediately brought Poppy out of her daze, her eyes focusing back on Branch as a small smile tugged at her lips.

“I missed you too”

He chuckled softly, before letting out a quiet sigh - not one of tiredness necessarily, but of knowing.

“How much have my brothers told you?” He said slowly, a surprising calmness being evident in his voice. His eyebrow raised as he asked the question, having already predicted his brother’s rants. - worried ramblings might’ve objectively been a better term, but Branch was too deep in denial to realise his brothers don’t hate him.

He didn’t mind though, not really anyway. He had gotten over their hatred a while ago - at least that’s what he told himself…maybe hatred was going too far, but dislike was certainly not strong enough after all Branch had done (according to him at least).

Regardless, If it resulted in seeing Poppy again, he didn’t care in the slightest, they could yell his business to anyone who would listen…as long as he could see her.

Meanwhile, Poppy paused for a moment or so, thinking over how to best answer this. But a few moments of eye contact with that face of his…and she quickly crumbed at any sort of white lie to respond with.

“Everything.” She breathed, holding his hand to comfort him.

“Everything…?” Branch repeated

Poppy gave a sympathetic look in return, nodding her head. Looking to say anything in an attempt to comfort him, but ending up resulting in a splurge of fast paced nonsense.

“Honestly, if they weren’t your family I would’ve clobbered them by now. To be honest I should still clobber them, family or not. I mean, I can if you really want me to, I won’t even hesitate I’ll just grab the biggest object near me and give them a good wack, and by wack I mean a real smack, like smacking the nonsense out of them and-“

“Poppy-“ Branch interrupts, but Poppy is already on a roll, not even registering his interruption.

“Cause I’ve seen it, I really have where some people have benefited from having the sense knocked into them, I mean my neighbours sisters cousins sons had to be smacked over the head and they were right as rain afterwards-“

“Poppy-“ Branch repeats

“that’s such a funny word ‘right as rain’ what does it even mean? Is rain right? If so is ‘good’ weather wrong? What makes it wrong? Since when did we decide on what weather was what when it’s both natural so how can one be wrong if both are naturally produced-“

“Poppy!” Branch says louder this time, almost at a yelling volume as her rambling flow was suddenly interrupted.

“It’s okay” Branch states, squeezing her hand.

“It’s okay?” She responds questioningly, breathing deeply as she seemingly did not breathe once throughout her nonsensical speech.

He chuckled softly, the tiredness beginning to creep back into his voice as he feels his body growing a little heavier.

He shrugs, leaning back against the headboard and looking over at her.

“It’s….” He begins, his voice becoming uncharacteristically vulnerable.

Poppy watches him intently, gradually calming down from her rant as her deep breaths began to subside.

“…just stay” he says softly, just barely above a whisper

“Just stay?” Poppy asks, leaning back against the headboard too.

Branch leans his head on her shoulder, a soft sigh of content escaping his lips at the close contact.

“Just stay…”

Chapter Text

The first thing that broke the silence that night was the screaming.

The crack in tone as it rose in volume, the pitch, the *desperation* - it had everyone awake in practically seconds. And his face…cheeks scratched raw, tears pouring down them, eyes…open…? Bloodshot and wide, focused on nothing in particular as his legs thrashed beneath him, arms flailing about in a panic as a pained cry escaped him - like an animal with its foot caught in a trap. Panic overwhelming and blazing as a cold sweat enveloped him.

Voices surrounded him, chaotic and loud…overbearing and familiar all at once. He felt himself panicking further, the voices becoming claustrophobic as he felt trapped within the overwhelming noise. He could not pinpoint the source of these sounds, his eyes open yet seeing nothing. His voice strained and broken yet not knowing how.

What was happening? Make it stop

Make it stop please

Please

He thought desperately, trapped in his own body like before - yet instead of it feeling like a cage, it felt like tar sinking him further beneath the surface. The more he thrashed, the more he sank. Its thick texture clinging to his shoulders, his neck, contorting him unnaturally as he tried further and further to get out. Tensed aches carried through his body, fuelling his feeling of entrapment as his panic rose further and further -

Heart.

His heart wild and beating, threatening to tear itself out of the confines of his flesh - get out, get out, get out - it screamed, as if Branch was the foreign entity.

Foreign entity? Eyes open and seeing nothing, where- what- who-

“Branch…”

A calm, yet firm voice interrupted the chaos…

Poppy cupped his cheeks, forcing him to face in her direction - all he could see was a pink blur through the haze of adrenaline and sleep. But pink - familiar? Yes, maybe safe? His body felt heavier beneath him, the tar merging with his body as he sunk like quicksand. It no longer tried to pull him under, it became him as his body rotted within. His soul…flower? Rose? No. Blooming?

Where had he felt blooming? When, why? Up, up, up it rose through his stomach - but empty.

He turned back towards the muffled blur of pink.

Her eyes wide and erratic, she searched him over in a panic.

“Hey, hey, hey” she lightly patted his cheeks

“Stay with me”

She morphed into a hazier blur of pink, melting before him as his vision grew worse.

“Stay with me” she repeated

The room grew darker, voices muffled.

“Stay with me” a sound murmured.

“Stay with me” a noise whispered.