#bludswing

[dulltoned]

Branch knew that his brothers would have to leave. He'd be stupid to think that they could stay forever. They had their own lives to live and homes that they made for themselves, they couldn't just leave that behind and Branch didn't want them to. That didn't mean he wanted them to leave. He knows that they never had any plans to stick around, they'd made that clear to him, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye.

It's worse when it looks like they plan to try to be a family together. Without him.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Branch tried. He tried really hard to keep his brothers at arm's length while they were trying to figure out how to stay in each other's lives but, no matter what he did, they still managed to worm their way past his defenses. He really liked having them around. It was still awkward and sometimes they got on his nerves but when Clay caught up with him on his morning patrols, or he woke up to find Bruce had made breakfast, he felt a soft happiness bloom in his chest that he was quickly growing addicted to. It was unfamiliar in the best way and he'd tried so hard to keep these attachments from growing because he knew that they couldn't last. Good things come to an end, and Branch had spent too long waiting for the worst just to stop now. He knew that this little bubble would pop and he wanted to keep his heart sheltered from the inevitable disappointment.

It's already been a week since they'd brought Floyd back to Pop Village and Branch knew this couldn't last much longer. They all had lives to live and goals to accomplish. He doesn’t know why they were fooling themselves into thinking their family could just knit itself back together. They'd already made it painfully clear to him that being a family again had never been their end goal anyway. That's what he gets for letting himself hope. He should have known better but Poppy's endless optimism seemed to be rubbing off on him. Hell, Bruce has an entire other family to get back to! There's no way that he had room in his life for a grumpy little brother. Halfway through the week, they stopped trying to include him in their conversations planning the future anyway and that had been the first sign. At least the first sign that couldn't be explained away by his overthinking.

"Hey," Branch glances up from his place nestled against the trunk of a tree to see Poppy's pretty face. "What's on your mind?" She asks, expression open and soft with a concerned little furrow between her brows. She lowers herself quietly down beside him and cuddles herself immediately against his side with a content sigh.

Branch chuckles and lets his head fall gently on top of hers. He already feels a bit lighter with her here and the worry feels just a bit farther away. "Just thinking," He lets his gaze wander out into the village in front of them, watching the daily hustle and bustle of the merry trolls fill the streets with a life that he used to resent. He remembers when he used to despise how bright and joyful Pop Village is, and even though it was barely a few years ago now it felt like a lifetime. His life has changed so much since he'd ventured to Bergen Town with Poppy that first time but some things have stayed the same. He's still a lot duller than the other trolls, and he doesn't think he'll ever be without the paranoia that lingers just beneath his skin, but he's happy in a way that he hasn't been since he was just a kid.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Poppy presses after a few beats of silence. He thinks that she's soaking in the sights of the village too, basking in the joy of her people. She's done an amazing job as Queen and he's sure she'll only continue to shape the future of all trollkind with her compassion.

Branch sighs, sagging further into her, "No." He doesn't. He isn't even sure where he'd start and he doesn't want to know what Poppy would say. This past week he's felt like he's gotten closer to his brothers than he ever has before while simultaneously being an outsider looking in. It's like he has a front-row seat to what his family could be and the closer he gets to the inevitable end the more it tears him apart. He'd forgotten how much he wanted this until he was waiting for it to be taken away from him again.

"Okay," Poppy agrees with no small amount of hesitation. Branch is glad that she isn't going to pry right now but he's smart enough to know that it won't last. Poppy isn't good at staying away from things she thinks she can fix. It's why she stuck with him for so long. He was grateful for it then but it only amplifies his dread now. It's strange how many things can be a double-edged sword. "Do you want to spend the rest of the day people-watching?" It's an offer to sit with him for as long as he needs. He smiles even though she can't see it.

"No," He carefully detaches himself from her and stands with a big stretch. He's been curled up against this tree for a few hours now he thinks. It's about time he gets up and faces the music. He turns back to Poppy and offers her a paw up, pulling her to her feet with ease when her hand slips confidently into his. "Maybe we could get lunch?" He suggests instead.

"I'd love that," An adoring smile spreads across Poppy's face and Branch's heart melts at the sight. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to her looking at him like that but he doesn't mind the way it makes his heart race and his cheeks warm. She pulls him along by their hands still clasped together and he follows after her without hesitation. He's learned time and time again that he'd follow her anywhere.

It's still strange to filter easily into the busy pathways. No one sends him weird looks or whispers conspiratorially behind his back. He just slots as easily into place as Poppy does, just another troll in Pop Village with somewhere to be. Poppy clearly has a place in mind so he doesn't mind letting her lead the way, watching the scenery change from the dense collection of pods to the stalls and storefronts of the marketplace. Poppy makes a beeline for a cute little stall off to the side. It has an off-white awning decorated with pink hearts and yellow stars and Branch can immediately understand why his girlfriend is drawn to it. It has a few round tables for outside seating with closed parasols matching the stall secured to each one. It's adorable. Poppy immediately bounces up to the stall and drags Branch along with her. He sends her an amused glance, "You come here often?" he teases fondly.

"Of course!" Poppy beams back at him, eyes shining. She gestures to the stall with her free hand, "I mean look at this place, it's so cute. And they have the best little sponge cakes, like, ever." She points to the small chalkboard menu propped up beside the stall and Branch skims it over. It's mostly overly sweet pastries and cakes but Branch sees a few muffins that sound pretty good near the bottom.

He shrugs as the stall worker greets them. They're a lilac glitter troll with periwinkle hair and a white apron that reads Honey's in swirling gold script across the chest. "Sounds good to me," he agrees easily, watching with a soft smile as Poppy squeals. The glitter troll doesn't react much beyond a happy smile of their own but Branch supposes that most Pop Trolls are probably used to Poppy's antics, and if she frequents this place they must hear this all the time.

"Okay, okay," Poppy reads over the menu in a millisecond before looking up to address the worker with a bright wave, "Hi Lavender. Could I get two of the mini jam sponge cakes and a pink lemonade please?" She orders kindly, watching as Lavender jots down the order before they both turn to Branch expectantly.

Branch glances over the menu one last time to make sure nothing else catches his eye before ordering. "I'll take the sour cherry muffin and an iced chai if you can." Lavender writes down his order with a swift assurance that it'd be no problem at all before turning around to start fixing up their drinks. Branch can see why Poppy likes this place so much. It's cozy and easy but filled with an obvious love and care that would draw her in immediately. It makes him like it that much more.

Poppy swings their hands between them in wide arcs while they wait. Branch sends her an annoyed scowl but she just grins back and keeps swinging. She knows that if he was really bothered he'd just pull away and she takes full advantage of that. He rolls his eyes but doesn't try to stop her. He'd never try to stop her, not when her excitement was this innocent and this pure. She's happy and it warms his heart and fills his stomach with butterflies and it's nice. He can allow them both something nice.

It's only a few minutes before Lavender is pushing their drinks across the stall counter and just a few more seconds before they're placing little plates with their food next to the cups. Branch finally pulls his hand back to trade a few bags of tea for the goods while Poppy grabs their drinks with a cheery thank you. Lavender thanks him greatly for the new blend to try, even raising the cloth bag to their nose to sniff the loose leaves, and he offers them a soft nod in kind while he gathers up the plates. It's such an easy interaction but Branch can get thrown off by the unending kindness sometimes.

"Where do you wanna sit?" Poppy asks, still bouncing on the balls of her feet as her excitement grows. He loves how her energy seeps out. Poppy is constantly moving. Always rocking back on her heels or bouncing in place or dancing through town with a hum caught on her breath. She's so bright. She's always managed to light up Branch's dull life and ever since she became a real part of it he's only gotten brighter with each day that passes.

Branch glances at the three empty tables before looking back at Poppy, unimpressed, "They're all the exact same." He monotones. While he adores her he can admit that sometimes she can still be too much for him. They're very different trolls but something about them just works. He's amazed that they can slot so nicely together but he wouldn't trade what he has with her for anything. She's always believed in him in a way that no one else has and he couldn't imagine what he'd do without her.

Poppy pouts, "Branch," She whines, gesturing to the empty tables with their drinks. "You have to pick. If you don't pick we're sitting on the ground." There's a sparkle in her eye that tells Branch she's just pushing his buttons but that doesn't mean she's not serious. She may be a pest but he knows well that she takes that role to heart.

Branch groans and moves towards the closest table before she can spot the smile trying to take over his face. He sets their plates down carefully, settling the two sponge cakes in front of one seat while placing the muffin in front of the other. Poppy easily plops their respective drinks down and dramatically pulls out Branch's chair before he can do it himself. He raises an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yep!" Poppy chirps, wiggling the chair at him expectantly. With another dramatic roll of his eyes he sits down and chuckles warmly when she briefly struggles to push the chair back in. "I got it, don't laugh." She huffs but she does scoot the chair in with a little extra force.

"I would never," Branch promises. He's lying out his teeth and they both know it but Poppy doesn't acknowledge it outside of a quick glare she shoots his way. He waits for her to get comfortable and pick up a fork before he even looks down at his own snack. The muffin is a nice brown with little dots of dark red scattered throughout the bread, the top glistening slightly with what Branch could only assume was a light glaze. It looks good enough so he delicately peels off a piece of the top and pops it into his mouth.

Oh, wow. It's actually really good. The glaze isn't too sweet and it balances out the tartness of the cherries really well. The bread itself is moist and dense. He feels a little bad for being so surprised. Poppy smirks at him from across the table, "I know, right?" She nods, already halfway through the first cake. It's a round little thing layered delicately with cake, jam, and what looks like a cream of some sort. There are even a few fresh berries nestled on the top. "Honey's is really good. Most trolls walk right by it but I love it here." Branch can understand why as he picks off another bite of his muffin and savors the flavor. When he takes a sip of the chai to wash it down he's equally impressed, a soft hum of satisfaction slipping out before he could even think about it. Poppy's eyes widen at the clear praise and she reaches out with both hands, "Oo, I haven't had their chai yet, lemme try." She makes a little grabby motion with her paws and Branch can't help but comply. Her face absolutely lights up when she takes a sip and his heart melts.

"Oh, hey," A voice cuts through the moment and Branch looks over to see his brothers a few yards away. Anxiety claws its way to the front of his mind at the sight of all of them together and he hates that his own insecurities are ruining such a sweet atmosphere. Suddenly the muffin doesn't taste quite so sweet. Floyd offers a soft wave when his brothers get a little closer and Branch returns it on autopilot. "Are we interrupting a date? We can come back later." Bruce looks between Branch and Poppy sympathetically. If anyone understood the importance of an uninterrupted date it was Bruce if his stories about his children were anything to go by.

"No, no, of course not! We're just getting lunch." Poppy assures before Branch can come up with some plausible excuse. He's glad to share a few more moments with them before they all leave but there's a pit suddenly growing in his stomach that easily overshadows that.

"Oo, what'd you get?" John Dory leans in, quickly invading Branch's space and nearly knocking him over in an unnecessary rush to get a closer look at his plate. John laughs at Branch's disgruntled complaints and leans back, ruffling Branch's hair in the same motion. Branch growls and pushes his brother away with a sharp glare but John Dory only smiles back and raises his hands in mock surrender. John seemed to get great pleasure in mapping out Branch's boundaries through trial and error but when Branch tells him to quit it the eldest insists that it's an older brother thing.

Poppy sends Branch a quick glance to gauge where he's at before looking back at his brothers with a welcoming smile, "What brings you guys out here?" She asks, munching curiously on the remnants of her first cake while she looks between each brother with searching eyes. Her curiosity was a thing to be reckoned with.

"Well," Clay starts, straightening up and looking proud, "We think we've finally gotten everything all figured out. When it comes to sticking around, ya know?" He explains with a satisfied grin. The details had been Clay's favorite part from the bits and pieces that Branch caught around the bunker. He tried not to mind that his brothers only talked about how they'd keep in touch when he wasn't around but, even if it wasn't something he was a part of, he would have been more than happy to help them figure everything out.

"Oh, that's great!" Poppy throws her hands up, her smile becoming impossibly brighter when faced with the success of the people she cares for. She didn't know his brothers well but Poppy assured Branch that the people who were important to him would always be important to her too. That meant the full nine yards when it came to the Queen of Pop. She's even squeezed in one-on-one time with each of his brothers during the measly week they've been in Pop Village.

"Yeah, it took some time but I think we've managed to work it out," Floyd nods, clearly pleased but also fondly exasperated by his brothers' antics. He looks over at Branch's drink curiously and sends Branch a curious look in silent question. Branch shrugs and picks up the cup, holding it out to Floyd. "We still want to have plenty of time to live our lives but after everything," Floyd pauses, managing to look both sheepish and haunted. He takes the cup with a small smile, "Well, after everything it'd be nice to see each other a little more. So every couple of months we figured we could meet up for a while." Floyd takes a small sip of the chai and his eyes widen in silent surprise. He takes one more drink before passing it back to Branch with a soft thank you.

"Yeah, we've got a whole rotation figured out. Vacay Island is plenty big enough to house everyone and then I can introduce you all to the kids." Bruce looked so impossibly happy at the idea and Branch couldn't help but share the sentiment. He was overjoyed for his brother when he first heard that he had a family of his own, all undercurrents of bitterness chased away by just how content Bruce seemed to be. He thinks, maybe, he might want to get to know his niece and nephews at some point if he'd be allowed.

"And the Putt Putt Trolls have more than enough extra space in the Course, we could take in a few more trolls any time." Clay crosses his arms, nodding once, somehow managing to look even more accomplished. It wasn't as enticing as Vacay Island but it would be nice to know more about how Clay has been living these past many years. Branch takes a slow drink of his tea and glances between his brothers curiously. He figured they'd been talking about their plans after Pop Village without him but he hadn't expected so much planning to go into how they would spend time together. Without him.

John Dory adjusts his jacket, puffing up the collar with his usual smug aura, "We can even spend a few nights in good ol' Rhonda here and there. Make a camping trip out of it." Poppy might as well have literal stars in her eyes with how she's beaming at his brothers. She's not even the biggest fan of camping but she is a huge fan of campfires and s'mores. Not to mention the fact that Poppy had grown fond of Rhonda on their latest adventure.

Branch is too busy focusing on how no one brought up Pop Village to be excited for them. "That's great," He smiles, trying his best to make it look genuine despite how his stomach was twisting into knots and his eyes were starting to burn. Of course they'd visit each other. Floyd would probably move in with the Putt Putt Trolls or bunk with John Dory and then they'd all get together every few months to catch up. He doesn't know why he's surprised, he figured he would have to say his goodbyes, but somehow it still hurts.

He'd really hoped that maybe after everything they changed their minds. That maybe they could try to give this family thing a shot again, even if it would be hard and complicated work. At the end of the day it looked like they were ready to spend time with each other but not with him. It's been a week of walking into a room only for it to suddenly go quiet and he thinks that maybe in the end it hadn't been his paranoia that made him think they were leaving him out.

"It's not perfect but we can make it work." Floyd's smile is too soft and too kind and it makes the pit in Branch's stomach claw it's way up his sternum. His fingers were starting to become cold and clumsy as his dread grew and his heart thumped a pathetically fast rhythm against his ribs. He had tried so hard not to get attached again but now all he could think about was the impending goodbye he wasn't ready to give. He wanted more time.

Poppy's looking at him now and he can see her smile starting to drop as she realizes that something's wrong. The excitement is visibly bleeding out of her and a calculating expression is swiftly taking its place. It's only there for a brief few moments before she turns a polite smile back to his brothers, "I can't believe I forgot, there's something I'd like to show Branch if you guys wouldn't mind?" She sounds so genuinely apologetic Branch would be more surprised if he wasn't so focused on how tight his chest was getting. He knows this feeling, he's well accustomed to the first signs of a panic attack, but no matter how familiar it's never any less terrifying.

"Oh, no, of course not!" Bruce assures quickly with a wave of his hand. "We can talk more later, obviously. You guys go have fun."

Poppy doesn't even wait for the merry agreement from the others before she's out of her seat. She grabs a few of the available to-go bags from the market stall and easily sweeps the remaining food into them with one quick motion. She practically pulls Branch out of his chair. "Can you grab the drinks, sweetie?" Oh, she's worried. She only ever calls him sweetie when she's worried.

"Yeah, of course," He agrees numbly before grabbing their cups from the table with shaking paws. It's not too noticeable he doesn't think. Maybe he can only tell because he can't help but stare at how the cups tremble almost imperceptibly in his grip.

"It was nice seeing you guys!" Poppy waves happily at his brothers before ushering him away. It takes him a few seconds to realize she's pointing him in the direction of her pod but when he does something small relaxes beneath his ribs. He'll be okay there. He tries not to listen to the cheerful goodbyes of his brothers behind him, cringing away from their farewells like the words themselves could cause physical harm. Poppy ducks in close and tries to meet his eyes with a pinched expression. She doesn't ask if he's okay, she already knows the answer.

#| Game Plans | #{ isolationist } #{ sunshine } #{ the leader } #{ the sensitive one } #{ the fun boy } #{ the heartthrob } #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls poppy #trolls branch #branch and poppy #branch angst #hurt/comfort #angst #trolls fanfic #trolls brozone #brozone #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #broppy

[illusive-mighty-phoenix]

trolls band together spoilers btw

also fic rec :P

ough it’s making me sick to my stomach thinking about how the brothers didn’t meet up with branch again cause they wanted to see him they (understandably) got together to save floyd. i think branch would have some feelings about that, i think branch needs a proper apology from all his brothers

also wanted to share the fic that made me think of this

#trolls #trolls band together #trolls 3 spoilers #trolls band together spoilers #peenix fartz

[findthebae]

Hey, I'm Dick Grayson from DC Comics. I have about seven Nightwing timelines at this moment but at this rate, I feel like it's not unlikely I'll collect more. I'm 20 and would prefer only people 18+ react to this message.

I'm searching for Barbara Gordon, preferably from the Rebirth and Infronite Frontier era of the comics or the Young Justice cartoon but genuinely any source is welcome. I have a lot of timelines where I was with Wally West but I have a small handful of timelines where Barbara and I were romantically inclined, too. I'm really just looking for a Barbara to talk to and connect with, regardless of whether we're canonmates or sourcemates, since no matter what she was always one of my best friends. If that's something you have any interest in please react to this message so I can get back to you or message me @bludswing

@bludswing

#canon calls #dc comics kin #dc kin

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Oops

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/BkjniEp

by Bludswing

They've been staking out Lexcorp for a while now and yet they've been unable to find anything to work with. It's driving Robin up the wall and he swears that there's something more going on but he can't quite put it into words. By the time he figures it out, it might be too late to make a difference.

---------

Hair's Breadth from Death Gun to temple || "Say goodbye." || Impaled

Words: 2921, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Whumptober 2022

Fandoms: World's Finest (Comics), Batman/Superman: World's Finest, Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, Clark Kent, Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El

Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne

Additional Tags: Dick Grayson is Robin, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dick Grayson is romani, Near Death Experiences, Introspection, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Lex Luthor Being an Asshole, Whumptober 2022

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/BkjniEp

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

[kincalling]

Hey, I'm Dick Grayson from DC Comics. I have about seven Nightwing timelines at this moment but at this rate, I feel like it's not unlikely I'll collect more. I'm 20 and would prefer only people 18+ react to this message.

I'm searching for Barbara Gordon, preferably from the Rebirth and Infronite Frontier era of the comics or the Young Justice cartoon but genuinely any source is welcome. I have a lot of timelines where I was with Wally West but I have a small handful of timelines where Barbara and I were romantically inclined, too. I'm really just looking for a Barbara to talk to and connect with, regardless of whether we're canonmates or sourcemates, since no matter what she was always one of my best friends. If that's something you have any interest in please react to this message so I can get back to you or message me @bludswing

🎧

#dick grayson kin #nightwing kin #dc comics kin #canon calls

[findinyourkin]

Hey, I'm Dick Grayson from DC Comics. I have about seven Nightwing timelines at this moment but at this rate, I feel like it's not unlikely I'll collect more. I'm 20 and would prefer only people 18+ react to this message.

I'm searching for Barbara Gordon, preferably from the Rebirth and Infronite Frontier era of the comics or the Young Justice cartoon but genuinely any source is welcome. I have a lot of timelines where I was with Wally West but I have a small handful of timelines where Barbara and I were romantically inclined, too. I'm really just looking for a Barbara to talk to and connect with, regardless of whether we're canonmates or sourcemates, since no matter what she was always one of my best friends. If that's something you have any interest in please react to this message so I can get back to you or message me @bludswing

!!!!!!!!

#canon calls #dick grayson kin #dc comics kin #dc kin

[jasonmftodd]

Can I have cookies now?

😌

No 💙

#ask jason todd #jasonmftodd #bludswing

[fictionkinfessions]

Interest check for 16+ DC kins and/or fictives? Double and system-friendly community, timeline shenanigans welcome. Any DC Entertainment source or media accepted.

party note: If anyone is interested, please reblog, like, or reply to this post! No further ask responses will be posted for this conversation so that no one’s message is missed! Thank you!

#fictionkin #fictive #dccomicskin #dccomicsfictive #dckin #dcfictive #interest checks #not confessions #bludswing #mod party cat!

[dulltoned]

It's been many, many years since the other members of BroZone have spent any real time with Branch. It was easy, in the beginning, to forget that Branch wasn't the same toddler they'd left behind for their grandma to raise. Now that they were staying with Branch for a while it was becoming increasingly clear that Branch had grown in a lot of different ways since they were kids. He was standoffish and neurotic and rough around the edges but it was blatantly obvious that he cared a lot more than he wanted them to know.

They wanted him to know that they cared too.

-- or --

Five times that Branch comforts and supports a member of BroZone and one time that BroZone comes together to be there for Branch.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Things were different for Floyd after everything. In a multitude of ways, some good and some bad, but after his time in captivity everything had changed. The most jarring, oddly enough, was once again living with trolls. He'd spent a lot of his time since initially leaving the Troll Tree all those years ago traveling from city to city. He'd settled more permanently in Mount Rageous somewhere along the line as a vocal coach for up-and-coming stars. He'd needed something steady, without the unknown that hung over his head while going from place to place. He has no plans of going back to the life he'd built for himself. He doubts he'll be stepping foot in Mount Rageous anytime soon and his work was how Velvet and Veneer had gotten their hands on him to begin with. Those memories were tainted in a way he wasn't sure he could ever remedy. The mere thought of the bright lights and constant bustle of the city was enough to make his hands start shaking.

Now every morning he opens his eyes to dirt ceilings and furniture his size made of warm woods. And every time a gentle confusion greets him. Where was the pink hue? The world made for beings at least thirty times his size? Then he remembers that he was free now and Branch had stiltedly offered Brozone his home before they inevitably returned to their own lives. Even now, as he sits up in the bed he would never take for granted again, Floyd has to take a few deep breaths and remind himself that this is the new normal. It's been a week officially but it seems that wasn't near enough time to shake off the two months of captivity.

Floyd exhales slowly and takes a few minutes to ensure he was well enough to get up to start the day. The more time that passes between when Velvet had selfishly tried to drain him dry and now the better he feels but he still had plenty of dizzy spells that could easily send him toppling if he wasn't careful. He feels stable enough that he hops off his bed and grabs one of the cozy sweaters Poppy-- who was apparently the Queen and Branch had just forgotten to mention that-- had given him. It's a simple lilac thing but it's Floyd's favorite of his growing collection of Welcome-to-Troll-Village gifts. It had been so long that Floyd had forgotten just how overwhelmingly hospitable Pop Trolls tended to be. It was more jarring when he'd barely been able to stand and Queen Poppy had tried to shove a welcome card and a piece of cake into his hands but he'll never forget the eye roll and fond smile on Branch's face when he'd swooped in to grab the items and gently scold her. It was more than enough to gain Poppy some more brownie points from him. Brownie points, he muses, the pink Troll seems almost desperate to earn. He brushes imaginary dust from his sweater and tries to ignore the flashes of white swinging at the corner of his vision as he makes his way over to the door and steps out into the rest of the bunker.

The rooms that had initially been meant for the rest of BroZone according to the plans a little Branch and Floyd had eagerly put together when they were much smaller were now full of meticulously organized supplies and storage. Poppy had swiftly offered her own pod to house the reunited family but they'd only lingered around the Queen's home for a few hours when Branch had shown up covered in dirt with a satisfied grin and the news that he had more than enough room for his brothers. Turns out that had meant individual rooms dug out on the lowest level of Branch's bunker with cozy furniture sets that Floyd didn't really want to ask about. He figured that whatever answer he got would put a pit in his stomach and a lump in his throat.

He casts a cursory glance around the large room as he makes his way towards the elevator. There are plenty of shelves covered in canned goods and dried fruit and others towered with construction supplies that were clearly organized in a specific way that Floyd couldn't quite discern. There are a few small alcoves filled with similar things but one space always stands out to Floyd. It's just a small little place with a table and shelves with curtains always pulled neatly shut. It's a cozy little corner that's so starkly different from the rest of the overflowing bunker that Floyd's eyes are drawn to it nearly every day. He doesn't know what's behind the curtains and he doesn't want to upset Branch by asking but he figures one of these nights when he can't get to sleep it wouldn't hurt to take a little peek.

He nods to himself, satisfied with the idea, and hops up onto the elevator platform. It's a cool little contraption that Clay and Branch had talked about in detail with each other just the other day. Floyd hadn't followed the conversation itself but they'd caught him looking at them fondly just the same. Clay had teased him a bit but Branch, who Floyd could see just over Clay's shoulder while the tall Troll ruffled his hair, had looked back with a similar bittersweet expression. Floyd didn't really know how exactly the elevator worked but he was immensely grateful that he didn't have to use stairs to get around the place or else he'd never get anywhere. He felt like he had plenty of energy to spare but it was like every little thing took more effort than it should. He can admit that even a single flight of stairs would take up all he had to give.

He flips up the lever and smiles softly to himself as the elevator rumbles to life and starts the easy crawl up. He couldn't hear anything coming from the kitchen and things echoed through the large space so he was pretty confident none of his brothers were up and about yet. It was likely that Clay was nestled in the armchair Branch had put in his room, curled up around the latest novel for his book club to catch up for the next meeting. John Dory and Spruce-- Bruce, he reminds himself sharply-- were up in the air but considering he couldn't hear them arguing over something it was safe to say that at least they weren't in the same room.

He pulls the lever straight just in time to stop at the kitchen's level and waits for the platform to come to a complete stop before letting go. He'd watched Bruce get lectured by Clay and Branch for improper handling once and he had zero intention of being on the receiving end, even if it was nice to see Branch integrating back into things. Floyd doesn't know if anyone else noticed but he watched how Branch kept his distance, always tucked away in the corner and watching them interact with a wariness that made Floyd's heart hurt. It was a hopeful but steely look that he had never wanted to see on his little brother's face. Like he wanted but he wasn't willing to risk the disappointment.

Speaking of Branch, Floyd slips into the kitchen and spots his little brother sitting at the stone dining table with a mug of something steaming cradled in his paws and a green robe wrapped tightly around him. Branch is already looking at him, eyes narrowed, but his expression softens when he realizes that it's only Floyd. Floyd smiles and offers a soft wave, making his way over to the cabinet to grab down a mug of his own. Branch's eyes follow him and he hums a soft greeting in return. Floyd has come to learn that Branch is somehow not a morning person but also exclusively a morning person. Branch is always the first one up but he never seems happy about it. Floyd grabs down another gift from Poppy, a pink mug the same shade as his hair, and sets it gently on the counter. He sees the pitcher of coffee just a few feet over and can't help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. Coffee sounds absolutely dreadful right now. "Hey," He meets Branch's gaze, "Do you have any tea?"

Branch blinks drowsily a few times and nods, "Yeah, third shelf up on the right in the pantry." He nods towards the door next to the hallway Floyd had entered through. Branch takes a long drink from his cup and lets his eyes fall closed in the quiet bliss of morning coffee, "Be careful with the door, it keeps getting stuck." He warns without opening his eyes.

"Got it," Floyd nods despite knowing that Branch can't see him and moves back across the room. It's not exactly a large kitchen but it could fit them all comfortably. Barely. He pries open the pantry door with only a little effort and he doesn't know why but he's still surprised by the unnecessarily large space. It's more like a restaurant pantry than a home pantry, maybe four Trolls long and three Trolls wide, but the shelves make the space seem infinitely smaller. There are long, sturdy shelves lining the walls from floor to the ceiling packed with bottled drinks, snacks, even more canned foods, and other assorted goodies. Floyd is pretty sure this is the only perishable food he's seen in the whole bunker. He keeps the door propped open with his foot and glances over to the third shelf up on the right and sees plenty of different teas to choose from. That's the Branch he's coming to know and already loves; overprepared and overstocked.

There are plenty of good options but Floyd spots a little green box a bit further into the pantry and perks up immediately. It's a brand he recognizes and the label reads mint chamomile and he knows without a doubt that he needs it. He squints, trying to measure the distance in his mind, and frowns when he realizes that he won't be able to keep the door propped open and also reach his prize. He hears Branch offer an amused snort behind him but waves off his little brother in favor of contemplating his options. He could try to keep the door open and stretch to reach the tea but he's pretty sure he'll just end up falling and that sounded like a bit of a nightmare. He could also just choose a different tea but he's made up his mind now and would be disappointed with something else. He sighs and decides to just step into the pantry, letting the door fall softly shut behind him despite Branch's earlier warning. Push comes to shove he'll just have to either force the door back open or ask Branch to do it but at least by the end of it he'll have his tea.

He grabs the box, turns on his heel, and pushes against the door.

It doesn't budge.

He huffs, tucks the tea under his arm, and braces his shoulder against the door. He pushes. Nothing.

His heart stutters in his chest and he swallows thickly. He's fine. It's just a door, Branch is literally only a few feet away on the other side. This isn't a big deal. He places the tea down gently on top of another box right beside him and places both hands against the door and pushes with all his strength. Nothing. How? He'd barely even let it shut all the way. His arms are shaking and suddenly he's lightheaded and oh no that's not fair he was fine just two seconds ago--

He was fine but now he's not and he can't get out. He needs to get out. His chest is getting tight and his hands and feet feel cold and he jerks away from the door in a panic, glancing down at his hands to make sure that he's not fading away again. The world is pink around the edges and his eyes are burning and oh no he can't get out and--

And the door rips open and Branch is there with wild eyes, reaching in and dragging him out of the pantry with an urgency that matches Floyd's own. Floyd makes a choked noise and his mind briefly flashes to the tea still in the pantry but it feels like he blinks and suddenly Branch has him tucked neatly into his abandoned chair at the table. Branch kneels in front of him, eyes not the same blue that Floyd remembered but bright and worried all the same. "Hey, Floyd, just breathe for a second, okay?" Branch coaxes softly, telegraphing his movements as he reaches out a hand and places it softly atop Floyd's knee.

Floyd hadn't realized that he was practically hyperventilating, muscles so tense his whole body coiled up on the chair. He stutters through his first attempt at an even breath but Branch doesn't say anything, waiting patiently for Floyd to sort himself out. He sucks each breath into uncooperative lungs and with each exhale he unwinds just a bit more. It takes a few minutes for him to calm himself down but Branch is an unwavering support through each agonizing second. With one last exhale Floyd sags back, boneless, and closes his eyes against the wave of exhaustion that crashes into him. Great, there goes all of his energy for the day.

It was incredibly frustrating to be too tired and fragile to do even the smallest things more often than not. He had never been the most productive of their family but he certainly wasn't a slacker either. He liked to get things done and get out of the house, run errands and do chores. His heart twists when he remembers that Grandma had always praised him for his willingness to help her keep the pod up and running.

The soft clunk of ceramic on stone rings loud in his ears and startles him from his thoughts. His eyes shoot open to find his mug sat in front of him filled to the brim with tea. "Oh," he blinks a few times, emotions still high and touched at the thoughtful gesture. He turns his gaze to Branch, standing beside him and once more clutching his own now lukewarm mug in his hands. "Thanks." He smiles warmly.

Branch huffs but his lips pull up into a grin, "You okay?" He asks carefully, so clearly testing the waters to see if Floyd wants to talk about it. It's such a sweet, if not incredibly awkward, gesture and it only adds to the growing adoration nestled beneath Floyd's ribs.

"Yeah, yeah," Floyd nods distractedly, reaching out to wrap his fingers around his cup to hide the near imperceptible tremble. The warmth seeps through the ceramic into his skin and a soft sigh of contentment slips out before he can even think about it. The tea and the cozy comfort of the sweater do wonders to soothe his frayed nerves. "I'm fine, really. I don't know what that was." He admits softly, chuckling in hopes of removing the stiff line of tension in Branch's shoulders despite the unease still churning in his own stomach.

He succeeds, technically, but Branch seems to only have lost the tension in his new confusion. He tilts his head and stares at Floyd in that terrifying way he does where it feels like he's picking you apart and digging up all your best-kept secrets. Floyd wonders if he ever looks at the others that way or if this was an expression reserved just for him. He's noticed that Branch is quiet but it's not because he's not paying attention. Branch, Floyd has learned, is nothing if not observant. A look of brief realization crossed Branch's face, "A panic attack." He says, suddenly.

"What?" Now it's Floyd's turn to be confused.

"A panic attack." Branch repeats, shifting his eyes downward to the contents of his cup. "They can happen after something traumatic or because of stress and stuff." He explains offhandedly, swirling his drink. He seems to stare at the contents even more intently then, "I get them, sometimes." He shrugs, bringing the cup to his lips and downing the rest.

"Oh," Floyd feels like he's always at a loss for words with Branch these days. Sometimes Branch just says or does something that really forces Floyd to remember that Branch has lived his life without them. He's not the little kid they left behind and sometimes what that might entail sneaks up on Floyd in the worst way. "That's--" The sound of the elevator humming to life and starting it's descent back down to the lower floor breaks through his thoughts and spurs Branch into action. The younger quickly deposits his mug in the sink and flees down a different hallway, likely to scamper off down a flight of stairs and find some project around the bunker to busy himself with. That's one more thing Floyd has realized. Every room has at least two exits.

He can already hear John Dory and Bruce bickering as the elevator climbs back toward the kitchen level. All Floyd can think about is who had been there for Branch when he'd been scared and panicking?

#{ isolationist } #{ the sensitive one } #| Game Plans | #trolls band together #floyd trolls #trolls branch #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #panic attack #// panic attacks

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Branch spends the next few days trying his best to enjoy what time he has left. He stomps down the bitter sting every time his brothers get together to talk about the future and tries to bask in the little moments they allow him. Branch makes breakfast for Bruce and tries to wriggle a recipe out of him that he can cherish during the gray days. He spends an evening with Clay talking about novels and getting as many recommendations as he can so he can know what kind of books his brother likes. He even lets John Dory pick at a few of his projects so they can bond over their shared handiness born from their survivalist pasts. Branch has never gotten to know much about his brothers, he was so young when they left he can barely remember any of the little details, so he clings to everything now. Clay's ears flick when he's irritated over something insignificant, like a bent page in his book or the uneven amount of pencils at Branch's workspace. John Dory sleeps with that stupid glove on, and he cleans off his goggles every night because the routine helps him relax. Floyd hums rock songs in the shower even though he doesn't like the lyrics because he loves the melody. Bruce isn't a huge fan of seafood after so many years serving it back in his restaurant on Vacay Island but he loves Country Troll cuisine.

Branch gathers every little detail he can and he tucks it away because he knows that soon enough these few fleeting memories will be all that he has left to hold on to. Soon enough they'll be on their way and he'll be alone with only their ghosts to haunt him. He thought that he was finally done grieving. He thought that maybe he was finally ready to let go of the family that didn't want him. Now he can already feel their absence like a gaping wound even though they're still here sitting in the next room over.

Today is the day. Branch takes a fortifying breath and brushes nonexistent dust off his vest before slipping out of the kitchen to go gather up his brothers from the living space around the corner. He plasters a smile on his face as he steps through the entryway, leaning up against the arching entrance like nothing could possibly be wrong. John Dory has Clay tucked under his arm and is violently ruffling the younger troll's bright green hair. Bruce is cackling, nearly doubled over, and even Floyd is hiding a few loose chuckles behind his paw. Clay's hair admittedly doesn't look any different than it did before but that doesn't stop him from spewing protests.

"Are you guys done yet or should I give you some more time?" Branch teases, raising an unimpressed eyebrow that's betrayed by the amused smile spreading across his face.

John pauses his assault to look over at Branch and his grip seems to have loosened just enough for Clay to make his hasty escape. "I guess we can cut this short," John Dory shrugs, smirking while Clay grumbles and Bruce wipes tears from his eyes. John looks proud, smug in a way that Branch thinks only an oldest brother could be. His heart aches wondering if this is the last time he'll see that expression and he struggles to keep his smile in place.

"I'm sure the balloon is already set up so we better get this over with." Branch pushes off the entryway and tucks his hands deep into his trouser pockets in a hopefully subtle attempt to hide how they've started to shake. Bruce's laugh is still ringing in his ears and he can't help but ask himself if he'll be able to remember it so distinctly a year from now. He swallows thickly, eyes flicking from sibling to sibling and drinking in the easy smiles on their faces. They look so happy right now, joking and laughing and roughhousing like brothers are supposed to. Branch feels so out of place. Do they even care that they're leaving him behind all over again? Have they even noticed that they're ripping his heart to bits and stealing away the tattered pieces so he could never hope to be whole again without them? Do they think he's being childish because he's so heartbroken over something inevitable?

"I guess you're right," John Dory agrees, stretching out and popping his back. John throws Branch an easy smile and motions for the rest of their brothers to gather up so they can head out. Clay rolls his eyes and helps Floyd up from the armchair while Bruce stands from the couch. This is it. This is really it. Branch's heart flutters pathetically beneath his ribs and dread thrums through his veins. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not again. This wasn't enough time. He wanted more time. "Lead the way, little brother."

Branch is helpless to do anything else but swallow down the vile, bubbling emotions climbing up his throat and walk them out of the bunker towards the clearing Poppy arranged for their departure.

The pit in Branch's stomach only grows with each step and he listens with mounting irritation as his brothers chatter excitedly behind him. They're all excited to get back to their lives and Branch wishes he could begrudge them that. He wants so badly to be angry but he can't. They deserve to go back to their lives, their homes, their families. He doesn't want them to be miserable, he just wishes that he could be part of their happiness. He's well acquainted with loving others more than he's loved but the hurt never quite fades.

"Hey, Branch, you're quiet up there." Bruce calls and Branch looks over his shoulder curiously. Bruce smiles back teasingly, his eyes shining with bright mirth that Branch doesn't think the situation warrants, "Got something on your mind?"

"Or someone," Floyd joins in with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows that makes Clay cough a poorly concealed laugh.

Branch frowns, eyebrows furrowing, "What?"

"Poppy's going to be there, right?" Bruce asks like it's obvious and the pieces slot into place. They thought he was distracted because Poppy was going to be there to see them off?

"Oh. Not really," Branch shrugs. He turns back around when he sees their expressions shift, smiles dropping while they share confused glances. Branch figured it would be obvious why he was so quiet but maybe that was a bit presumptuous of him. He's been eagerly spending as much time with them as he could these past few weeks despite how obvious they were about their plans to exclude him. He guesses his silence now could be seen as a little odd, all things considered.

They don't say anything else for the rest of the trip. At least not to Branch. He hears them muttering but he doesn't try to listen in or even turn his head to look back again. He does his best to keep his eyes straight ahead and tune them out. Before he knows it he can see the large burgundy body of the hot air balloon growing steadily larger in the distance and the dread burrowed in his gut spikes. This is it. 

John Dory lets out an impressed whistle, "It's bigger than I expected," he admits but he sounds excited about it. It hadn't even occurred to Branch that his brothers wouldn't really be familiar with traditional Pop Troll transportation anymore. Branch offers a noncommittal hum and scans the area around the balloon's basket for a splash of pink. He spots her quickly and some of the hurt in his chest dissipates. He can breathe a little easier knowing that she's here.

It's only a few moments before Poppy notices them, Viva a bundle of energy at her side. Pink eyes find them from across the clearing and a smile breaks out across Poppy's face like the sun after a rainstorm. She bounces on the balls of her feet and waves excitedly, calling a loud hello instead of waiting the thirty seconds it would take for them to reach her. Branch can't help but chuckle, shaking his fondly with a roll of his eyes while John and Bruce yell back their own greetings. Viva rushes over at top speed, twirling around Clay before falling into step beside him like it was second nature. She's rambling excitedly about something that Branch doesn't have the energy to try and follow but Clay is smiling brightly and nodding along.

"Hey," Poppy greets him softly, sliding up to him and gently grasping the front of his vest so she could pull him in for a swift kiss. Her eyes scan over his face and a frown tugs at her lips, "Are you okay?" She whispers, ducking in close for some semblance of privacy.

Branch tries to offer a reassuring smile but it feels bittersweet and tired, "As good as I can be," he sighs, lifting a hand to rest it softly over hers, "Better with you here." He confesses and bumps their foreheads together. She smiles, though the worried furrow between her brows remains. Branch wants nothing more than to smooth out the creases, chase away the concern she's wasting on him, but he knows that there's nothing he can do to convince her that he's fine. She wouldn't believe him even if there was.

She presses another quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away to properly greet his brothers, sharing a few warm hellos, "So, is everyone all set?" She looks between them, hands on her hips, like she expects them to have luggage despite the fact that they arrived empty-handed. She doesn't wait for a response before she turns on her heel and gestures to the small grassy hill next to the balloon that would give them easy access, "You guys should have plenty of room and there's a bunch of blankets if it gets cold, I also packed a lot of snacks just in case you got hungry. Oh! And there are some games--" "Okay, okay, sounds great Poppyseed," John interrupts, eyes wide when he realizes that Poppy had no intention of stopping her ramblings. He raises his hands in an attempt to slow her down, "What about a manual?" He presses curiously, the shock bleeding away to a fond amusement that made Branch's heart pang.

"Here," Branch reaches up into his hair and pulls out the pilot's manual. He refused to give it back after Poppy'd thrown it out just a few months ago. It's been haunting him these past few days but he hadn't dared to forget it on the way out of the bunker. He steps forward and passes the thick volume to John Dory, trying not to look at his brother's grateful smile, "It's pretty extensive but you only really need to read the first and the fifth chapter for a quick trip." He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to keep up a lighthearted attitude

"I'll take that," Clay reaches over and plucks the book from John Dory's hands with ease, grinning as he completely ignores John's protests. Viva giggles by Clay's side and even leans in to get a better look at the manual while Clay flips through it to see the table of contents. Branch watches the two self-proclaimed Putt Putt Trolls and hopes that maybe Clay will come along when Viva inevitably decides to visit. Branch has come to really enjoy having another level-headed, fact-oriented troll around and one brother would be better than none. If he's lucky, which he can admit isn't likely, maybe Clay will even keep him updated on their other siblings.

"So this thing is all ready to go?" Bruce looks up at the large balloon, admiring the structure with muted curiosity. He doesn't look too interested but rather intrigued by something unfamiliar.

"Yep!" Poppy chirps, bouncing over to stand back and look with Bruce despite being well-acquainted with Pop Troll travel methods. She's already flown out to visit each of the other Kingdoms at least once since the end of the Rockapocalypse. "All the prep work was finished last night so all you need to do now is climb aboard." She explains with a curt nod, clearly proud of herself and her work.

"Well!" John Dory claps his hands together drawing everyone's attention back to him, "Sounds like that's that then, let's get this show on the road, huh?"

"We shouldn't drag this out any longer," Floyd agrees with a sad smile and a small nod. John moves first, stepping forward to ruffle Branch's hair before walking over to climb up the incline. He vaults over the lip of the basket easily and quickly begins looking around. Floyd follows after him, shuffling forward with a clear exhaustion weighing down his limbs. He walks right past Branch without even glancing back, hiking up the hill and accepting John Dory's help into the basket with whispered thanks. Branch swallows convulsively, trying to push down the lump growing in his throat. Did Floyd not even want to say goodbye?

A hand lands lightly on his shoulder and Branch turns around only to be wrapped up in Bruce's arms. Instinctively Branch hugs back, squeezing tightly and nuzzling into Bruce's comforting hold. Bruce's arms envelop him in a warm, secure embrace and Branch mourns the fact that he'll likely never get to feel safe in his brother's arms again. "It was really nice seeing you again," Bruce murmurs into Branch's hair with a soft sniffle.

Branch's own eyes burn but he forces out a small laugh, "Yeah, you too, man." He doesn't think he'll ever forget the joy he felt when Bruce first told them that he was a father. He was terrified and elated at the idea of being an uncle. Bruce pulls back and wipes his eyes, a bright and happy smile on his face before he, too, leaves. It's getting harder and harder for Branch to keep his expression neutral and he finds himself desperately wishing for Clay and Viva to make their leave before he starts to break again.

Clay, thankfully, steps in and pulls Branch into a side hug with the manual tucked neatly under his other arm. Viva detaches to go say her own farewells to Poppy and Branch is pitifully grateful for the modicum of privacy. Clay presses their temples together with a lop-sided grin, "Take care of yourself, okay?" He extracts himself quickly but also reaches out to ruffle Branch's hair like John Dory had and Branch doesn't even try to push him away.

"Yeah, you too." Branch tries to smile back but his world is starting to feel dark and desaturated again. He wonders if Poppy would notice. She insists that she can see his hues shift with his mood even when Branch himself couldn't tell. He wonders if she can see the color draining out of him the way it feels like it should be. Watching Clay turn away and stride confidently over to the balloon stirs something deep and anguished in Branch's chest and he stomps down the urge to reach out and ask them to come back. It was too familiar watching them leave and being powerless to make them stay.

Viva and Poppy wrap up their own muted conversation and share a tight hug before Viva rushes off after Clay. They climb into the basket together, talking excitedly about something or another, and it makes Branch's stomach churn seeing them all so content while his world crashes down around him again. He realizes with sudden and startling clarity that he has to say goodbye. He can't let them leave this time without saying something.

He scrambles forward before Poppy can make her way back to his side and looks up into the basket with wild eyes. Floyd spots him first and his merry expression drops immediately but Branch speaks before Floyd gets a chance to question him. "I know it probably doesn't mean much," Branch starts hesitantly and has to take a calming breath when his brothers' attention shifts unwaveringly to him. "But I'm going to miss you guys." John shares a confused look with Bruce and Clay while Floyd's frown only becomes more pronounced. Floyd moves back towards the edge of the basket with a shake of his head.

"What do you mean? Of course it means something," Floyd assures softly, leaning over the rim to better meet Branch's eyes. Floyd's scanning him over and it makes Branch feel exposed.

Branch tries to laugh it off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "I guess I wanted to make sure that you knew this time." He cringes the second the words leave his mouth, "That came out wrong--" He immediately tries to backtrack before he ruins any chance he has at ever seeing any of his brothers ever again.

"Back up," John Dory cuts in, appearing at Floyd's side, "Why is this starting to sound like goodbye?"

Branch freezes, dumbfounded, and blinks up at them. His anxiety is drowned out quickly by his confusion, "..isn't it?" He asks only to be met with two startled faces. Branch cranes his neck to look at Bruce and Clay so he can see if they're as confused as he is but they look just as upset as John and Floyd do.

"Hey, Viv, maybe we should give them a second." Poppy chimes in from somewhere behind him and he watches distractedly as Viva climbs back out of the balloon and walks off somewhere with her sister. He's sure he'll be grateful to Poppy for this later but right now he's just trying to get his thoughts sorted. Why were they so shocked? Did his brothers really think that he was that oblivious? He wasn't blind, it was easy to see that they were keeping him away from their important conversations.

John Dory hops over the rim of the basket and lands neatly in front of Branch, "Why in the world would this be goodbye?" He asks urgently. There's something desperate in his eyes that Branch can't quite discern but he doesn't understand why they're the ones making such a fuss about this. He was the one who had a right to be upset but he was trying to let them go.

Branch tilts his head and scoffs, sparing a glance at the hill where Bruce is carefully helping Floyd back out of the balloon before turning his attention back to John, "Aren't you guys leaving?" He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms to keep himself from fidgeting with the hem of his vest. John Dory gestures to him frantically, making an exaggerated noise of disbelief before turning to the others like they could possibly help him.

"Yeah, for now," Clay looks at Branch like he's grown a second head and it was really starting to piss him off. What right did they have to be so flabbergasted? They were the ones who made plans to ditch him, not the other way around. This wasn't his plan.

"Where in the world did you get the idea that we weren't coming back?" Bruce adds on, asking the question that was apparently on all of their minds as he lowers himself down from the edge of the hill to drop down beside John.

"It's not like you've been subtle," Branch snarls, taking a sick pleasure in how his brothers jump away from the sudden tone shift. Good. If they wanted to play dumb they deserve to face the consequences. "You've been here for almost two weeks and every time I happen to walk into the room the conversation dies. A few days ago you were talking about just how much room Vacay Island and the Golf Course have for everyone without even a single mention of Pop Village. Are you kidding me! Why the hell would I think you were staying?" Recognition is blooming across Floyd's face and he can see the realization dawning for Clay like it was happening in slow motion. The green-haired troll's eyes widen just a fraction and his mouth drops open into a soft oh and it'd be funny if it wasn't because Branch had known all along that they were planning to abandon him again. He was so tired of being thrown away like he was nothing and they had the audacity to think he was too stupid to catch on? Maybe Poppy was right and he should just cut his losses and accept that they didn't want him in their lives. He was better off without them anyway.

"You got it all wrong!" John reaches out and places his gloved hand firmly on Branch's shoulder but Branch jerks back with a growl. There wasn't any guilt on their faces but instead a soft, bitter understanding that was starting to make Branch feel cornered. He was getting real sick of being left out of the loop.

"Branch, please, just let us explain," Floyd implores. Branch huffs, glaring, but some of the tension falls away at his brother's plea. Floyd looks at him with desperate lilac eyes that are starting to fill with rising guilt and Branch loathes to see his kind-hearted sibling so hurt. He doesn't want to cave, he wants them to deal with how they've hurt him and feel the weight of their actions, but it's Floyd who's asking and that's enough to break his resolve. Branch waves a hand with a sharp exhale, silently urging them to continue before he changes his mind.

His brothers sag with visible relief and John Dory quickly scrambles to take the reigns once more. "We thought you were uncomfortable," he tries to explain and his face his twisted apologetically with such genuine regret that Branch wants to believe him. "Whenever we started talking about our plans for after we went home you'd start to get all fidgety or you'd just kind of…"

"Leave," Bruce finishes off. John Dory's eyes flick back to Bruce before nodding.

"We thought that you didn't want to talk about it, which feels really stupid in hindsight." Clay admits with a disappointed sigh. Like he's realizing he should have known better but he'd been so caught up in the moment that it hadn't even occurred to him.

Branch can only stare at them in disbelief, waiting for one of them to laugh and tell him this was some sort of stupid joke. "Are you serious?" He seethes, paws closing into tight fists that shake at his sides. "The first few days you guys only talked about how eager you were to go home," Branch had been a bit flighty at first and, in the beginning, his heart would jump into his throat every time they started talking about how excited they were to go back to their lives. He was scared. Scared to lose them, scared that despite everything they just went through for each other it still wasn't enough to hold them together, and he didn't want to ruin their happiness with his own catastrophizing. "You laughed in my face when you thought I wanted us to be in each other's lives and you think I'm jumping to conclusions thinking that this is the last time I'm going to see you?"

Floyd looks horrified. Branch realizes that there's a decent chance that Floyd didn't know about that part. "Branch, I'm moving to Pop Village." Floyd says in lieu of any empty comforts he could've offered. What's done is done, they couldn't take it back.

"What?" Branch breathes, hesitant joy bubbling up and peeking through the anger still burning bright in his stomach.

Floyd smiles and it's bright and contagious, drawing similar expressions from their brothers, "I wanted it to be a surprise but after everything I really don't want to go back to Mount Rageous. I still need to talk the details over with Poppy but I wanted to move here to be closer to other trolls again. To be closer to you." Floyd looks like he wants to close the distance between them and Branch is glad that he doesn't. There's a tentative trust being built but Branch is still wired from the roller coaster this conversation has become and he's sure that one wrong move will send him tumbling.

"I'm coming back with him to pick up Rhonda but I plan to stop by often now that I know where this place is," John Dory gestures back the way they came towards Pop Village. It's plausible, it's all plausible, but Branch is still hesitant to believe them. He doesn't know what he'd do if all these reassurances were empty and meaningless.

Bruce steps forward slowly, raising his hands in surrender when Branch takes a hasty step back. His face is soft and open when he speaks, "I'm sorry we weren't really thinking, Branch. And we never should have implied that we didn't want to be a family again. We were frustrated and angry and tensions were high but adding everything up it's not too hard to see how you came to these conclusions," Branch wonders if this is what a dad voice is. He never met his father and he never really had the kind of friends that would introduce him to their parents. He imagines that this is what Bruce sounds like when he soothes his kids and tells them that everything is going to be alright and that makes something small and broken buried under his ribs yearn. "We want you to visit too, B. I want you to come to Vacay Island and meet your nephews and niece." "And I'd love to show you around the Golf Course!" Clay chimes in brightly, eyes shining with unshed tears that contrast with the fond smile on his face.

"Have you seen your bunker? You'd be amazing at camping." John Dory agrees warmly.

"We just got you back," Floyd murmurs but it's loud in their close proximity. "I don't think any of us want to say goodbye."

Branch feels the last of his protective anger drain out of him and sucks in a shaky breath. He smiles, uncertain and thin, but it seems to be enough to reassure his brothers. "Okay."

"We're really sorry, Branch," Clay insists, blinking away the wetness in his eyes and staring over at his youngest brother with blatant worry, "We really just weren't thinking, man. We never wanted to exclude you or make you feel like this was it."

"It's okay, really, I have a bad habit of overthinking this kind of thing," Branch sniffs, trying to be casual despite how his heart was still racing. He was already upset that he'd accidentally made a big deal out of nothing but it was admittedly nice to be reassured so sincerely. It soothed his frayed nerves in a way that was strange but welcome.

"It's not," Floyd disagrees quickly and Branch startles, "It's not, not really, but we'll have time to make up for it, okay?" And isn't that everything that Branch ever wanted? He'd wanted more time and miraculously they're giving it to him. Maybe this isn't the end, maybe it wasn't time for goodbyes after all. His heart starts to calm and a fragile hope begins to bloom where the anxiety was nestled under his sternum.

"Yeah," Branch nods, his smile shifting into something lighter, "I'd like that."

John reaches forward and snags Branch by the wrist, tugging him forward before Branch could even think to ask what was going on. John Dory's arms wrap around him in a bone-crushing hug, "I'll be back, got it?" He says firmly into Branch's hair. Branch nods into John Dory's shoulder, arms raised with shocked uncertainty. He gives in after a few beats and hugs his brother back as tightly as he can.

Branch lets the hug linger, grasping tightly to the leather of John Dory's vest until the contact starts to make his skin itch. He detaches himself stiffly, shaking out his arms with an awkward chuckle, "You guys really should get going, though. You're burning daylight." It still hurts to see them go but it feels different than it had before.

"That's probably for the best, huh?" Floyd agrees, reaching out a hand to Clay in a silent request for help that the older troll quickly jumps to oblige.

Branch uses the time it takes his brothers to hoist themselves back into the basket to compose himself. These past few weeks have been incredibly jarring and he thinks that he's seen enough of his emotions for the next few months but… it's also been surprisingly rewarding. He turns to scan the treeline hoping to spot a flash of pink but he doesn't even have to go looking before Poppy and Viva pop into view already making their way back over. They had to of been watching from a distance but Branch is confident that Poppy would have dragged them far enough away that they couldn't have overhead anything so he's not worried.

Viva bounds back over to the balloon and practically tackles Clay in her dash over to him. They immediately start talking quietly and this time Branch can admire their dynamic without any clouds of resentment hanging over him.

"You got this thing figured out?" Branch asks. "Totally. No need to worry," Clay assures, raising the manual and wiggling it for emphasis. Branch is glad that there's someone on that thing who'll actually read the instructions.

"I'll see you around, then, I guess." Branch smiles.

"Soon," Bruce promises.

With that they cut the ropes holding the balloon down and start the ascent into the open air. Branch and Poppy wave with vastly different levels of energy and their siblings wave back. There's no pit in Branch's stomach as he watches them get further and further away and no crushing sorrow when they say their goodbyes. It's not goodbye this time, not really, it's see you later. That makes him feel lighter than he has in days.

"You're looking blue," Poppy admires at his side, slotting her paw into his like it's meant to be there. You're looking happy, she means.

"I am." He admits quietly and is surprised to find that he means it.

#{ isolationist } #{ the leader } #{ the sensitive one } #{ the fun boy } #{ the heartthrob } #{ sunshine } #| game plans | #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls band together #trolls brozone #trolls branch #trolls bruce #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls poppy #trolls broppy #angst #branch angst #hurt/comfort #family #fluff #trolls fanfic

[dulltoned]

Branch's boyband days are far behind him. Far, far behind him. He's way too busy to be singing and dancing and playing games. He's building the hideout-- his bunker-- and it's a lot of work to dig out the rooms and start collecting all the supplies and provisions he'll need in the years to come. His grandma is gone, he has no idea where his brothers are or when they'll come back, and the rest of the village isn't really his biggest fan. It's just him and he needs to keep his head on straight.

It's not his fault these other trolls won't leave him alone.

__

A oneshot collection that tries to build a canonical way for Kismet to exist while exploring how the other members of the band came into Branch's life, how they grew to be close friends, and the trials they help each other through along the way

Admittedly, Branch could have planned this better. He left the bunker a few hours ago to restock the wood for his construction supplies and he already had two large bundles but he needed three. He realized a little too late that he didn't really have the means to carry three full bundles through the woods. He glares down at the bundles he already has. He was almost a fully grown troll now, only a few years out from adulthood, and he should've thought about this before he even left the bunker. He's learned the hard way that he can't rely on anyone else and he can't afford to make stupid mistakes like this. The Bergens could show up at any time and if he's unprepared it could mean his death.

"Damn it," He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the budding headache. He could probably fashion some sort of strap out of a vine or two so he could carry one of the bundles on his back but he was a long way away from the bunker and he didn't want to hurt himself if he could avoid it. He'd be leaving himself vulnerable if he pulled something and that was an amateur mistake he won't be repeating. It's looking like he might need to make a second trip if he wants to have everything he needs for the next room expansion but a glance up at the sky quickly puts a stop to those plans. The sky is overcast and heavy with dark clouds rolling in. He'd be caught in the storm if he had to walk all the way to the bunker and back again but he'd already collected all the suitable material from around the clearing he's built the bunker in. Any and all wood he could collect would be soaked through and useless if he tried to do two trips. He didn't want the structural support in his walls to be warped after all. "Come on, Branch." He sighs, tapping his foot as he tries to decide the lesser evil. He needs the supplies if he's going to be productive and it'd throw a wrench in his plans to push back the expansion.

He's resigned himself to an aching back when he hears a light humming coming from the bushes to his right. His ears twitch, alert, as he turns to face the incoming stranger. The humming gets louder, occasionally forming mumbled lyrics, and Branch's shoulders rise with building tension as the noise gets closer. He doesn't have time to gather up the supplies and get out of there before he's spotted so he waits anxiously for the inevitable confrontation.

It's not too much longer before a yellow glitter troll emerges from the bushes, pushing aside the foliage with one paw and holding a large handful of red berries in the other. He's singing the last notes of whatever song he had stuck in his head under his breath, seemingly unaware of Branch as he picks some stray twigs from his purple hair and brushes leaves from his trousers. He pops one of the berries into his mouth. Branch is hoping that maybe the other troll will just walk right past him and leave him be. He's never been lucky. The troll stumbles to a stop when he catches Branch out of the corner of his eye and for a few seconds the two just stare at each other with wide eyes. The glitter troll shakes himself from his stupor and offers a soft smile, "Hey, didn't see you there," he greets. There's no judgment or hesitation in his eyes when he talks to Branch and it catches him off guard.

"Uh, hey," He stutters before he can remind himself to ignore the intrusion. The glitter troll doesn't so much as blink at the awkward response though. Instead he pops another berry into his mouth and steps closer to get a better look at the heavy bundles of wood Branch has left on the ground. "Whew, that's a lot of wood." He remarks curiously, turning green eyes to look at Branch more closely. He still doesn't say anything about Branch's gray pelt or the colorless black of his hair and Branch doesn't know when the other shoe will drop but it's starting to make his skin itch. He doesn't like this attention, he feels oddly exposed beneath this random troll's warm gaze. "Are you in construction or something?" Branch raises an unimpressed eyebrow in response. The troll blinks, confused, before he suddenly perks up, "Oh, I'm Boom by the way." Branch hadn't been looking for an introduction but he supposes it's nice to put a name to the face he'd like to avoid.

Branch doesn't reply. He decides that he doesn't know what this troll wants but he isn't inclined to give it to him. He looks back down at his supplies and commits to his backpack idea. He nods sternly to himself and heads off towards one of the nearby trees covered in thick vines and moss tangled in the gigantic bark. He doesn't bother to keep track of Boom as he sets about his task. It takes him a few minutes to assess the tree to determine that the best way to get down the vines would be to climb up and cut them off. He's startled out of his thoughts when Boom makes himself known again.

"So," the glitter troll drawls, popping another berry into his mouth. Branch scowls. "Do you want some help with that?" He asks, not looking away from the vines Branch had been appraising.

"No," Branch grinds out, easily extending his hair up to loop around an especially thick vine that swoops back up all the way into the foliage. He pulls himself up with ease and balances precariously on the thick body of the plant. He digs a small pocket knife out of his pocket and cuts through the vine with a single slice, using the severed end to swing back down to the ground. He doesn't spare a glance at Boom as he estimates the length he'll need before cutting it accordingly.

"Cool," Boom beams. He doesn't gush or awe but he nods at the impressive feat. Not dismissive but not over the top either. Branch can't figure out what he wants. He growls and coils up his vine before stomping back over to his abandoned wood bundles. Boom, of course, merrily follows after him.

Branch does his best to ignore the pest that's latched onto him and shrugs the rolled-up vine up onto his shoulder. Boom only watches on in silence as Branch hefts one bundle of wood up beneath each arm and begins his trek further into the woods. Branch expects the glitter troll to give up after he so rudely brushed him aside but no such luck. Instead, Boom trails after him, popping another berry into his mouth before holding out the dwindling handful in a silent offer. Branch shoots him a dirty look and picks up the pace.

Boom follows. No matter how far into the forest Branch goes Boom is right on his heel. Branch feels his irritation growing until he can't just grit his teeth and bear it anymore. His head falls back with a loud groan before he whips around to face the offending troll, "What do you want!" He demands, glaring daggers at his self-appointed shadow.

Boom blinks. He ran out of berries a few paces back but that still hadn't deterred him from following Branch around like a lost cuddle puppy. "Sorry man, I guess I just figured you could use some company?"

Branch blinks back, brows furrowing, "What could have possibly given you that impression?" He huffs, adjusting the wood in his arms. His arms were already starting to burn and he hadn't ever collected the third bundle yet. He was going to be sore tomorrow but he could work through it he's sure.

"Well you just seemed kind of upset," Boom shrugs with a kind smile on his face like that was a decent excuse.

Branch scoffs and rolls his eyes, "I'm grey." He says like it explains exactly why that was such a ridiculous reason. To him, it does. People around the village avoided him. The adults weren't unkind but they looked at him with undisguised unease and discomfort. A lot of the younger trolls could be borderline cruel. Mocking words were often thrown his way by trolls his age and even if he wanted friends-- which he didn't-- it wasn’t like anyone wanted to spend time with someone like him. He was bad luck; unhappy and miserable just like the Bergens that killed Grandma.

Boom shrugs, "So?" Branch was used to the blind optimism of Troll Village but this was too much.

"What do you think that means?" Branch snarls, his temper rising again.

"That you could use some company." Boom throws back, a smug look sliding across his face when Branch could only blink back. The tables have turned, it seems.

Branch sighs, glaring at the glitter troll who only grinned back unfazed. They stand locked in a stare-down for a minute before Branch rolls his eyes and drops one of his bundles to the floor, rolling his shoulder to ease the ache. It feels good to shift the weight, the one bundle is a much easier burden to carry. "If you're not going to leave you could at least be helpful." He sniffs, turning his glare down to the floor. He likes being alone. There's no one who can disappoint him if there's no one there. There's no one to lose if he has no one to care about. But he can admit that it's lonely. It hurts to be disregarded by the same trolls who watched him and his brothers grow up before BroZone fell apart and Grandma died. He's been tossed aside so carelessly time and time again but Boom still lingered no matter how unkind Branch was. It was stupid how this hesitant yearning sparked in his chest.

Whatever. They weren't friends. He'd probably never see Boom again. If nothing else he can at least get an extra pair of hands out of this.

Boom absolutely beams and scoops up the bundle of wood with a small grunt of effort, "You got it!" He's way too excited for Branch's liking and he looks far too content to be doing manual labor for a stranger in the woods but whatever. If it'll keep Branch from unnecessary pain and keep him on schedule then he'd be an idiot to say no. They travel through the woods in relative silence as Branch picks up more sturdy-looking branches and Boom occasionally hums a stray melody. Boom doesn't lose the bounce in his step for even a second, happily following Branch along, and even occasionally picking up a few stray pieces of wood himself to add to their growing collection. Still, he doesn't say anything unkind or start asking invasive questions. He just follows behind Branch and helps without so much as a complaint. Branch still doesn't understand but he's starting to accept that maybe this was all there was to it and there wasn't some secret agenda lurking around the corner.

"So, what's all this for?" Boom asks when Branch ties up the last bundle and calls their search finished.

Branch narrows his eyes at the glitter troll and hefts up the two bundles. "Why?" He asks, voice thick with suspicion. He appreciated the help but that doesn't mean he was any closer to this stranger than he was before. He's already gotten teased enough about the bunker for a lifetime, thank you very much.

Boom shrugs, "Just wondering," he replies with a lighthearted grin, "You don't have to tell me or anything, I'm just curious." He adjusts the wood held a bit awkwardly in his arms, "It's just a lot, I figured it had to be for something specific."

This has to be some sort of bait. Word got around about the grey troll allegedly living underground, there was no way he hadn't heard something about it, and Branch was the only gray troll in the whole village. He huffs and turns on his heel, starting the long trek back to the bunker. The sky was dark and gray, a near-perfect match for the desaturated color of Branch's skin, and it was clear they didn't have much time before they got caught in the storm. He hears Boom pick up his happy humming as he follows after Branch without so much as a disappointed whine. It does nothing to ease Branch's confusion.

The walk back to the bunker passes in the same way the wood scavenging did and Branch wonders how someone could be so content despite getting no answers about the work they were doing. It's a while before he can see the clearing where the bunker's entrance was located but when he spots it up ahead he swiftly picks up speed. Even only carrying one bundle of wood under each arm he could still feel the weight dragging his shoulders down and he's certain that he's still gonna be sore come tomorrow morning. He can't imagine the way his body would've ached had he forced himself to lug all three bundles back by himself. There's no way in hell he'll tell Boom that.

"You can leave it here." Branch hums, dropping his own two loads onto the grass beside the hidden trap door that would finally bring him home.

Boom blinks in surprise, shifting his armful with uncertainty, "Are you sure? These things are heavy, I'm more than happy to help you take them home." Even after carrying wood through the woods for what couldn't have been any less than two hours the glitter troll is still offering more help. Branch supposes that was the way the troll community worked at its core but he's spent the majority of his life isolated from that both by choice and by circumstance. It's weirding him out.

"This is fine." He replies curtly.

"If you're sure…" Boom trails off, lowering the wood down beside the supplies Branch left on the grass. "I had a lot of fun, though, thanks." The glitter troll smiles over at him, running his hands through that deep purple hair, and Branch looks back in utter confusion.

"We just walked through the woods," Branch huffs. "I made you carry like thirty pounds around for hours." He gestures to the wood at his feet. He just doesn't get this troll and it's starting to really get on his nerves.

Boom shrugs for what must be the umpteenth time and his smile only brightens, "Yeah, but I kind of enjoy the stormy days and I was out for a walk anyway. You're a bit prickly but you don't make bad company." That, Branch knows, is a downright lie. He only raises a disbelieving eyebrow in response but Boom just laughs. "I'll see you around, maybe?" He asks, tilting his head.

Branch shrugs back, "It probably can't be helped." They both lived in the same village after all.

"Cool," Boom nods, offering a cheery wave before turning around and making his leave back the way they came. No more questions. No pushing, no scathing remarks, no disappointment. Nothing. Just a seemingly heartfelt admission of enjoying their time together and a cheerful goodbye. Weird.

Branch shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he opens the hatch and pushes his supplies in first. It's perfect timing, really, as the first roll of thunder rings out just after he hops down into the bunker entrance. He makes sure to fasten all the locks behind him. He hasn't perfected the tech to open and close the hatch at the push of a button so all the locks were manual for the time being. He was almost there, though, he could feel the breakthrough on the horizon. He can hear the rain start to drizzle down as he drags the wood over the elevator platform and it's a soothing sound. He'd probably still be walking back to the bunker if it wasn't for Boom, weighed down by everything they'd collected. Huh. He doesn't give it too much thought as he pushes down the elevator lever, hoping that the thing will work this time and he won't have to haul the wood down the stairs. It's only when the elevator gets stuck halfway down that he realizes Boom never even asked for his name.

#{ isolationist } #| Game Plans | #trolls branch #trolls boom #trolls kismet #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #hurt/comfort #pre-canon #found family #oneshot #trolls fanfic #Branch is like 15-16 in this #He's been alone for a while but there's still some lingering hope leftover in him #{ More Than a Band }

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Branch storms into Poppy's pod and immediately slams their drinks down onto the nearest table. During the walk over from the market the anxiety and dread had ample time to morph into a familiar anger. Poppy hurries in after him, her face twisted with concern that only succeeds in fueling his growing rage. "How could I have been so stupid?" He seethes, turning away from Poppy and raking his hands through his hair. He felt like an idiot being so upset over something he'd already figured was inevitable. What right did he have to feel betrayed? They'd made their plans clear and what? Did he really expect that a stupid little song and dance would be enough to change that? He scoffs and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes in a poor attempt to stave off the tears beginning to pool.

"Hey, hey," Poppy soothes, scampering over and wrapping her hands gently around his wrists. "You're not stupid, Branch," She insists firmly as she carefully pries his hands from his face. She ducks down to catch his eye, refusing to let him look away, and it draws a pitiful little laugh from him. She smiles but it falls just as quickly, "What's going on?"

"Nothing, it's fine. I'm just overreacting." Branch dismisses easily, tugging his arms away and turning away from her again. The anger is already sizzling out in his chest, a firework that's already fading away leaving nothing but a smoky imprint in its wake. He wishes he could hold onto it. He knows this anger like a childhood friend and it doesn't hollow him out and leave him hurting the same way the anxiety and grief do.

Poppy circles around him back into his line of sight with a crease between her eyebrows that speaks to her worry and mounting frustration. "You can talk to me, remember?" She holds out her hand this time, palm up. It's an invitation she's urging him to take and he can't find it in himself to deny her. He slots his hand easily into hers and it's like they're made to hold each other. She's right here in front of him trying to get him to open up and yet somehow he can't shake the feeling that he's all on his own. Her face softens and the crease between her brows evens out, it's one less weight on his shoulders. "Come on, Branch. I'm here for you."

Branch sighs, clutching her hand tightly as a small bit of the fight physically bleeds out of him. "I know," he murmurs, "I do. It's just still new." He wants to try. The few times he's been able to let himself be vulnerable with Poppy have made him more at ease than he ever thought possible but when the opportunity arises he always feels more like a cornered animal. There's something raw and terrifying about talking to people about himself and even though Poppy's proven herself time and time again it's still one of the most difficult things to do.

"That's okay," Poppy assures easily, her mood lifting as it becomes clear to her that Branch isn't pushing her away again. A supportive smile spreads across her face as she tugs him toward the pink couch in the center of the room. "It's okay to struggle, as long as you know that you can talk to me about things if you need to." She sits down on the couch and nods for him to settle down beside her. Branch doesn't even give it a second thought before he lowers himself down onto the fluffy cushions, sitting so close that their knees touch. It makes his skin itch at first but it calms into a soothing warmth that he very nearly presses into. Poppy visibly hesitates and he squeezes her hand in silent reassurance. "It feels like you really need to talk about this." She says with a sad smile.

Branch hums, his free hand fidgeting with the hem of his vest. He does, admittedly, need to talk about it but the idea makes his stomach churn. Some things are easier to talk about than others but the permanent chill of loneliness burrowed into his bones isn't really a topic he likes to bring up. Thinking about it only makes it more pronounced and he's so used to having no one to talk to that it's easiest to just let it go unacknowledged. It seems like his brothers storming back into his life only to flee just as quickly has reopened old scars. It doesn't feel as simple as pushing it down and letting it fester when Poppy is right there looking at him imploringly with her kind eyes.

"I guess," Branch starts and pauses, closing his eyes with a frustrated sigh. He needs to brace himself. It feels like he's stripping himself of his defenses and it makes him want to snap and run off before he can reveal his wounds. He carefully extracts himself from Poppy, pulling his hand back and scooting a few inches away in one easy motion. She makes a soft noise of protest but doesn't say a word and he's grateful for that. His skin is buzzing with something too akin to fear and her touch had started to burn. Branch sucks in a long, steady breath and exhales slowly, "I guess I was just really hoping they'd stay." He finally admits with a self-deprecating chuckle, opening his eyes to stare at Poppy's little yellow coffee table. Everything in her pod is so bright and cheerful just like her and it makes him feel so pitifully out of place. He doesn't look up at her, a part of him that's small and young and lost is so terrified of what story her expression will tell, "I know that's kind of stupid. I mean, they literally told me to my face that once Floyd was alright they'd all go back to their lives. And they should! Right? They have their own lives that they've built and it'd be completely ridiculous to think that they'd throw that away." Especially not for me. 

Branch can easily imagine the pitying expression that must be on Poppy's face. It wouldn't be the first time she's worn it when looking at him. She used to look at him like that when he was gray and she couldn't comprehend that he didn't enjoy parties. He always despised when she looked at him like that and he doesn't know what it'd do to him if he saw it now. He hunches over, resting his paws in his lap and tugging anxiously at his fingers. "I don't know what I expected, I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop all week. I guess I just-- I wasn't ready for them to make plans to keep talking after everything. I figured that none of us would ever talk again not that… not that they just wouldn't talk to me." Branch doesn't know why he expected them to care. They never have before. Maybe Poppy's optimism has rubbed off on him and now it's coming back to haunt him.

Branch resists the urge to curl up on the couch. He doesn't need to paint an even more pathetic picture for Poppy but the desire to make himself small and hide away is unfurling in his chest begging him to flee. A pink paw creeps into his line of sight, very intentionally making itself noticeable while raising to softly cup his chin and tilt his face up. Poppy's face isn't painted with pity or disgust but instead with compassion and sorrow. It steals Branch's breath away.

"Now you listen to me," Poppy shifts to face him, reaching out her other hand to rest warmly on top of his fidgeting fingers. "You are a brilliant, kind, and incredibly talented troll. I don't know what's going on with your brothers," She admits apologetically, offering a bittersweet smile while she moves her hand up to his cheek and brushes her thumb lovingly along his cheekbone. "But no matter what they'd be the ones missing out if they didn't come back to visit you. They'd lose one of the most loyal, dedicated, and intelligent trolls I have ever met and if they can't see that then, well, then you're better off without them, okay?"

Branch can't help but look at her like she's just made the stars just for him. He presses his face into her paw and sighs, allowing the anxiety to fade as he exhales. "Thank you," He murmurs, untangling his hands from under hers so he can circle his fingers around her wrist. His fingers tighten as he tries to blink away the next flood of tears. His breath hitches and he fights fruitlessly against the wave of emotions demanding to be acknowledged. "I wish I was worth sticking around for." He confesses softly, it's broken and vulnerable and makes his heart pound frantically against his ribs.

"You are," Poppy insists urgently, bringing up her other paw to cup his face in her hands. She tilts his head up until he makes eye contact and he's startled by the fierceness that's bloomed on her face. "You are. I will always be here for you, Branchifer, do you understand me? I'll follow you anywhere." She leans forward and presses a loving kiss to the tip of his nose, pressing their foreheads together firmly. He's very aware of every place her skin touches his. There's a thrum of fire beneath every point of contact but for once his skin doesn't itch in protest. Her warmth chases away the icy fear and loneliness curled around his veins and instead fills him to the brim with a love and contentment he doesn't think he's ever felt before.

Branch half-laughs, half-sobs and nuzzles Poppy's cheek, "You already have," he reminds her around the growing lump in his throat.

Poppy giggles and presses another kiss to his eye, silently thanking him for this moment of vulnerability. It's a small, easily overlooked gesture but to Branch it speaks volumes. It says It's okay and I'm here and I love you and it only stokes the fire she's planted in him. "I learned from the best." She grins, using her thumbs to wipe away the tears smeared beneath his eyes.

Branch shuffles closer and leans hesitantly into Poppy's side, letting out an amused hum when her arms immediately shift to wrap him up in her embrace. He leans his head against her shoulder, still feeling exposed and raw but loved regardless, and murmurs "I love you."

Poppy tenses minutely beneath him but immediately melts, arms squeezing him a bit tighter and she curls as tightly around him as she can, "I love you too." She promises into his hair. They don't say it too often but the sentiment always rings true. His turmoil has done a great job of draining all of his energy and he grumbles bitterly about the familiar exhaustion while Poppy giggles fondly. He feels happy despite everything, cradled against Poppy's chest like he's something precious, and despite the remnants of dread and sorrow sitting heavy in his gut he knows that she'll be there to help him back up again. She always is.

#| game plans | #{ isolationist } #{ sunshine } #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls poppy #trolls branch #broppy #trolls broppy #trolls #trolls fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #branch and poppy #branch angst

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Floyd was curled up in bed cuddled into his lilac sweater, sat up against the headboard wrapped in a cozy pink quilt. This sweater was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Poppy's gifts were always well-made and soft to the touch but one of these days Floyd was going to insist she stop giving him things. For the moment, however, he was more than content to swaddle himself in the small comforts. He's been holed up in his room most of the day, excluding the one time he left to go make himself a cup of tea, but it's not a bad day by any means. He feels great, all things considered, with only a nearly imperceptible weakness in his limbs and a vague chill burrowed into his bones. It's a good day to be nestled into his blankets with a nice book.

A firm knock at his door gets his attention and a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall tells him it's half past noon. Oh, he's been holed up in here much longer than he'd thought. He puts his book aside and climbs out of bed, allowing himself a few extra seconds to stretch, and goes to open the door. John Dory is on the other side, his usual self-satisfied grin nowhere to be seen and a worry in his eyes that immediately puts Floyd on edge. "BroZone meeting," John says it so seriously that Floyd can't even find it in himself to roll his eyes at the phrasing.

"What's going on?" Floyd doesn't wait to ask as he follows John out into the bunker. It's weird to see his eldest brother so noticeably thrown off. John Dory wasn't one to wear his more uncomfortable emotions on his face where the world could see them.

John Dory doesn't answer, instead ushering Floyd over to the elevator. "The others are already in the kitchen," He half-explains, pulling Floyd up onto the platform and pushing up the lever at the same time. "It's Branch." That's all it takes to make Floyd's anxiety skyrocket. Branch? Branch was pretty reserved and he's been a little tense the past few days but he seemed okay. Did something terrible happen? Is he okay? Branch was so independent. What could have happened that John Dory called them all together with such grave intensity? John Dory was dramatic but it's never caused unwarranted worry before.

Floyd fidgets with his paws while they silently ride the elevator up, brows furrowed in thought while he stews in the worry rising in his chest. He clearly wasn't as in tune with Branch as he thought he was despite the one-on-one time they spent together most mornings. The elevator comes to a stop and Floyd is the first one off the platform. He moves swiftly past John Dory and rushes into the kitchen to find his other brothers, excluding Branch, already sitting around the kitchen table with matching expressions of concern on their faces. Great. "Do any of you have any idea what's going on?"

"No," Bruce shakes his head, "John just showed up all out of sorts so we figured it was serious." Clay nods along, gesturing to Bruce in a show of agreement.

"Because it is serious," John Dory insists as he steps into the kitchen after Floyd, circling around to stand at the table. "There's something wrong with Bitty B." He swears. Floyd is hoping that this is another game of the Troll who cried Bergen. John could blow things out of proportion sometimes and Floyd would prefer that to something being actually wrong. "He nearly bit my head off thirty minutes ago." Oh, okay. Maybe this actually wasn't so bad.

"I think before we go overboard here you should tell us what you did." Bruce cuts in, watching John warily. No one was willing to outright dismiss their eldest brother but it was hard not to take this with a grain of salt. Branch was snappy. He didn't like to be pushed and his boundaries weren't all out there yet so it was easy for one of them to overstep, John Dory especially. John was never one to stop his pestering, even when there were clear signs that he was pushing too hard.

"Nothing!" John throws his hands into the air and his tone turns exasperated. Floyd rolls his eyes fondly and crosses his arms, silently urging John Dory to continue. "He came home with this cute little picnic packed up and I asked him if it was for Poppy." Floyd waits for more but it becomes clear that there wasn't anything else John Dory had to add.

"That's it?" Clay presses in disbelief.

"That's it!" John nods quickly, leaning against one of the chairs and gesticulating with his gloved hand, "He looked at me and I swear he was about to break into tears right there. I tried to ask him what was wrong and he snapped at me to leave him the hell alone." He looks at them expectantly, eyebrows raised while he waits for them to admit defeat.

"That… sounds rough, actually." Clay is the first to break, the concerned crease between his brows returning with a vengeance. "Did you get anything out of him?" John offers a dejected shake of his head and they all share a collective sigh. Of course not. It was wishful thinking to assume that Branch would willingly open himself up to them, let alone when he was clearly already in distress.

"I doubt he's gonna wanna talk about it guys," Floyd reminds them softly, smiling sadly when they all turn to look at him. "He's not really open on a good day and I don't think forcing him to talk about whatever's going on is gonna make it better." It's not like the rest of them were getting together to share their feelings or anything but sentimental conversations sparked up naturally between the four older brothers. Branch seemed to actively avoid them and usually fled when things got too emotional for him. They've all had their moments with their youngest sibling, sure, but it was also obvious to all of them that Branch had been uncomfortable. Floyd doubts that whatever this is about is something Branch will want to share during a cuddle pile on the couch.

"Yeah, but haven't you noticed how tense he is all the time?" John Dory retorts. Honestly, out of all of them, Floyd half-expected John to be the least aware of Branch. Not in a particularly bad way, no, but the teal troll wasn't known for being the most observant when they were kids. It was hard to remember that maybe the last twenty years changed them all a lot more than Floyd initially thought. "Clearly whatever's going on with him isn't getting better on its own and we can't just sit here and wait for him to break down."

"Of course not," Bruce assures readily. He has a thoughtful expression on his face and Floyd really hopes that whatever he's thinking could help them figure out what to do. "Floyd is right, though, we can't pry it out of him. We'll only make it worse if we do that." They share a few more silent looks around the table and a familiar feeling of helplessness is starting to stir in Floyd. He can't help but remember the little blue trolling that he could pick up and settle on his lap. Back then Branch was so easy to cheer up, all it took was a quick little song or a fun story to distract the baby from his woes. Now Floyd doesn't even know where to start. He doesn't know what Branch has been through or how to comfort him. He doesn't even know how to approach it if Branch is having a rough time.

"I think he'd more likely shut down than open up if we try to force it out of him," Clay sighs, folding his arms on top of the table. They all murmur their agreement. If it were any other situation Floyd would be amused at the sight of them all huddled up around the kitchen trying to figure out what made their baby brother cry. The horrifying thought is that he can't imagine what could make Branch cry. Branch was a tough cookie but John Dory was right, Branch has been on edge from the moment they stepped foot in his bunker. There were times when the tension let up and Branch enjoyed himself but there was always wariness in his eyes. Floyd had really hoped that it would ease up on its own as they all got used to being around each other again. He's saddened to see that apparently it's only built up until Branch couldn't carry it anymore. It needed to be addressed, that was certain, but they were all stumped on how to go about it. "We need a plan. At least an outline on how to start." Floyd was really glad to have more than one plan-oriented brother right now. It feels wrong to conspire against Branch like this but it feels worse to just let his little brother keep hurting the way he clearly has been.

"I think the best approach is to test the waters first," Floyd steps further into the room, finally pulling out a chair and taking a seat at the table, "We need to make sure that he's receptive before we move forward with whatever we're gonna do." His brothers nod but John Dory looks a little unsure.

"Are we sure he'll ever be receptive?" John Dory brings up a painfully good point, looking between his brothers with earnest uncertainty. It's clear that John's desire to push comes from a place of real concern but that didn't mean it couldn't cause problems. It was important to stop him in his tracks before he got too far. Pushing Branch only ever led to the divide between them growing.

Bruce clears his throat, looking sorrowful when he speaks, "I think there's a decent chance that he won't talk to us." Floyd frowns, averting his gaze at the reminder. It was a fair thought, really. What right did they have to assume that they could just pop back into Branch's life and be part of his support system? The only person Floyd had ever seen Branch be actually vulnerable with was Poppy and that was only a few brief glimpses of soft moments meant for just the two of them.

"If push comes to shove we might just need to recruit Poppy and hope she can get it out of him." Floyd agrees with a sigh. His eyes are a little misty at the thought of being so useless when it comes to helping the people closest to him but he knows that he couldn't just insert himself back into Branch's life like that. If what he needs to do is rat his brother out to his girlfriend then that'll have to be enough.

"Well--" John cuts himself off and his ears perk. Floyd frowns and shares a confused look with Clay before he tries to listen for whatever caught John Dory's attention. For a moment there's nothing and he opens his mouth to ask what the oldest had heard but then he hears it. Footsteps. They're carefully tiptoeing up the stairs toward the kitchen and there was only one troll they could belong to. Floyd looks to Bruce and then Clay but his siblings look just as startled as he is. Obviously Branch hadn't heard them, right? There was no way he would be coming up here if he heard them talking about him, right?

The footsteps are only getting closer the more they sit in silence and Floyd gestures in quiet panic to the back hallway. What are we gonna say? He tries to convey in his sharp movements. They hadn't gotten anywhere besides acknowledging that Branch would want nothing to do with this conversation but if Branch had been on the verge of tears only a mere hour ago it would probably be hard to ignore.

John Dory blinks and gestures to himself, the how am I supposed to know? is easy to pick up.

Clay jerks his head towards the back hallway in obvious warning that Branch is nearly there and tries to lean casually against the table so it looks like they haven't been panicking over the dumbest thing. They all scramble to follow Clay's lead and only just manage to get themselves settled before Branch appears around the corner. Their youngest brother stops in his tracks the second he notices that the kitchen is more occupied than he thought. Floyd watches as a flurry of emotions flits across Branch's face; anger, yearning, fear--

"Hey B," John Dory greets with an awkward wave that cuts through the silence.

"Hey," Branch grunts, moving further into the room. He very intentionally keeps his eyes straight ahead as he steps over to the counter and reaches up to get a cup from the cabinets.

Floyd shares a determined look with Bruce before he turns his attention back to Branch. "Are you doing okay?" He decides that the best approach would be a direct one. Beating around the bush with Branch only ever leads to confusion or irritation and Floyd doesn't want to risk blowing anything out of proportion. He just wants to help.

Branch only offers a noncommittal hum and slams his cup down harder than necessary. Floyd can see his grip is so tight his hand is shaking. Not a great start but he hasn't exactly shut them down yet either. They should proceed with caution but Floyd would try to keep an eye on Branch's reactions so he can help calm things down if he needed to. He wants to avoid causing any more problems and he doesn't want to hurt Branch in their quest to figure him out.

"It's just that you've been pretty tense recently," Bruce pipes up, testing the waters with more awareness and care than Floyd would have expected from him. Being a parent had really changed his brother in a lot of really amazing ways. It's nice to see someone else in their family is experienced in the gentle approach now. "We were wondering if we could do anything to help."

Branch keeps his back towards them but the kitchen is small and Floyd is sitting at the end of the table. He can see the side of Branch's face even if it's still mostly obscured and he can see how his little brother clenches his jaw and takes a calming breath. "I'm fine," Branch says after a long stretch of silence. His voice is toneless and strained and Floyd can't help but cringe.

"It's just that you were pretty pissed earlier," John starts. He looks like he's about to make a joke but he thinks better of it. Instead, he sighs and straightens out his goggles absentmindedly. "We're just worried. It doesn't seem like you're doing alright." That was surprisingly heartfelt coming from John Dory. He's sincere and quiet and the worry seeps into his words.

Branch sighs and braces his hands against the counter, hanging his head and leaving his cup forgotten beside him. Floyd's gut twists and his heart thumps anxiously in his chest. He's seen Branch uneasy and uncomfortable and upset, he's seen Branch happy and shy and lovesick, but he's never seen Branch look so genuinely defeated. "Branch?" He presses softly, "Are you okay?" He echoes his earlier question and watches as Branch deflates.

__

Branch doesn't know how to handle this. He didn't really expect John Dory to follow up and he definitely hadn't been prepared for all of his brothers to confront him together. He hates listening to them like this. They sound so worried and he has no idea what to do. The mask slipped and he lost his temper and it seems like it wasn't something he could just sweep under the rug this time. He holds the counter in an iron grip and allows his weight to lean further and further into the edge. How the hell is he supposed to answer that? How does he explain to his brothers that he can't remember the last time he could genuinely and sincerely say he was doing great and that okay felt like a few and far between? "Does it matter?" He mumbles in lieu of a real answer.

There's a sharp inhale behind him and Branch flinches at the sound. Great. He hadn't meant to sound so dismissive but he couldn't take it back now. He's just so tired. He's exhausted, both from the nightmares keeping him up night after night and from the turmoil that seemed to constantly rage inside of him. He feels like he's just been coasting through the days, letting everything build up until it all inevitably came to a head. He was a fool to think he could escape the consequences. He knew better than to think it would all just even out and go away but he had hoped. He let himself and hope and look where it got him. How stupid could he be?

"Of course it matters, bro," Clay soothes quietly. There's a tension in the air that was only getting thicker and Branch wonders if the others could feel it too. "We wanna know if you're alright."

"Do you?" Branch asks bitterly. He hadn't meant to say it but it feels useless to hold his tongue now. He's kept it all inside for too long and it's drained him completely. He's hollow in a way that's terrifyingly familiar, a frightening reminder of how he lived for almost two decades of his life, and he's so sick of it. He wants to feel okay again and he can't keep burying it all deep down. It's twisting him up inside and leaving him with a painfully short fuse and he can't do this anymore.

"Of course we do!" John Dory sounds offended at the mere thought that Branch could possibly think otherwise and that's not fair. He doesn't get to be hurt that Branch doubts them. He has no right. Branch grits his teeth and his eyes are burning again and damn it he's getting worked up again--

"Since when!" Branch snaps, ripping his hands away from the counter and whirling around to glare daggers at his family. His family. The family who left him and came back only because they needed him. Would they have ever come back at all if he wasn't a necessary part of helping Floyd? "You all left. You left me alone and I had no one for most of my life!" He's screaming now. He's screaming and his eyes are burning but he doesn't think he has any energy left to care. "Grandma died and I spent twenty years being the outcast of the village and then you all just come back and assume that things are okay? That I'm okay?" Branch slams his hands against his chest in a wild gesture to himself and lets out a desperate, almost hysterical laugh. His brothers are staring at him with wide-eyed expressions of shock and he should really stop before he does something that will be irreparable but now that he's started he doesn't think he can stop. "No, I'm not okay! I haven't been okay in a long time! I'm trying really, really hard to hold myself together but sometimes I'm so pissed at all of you I don't know what to do with myself. Sometimes I can't even fucking look at any of you because it hurts. You can't expect me to think that all of you care about how I feel when all of you walked out on me and didn't even look back!"

Branch realizes that he should calm down. His chest is heaving with each breath but he's never let any of this out before and the release is addicting. He's fruitlessly blinking back the tears quickly filling his eyes and beneath all the anger and pain he feels guilt for putting those devastated expressions on his brothers' faces but he can't seem to reel himself in. "Did I ever even matter to any of you?" He asks, scrubbing a frantic hand across his face to wipe away the tears when they start to fall. "The only person who even said goodbye was Floyd, the only person who cared was Floyd. If you didn't need me would you have ever come back?" The guilty look on John's face is enough of an answer for him.

He runs his hands through his hair and grits his teeth against the sob bubbling up in his throat. He's realizing that maybe he didn't really put himself together as well as he thought back in his room and he might be having a breakdown in front of his brothers. The realization isn't enough to stop it from happening. He's already lost himself to the panic and desperation curling up beneath his ribs. His hands were shaking and his chest was getting tight but he knew from experience that he couldn't stop this now that it's started and he could already feel the humiliation starting to bloom on top of it all.

"Branch," Floyd gets his attention. Somewhere along the line the other troll had stood up from the table and took a few cautious steps closer, hands held up to show he meant no harm. "Breathe, buddy, come on." Branch instinctively tries to take a breath at the gentle coaxing but the air gets caught in his throat. Floyd only offers an encouraging smile and nods for him to try again.

Branch stutters through the first few breaths, leaning heavily back against the counter and wrapping his arms tightly around himself in a pathetic attempt to physically hold himself together. Floyd doesn't push him and the others watch on in curious silence. They look at Branch with such sad eyes and Branch wants to be angry but he can't. He's too tired to be angry anymore. He's burnt out. He breathes with Floyd's kind encouragements urging him to keep going and slowly but surely he calms down enough to force the stiffness out of his legs and drop unceremoniously to the floor. He ignores the startled cries around him and tugs his legs up to his chest, burying his face into his knees to hide the tears shamefully coating his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he breathes. He can't believe he just yelled at them like that. He'll be lucky if they even want to stay with him after this.

"Hey, Branch, look at me," Branch lifts his head to see Bruce kneeling on the floor beside him. Bruce still gave him plenty of room, staying a few feet away to avoid crowding him, and Branch felt a brief spark of gratitude at the consideration, "I think you had the right to blow up at us. You've been holding all that in for a while, huh? And none of us ever really brought it up. I guess we all just assumed that it was water under the bridge." Bruce has the decency to look sheepish at the admission. Branch huffs and tries again to wipe away his tears. It's a losing battle, the tears are still falling, but he feels like he has to try all the same.

"I think we're the ones who should be sorry," Clay sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't think any of us wanted to admit that we messed up. It wasn't cool of us to leave you behind and then just assume that everything would be fine. I'm sorry, Branch." The apology is unexpected. Branch thinks that maybe it shouldn't be but it still comes as a shock to him.

"You already apologized," Branch reminds him.

"I'm not apologizing for missing out on you growing up," Clay disagrees, shaking his head and offering a sad smile, "I'm apologizing because I walked out and because I never came back. It hurt you a lot, the least I can do is acknowledge that." Oh. A lump forms in Branch's throat and the tears pick up speed. He feels ridiculous and childish curled up on the kitchen floor with his brothers huddled around him offering comforting words but he can't deny that a part of him feels hopeful too. Hope was a terrifying, disappointing thing but it led him to Poppy so maybe… maybe he could try to see where this goes too.

"Thanks," Branch sniffs, wrapping his arms around his legs and drawing them closer to his chest.

"The least any of us could do is acknowledge it," John Dory steps away from the table and comes around to kneel beside Bruce, "I'm sorry I left, Branch. I could give you a million different reasons but at the end of the day none of them really matter, do they?" John Dory offers a bitter laugh, meeting Branch's gaze with sad eyes, "It wasn't fair to you and I never should've just walked back into your life like it never happened. I'm glad Poppy convinced you to come along but I should've said this all then. That's my fault, Bitty B. After everything we put you through you have every right to be angry." That's the most mature John has ever been, Branch thinks. At least with him. No condescension, no punchline. Just a sincere and heartfelt apology.

"I think that's the most serious I've ever heard you," Floyd playfully teases from Branch's other side and Branch notices that Floyd lowered himself down to the floor too. Clay is already walking over to sit beside the pink-haired troll, completing their messy half-circle.

"Shut up," John Dory laughs, picking up a loose rock tucked under the door of a cabinet and flicking it over at Floyd.

"Seriously, though, Branch. You aren't the one who should apologize. It's us." Floyd assures warmly, the same sad smile on his face but it's fond now too. "I'm sorry that you felt you had to keep this in. I know we haven't been the best brothers in the world but you can talk to us. You've been there for us," Floyd looks around at the others and Branch watches as they all nod in eager agreement. "Let us be there for you, okay?"

Branch frowns. As good as that sounds he doesn't like vulnerability. He's very intentionally kept to himself for a long, long time and the idea of relying on someone else was still very new to him. He's learned that nothing is certain in life and that everything good could be gone in a moment. The only thing he could rely on was himself. He knows this. But Poppy's taught him that even though good things might be fleeting they're also wonderful. Poppy came into his life and brought with her a happiness that's evaded him since he was just a trolling and now he can't imagine living without her. What would he be denying himself if he decided that this was too good to be true? He missed his brothers so much all these years and they're here now because they care about him more than he ever could have hoped for. "Okay." Branch decides before he can overthink it. He wants this so badly he can allow himself to take the risk. If everything collapses and it all fails he knows that at least he'll have Poppy with him in the aftermath.

His brothers sag a little with relief. Bruce claps a hand on John Dory's shoulder and Clay slings a celebratory arm around Floyd's shoulders. Floyd's expression softens, "Thanks, Branch. I know that this sucks but we won't let you down." Branch huffs an amused breath but lets a shaky grin form in response.

"So what's been going on?" John Dory asks as he shifts into a more comfortable position, crossing his legs beneath him and giving Branch his full attention. It's equally overwhelming and appreciated.

"Nothing," Floyd and Bruce give him matching stern looks. Branch rolls his eyes but concedes, "Really, it's nothing. I've just been having nightmares again recently and it's made me more on edge than usual." He pointedly ignores Clay mouthing again? at their brothers and focuses his eyes instead on the dirt floor. He sighs and buries his face into his knees again, "I'm supposed to be normal now."

"What do you mean?" Bruce asks with genuine confusion. Branch can't help but offer a resentful snort. Right, like Branch was the epitome of normal when it came to trolls. "You only need to be you, Branch." That catches Branch off guard and he peeks over at Bruce with a doubtful expression. Bruce only smiles, "I'm serious. I remember what you said to Viva back at that golf course you know. I'm sure you've spent a lot of time in this bunker and I know that Poppy of yours invites you to all sorts of things but no one wants you to be something you're not. You don't need to be like everyone else. We don't want you to be like everyone else." That's an angle that Branch hadn't really considered before. Branch often entertained the idea that Poppy invited him to so many parties and events because she wanted him to be more like a regular pop troll. Despite the fact that Poppy's always respected his boundaries he has an underlying fear that she wants him to change but she's even walked him home before when a party proved to be too much for him.

"Oh." Branch murmurs, still uncertain.

"You're weird," John cuts in and startles at the resulting incredulous shouts of his name. He raises his hands in surrender, "But that's what makes you you. We wouldn't love you if you weren't you, kid."

"Not a kid," Branch grumbles more on instinct than anything. He sighs, reaching up and tangling his hands in his hair, "But trolls are supposed to be fun. I'm not fun. I don't like big parties and too many sweets make me sick and I prioritize safety over entertainment--"

"You don't need to be fun all the time," Clay cuts him off before Branch can start spiraling again. Branch huffs and Clay shrugs apologetically. "You don't have to have fun all the time. Everybody needs their downtime and if you need more quiet time than the next troll that doesn't make you defective." Clay reaches out, telegraphing his movements carefully so Branch has plenty of time to pull away, and carefully untangles Branch's paws from his hair. "Besides, you're plenty of fun. I have a great time whenever we talk about the layout of this place and your organization system."

"Nerds," Bruce coughs into his fist.

"The point is," Floyd rolls his eyes but he looks happy. "Fun or no fun, quiet or loud, there's nothing wrong with being different. No one should ever force you to be someone you're not, and we don't want you to be anyone else." Branch feels a hesitant burst of warmth struggling to form beneath the uncertainty wriggling in his gut. The hope is growing with each passing moment but he's still scared of what it could lead to. He's been disappointed so many times.

Branch shakes his head, "It's not enough." He disagrees. There were plenty of trolls in the village that were still on the fence about him. He's seen the weird looks he gets sometimes when he's in town and the disapproval when he's with Poppy. No one is vocal about it and most of the village has been open to him being a part of the community but that doesn't erase the years of him being the outcast party-pooper. "I'm not enough."

"You're perfect." Branch's head snaps up and he stares at John Dory in disbelief. John Dory said it so vehemently and his face his set in a stern expression. The small, wounded part of Branch that always believed that he was the reason the band disbanded is squirming beneath his skin.

"What?" Branch breathes, laughing awkwardly at what he assumed had to be a joke.

"You're perfect, Branch. Never, and I mean never, imply that you're anything less than that again." John seems almost angry but Branch has to be imagining that. He looks genuinely upset at the idea that Branch could possibly think so little of himself but that seems unlikely. "Branch you have two seconds to tell me no before I touch you," Oh, what? That's a weird sentence-- but suddenly his face is cupped in John Dory's hands and his focus zeroes in on his brother. "You are amazing. You're a little rough around the edges but so is everyone. This past month you've been nothing but accommodating to us. You dug us out whole rooms in your home just because you wanted us to stay with you, that's crazy. You're dedicated, brilliant, and even kind under all that sharp wit. You are way more than just enough, little brother, you're perfect." Branch blinks stupidly up at John Dory and a few more tears tumble down his cheeks. John smiles sadly as he brushes them away with a few gentle strokes of his thumbs.

Branch sniffs pitifully and pulls away, scrubbing at his eyes with a startled laugh, "Jeez, isn't Floyd supposed to be the sensitive one?" He tries to joke but it comes out strained and teary. They all chuckle anyway and Branch is grateful that they're giving him a moment to try and compose himself. "I'm still sorry I yelled." He admits after a few beats.

"Psh, it's fine," Bruce waves him off easily. "You clearly needed to get some stuff out. What else is family for?" He assures lightheartedly.

"I know it's not hug time, but can we hug you?" Floyd asks. Branch moves to say no on instinct but Floyd is looking at him with pleading eyes and Branch honestly thinks that he could use one too.

"Fine, I guess," He grumbles and Floyd doesn't hesitate to swoop in and gather him up. The others don't take long to follow his lead. It's only a few seconds before Branch finds himself at the center of a cuddle pile. There are elbows jabbed into his side and someone's hair is tickling his nose but somehow he can't remember the last time he felt so safe and comfortable. "Thank you." He whispers into the bundle of warmth and support surrounding him.

"We'll always be here for you, okay?" Floyd says.

"Okay." Branch replies and finally lets the hope win.

#| Game Plans | #{ isolationist } #{ the leader } #{ the sensitive one } #{ the fun boy } #{ the heartthrob } #trolls branch #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #dreamworks trolls #trolls fanfic #trolls band together #brozone #trolls brozone #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #Thank you all for reading this story #It's really warmed my heart #I hope you like what I have to write next even a fraction as much as you've enjoyed Elapse #// panic attacks

[dulltoned]

Trickee is loving the sunny days. It's been pretty stormy this last month and while he enjoyed cozying down just as much as the next troll he really missed his morning walks through the village. He didn't really do rain so he's been stuck inside for the past few weeks. However, the sun always shines brightest after the darkest days and Trickee was basking in it. He's up earlier than a lot of the village, most trolls are still tuckered from their individual parties and get-togethers, and he's enjoying the quiet of the sunrise. The first few rays of sun are making the morning dew sparkle and he swears he can catch a few rainbows scattered about the market when he looks at just the right angle. This was worth going a little stir-crazy for.

He decides that he's going to take a few laps around the village before everyone else starts to filter out to begin their day. He doesn't really have much to do today so he has plenty of time to spare and it's really nice out. Maybe afterward he can go pick up something to eat when the stores start opening. Content with his plan Trickee allows himself to focus solely on his stroll, shoving his paws deep into his pants pockets and tilting his head up into the light of the rising sun. It's a bit cold out with the dawn's breeze but that only highlights the warmth of the sun's light and, wow, he's really missed this.

It doesn't take long for his peace to be interrupted though. It's maybe just a few minutes tops before he hears a round of laughter somewhere to his left. Only when he looks he doesn't see anyone. He frowns and glances around. Oh, they must be somewhere around the corner. He didn't think anyone else was out and about but now that his curiosity's been piqued he has to see who else could be awake at this hour. He takes a small detour to check behind the Cupcake Cafe, the nearest shop the noise could have possibly come from, and spots a small group of trolls a few yards away. He doesn't immediately recognize any of them but he can pick out a distinct purple hue amongst the group of three trolls. They're still laughing but now that Trickee is closer he can recognize that it's not a particularly kind sound.

"You should really be more careful, eh?" One of the trolls chuckles. It makes Trickee's stomach swoop uncomfortably but he can't quite place why. He's coming quickly to the realization that none of this is really settling right. "You've gone and made a mess of yourself, mate." The tone is sickly sweet and dripping with condescension that sends a shock of ice through Trickee's veins. The trolls with him snicker along so maybe it's some sort of inside joke between them and Trickee is just making a mountain out of a caterbus hill. He's content to turn away and make his leave but then someone scoffs and Trickee notices he can actually see a few splotches of gray between their legs. There were four trolls, not three.

"Classy, Creek," The troll on the ground sighs and Trickee steps further behind the cafe to get a better look. The fourth troll is splayed out on the ground, grimacing as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. There are shards of glass caught in the front of his leafy vest and globs of purple jam coating his chest and trousers. He tries to wipe it off and grimaces when he only succeeds in smearing the goo around. "Don't you have anything better to be doing right now?" He glares up at the purple troll and, from this, angle Trickee can see the satisfied grin on the purple troll's face. Creek, he presumes.

"Why, of course not," Creek coos like the gray troll is a child. "What better way to spend my time than helping out the village recluse, hm? Poppy would be overjoyed to hear you've made a friend." The words themselves are innocent enough, maybe a bit presumptuous, but it's the way that Creek says them that makes Trickee's skin crawl. He'd never heard a troll be so intentionally malicious before, not even when his aunt and uncle got into one of their tiffs and those had a tendency to get mean quick. Creek twists the words until they sound like insults, backhanded compliments crafted perfectly to tear at open wounds. If that's how it sounded to him? Trickee can't imagine how the gray troll feels.

"I don't have friends," The gray troll snarls, sneering up at Creek and flashing his sharp canines in a clear warning, but Creek only tisks mockingly at the obvious threat. "And I don't want them." The gray troll picks himself up off the floor and tries to shake the glass out of his vest with varying levels of success.

"Shame that," Creek tisks again, looking the gray troll over with blatant disdain. "Truly, we're all missing out." Creek reaches out and pats the gray troll's shoulder and, somehow, he manages to make it come across heavily patronizing. Trickee wonders with an ugly bitterness bubbling up in his chest if Creek knows how to move with any sort of sincerity. The gray troll smacks Creek's hand away with a growl but Creek just saunters away with his little followers scampering after him. It's disgusting and it makes Trickee's blood boil. Who the hell does that guy think he is? Who goes around harassing people just for the fun of it?

The gray troll lets out a dejected sigh and looks down at the remnants of whatever jar had shattered, running a stressed hand through his hair. All the fight looks like it's drained out of him the second that Creek guy disappeared. "Are you just gonna stand there or do you wanna take a shot too?" The gray troll huffs, dull eyes flicking up to look at Trickee. He doesn't know why it shocks him so much to be called out. It wasn't like he was hidden but Creek and his entourage hadn't even spared him a glance so the sudden acknowledgment startles him.

"Woah, no way, man," Trickee raises his hands, unable to keep the flash of annoyance from creeping into his voice. He wasn't just some asshole, he wasn't the kind of guy to just beat on someone for shits and giggles. Now that the gray troll's spoken to him though Trickee takes that as his sign to move forward, shooting a glare off in the direction Creek slithered away, "What's that guy's problem?"

The gray troll scoffs and rolls his eyes, shrugging off his vest and crouching down to start gently plucking the shards out of the grass. He lays his vest over one hand and carefully places the shards onto the cloth, very meticulously placing each piece to avoid hurting the clothing. He doesn't respond but Trickee still joins him on the ground to help him clean up the mess.

Those dull eyes glance up at him again and they're swimming with unrestrained suspicion. It makes Trickee's stomach churn to see such raw distrust on someone's face. "What're you doing?"

Trickee's brows furrow, "Helping?" Obviously. He wasn't just gonna leave this poor guy after everything he just saw and awkwardly standing over him wasn't an option.

The gray troll huffs, "Why?" He presses, even going as far as to pull his paws closer to himself in an attempt to keep Trickee from placing the shards held in his fingers gently alongside the other pieces.

"You look like you could use it." Trickee tries to sound gentle, keeping his expression soft, but his tone comes off more abrasive than he intended and the gray troll recoils defensively.

"Yeah, like you care about helping," The gray troll snaps, turning his attention back to the few pieces remaining on the ground and picking up the pace. His face is twisted in an angry scowl but Trickee doesn't know what he did wrong to put it there.

"I'm trying to help you now!" Trickee defends. He stands as the gray troll picks up the last few bits of glass and tries not to look too upset. He doesn't know if he's succeeding but even if the other troll was being a bit rude Trickee thinks he has every right to be wary after what Creek just did.

"You just watched," The gray troll hisses as he rises up to his full height. He wraps his vest up in a small bundle around the glass so he can safely carry it to wherever he was trying to go and aims a righteous glare in Trickee's direction. Trickee freezes, staring wide-eyed back at the troll across from him. "You aren't helping me. You feel bad for me but you didn't help." The gray troll grimaces and for a brief moment he looks more sad than angry. "Now leave me alone." He murmurs, sagging in defeat, and shoulders past Trickee.

Trickee just watches as he leaves and is only shaken from his shocked stupor when the gray troll disappears around a corner into the empty market. He blinks a few times, arms hanging lost at his sides, and a pinprick of guilt spawns heavy and cold beneath his ribs. He wants to disagree, wants to call after the troll and say it wasn't like that, but he realizes belatedly that he had just stood and watched while Creek very intentionally made that troll feel like he was lesser.

The morning suddenly didn't feel so beautiful.

Trickee really wishes he had any idea how to find that troll. He feels like it should be common knowledge where the only gray troll in the village lives just because it was such a rare trait but Trickee's spent the last three days trying to catch a glimpse of him and he's only found disappointment. He tried to ask around once, on the day after he caught Creek harassing the poor guy. The woman he questioned had looked at him like he'd grown a second head, murmuring a soft "Why would you want to find him?" She'd left quickly after that, going about her merry way like she didn't just say something horrible.

The guilt from that day has only grown and festered until a constant pit rested uneasily in his stomach. He felt dreadful and he at very least wanted to apologize. He could admit that he messed up, he hadn't even thought then to step in and stop what Creek was doing. He knows he couldn't fix that. Trickee's search for the gray troll was proving that the village didn't care for him. Some people at least seemed sympathetic but didn't give the guy much thought besides that. It felt needlessly cruel but Trickee was being forced to learn that maybe trolls weren't as inherently kind as he was raised to believe. Trickee wouldn't give up, though. They lived in the same village after all, he'd have to stumble across him in the market or something again at some point.

It's only because he's looking that he finds him.

Trickee's walking across the market late in the day, hunched over dejectedly with his hands shoved deep into his vest pockets. The sunset is painting the sky in hues of vibrant orange, pink, and violet and the strings of paper lanterns scattered about the marketplace are colorful spots around the stalls and in the tree tops. Usually Trickee would appreciate the beautiful moment but he's too upset to really soak it all in. He's starting to think that maybe he won't ever get the chance to right his wrong and it makes the guilt in his chest weigh harshly against his lungs.

It's while he's on his way out of the market, slipping past the busiest stalls and heading off towards his pod, that he spots something. Maybe it's because he's been so focused on gray, gray, gray that he sees it. Maybe it's because he's forced himself to be so hyperaware these past few days in his desperation to make amends. Maybe it was just plain ol' dumb luck. Either way, Trickee will always look back on this moment and be grateful.

It's a flash of something dull and a unique shade of green that he catches in the corner of his eye while he's passing a narrow alley between two stores. That alone is enough to stop him in his tracks. He backtracks quickly, grin splitting his face when he thinks that finally he's found him. He slips into the alleyway with a bounce in his step but stumbles to a stop when he fully comprehends the scene in front of him.

He's found the troll alright, but once again it's a sight that makes his stomach drop. The gray troll is splayed across the floor, awkwardly collapsed against one of the walls with a paw clasped over his nose. There's red smeared between his fingers and dripping steadily down onto his chest and stomach. Standing proudly in front of him is Creek. It's clear that Creek's never thrown a punch before, he's still shaking out his paw with a wince twisting his features while the gray troll is staring up at him in frozen surprise. Creek doesn't seem to mind the pain much if the satisfied glint in his eyes is any indicator.

"Ah, look what you've made me do," Creek sighs like he's disappointed and that same fury from a few days ago starts to burn wild in Trickee's veins. It's a disgusting parallel to what Trickee had walked in on before but unlike last time he's not going to stand by and do nothing.

"Hey!" He yells, stomping forward and pushing Creek away with all his might before the slimy bastard even has the chance to fully turn around. The gray troll's wide eyes turn to Trickee and somehow seem to widen just a fraction more when he recognizes him. Trickee offers him a confident grin, standing tall, before turning to Creek with a scowl. "What the hell is your problem?" He demands, stepping between the gray troll and Creek.

Creek, unfortunately, caught himself on the other wall and pushed himself up with ease. He brushes imaginary dust from his shoulders and turns to Trickee with an unimpressed expression, "What's wrong with me? You're the one going around pushing people, mate." Creek scoffs. It's like he can't see the evidence of his own violence crumpled on the floor behind Trickee.

"Ah, cut it with the good guy shit will you?" Trickee sniffs, tilting his head up to look down his nose at Creek and crossing his arms tightly over his chest. Maybe he could give Creek a taste of his own medicine. Trickee won't be talked down to, not by anyone but certainly not by this bastard. Creek looks briefly startled, all his better-than-you bullshit dropping for just a few moments when Trickee brushes away his attempts at schmoozing. It fills Trickee up with a sick satisfaction and if the amused huff from behind him is anything to go by the gray troll feels it too.

"I really don't think this is any of your business." Creek switches tactics swiftly. The transition is smooth and practiced and it makes Trickee's skin itch just hearing it. He wonders if anyone really falls for this or if he's the only one immune. "This is between me and him, yeah? Why don't you go about your day and leave us to it." The worst part is that Creek manages to make it sound reasonable. He doesn't raise his voice or even sound so much as irritated by Trickee's intervention. He's calm, collected, and has a soft smile on his face that implies nothing was going on besides maybe a private chat between two friends.

"If you think anyone is just gonna stand around and let you hit someone you wouldn't be standing in some dark alley," Trickee hisses, his rage boiling beneath the surface. The gray trolls shuffles a bit behind him and Trickee shoots a glance over his shoulder to make sure that he's okay. The guy has shifted from where he haphazardly fell and was instead kneeling tense on the grassy floor. The blood is smeared around from where it clearly pooled on his navel and he's carefully removed his vest to keep it clean, hand still pressed to his face in an attempt to staunch the flow. It doesn't seem too excessive, a bit gruesome, but it couldn't be more than a broken nose at least. He's looking between Trickee and Creek warily, not an ounce of trust or gratitude in his eyes, and Trickee feels sick seeing it. He'd wonder just who it was that hurt him so badly to strip him of any speck of optimism but one of the culprits is standing directly across from him. Trickee had already let it happen once. He didn't deserve the gray troll's trust but he would be damned if he couldn't earn it.

He turns back to Creek and finds that his easy-going expression has finally fallen away. Creek glares at Trickee with furious eyes swimming with irritation and Trickee sees then and there just who the real Creek is. "Listen, mate, no one's gonna mind if the colorless hermit gets banged up a bit. You don't even know his name so don't go around pretending like you care." Creek reaches out and forcefully pushes Trickee aside, not even sparing him a glance as he stumbles over his own feet. Trickee throws out his arms on instinct, wincing when the rough stone of the wall scratches at his skin and scraps away some of his fur, but his eyes don't leave Creek for even a second. Creek takes a step towards the gray troll huddled on the floor and Trickee watches in what feels like slow motion as the poor troll flinches, a sneer pulling at his lips and showing off blood-stained teeth like it would do anything to protect him from whatever blow Creek was aiming to throw this time.

Trickee swears his vision goes red and he shoves himself away from the wall with all his strength, using the momentum to add power to his swing. Creek may not know how to throw a punch but Trickee does. His fist connects with Creek's face and even though his knuckles smart at the contact he revels in it. Creek cries out, falling back and splaying out similarly to how the gray troll had initially been, a paw reaching up instinctively to hold his cheek. Creek gazes up at Trickee like he was the one in the wrong and Trickee glares back with a fiery anger that leaves his chest heaving. "This is over." He snaps, barely resisting the urge to growl like some wild animal. "I don't need to know his name to know that he doesn't deserve this and if you want to see how hard I can really hit you can go ahead and try to lay another finger on him."

Creek is speechless, anger and surprise battling for dominance on his face, and Trickee would find it funny if the mere sight of Creek didn't fill him with an unholy fury. "Go on," Trickee clenches his fists at his sides and grits his teeth, once again sliding between the gray troll and Creek, "Try it." Creek glares back, orange clashing with indigo. They're locked in a silent staring match for a few long moments but Creek inevitably glaces away first with a scoff. It was the smart choice, evidently Trickee would knock Creek flat on his ass if the purple troll tried to double down.

"Pathetic," Trickee sniffs, turning his back to Creek now that the bastard wasn't a threat. He crouches down in front of the gray troll and scans him over once again, feeling all the anger drain out of him at the sight of the poor guy. The troll looks at Trickee with such a confused expression as if it were a mystery why anyone would ever stand up for him. It makes him look young and Trickee comes to the startling realization that maybe he is. He had to be at least a year or two younger than Trickee now that he's really looking and Trickee himself was only fifteen. "Come on." Trickee stands and offers a hand. The troll doesn’t grab it and Trickee tries not to take it personally. Instead, the guy climbs to his feet, using the wall for support, and sends one last undecipherable look Creek's way before heading towards the alley's exit. Trickee sighs, tilting his head back and looking up at the sky. There was still a lingering guilt stirring up in him but he feels satisfied knowing that he didn't just watch. There's a pride that comes with doing what's right and taking action and even if the gray troll still wanted nothing to do with him he can at least bask in that.

Someone clears their throat and Trickee looks over to see the troll still standing in the alley looking back at him awkwardly. "Are you coming?" He asks, hand muffling the question. Trickee absolutely beams and hurries to catch up.

They leave through the back of the alley and head away from the crowds still cluttered around the marketplace. Trickee is happy to follow along, feeling a warmth bloom deep within him. The guilt is unraveling, dissipating in the rising joy. "I'm sorry about the other day," He says, keeping pace beside the gray troll and trying to figure out where they're going. They're getting further and further from anywhere in the village that Trickee recognizes but he's not afraid.

The troll shrugs, "Whatever," he finally pries his paw away from his face and Trickee winces at the sight. The whole lower half of his face is smeared in blood and his palm is completely coated. It all looks like it's already congealing, though, so at least it's stopped bleeding. The troll huffs a soft laugh and glances at Trickee with a barely there smile, "That bad, huh?"

Trickee smiles back hesitantly, "It's not great." He admits. He shakes his head and adverts his eyes, rolling back to the topic at hand. "Still, though, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let him mess with you like that." He's a bit ashamed that it hadn't even occurred to him to step in the first time around.

The other troll just shrugs again, clutching his vest tightly in his clean hand and resolutely keeping his eyes trained ahead of him, "You made up for it." He assures stiffly but not unkindly.

Trickee sighs, "Yeah, I guess." He turns his arms over, inspecting the little scratches running up along his forearms as they walk. There are a few specks of dirt caught in the wounds that he knows he should clean out. "Where are we going?" He asks as he looks around their surroundings, letting his arms drop back down to his sides. They've left the village now, leaving its borders behind them and stepping out into the lush foliage of the forest. It's beautiful, especially in the last remaining rays of the colorful sunset, but Trickee is pretty sure that there's nothing out here.

"My bunker." The troll replies, "I have a lot of supplies there." He looks pointedly down at Trickee's arms and the warmth burrowed in his lungs bursts. The gray troll was obviously distrusting and standoffish but his kindness lay in his actions.

Trickee's face melts and a soft smile slides easily across his face, "Thanks, man."

"Branch," The gray troll replies and Trickee immediately ducks out of habit. Except there's no branch there, in fact, they've reached a clearing with only a few scatterings of bushes and a large boulder pushes off to the side. Trickee stops in his tracks, brows furrowing as he watches the troll walk toward the rock without missing a beat. The troll crouches down by the rock and pulls back a hatch in the floor, looking up at Trickee with uncertain eyes. "My name is Branch."

Oh. Trickee didn't think he could feel so content, so honored, by the words and tentative trust of a stranger. "Cool," he laughs, rushing forward to meet Branch at his bunker door. He smiles as he crouches down and peeks in, turning to meet Branch's eyes, "Trickee." He introduces and holds out his paw.

#| game plans | #{ isolationist } #{ more than a band } #trolls #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls branch #trolls trickee #trolls kismet #trolls fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #branch angst #trolls creek #fuck you creek #// bullying #// blood #// gaslighting

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

It's been a few weeks now since they've settled down in Troll Village after the disaster that was Mount Rageous. John could admit to himself, and only himself, that he's been neatly knocked down a few pegs by his brothers since then. Branch has been especially ruthless but he supposes he hadn't really known where the baseline was before they'd had time to relax around each other these last couple weeks. Branch wasn't as receptive to John Dory's playful bickering as he initially expected and it turns out that the anger that was directed towards him in retaliation was genuine more often than not. Good to know. Maybe it's only fair. Branch has made it clear that they weren't close enough to taunt and tease like that anymore.

Ever since Branch had snapped at him over his throwaway comment to Bruce John has been spending his nights tucked away in Rhonda. He was painfully aware that the relationship between him and his brothers was strained and while he didn't give that much thought during the day it lingered in the back of his mind when he was alone.

He's shuffling around the kitchenette while Rhonda snoozes away, her gentle snores humming through the floor and acting as a firm reminder that he wasn't alone. He doesn't know exactly what he's looking for as he rummages through the cabinets and peels open the fridge but he's peckish and needs something to do with his hands to keep the more unsavory thoughts at bay. Finding a snack just so happened to solve both of those problems so he throws himself into it.

He's humming the hook to one of Branch's songs-- because of course his brother was so amazingly talented, obviously-- and he grins in triumph when he finds a box of pasta in one of the cupboards. He mumbles the chorus, the words escaping him at the moment, and goes about collecting the rest of what he'd need to make himself some dinner. It's as he's filling the pot in the sink, singing fading out as his focus narrows in on his task, that his darker thoughts bubble up to taunt him. He thinks back to what Branch said a couple of days ago. He scoffs, rolling his eyes while he swings around and settles the pot on top of the small stove. He hadn't given Bruce an eating disorder. That's ridiculous, right? Any issues that Bruce had back then were his own, it was immature to push that onto him, and Branch was just a little baby back then! What did he know?

Here, alone in his home with only Rhonda's familiar rumble and the sounds of the night to keep him company, John Dory allows the guilt to creep in. He looks back on those days and just how pushy he'd been with Bruce about his figure and can easily connect the dots. He doesn't know how it never occurred to him before but he was no stranger to willful ignorance. He figures he'd pushed those thoughts away subconsciously, keeping himself free from the responsibility before the idea ever could have crossed his mind. He knows he hadn't been the best brother after BroZone initially took off. He knows that the pressure of the fame and the fans had gotten to his head and he'd become strict with his family, turning something that had been a passion and a hobby into an obligation.

He had been relieved when Clay and Bruce had brought up leaving after the incident. He'd been so wrapped up in the idea of perfection that anything else made him feel sick and he'd taken that and directed it outward. Clay couldn't be serious. Bruce had to keep his figure. Floyd had to showcase his sensitivity for the world to see. Branch, their baby brother, couldn't possibly be nervous to go out on stage in front of hundreds of people. It would've ruined everything.

No. He knew well just what had ruined everything. He's had two decades to ruminate on it, after all.

He jumped at the chance to get out when the opportunity presented itself and in turn their family split apart. He had pitifully believed that nothing terrible happened. That it was just a disagreement and if-- why had it always been if? Why had he never planned for when?-- they came together again it would all be in the past. He hadn't known at first that they'd all left after he'd gone. He didn't know that Grandma Rosiepuff got eaten. He didn't know that Branch grew up completely alone. He didn't know. But he knew whose fault that was too. Huh. Willful ignorance.

Poppy had broken through that excuse with ease on their trip to Mount Rageous. She was right then and it applied now. He didn't ask. He never followed up. He was always his first priority, even when he felt like he had four younger brothers to raise despite the fact that Grandma Rosiepuff had been there to shoulder most of that burden and do so proudly. It felt like the world had been on his shoulders and rather than communicate that and break the untouchable, perfect persona that he'd built he let that turmoil simmer inside of him until it inevitably boiled over. Looking at all of his brothers now he thinks that maybe he hasn't grown at all.

A knock on the door startles him from his spiraling thoughts and he spares a quick glance at the steaming pot before he goes to see who's outside. It's late, he wasn't expecting to see anyone else until the next day, but a part of him is hopeful that maybe they might need him for something.

He pushes open the door and blinks down in surprise. His youngest brother is illuminated in the cone of light stretching out from the open door, standing awkwardly with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. It's only been a little while but John Dory thought he was learning how to read the different expressions of his siblings. This scowl wasn't angry. It was uncomfortable and hesitant. Trying in vain to cover up the more vulnerable feelings. John Dory leans against the door frame and plasters on an easygoing smile, "Hey, Bitty B!" He greets brightly, "What do I owe the pleasure? Everything alright?"

Branch rolls his eyes, already annoyed, but his expression softens into something much less apprehensive and John considers that a win. "Everything's fine," He assures easily, tapping his fingers anxiously against his arms. It's that little motion that clues John Dory into the fact that this is something serious. At least something serious to Branch. Branch was a wary person by nature, honed by years of isolation and paranoia if the tales that Poppy told in a far-too-bubbly tone were anything to go by, but still he was usually very steadfast and confident in what he did. When he hesitated it was something personal. John wanted to take that seriously, especially now that he's seen how his negligence could affect his family. "I just… wanted to talk."  

Oh. That was daunting. John absentmindedly tugs at his jacket, a self-soothing gesture that he hopes looks as mindless as he tries to make it. "Yeah, of course." He steps back, leaving the door open in a clear invitation. He doesn't bother to linger and instead heads back over to the stove to drop the noodles into the now boiling water. He hears Branch follow him in, those telltale near-silent footsteps trailing slowly after him. He doesn't hear the door close but he has the awareness not to mention it. He figures Branch would feel more comfortable having an easy exit and he was trying really hard to be more conscious of what his brothers are feeling. The silence stretches for a few long minutes before John Dory realizes that Branch isn't going to start on his own. "So," he drawls, propping himself up against and counter and smiling over at Branch, "What's going on in that little head of yours, buddy?"

Branch grimaces but visibly steels himself, steepling his paws together and taking a bracing breath. "I'm sorry," He forces it out in a clear attempt to push past the emotions holding him back. John Dory is stunned by the apology, and he honestly doesn't know what it is that Branch is apologizing for, but Branch takes his silence as something else and rushes to continue. "I shouldn't have blown up at you the other day. There had to be a more civil way to bring it up and I don't want you to feel like you have to avoid everyone just because I lost my temper,"

"Oh," John Dory can't seem to figure out how best to articulate that he didn't think Branch had to apologize. Or rather, he didn't want Branch to apologize. Despite how humiliating he found the whole ordeal he thinks that he needed to have some sense knocked into him and that couldn't have happened if Branch had broached the topic with kindness like Floyd would have. It was humbling even if that made him uncomfortable. A necessary evil he was grateful for even if it made his skin crawl.

Branch barrels on, gesticulating more and more the longer John Dory remains unresponsive. "It's fine, if you don't feel like being in the bunker right now, but I just wanted to make sure you knew I wasn't kicking you out and that I know I should have handled it better, you know--"

"Woah, woah, Branch," John Dory cuts in swiftly, pushing away from the counter and waving his hands soothingly as he gets his wits about him. "We're cool, you just caught me off guard there." He chuckles lightly, noticing the wild look in Branch's eyes fade a bit at the reassurance. It makes him feel lighter knowing that if nothing else he could still soothe his baby brother. "You don't need to apologize," He starts, holding up a paw when Branch immediately moves to protest. He takes a long, fortifying breath. He needs to start communicating, he needs to start expressing his needs or else the cycle is just going to keep repeating and repeating and John has seen how change has benefited his brothers. He needs to open himself up. He's never been the closest to Branch but his youngest brother has done nothing but try to accommodate them and express a genuine desire to tentatively patch their family back up. John Dory figures that if he's going to start trying that Branch isn't a bad person to test the waters with.

"I'm sorry, too," John Dory starts. Branch doesn't even hide the shock on his face and John can't even find it in him to be offended. He had never liked apologizing. He doesn't now either. The only thing that's changed is now he understands that sometimes sorry is necessary and an apology is not a flaw. "I know I can be a bit self-centered but I didn't realize how much I hurt you. Any of you. I needed that call out, bro." He tries to get it out evenly, keeping his sentences measured so they don't come rushing out of him. He falters, watching Branch carefully, but he loses his nerve and turns around to stir his pasta instead. He laughs awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders, "It's really not a big deal, we're all good."

"You've put a lot of pressure on yourself, huh?" Branch asks softly. John Dory tenses up before the words even fully register and he mentally curses how obvious that must look.

He forces his muscles to uncoil and scoffs, "Well, I was single-handedly putting together a rescue mission just a few weeks ago," He jokes stiltedly, trying to push the conversation to a lighter note. One that he felt like he could handle. Branch, sadly, wasn't one to beat around the bush. Not when he had his sights set on a goal and someone else to unravel.

"No, before that," Branch states it now with such confidence. Like it's so obvious. That tears at John's walls and shreds through them. He knows his carefree expression is wavering so he keeps his back to his brother despite just how transparent that must be. John Dory missed his oblivious little brother who would look at all of them with wide eyes filled with wonder and amazement, willing to believe every word that came out of their mouths. "That perfection you wanted for everything, that was yours. You needed it for you, didn't you?"

John Dory doesn't respond. He doesn't need to. The clue board should have clued him in, he supposes. Branch was a smart one. Observant and meticulous. There's no doubt in John's mind that he'd be able to figure out anything if he really put his mind to it. He just wishes that attention had never been directed at him and his carefully covered faults.

Those near-silent footsteps head back towards the open door and John Dory's stomach drops. What was it that made Branch feel the need to flee? He thought that opening up was a step in the right direction but maybe he'd misjudged the moment. John glances over his shoulder to see Branch hovering by the open door, weight shifting from foot to foot while he considers his next words, "You don't have to be perfect for us to love you," he finally says. He doesn't look back to meet John's eyes but his expression is still firm. John feels like he can't breathe, air trapped in his lungs while he waits for whatever comes next. "You're our brother. We want to know you for who you are, not as the person you think you have to be." With that, Branch leaves. The door shuts behind him with a finality that John isn't sure he appreciates and it leaves him alone in the quiet with nothing but a boiling pot of plain noodles and the soft and noisy grumbles of a waking R.V.

His appetite is gone, shriveled and killed by the twisting in his gut, so he rinses the pasta and leaves the bus to feed the noodles to an excited Rhonda. He gently runs his paw across her cheek and smiles softly when she trills lovingly at him. His stomach is in knots and he doesn't know whether or not it was a good thing he'd tried to put his feelings out there. It made his skin crawl and the vulnerability had quickly put him on the defensive but he feels like he'd made progress with Branch that he hadn't been able to before. He goes back to his room in the bunker that night.

#| Game Plans | #{ isolationist } #{ the leader } #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls rhonda #angst #hurt/comfort #trolls fanfic #trolls dreamworks

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

Clay sat perched up on one of the many stone clusters scattered around the entrance of the bunker with a clipboard sat on his lap, an inventory for Branch's perishables printed across each page in neatly made rows and columns. He wanted to help out with his brother's organization but Branch was adamant that his system didn't need any adjustments. Clay had hesitated then, wondering what else he could do to take some weight off of Branch's shoulders, but before he could even ask Branch had shoved a list and a pen in his hands and asked him to check the stock on the lower level. Clay was more than happy to have a task to do. This has definitely been the longest he's gone in quite a while without having a job to keep on top of and it was starting to make him antsy. He had only made it halfway through the five-page list, Branch had a lot more perishables than he expected, and so he made his way up to the surface after a few hours to get some fresh air.

That had been two hours ago. He's looked over the list at least fifteen times now, checking and double-checking that he hadn't overlooked anything so far, and he was quickly running out of excuses to stay outside. But Viva had come over with Queen Poppy and so her friends and his older brothers were locked in an outrageous water balloon fight over in the clearing he conveniently had a perfect view of. It looked like a lot of fun. Clay wasn't fun anymore.

He's been trying to subtly keep an eye on the all-out war waging just a few meters away, watching as the group laughed and splashed about. They cheered and groaned in equal measure with each blow that landed and Clay wondered with no small amount of yearning whether or not they'd split into teams or if it was a free-for-all game. It took all of his focus to not jump up and join in. He'd spent years proving that he was more than just the fun one, that he still deserved to be taken seriously, and he would be damned if he threw all of that away just for one silly little water balloon fight.

His frustration with himself only grew when his ability to do his one task was inhibited. He knew he was being ridiculous. He could very well just get up and head back inside but he hadn't yet found the willpower. Each time he nearly gave in and went back in to finish up his work another loud cheer would break out or they'd spread apart to start another round and he'd be drawn right back in.

He doesn't know why this was so hard for him. He's been just fine all these years and he found a lot of joy in the work he did for the community back at the golf course. It seems that his restlessness was starting to get to him in ways he hadn't really considered. There was an eagerness buried under his skin that called for something to do and he could admit to himself that he still wanted to throw himself full-force into the parties and events that made up Troll Village. There were a lot of parties and events in Troll Village. Clay has still gone to his fair share of get-togethers with Viva unbeknownst to his siblings. It was easy to let loose with Viva. Viva never once doubted that he was someone serious and respectable and she had been a large contributor to how he viewed himself now. It was also really nice to be able to come back to the peace and general quiet of Branch's bunker, unwind from a loud day full of bright colors in the comfortable quiet surrounded by muted and natural tones. There was a balance that Clay found for himself that he really enjoyed but he was afraid of showing that to his brothers. He'd been so adamant after seeing them all that he was no fun at all anymore but he'd never expected to spend any extended period of time with them again.

He couldn't escape it now, he supposes, and honestly he doesn't want to. He had forgotten how much he loved them. He'd never say that to their faces but he was grateful to have them in his life again. His cold relationship with John Dory has even improved significantly and he finds that it's actually really nice to talk to his eldest brother. They've spent a few long afternoons just chatting around the bunker, exchanging stories about their lives since the band broke up. It was still weird to see John really listening but it was a nice kind of strange.

Another round of cheers breaks out and drags Clay from his thoughts. He looks up to see one of Poppy's friends drenched, the big blue one, with an empty bucket rolling along across the grass beside him. He's clutching his pet worm to his chest as he guffaws, pushing his hair back with his free paw. Clay groans softly and lets his head fall onto the clipboard with a muted thunk.

A light chuckle from somewhere behind him startles him out of his wallowing and he whips his head around to see Floyd and Branch making their way over. "Having fun?" Floyd pressed with a soft smile on his face. It's clear that it's one of his bad days. His eyes have large bags hanging under them and he moves slowly without his usual grace. Clay can even see his hands shaking slightly after he gets a little closer.

"Me? Never." Clay scoffs and smiles back in greeting. He raises his clipboard in one hand, spinning his pen expertly in the other, "Just getting some fresh air while I check over my work." They exchange a look that Clay can't really place and Branch hoists himself up onto the rocks that Clay has made his home the last couple hours. "What brings you two out here? Poppy finally convince you to join in?" He turns a teasing look to Branch.

"Ha, ha," Branch deadpans, looking every part unimpressed. Fun or no fun Clay could never give up messing with his brother.

"Also getting some fresh air," Floyd cuts in before their banter could escalate. "I really needed to be outside for a little." He shrugs but Clay's smile drops at the haunted look in those pink eyes. Despite everything it could still be so difficult to overlook everything that Floyd has been through. He still hasn't told them just how long he'd been trapped with Velvet and Veneer but even the handful of hours that Clay had been held captive had been enough to rattle him to his core. Floyd was fragile in a way the rest of them weren't, his heart on his sleeve despite how delicate it could be. On days like this Clay was reminded that despite that Floyd was no less strong.

"Well, you're more than welcome to join me," Clay assures warmly, he glances back at his clipboard and very pointedly ignores the game going strong in the background. "Just don't expect much from me in terms of company." Because he was working and not because he was captivated by the water balloon fight. Obviously.

"Thanks," Floyd's smile is soft and he takes Branch's hand when the other offers him help. Branch easily pulls Floyd up and Clay wonders if Floyd is just that light or if Branch is just that strong. "What're you working on?" He asks as he settles down between Branch and Clay.

"Oh," Clay blinks. He had expected their conversation to end there. Sure, he wanted to be taken seriously but he didn't expect the others to have any interest in his work. He was always entertaining back then, he told good jokes and did cool dances, but he expected their attention to drift elsewhere when they realized he was being boring. He didn't really think that would change just because they were older now. It was the price he had to pay for the results he wanted. The only person who seemed to enjoy things like this in the way he did was Branch. It made something melt sweet and soft beneath his ribs to see Floyd expressing a real interest. "It's inventory for some of Branch's provisions. I wanted to help out a little so he asked me to take stock of the perishables." Saying it out loud he knows it doesn't sound interesting. All the detail work and the tedious counting rarely caught anyone's attention. Even Clay got bored of cataloging like this from time to time.

"Oh, yeah, should probably know what you have if it can expire." Floyd realizes, nodding along. He looks pale now that Clay can see him in the sun. Floyd's pelt is a bit dull still compared to Clay's own and there's a haziness to his eyes that speaks more to how unwell he's feeling than to bad memories. "I'm honestly a bit surprised you have more than what's in the pantry," Floyd turns his head to Branch and the older two bask in how the tips of Branch's ears turn a deep blue. Clay wasn't stupid. He's seen that Branch's skin isn't as saturated as the rest of theirs, even compared to a still-recovering Floyd. He doesn't know if anyone else has given it much thought and he's pushed it to the back of his mind. The possible implications made his stomach twist and he didn't want to jump to any conclusions. Maybe after years of holing up with Viva a bit of her paranoia had rubbed off on him. Either way, it was really nice to see some color back in Branch's face.

"I may have stocked up when I knew you guys would be staying." Branch mumbles, averting his gaze and staring intensely down at the tall grass brushing against the rocks.

"Aw," Clay coos because he can't resist. "You bought real food just for us." He reaches over, carefully avoiding knocking too hard into Floyd sat between them, and ruffles Branch's hair. Expectantly Branch quickly tries to push him away, hands flailing up to bat at the offending arm. It was becoming a running joke between the three eldest brothers to see who could manage to touch Branch's hair the most before they went home. Branch was usually quick enough to duck away or hide behind someone else but there were still plenty of opportunities to catch him by surprise.

"The rations are real food," Branch argues, successfully untangling Clay from his hair and scooting away for good measure. He shoots Clay a sharp glare and huffs, though he doesn't retaliate. "They're for emergencies though. I only had enough fresh food stocked up for me and apparently it's important to be a good host." Branch rolls his eyes and Clay can already picture Poppy ranting with great exasperation at Branch about the importance of taking care of your guests.

"Thanks Branch," Floyd says it with such sincerity that Clay couldn't even hope to follow it up with any more teasing remarks. Well played, Floyd. It's interesting to see Branch immediately soften under Floyd's kindness. There was a general affection that rested on Branch's features when he thought no one was looking, content in a tired way that felt like it should be foreign to the youngest of them, but he always visibly relaxed with Floyd. It makes sense. Floyd was the one who brought them all together, and Floyd caused the least amount of ruckus, but Clay thinks there's something more to it that he's just not privy to.

"Of course," Branch nods, shyly soaking up the gratitude. Clay has learned that Branch isn't really used to others being grateful for him. He doesn't know exactly why, whether no one ever really explicitly thanked him or he'd never had someone who could, but Poppy made it no secret that she was always grateful for Branch. His face got several shades darker every time.

Another round of cheers draws Clay's attention before he can think to ignore them. Viva is somehow covered in glitter and cackling like a madwoman, leaning heavily on a chortling Poppy to stay upright. Branch chuckles and Clay glances over to see the other troll shaking his head fondly with an easy smile on his face. His face always melts when Poppy is involved. The Queen flips some sort of switch in him that rounds out all his sharp edges. Clay doesn't know how to thank her for being there for Branch but he wants to find a way. Maybe he'll ask Viva.

"You know, you could always take a break," When Clay looks at Floyd his expression is far too knowing. Clay hates it when Floyd gets smug. He's sure the last twenty years have only made Floyd better at being a little shit. Floyd's expression only turns smug, though, when Clay doesn't immediately respond. He tilts his head towards the ongoing game, silently urging Clay to get up and enjoy himself.

"Psh, what?" Clay waves a paw, "Nah, why would I do that?" Even to his own ears he sounds painfully unconvincing. He had an image to upkeep now and he wasn't about to shatter it just because he had no self-control.

Branch tilts his head, raising an eyebrow, "Why not?" His confusion catches Clay off guard a little. He'd expected Branch to question him the least. Out of everyone, Branch is the only troll around who wouldn't want to participate simply because he didn't feel like it. "It's not like that's gonna take you the rest of the day, and it's not important anyway." Branch gestures to the clipboard with a shrug, settling back on his paws and turning his head back towards the fun. "The more the merrier, right?" Coming out of anyone else's mouth the question would've been rhetorical.

"It's not really my scene anymore, Bitty B," Clay tries to explain with a warm smile, watching fondly as Branch's face screws up at the nickname. "I don't really do that kind of thing anymore, I got my own stuff to do." He wiggles the clipboard again. Branch's frown doesn't move, if anything it only becomes more pronounced. Floyd and Branch look at each other again and this time Clay can practically see the silent conversation bouncing between the two. He doesn't know when this happened, they didn't have time to cultivate this kind of close relationship without everyone else noticing, but Clay has never felt more like the middle child than he does right now. With his two youngest brothers conspiring against him and his older brothers off doing the exact thing he yearned to do he felt particularly out of the loop.

"You know," Floyd starts. It's not a good sign when Floyd starts. Floyd won't hesitate to give him shit. "No one will care if you have some fun." Clay expects teasing, some remark about how he'll always be the fun one, but Floyd's face is sincere and open. Clay's stomach twists and he resists the urge to focus his attention back on the clipboard. That'd only look like he was avoiding eye contact.

Clay rolls his eyes, "That'd be great. If I wanted to." He places the clipboard aside and subtly stretches out his fingers. He hadn't realized just how hard he'd been gripping the wood until he'd let go. "Seriously, guys, I'm good. I'm right where I want to be." He goes for a reassuring smile but Branch is looking at him with those calculating eyes of his so Clay knows he's screwed. He sighs, sticking a hand into his messy hair and picking at a knot there, "I'm fine, really. I have work to do right now and I don't know if I'm comfortable being the fun guy in front of so many trolls." Branch's gaze softens and Clay lets out a relieved exhale. Floyd's smile is sympathetic as he hugs his knees to his chest.

"I get it," Branch nods, turning his gaze away again. That only sparks Clay's unease again. Branch avoided eye contact sometimes when things got emotional. Floyd says it's an easy way to disconnect yourself from the situation without leaving. Clay thinks Branch is just awkward. Bruce thinks they can both be right. "After the Bergens discovered that they could be happy without eating a troll a lot of Poppy's friends tried to invite me to things afterwards. Ya know, since I helped out. It took me a while to take them up on it, I didn't want anyone to think that I was an entirely different troll just because we all went on some crazy adventure together." He shrugs and clears his throat, turning his head back towards his bunker when his discomfort rises.

Clay laughs, "I don't know what that has to do with me," He tries to play it off but quiets quickly when Floyd shoots him a pointed look.

Branch huffs a soft laugh and turns back at him just far enough for Clay to see him roll his eyes. "I wanted people to still take me seriously, and not assume that just because I changed I suddenly wanted to do everything a normal troll does. Don't get me wrong I love being a troll, and it's nice to do things every now and then, but I'm also still me." Floyd gently knocks into Branch and offers an encouraging smile when it seems like Branch is getting off track. Branch clears his throat again, "Right, the point is that I know what it's like. To avoid doing things so that people don't look at you differently." Finally Branch makes eye contact again and Clay is taken aback by the open compassion there. It's warm and understanding and makes Branch's blue eyes shine. "You can still have fun sometimes, Clay. We know that's not all you are."

Floyd quickly agrees, jumping in to give Branch a moment to pull his thoughts together and compose himself. "No one is gonna hold it against you if you want to enjoy yourself." Which is such a nice sentiment and Clay knows they both mean it but… but it's different when it comes from your younger brothers. Of course they'd still take him seriously. To at least some extent they'll always remember the days when they were kids and he knew more than them. When they were kids they could come to Clay for things, whether they took him seriously or not, because more often than not he had the answers or knew someone who did. Floyd's encouraging smile dims when Clay clearly isn't convinced.

Branch sighs, tilting his head back with a small groan of genuine frustration, "Clay," he starts firmly, rolling his head back up to clock Clay with a dark look. "The only person who you're gonna convince with this is you. No one is all stiff and professional all the time, and everyone has hobbies that they do for fun. If you want to have fun you should. You're not the fun one anymore but that doesn't mean that you can't hang out with your friends." Branch stands with a grimace, holding out a paw to Clay. Clay stares blankly back for a few long moments before Branch impatiently shakes his offered hand and Clay takes it on instinct.

Branch pulls him unceremoniously to his feet and drags him off the rocks and off toward the commotion without so much as a pause. "Woah, woah, hey," Clay protests, trying to pull back only to find that Branch's grip is strong. He turns back to Floyd in search of help but Floyd just offers a smug little wave with a smug little grin. "What're you doing?"

"We," Branch corrects, "Are gonna go join a stupid water balloon fight." The closer they get the more trolls pause in their battle to send them curious glances. Clay can already feel the nerves building under his skin but they're chased away by the growing excitement and anticipation. Branch was offering him an excuse. He saw that Clay wanted to join but he was too caught up in himself to take the chance and he decided that he'd give Clay an in. Clay's heart bursts with affection, warmth seeping into his body that had nothing to do with the summer sun.

"Hey," John Dory greets, hair soaked and dripping water from tall strands hanging in front of his face. He tosses a water balloon lazily into the air, catching it lightly while his eyes flick between them. His smile widens when Branch and Clay stop only a few feet away. The whole field was still, waiting with baited breath for the next move. Clay was equally frozen wondering just what Branch would say. Branch, as it turns out, doesn't say anything. He takes one step forward, sighs a long-suffering sigh, and extends his arms out on either side of him in open acceptance.

Approximately three water balloons slam into Branch at once; John Dory lands a swift bullseye to Branch's face, Poppy hits him square in the torso, and Bruce gets a shot in on Branch's hip. Branch falls back like a man shot, landing on his back with a quiet oof, and looks up at Clay with a deadpan expression ruined by the shine in his eyes and the nearly imperceptible twitch of his lips. "Avenge me." He monotones.

Clay doesn't hesitate to jump into the fray. Chaos erupts across the field as every troll scrambles for ammunition. Viva joins Clay in his quest for vengeance and Poppy cries betrayal when her sister nails her in the back of the head. Clay can hear Floyd laughing from here. Branch sits up from where he'd fallen, watching with a soft smile as Clay finally lets himself have this. Clay smiles back. He has a lot of fun.

#{ isolationist } #{ the sensitive one } #{ the fun boy } #trolls fanfic #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls branch #| Game Plans | #trolls dreamworks #hurt/comfort #angst #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls