Disclaimer: We don't own Trolls.

Chef charged into the scullery maid's room, not even bothering to knock. It had taken her five days to come up with a better solution for holding the trolls than the bird cage they were currently in. Held in her arms was a large rectangular tank with a metal lid that had a lot of air holes. There were four latches on the lid to keep it closed and prevent the trolls from escaping. Despite the signs of normal wear and tear, Chef expected that it would hold up well enough. She'd spent the last few days washing it and mending the worst of the damage.

As she firmly shoved the glass tank into the maid's hands, Chef said, "Idget, this is a breeding tank." Silently she added, Or, rather, a really old fish tank I just spent days getting patched up. Don't these fools know how to take care of anything? I couldn't even find that old sick troll isolation tank. What'd they do? Recycle it for a window pane or something?

Bergens could be fools, and that was what made it so easy to take control of the kingdom without anyone even knowing she'd done it. However, that didn't stop their foolishness from annoying Chef on a regular basis. She was pretty sure she was the only bergen with a brain.

To Idget—or, as the girl had actually introduced herself, Bridget—she continued, "Stick those trolls in there and make sure they do what they're supposed to do! Then come tell me the moment they're all done! Is that clear!?"

"Yes, Chef. Thank you, Chef," Bridget answered obediently. She took the tank over and put it on a small table with hearts on the sides.

Satisfied, Chef gave a humph and left.

With the tank safely set up, Bridget opened the cage sitting beside it and reached inside for one of the trolls. She planned to move them to the tank as gently as possible. The trolls backed away, trying to avoid the reaching hand. Satin didn't succeed, and, as Bridget pulled the pink twin out of the cage, she didn't realize that she and Chenille were actually attached. This left Chenille dangling by her hair. Satin cried out in fear, Chenille in a small amount of pain. The sound of her charges screaming startled Bridget, causing her to drop Satin. Both trolls landed on the table, hitting their heads.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry!" Bridget apologized. "Are you alright?"

The twins sat up, rubbing their sore heads.

"Ow..." Satin said.

"What are you complaining about? I'm the one that was hanging by her hair!"

"Sorry!" the bergen said again before reaching out with both hands and picking up both of the twins. She looked them over briefly, checking for injuries, before she placed them gently in the tank.

Now hoping that no other trolls were physically attached to each other, Bridget reached back into the cage and grabbed Smidge. This caused three unpleasant reactions. The first two happened simultaneously.

Guy gasped, eyes widening in terror. "Oh, no! Smidge!"

At the same time, Biggie cried, "Smidge!" and reached out toward her with his free hand.

The third reaction was more painful. As Bridget was opening the tank to place the troll inside, Smidge bit down hard on the hand that was holding her.

"Ow! Hey!" Bridget cried, dropping the troll and holding her now sore hand close to her chest.

Fortunately for Bridget (but not so much so for the trolls), she had Smidge over the tank before the small troll decided to bite her. Smidge landed gracefully in the tank, right in front of the twins. She waved an angry fist at the bergen as she glared at her, yelling, "And there's plenty more where that came from, sister! Next time maybe you'll be smart enough not to mess with me!"

The other trolls all cheered at Smidge's courage. She put her hands on her hips, looking rather proud of herself.

"That's the spirit, Smidge!" Biggie called.

"Yeah! You goooooo, girl! Keep up the goooooood wooorrrrrk!" Guy cried out in his autotuned voice.

By this point, Bridget could see the dangers of sticking her hand into a cage filled with trolls. Not only could she hurt them, but they seemed happy to strike back. Deciding on a new approach, she picked up the cage and opened the door over the top of the tank, tipping the cage so she could dump the trolls in. They were supposed to be fairly sturdy little creatures, so she was sure they'd be okay.

Feeling the ground beneath them tilt, Biggie panicked and jumped for the bars, his eyes wide. DJ, Cooper, Creek, and Fuzzbert weren't able to grab anything in time, but Biggie and Guy managed to get a grip on the bars of the cage and held on tight.

"Nnoooo!" Guy cried out in autotune. He'd wrapped his arms and legs tightly around one of the bars, eyes slammed shut in fear. "I'm too good-looking to gooooo!"

"Come on, just get into the tank," Bridget soothed. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

Guy's eyes widened in shock at this absurd statement. "WHAT!?" He was so stunned, he actually let go of the cage, losing his grip and tumbling into the tank below. "W-w-whoooaaaa!"

Eyes slammed shut, Biggie shook his head vehemently, crying, "No! I don't believe you!"

Seeing that this troll wasn't going anywhere like this, Bridget tilted the cage so it was flat again and reached inside, taking hold of the last troll and pulling him out. He screamed in terror, a scream that didn't stop as she gently placed him in the tank. Once his feet were on the ground and the bergen's hand was off him, he stopped screaming, suddenly realizing he was actually unharmed. He peeked up at the bergen.

Creek stepped forward a bit, a hand to his chin. "Hmm... Is it just my imagination, or is there something unusually amiss about the way this bergen has been behaving?"

DJ shook her wide-eyed head and answered, "Nothing dreamt up here, bro! That thing's been acting a lot nicer than all the others we've seen so far!"

"Maybe she likes us!" Cooper speculated optimistically.

"Cooper, she's a bergen! I'm certain she likes us," Chenille said.

Looking worried, Satin added, "The only question is, does she like us plain or with barbecue sauce?"

Chenille nodded to her sister's words as Chef called down, "IDGET! You left FIVE dishes up here! Come and get them this INSTANT! I'm not doing YOUR job FOR you when you're acting this CARELESS!"

Knowing she was in enough trouble, Bridget ran out of the room and straight up the stairs.

Creek watched the bergen maid whose name they all feared might actually be Idget run off before he turned to the others. He looked nervous and uncomfortable as he said, "Ah. Yes, well... What do you all say to discussing our best chances of surviving this? Surely one of you has a better solution than that!"

Being used as livestock wasn't high on Creek's list of priorities right now, especially since his girlfriend was actually safe. Besides, nobody else here was romantically involved with their friends.

"Ideally, we would get out of this tank and leave," Biggie answered. "However, I haven't the faintest idea how we would do that."

"I hate to admit it, but I kind of wish Branch was around right now," Satin said, looking scared. If anyone could get out of a mess like this, it would be him.

"Wishing for Branch isn't going to help us," Chenille pointed out. She felt the same way, but she wasn't about to wish for that traitor. Besides, he'd never help them anyway. He only cared about himself. "If we could find a way out of this tank, that would be a start, at least. Maybe Smidge can break it open?"

"But, ya guys! We couldn't even figure out how to escape from that cage we were just in, and we had way more access to the outside world then," DJ pointed out.

It was true—they had spent the last five days in a simple bird cage, trying to figure out an escape plan.

Smidge looked down, ashamed. She should have been able to do something—bend the bars or...or just walk out. She was so small and the bars on that cage so far apart, she could have walked out and found some way to release her friends.

She smacked herself in the face as this idea occurred to her too late to be of any use. "Urgh. I'm so stupid," she muttered. "Why didn't I—"

"Why don't we just ask that bergen in the dress?" Cooper suggested. "Maybe she'd help us!"

Everyone stopped talking and just stared at him like he was insane.

"What?" he asked. Then comprehension dawned on him, and he said, "Oh, I get it!" He chuckled a bit. "I almost forgot!"

Smidge waved a hand in the air excitedly, saying, "Ooh, ooh! I know! I could just smash the whole thing with my bare hands! Well? What do you say?" Thanks to Chenille's reminder, Smidge felt confident they could get out of here with her strength. She was feeling a bit smug until someone pointed out the next problem.

Creek answered, "Yes, well, that's all well and good, love, but what do you propose we do about getting out of this room?"

Smidge deflated, lowering her hand. "Oh..."

"And, even if we do manage to get out of this room, how are we going to get out of the castle, or Bergen Town, for that matter? There are bergens everywhere! We'll never make it out without being seen!" Biggie cried, hugging Mr. Dinkles for comfort.

The others all deflated then. None of them had a single clue how to do that.

Back in the swamp, Poppy was growing really worried about Branch. They'd walked down one of the original eight tunnels only to come to a small opening with more tunnels to choose from. This kept happening, over and over, tunnel after tunnel. It was like walking through the Minotaur's maze, although the only dangerous thing here wasn't the labyrinth's occupant. The traps he claimed were here were probably even worse since there's no reasoning with an inanimate object.

She had to say something. "Sheesh, Branch. Do you really need all this security? 'Cause I highly doubt any bergens will ever be able to find their way out of this one."

"Oh, I doubt any bergens will even be able to get in this bunker. The security inside is meant to deal with other threats."

Poppy stopped walking and stared at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I'm dead serious, Poppy. Nobody is getting in here." He rolled his eyes and amended, "Well, nobody except a certain pink princess who can't take care of herself."

Poppy glared at him indignantly, following once again since Branch seemed unwilling to stop walking, and said, "Hey. I know I didn't do so great getting out here. But that doesn't mean I'm completely hopeless!"

"Good. Because you'll have to find your way back to where you belong on your own."

Poppy stared at him, sweating slightly. Rubbing the back of her head, she turned away, looking back the way they'd come, as she said, "Rrright... Uh, about that, Branch...I'm sor—" She cut herself off as she turned back to where he'd been only to find he was gone. And she was in another one of those little alcoves with a tunnel selection. It wasn't immediately clear to her which way he'd gone. "Branch!? Hey! Where'd you go?"

Thinking maybe he'd gone down the third tunnel on the left, she went that way.

A little farther ahead, Branch was noticing a problem. This entire time, there had been almost nonstop chatter going on, mostly about how hungry a certain pink girl was. Yet he wasn't hearing any of that right now.

He was getting a bad feeling.

Why's it quiet? Poppy doesn't know the meaning of the word!

He turned to make sure she was still with him, eyes widening when he realized she wasn't. "Poppy!?" he called out, concerned.

Disaster could strike quickly if Poppy was left wandering around down here on her own. If she was anyone else, he wouldn't worry about it—he'd take it as a bonus. But Poppy was the only one who'd ever been on his side. Sure, she probably wasn't really on his side now, but she'd claimed she was. Just on the off chance that she did still like him, he wanted to keep her alive. Her true colors would show sooner or later, and then he could get rid of her.

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't want to hurt her. He wanted desperately to believe her, but he couldn't. If she was lying to him, using him...he didn't think he could handle that.

Branch walked quickly back down the tunnel, hoping Poppy was waiting for him somewhere instead of looking for him. Unfortunately, when he heard her scream in terror, he knew that wasn't the case.

Breaking into a run, he cried, "Poppy!" In his haste to get to her, he dropped his machete.

Arriving in the alcove he'd just left, he looked around, listening carefully for sounds of trouble. His ears twitched this way and that as he strained to hear anything. A loud whooshing sound came from a tunnel on his right, along with a mix of panicked screams.

That wasn't a good place for her to be.

"The fire tunnel!" he cried, running down the tunnel in question. He pulled a remote control out of his hair as he ran.

He hoped he'd get to her in time.

When he got about halfway down the tunnel, he saw the trap was indeed active, as he'd feared. There was a wall of fire in front of him, through which he caught a glimpse of Poppy. He knew, having set this trap up himself, that there would also be flames in front of her and on either side. Praying he wasn't too late—he could still hear her crying out, so she had to be alive, at least—Branch pushed a button on his remote and turned the trap off.

The fire vanished, revealing Poppy on the ground. She was curled into a tight ball, covering her head with her hands. The moment the heat surrounding her vanished, her eyes popped wide open and she blinked a couple of times in confusion. She slowly sat up and turned to face Branch, seeing a remote in place of his abandoned machete.

What in the name of all that is trolly did she just walk into? She had never imagined that one of his traps would be a bunch of flamethrowers shooting at the victim. She was just glad that the trap, much like the buzz saws outside, took awhile to close in on its victim. Was he really so sadistic that he wanted his victims to suffer, to see their deaths coming and have time to panic before they finally were finished off? Not to sound ungrateful for the chance to live, but why torture someone that way?

"Are you okay?" Branch asked.

Poppy just stared at him.

When she didn't answer, Branch, concerned that she might be hurt, went over to check on her. He looked her over quickly, using his torch for light. No burns, but he did find what appeared to be 12 marks from bugs. He thought she'd probably angered a bunch of bees, most likely by not paying attention to where she was going. Since those seemed basically healed, he decided to put his concern aside and move in for a lecture.

"What did I say about wandering off down here? Were you paying any attention!?" he demanded.

"Well, gee, Branch. What did you expect!?" Poppy demanded as she got to her feet. Now she was mad. How could he blame her for this? She never told him to burn people to a crisp! "You just took off back there without telling me you were leaving!"

"Hey, it's not my fault you've got a short attention span! We were heading down to my bunker to get you some supplies so you can get back to your people, remember? You should have been following me!"

"And just what's that supposed to mean!? I do not have a short attention span! I can do an entire scrapbook from cover to cover without getting distracted once! Besides, it's not my fault you're so paranoid that you hide death traps in every corner of your ridiculous home! What do you even need them for? It's not like you're hiding some buried treasure down here like in those old trolly tales about treasure hunters and—"

Branch didn't need words to silence her right now—his glare said more than enough. His thumb brushed across the remote as if he was considering turning the trap back on.

Poppy started, eyes wide. Now she was concerned. "Uuuh... Br—"

"Rainbow trolls," he muttered. He turned away and started walking off, saying, "Maybe we should get you out of here before I can 'recklessly endanger' you anymore."

He should've known better. She was a rainbow troll. Of course she'd blame him for her mistakes. That's what they did—they blamed him for everything. He ruined everything. He crashed parties. He brought everyone down. He tried to kill people. There was nothing good about him, not in their minds. He was just a nuisance when he was a kid, but now he was dangerous. Any time Poppy nearly got herself killed, it was somehow his fault. Even she agreed on that one now.

"Ooo... Rrright... You're still sore about...that..." she followed with a sheepish grin on her face. Maybe she had taken things a little too far, all things considered.

"Why wouldn't I be? I mean, it's not like I was banished for putting you in danger or anything like that!"

Stupid rainbow trolls. Lousy Poppy. He didn't need any of them. He was better off without them. They weren't worth worrying about, and he should just kick Poppy out right now. Forget giving her supplies—if she was going to act just like the rest of them, she deserved what was coming to her!

"Aw, come on, Branch! Don't be like that! Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Poppy said. "I didn't know there were any laws like that. But I did my best to convince my dad to change his mind! It's not my fault he wouldn't listen."

"And it's not my fault you don't listen to directions," Branch countered, stopping in his tracks. Apparently she still planned on putting up that front, like she cared about him. How far was she willing to go? Would she actually take some blame herself? He doubted it. "If you get separated from me, wandering aimlessly through the tunnels isn't what you should be doing!"

He'd warned her. He had. This wasn't his fault!

"Okay. I admit, Branch. That wasn't the smartest thing I ever did. I apologize. It won't happen again."

Was she serious?

"Now can we please get going? You promised me you'd help me find something to eat, remember?" she begged, giving him a pleading look again.

"Fine," Branch said. "But, before we do, let me make myself clear: Stay with me. If you do lose me, stop walking, stay where you are, and call for me. I'll come back and get you, okay?"

Poppy nodded, glad that he seemed to have calmed down a bit.

"Good. Now let's go," he said, starting off down the correct tunnel. The sooner I get her some rations, the sooner she can get out of my hair.

She wasn't showing her true colors yet, but she'd hinted at it back there. Like everyone else, she hated him. He knew it, and, the longer she was here, the more likely she'd reveal this.

Poppy sighed as she followed him. "I really am sorry, Branch. You know that, right?" she said, her tone gentle and sincere.

Branch glanced at her as he walked along, but he didn't say anything.

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to trust her. But, if she was lying, the shock from that one would probably kill him. He wouldn't set himself up for that pain.

Shortly after that incident, the two arrived at Branch's actual bunker. Like the last one, it was overstocked with weapons, rations, and jars of liquid that Poppy certainly hoped were water. Unlike the last one, there were no frantic scribbles on the walls. Poppy briefly wondered what he did during panic attacks now. She doubted that he'd been miraculously cured of them by being banished—if anything, she figured he had more now.

She stood in the doorway and stared.

"It's okay. There aren't any traps set up in here," Branch said, walking over to a wall of storage units. He grabbed a bag and started stuffing some supplies in for the princess.

Poppy stood there a bit longer, staring at the weapons. "Branch," she finally said as she moved toward the one she'd wondered about in her childhood—a crossbow, she now knew it was called. "No offense, but I highly doubt anyone's gonna attack you way down here. Especially since your home security looks like something out of an Indiana Troll play! So I highly doubt you really need all this stuff. I mean, I know life's been rough for you due to what happened, but—"

"You don't know anything, Poppy," he cut her off. "Stop worrying about what's in my bunker. Let's focus on getting you some supplies so you don't die out there, alright?" He took a jar of dried vegetables off a shelf and handed it to her, adding, "Here. Eat something."

Poppy looked at the contents and grimaced. "Ugh, gee, Branch. What's in there? It looks like crushed Brussels sprout leaves." She opened the jar to sniff the contents. The smell made her feel sick to her stomach.

"I said I'd give you food. I didn't say you'd like it," he answered harshly. She had some nerve, begging him for food and then turning her nose up at what he offered. It wasn't like he was expecting her to eat something he didn't eat. Packing up some food rations and basic survival supplies—including first aid supplies—he continued, "You didn't eat anything yesterday, you said, and I'm willing to bet the 'food' you had those first three days was full of sugar. That's got nutrients in it that you're lacking, if that's the case."

Looking thoroughly disgusted, Poppy started dancing around frantically and whined, "But Braaannch! This doesn't even look edible! I mean, when I told you I was hungry, I was kinda hoping you had something a little more...trolly to eat! You know! Like cupcakes or cookies! Or, at the very least, a few berries or mixed fruits! Are you telling me you actually eat this stuff?" She stared at him in disbelief, wondering what was wrong with him.

Branch turned to her, exasperated. She clearly didn't understand that, in a survival situation like this, you take your sustenance where you can get it. More than that, she was such a child. "Poppy, like it or not, vegetables are an important part of your diet. And, for the record, I am not feeding you cookies or cupcakes. Those are junk food, and, if that's what you've been eating the last few days, it's a wonder you made it this far."

Poppy stared at him for a bit before giving him a lame look. "Wow. You're as dry as ever."

"And you're still a little kid," he countered. He turned his attention back to packing for her, snatching something off a shelf before turning to her and holding it out. Half sarcastic, he said, "This is a compass. Do I need to teach you how to use it?"

Poppy stared at him lamely. She put the jar down on a small table and snatched the compass from Branch. He just looked at her for a second, as if waiting for her to say she needed instructions, then turned his attention back to packing up a bag for her.

This wasn't going well. He was acting like he hated her—like he was angry at her. What had she done? Sure, she hadn't been able to convince her dad to change his mind, but that wasn't her fault! She'd tried, hadn't she? She'd tried everything.

"Look, Branch, I said I was sorry. Why won't you believe me?" she asked, upset. Her friend was so much more distant, so different from the secretly kind yet awkward troll she had known as a child.

"Who said anything about not believing you?"

"Because, Branch. I know you! And you were never this bitter. I mean, sure, you weren't always the happiest troll in Troll Village, but you were never this mean before."

He figured it was all the death threats that made her say that. He was, after all, a lot more aggressive these days. But, with where he lived and what he'd been through, that wasn't going to change any time soon.

"Getting banished and labeled a dangerous, untrustworthy traitor will do that to a troll, Poppy," he answered her.

Poppy looked at him sadly. "Branch..."

How had it come to this? Why hadn't she done more to bring him home? There had to be something else she could have done!

Oh, I can't stand seeing him like this! If only there was a way to—

Her eyes widened as an idea suddenly dawned on her. "Oooohhh, that's just perfect!" She giggled, dancing around excitedly.

Branch looked, startled, and took a step away from her. "Poppy, what are you doing?"

"I've got it! It's the perfect plan, Branch! There really is a way for you to redeem yourself to the other trolls!" she cried out, excited and bouncy.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"It's simple! You've been falsely accused of being a traitor when we all know you're really a hero, and a hero should never be kicked out of his own home! So, if you were to redeem yourself, you could—"

"Hero?" Branch cut her off. How stupid was she? He wasn't a hero.

Poppy waved a hand dismissively and gave him a smug grin. "Pff. Duh, Branch. You are the troll who saved me from the—"

"I'm the troll who got you into that mess in the first place by leaving you alone out there! I was just cleaning up my own mess!"

"Aw, come on, Branch. You know that's not true," she said, her smug grin still fixed in place.

"Once again, Poppy, you don't know anything. Can we please focus on getting you ready so you can leave?"

Why was he saying this? "B-but, Branch! You really are a hero! Why else would you have gone around Troll Village setting up all those traps?"

"Wait, what?" Branch asked, surprised. "What do you know about that?"

"I know that some of the trolls stumbled onto them by accident some time after you left... And, at first, we didn't like them, and we started taking all of them down, but..." She quickly whipped out a very decorative green and black scrapbook, opening it to a page with an ugly blue beast with horns caught in a net. The words "Reason #20 why Branch is a hero, not a traitor!" were written in blue beneath it. "One of your traps caught a growlbeast! See!?"

As she tucked the book back into her hair, Branch caught a glimpse of the title, written in a variety of colors with colorful outlines: "100 Reasons Branch is a Hero, NOT a Traitor." The word "Hero" was done in rainbow colors, each letter a different color of the rainbow and with a different color outlining it.

"Soo, since you clearly did that to protect everyone, then you're clearly a hero. Not a traitor. So we decided to keep some of those traps up, as long as they weren't too dangerous or inconveniently placed," Poppy finished. Probably should have kept a few more than just those tiny net traps, though, she thought to herself.

That last part sounded very well rehearsed, as though she'd said it a thousand times before. Truthfully, she had. Branch, obviously, had no way of knowing this. He stared at her hair for a moment, thinking of that book's title. It was wrong—so very wrong—to write a book claiming he was a hero.

His eyes moved down to meet Poppy's, surprised as he was. "...You made a scrapbook telling everyone why I'm a hero?"

Why waste her time on something like that? Even he knew he wasn't a hero. There wasn't anything likable about him.

Poppy nodded beaming at him. "Uh-huh! And that's also why I just know you're gonna love helping me save everyone, too! Bergens only eat trolls on Trollstice, right!?" She suddenly seemed not just excited but hopeful, as if there was actually a chance her friends were still alive.

"Trollstice hasn't existed for 20 years, Poppy. They can always pick a new day for that holiday."

"Ah. But what if they couldn't? Huh? Huh?" she asked with a smug grin.

Branch crossed his arms and said, "I'm not following."

"It's simple! The bergen who took everyone only got a few trolls! So they couldn't celebrate Trollstice without getting some more, meaning..." She trailed off, still grinning at him. She hoped he could finish that thought. Obviously her friends were being used as bait to lure the other trolls in!

He thought he knew where she was going with this. "Meaning they might be using your friends to breed so they can have more trolls," he finished, for all the world sounding like he was talking about a vaguely intriguing plot point in a story.

Poppy's eyes widened in shock. That wasn't what she had been thinking at all. In fact, it was worse. She froze, arms falling to her sides and mouth hanging open. "...Seriously?"

"Uh, yeah, Poppy. What else would they be doing with them if they're not eating them?"

Honestly, if trolls were food for bergens, then the logical solution to a shortage was breeding them.

Poppy was so horrified that it took her a little longer to recover. When she did, she started dancing around in frantic disgust. "Eeewww, that's just so gross! Argh, I can't believe anyone would even consider doing something like that! What's wrong with those guys, anyway?" She sighed and leaned forward as she ran her hands through her hair in disgust.

"They're bergens, Poppy," Branch reminded her. "Breeding is nothing compared to eating someone alive. Which, I might add, is ultimately what's going to happen to your friends."

She sprung back to life suddenly, a new fire burning in her eyes. "Right! Meaning that's all the more reason to go to Bergen Town and save them! Then, once we get back to the rest of the trolls, everyone will finally see that—"

"Poppy, for the last time, I'm not going with you to do any of that! You go to Bergen Town, the only thing that'll happen is you'll join your friends, either in a bergen's stomach or in a breeding ground! And don't even think of asking me to take you home! I'm not going anywhere near the rest of the rainbow trolls with a 10-foot pole!"

"But, Branch, this could be your one big chance! If you turn it down now, how do you ever expect to prove yourself?" she demanded, exasperated. How could he be so stubborn? This was the perfect opportunity for him! He could make everything right and finally come home!

"Poppy, I don't want to prove myself! I don't want anything to do with Troll Village anymore!" he argued. They weren't worth his time, and he was better off without them.

"But why not!? You're a troll, just like everyone else! You deserve to be happy with the ones you love! Not all sad and miserable and all alone out here! I mean, it's not like you did anything that can't be fixed. All you need is a chance to fix it, and life can be all cupcakes and rainbows again! Just like it used to be!" She got excited there at the end as she used a phrase she vaguely recalled Branch coining—he'd once said her outlook on life was all "cupcakes and rainbows" when the two of them had been searching the forest for Cooper and Smidge after the two had gotten lost, and it had just kind of stuck.

Happy with the ones you love. That was a riot. And how could he "fix it?" He'd already saved her from the mess he'd gotten her into. In theory, that should have fixed it. If rescuing Poppy from the exact situation he was accused of putting her in wasn't enough to undo the damage, he doubted anything ever would be.

"Except life isn't all cupcakes and rainbows. Never has been, never will be. Besides, name one troll who's upset that I'm gone," Branch responded as he crossed his arms.

He had no family left. He had no friends. He knew his foster family wouldn't miss him, and he hated them, too—they'd been part of the stinking mob that day.

Poppy blinked and widened her eyes a bit. "Uh..."

Exactly.

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought. See? Nobody I love in that village. I'm good where I'm at, thanks."

"B-but I miss you, Branch! And Creek is trying to care, but—"

"You miss me?" he asked, surprised. How stupid could she be? Before he could give that much thought, though, the other one she'd mentioned hit him. "Wait a second, Creek?"

Creek had always been annoying. He often joined Poppy in her attempts to cheer Branch up, and, unlike the rest of the gang, he wasn't afraid to touch Branch while he did so. He was more like Poppy in that regard, although he'd never gone quite as far as she had. He was also one of the most popular trolls in Troll Village, so liking the village traitor seemed like a stupid thing for him to do. The idea that he would disagree with his people was laughable, but Poppy seemed so serious.

"Argh. Duh, Branch, what do you think?" Poppy asked, focusing on his first question. "That I throw an annual Branch Appreciation Day on the anniversary of the day you saved me for my health? It's not as easy as it looks, you know."

"Branch Appreciation Day?"

She did realize the abbreviation for that spelled "bad," right? As in, this is a bad holiday?

"Of course! What better way to celebrate one of Troll Village's greatest heroes? But there will be plenty of time to celebrate once my friends are safe at home!" She started toward the exit, adding, "So we should—"

Okay, he'd have to absorb what she was saying later. Right now, he needed to stop her from continuing with this ridiculous idea.

Branch moved toward her and shoved the green backpack into her arms, cutting her off and leaving her slightly startled. "You should take this pack so you don't die in two seconds," he told her. "You should also eat something before you leave to set off on your hopeless quest."

He hoped he'd made it clear. He wasn't going with her. She was on her own. He didn't want to redeem himself. He didn't want to be around her people. They were nothing but trouble.

Poppy stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. She was confused and disappointed. How could he still say he wasn't going with her? "Branch..."

"I told you, I can get you supplies. And, if you're set on heading to Bergen Town, I can point you in the right direction. Other than that, you're on your own."

She stared at him for a long moment, really wishing things were different. Finally she sighed and closed her eyes, sad. "Right. I can see this was a total waste of time," she said. As usual. Urgh, Branch, you can be so infuriating sometimes! Why can't you see that I'm telling the truth?

If he just knew how sorry she was. If he only believed her, then maybe he'd come! He was better than this! Leaving people in trouble like that wasn't something he would do.

"Sorry, Poppy," he said, and he actually did sound a bit sorry this time. "I don't really feel like getting myself killed today, whether it's by bergens or rainbow trolls."

Killed. He genuinely believed that they would hurt him. He was afraid of them. What did her dad do to him that day?

"...Fine, then! Guess I'll just be going to Bergen Town alone!" Annoyed now, she headed for the exit.

Branch watched her for a moment, concern growing. Poppy, going to Bergen Town alone? She'd be dead within the day. He frowned, groaned, threw his head back, and finally went after her, grabbing her arm. "Wait, wait, wait, you can't go to Bergen Town alone! You won't last one more day out there!"

Poppy gave him a lame look and, heavily sarcastic, said, "Why do you care? You're a 'traitor' who only cares about 'himself,' remember?"

"I'm not letting you get yourself killed!"

Poppy crossed her arms with a smug grin. "Uh-hm. Yeah, good luck with that. 'Cause I'm not letting my friends get killed, either!" She glared and pulled away from him, her expression daring him to try to stop her. She headed for the exit again. Stopping in the doorway, she turned a very disappointed look on him and added, "Unlike my dad, I actually still believe in 'no troll left behind.' I just thought that you did, too."

Having said her piece, she turned and left.

Branch stared after her for a moment. No troll left behind... She'd adopted that as her motto early in life, inspired by stories of her dad's heroic deeds the day of the escape. Once, when Branch had demanded to know why she was so insistent on dragging him off to play with her friends, she'd used that motto as her reason and claimed you could be left behind by being excluded from everything fun. That had been the day he'd finally accepted her insistence that they were friends...although he'd never told Poppy that.

He glanced at a cubby in the room, curtains hiding its contents from view. Then, making up his mind, he went to pack some more supplies.

If she still believed that he deserved to be happy, that he still deserved to have someone care about him, then he couldn't let her go alone. Like he'd said, she wouldn't last another day.

A/N: The cover for this story is the cover of the book Poppy's carrying around. Shadgirl2 designed it.