Poppy woke up after only a couple of hours of sleep. Her heart squeezed inside her chest when she realized that, once again, what made her jump from the bed was the sound of Branch's loud cries coming from his bedroom.

Helplessness made her short-breathed. She would always be there for her loving and caring boyfriend, but when he was fighting something that lived only in his dreams, it was like a losing battle.

The violet dress she had worn at the Hairball Supreme was folded on a chair next to the door. She had stayed at the bunker, as Branch's scrapbooked card requested. She was tired, disappointed that there had been no kiss, but she was there. In her bedroom, away from him, like he asked her to.

All she could do was to stand up and tiptoe to his bedroom, anticipating the heart's strength to hold him until the worst of it passed. Branch had the tendency to relax once she was near and still, Poppy never really knew if he was aware of her silent support.

Guiltily, she wondered if he had constant nightmares when she stayed away.

At his door, Poppy heard him begging for it to stop. Whatever he was dreaming about sounded like it terrified him.

Oh, Hair, should she have listened to him and stayed in her room? He sounded so troubled that it felt cruel respecting his isolation wishes at that point.

His door was closed, which was a startling surprise. When they didn't cuddle to sleep, Branch kept the door half open in case she decided to join him. But not only was it closed, she found out the door was locked when she forced it.

"Get away from me!" Branch's voice was muffled, probably by the pillow and Poppy couldn't stand being separated from him.

Fear burned the pit of her stomach. Trespassing wasn't her style, but she wouldn't go back to sleep while he agonized with his tricky mind. So, she turned her hair into a key and plugged it into the keyhole.

A few tries later, it clicked and creaked open like an old rusty door.

The scene before her was seen a few times. Branch was on his stomach, head buried deep into the pillow as if trying to hide. His neck was glistening with sweat and his hair was flying in every direction.

The first step into the room was hesitant, but after another cry, Poppy's feet involuntarily broke into a run. Arms open, she jumped by his side and hugged him from behind.

The air buzzed in her ears and she was knocked on the ground before she even realized what was happening. Colors busted behind her closed eyelids and a sharp pain was felt on her lower lip, having bitten herself during the impact.

Completely lost for a couple of seconds, Poppy tried to take in what had just happened. She was on the ground, struggling to breathe and Branch was on top of her, looking furious.

His hand was holding her down firmly and it was the main reason why she couldn't take the air in properly. He was crushing her chest.

Brows furrowed, he saw something past her. The hatred was directed to a nightmarish monster that morphed into her shape as she touched him.

"Never touch a sleepwalking troll," her dad had said when she was little. How useful was it to remember it now?

"B-branch…" raspy voice, throat burning. "It's me. Wak' 'p" She almost couldn't sound right, but it was with great relief that she saw -with a smoky edged sight - that his frown lines slowly softened and he seemed to wake up and take in where he was.

"Poppy?" He asked in confusion before having his eyes open wide in realization. He jumped away, without noticing the strength he used to get off her and slammed his back into the opposite wall. "Holy…"

"It's okay…" she sat up, pale, trembling and with a bleeding lip. "Are you awake?"

Branch quietly studied her. From her pink toes to her bare legs, up to her yellow short doll and pausing at her hands. His eyes searched her arms and the color of her hair.

"Poppy…" he said under his breath. His eyes filled up with shameful tears and he hugged his knees.

Poppy sat there, lungs aching, swollen lips and confusion hovering between them, sending their minds to opposite galaxies.

Before going to their bedrooms they had shared the most tender words, warm hugs and promises of love and affection. They had a delicious healthy post party soup with vegetables he had picked from his own garden.

How could the tenderness become a violent rage in a couple of hours? The queen was lost and concerned while her boyfriend was ashamed and distressed. He avoided her face, pulling his hair and making a noise that Poppy recognized as the beginning of a panic attack.

"Branch…" She carefully crawled to him, dipping her head to catch a glimpse of his face. "You're safe, you're in your bedroom." Tenderly touching his cheeks to try to bring his face up so he would see her, Poppy felt him shuddering under her touch. "Deep breaths." He didn't follow her instructions. Instead, his eyes set on her bleeding lip, which made the sour tears he had been holding in to finally drop, thick and salty, on the ground.

Poppy held him, confused, but being a fortress of devotion, she shielded him from the rippling bad dreams by cozily cocooning him with her hair so the warmth and the scent of her perfume would work its magic to calm him down faster.

To her surprise, Branch seemed to want to push her away.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed, still not returning her hug.

"You've done nothing wrong," her stinging lip felt warm again and she wiped the blood on the back of her hand. She wanted to tell him it was an accident, but silence was her smarter answer.

"I need to tell you something," curling into a ball, he broke free from her hug, like he felt he wasn't worthy of her affections at the moment, "something horrible." It was crystal clear he feared, with every trembling cell of his body, that Poppy would leave him.

"I've been keeping from you an… event… that happened during the multiverse trip." The air seemed to run thin. It wasn't enough to fill his lungs and Poppy felt she too was being affected by a horrible drowning sensation. His eyes were tightly shut, after all he couldn't face her reaction when he came out with the truth.

He could not see her heart breaking.

And it seemed her heart started to be ripped to pieces as his explanation started to make a little sense.

With stuttering words, he recreated a scene where he accidentally fell into one of the alternate universes and met a rock version of herself.

Poppy covered her mouth with her hands, preventing a horrified scream to interrupt the tale that he vividly unrolled. Her arms hurt, tingling with the rush of blood that raced through her veins with the intense activity of her heart.

When the unthinkable seemed to be the result of his slip, tied down, with an evil rock Poppy provoking him, Branch explained he was able to escape.

"She's been haunting me lately." Branch's eyes were tightly shut, avoiding her face. The confession had to be completely spoken. "And yet, I cannot bring myself to hate it "

Something wet dripped from her chin to the ground. Poppy couldn't say if it was sweat or a teardrop.

He didn't hate it…

… did it mean that, in an unintended way, he somewhat liked it?

Her emotions swirled in an incomprehensible turmoil. Branch sobbed like a boy who had betrayed her trust. Like a child that had accidentally killed its favorite critter.

Poppy felt something hollow taking over her thoughts. Like losing a prize she wanted the most, she had to settle for second place, knowing that doing her best still wasn't enough.

But endless positivity had to be the answer. She didn't know what else to do, but to plaster a smile on her lips and pronounce soft soothing words to get her terrified boyfriend together.

She could pick up the shards of her shattered heart later, but she needed to focus on Branch first. Her own feelings could wait.

"Branch, the floor is cold. Can we move to the bed?" She quietly asked, her voice was barely above a whisper.

He was paralyzed for a long moment, expecting an angry girlfriend leaving him forever, he was lost at her unwavering caring attitude. His face slowly lifted from his knees and he nodded, still not meeting her eyes.

Poppy stood and offered both hands, which he hesitantly took. With a void smile she guided him until he was on his pillow again and for a brief magical instant, he exhaled the excess of trouble and sank into the mattress.

The blankets were up to his nose and she put Crocco by his side. Her cuddle toy was the source of great comfort for her, so she hoped his would work the same way.

She turned to return to her bedroom, but his cold fingers wrapped around her wrist before she could take a step away from him.

Their eyes met. She could read his feelings like he bared his soul for her. He was ashamed, he was sorry and he was scared she would leave him.

After all, it wasn't the first time he had disappointed her.

Still swimming in confusion, not being able to fully understand what he described, Poppy took her place by his side and wrapped an arm around him.

It wasn't her favorite spot on his chest because somehow a small distance was needed.

He returned her hug, turning on his side to watch her.

Poppy felt him watching every single detail, like he wanted to mentally photograph her. He didn't break their hug, but his eyes were like an invisible caress on her face.

His nose was buried in her hair when he was done. Poppy heard him inhaling deeply and tightening the hug even more.

It felt good to have him relaxing, being the source of his relaxation for an eternity that ended too briefly.

A soft snore showed he had finally fallen into a fully restoring dreamland that he hadn't visited in a while.

Making sure that he didn't wake up, Poppy rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling.

Confusion clouded her thoughts. She didn't understand much of what Branch had said.

What had happened?

She had a fluttering feeling inside her chest and something burned in her empty stomach. Her eyes were stinging and words clotted in her throat.

Poppy didn't know what she was feeling, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Cybil's premonition.

The morning welcoming sunlight penetrated through her closed eyelids. Poppy tried to open her eyes but they felt scratchy, hot and puffy. She immediately closed them again and turned to the other side, protecting herself from the intrusive brightness.

The bunker wasn't very illuminated. The daylight came through small alternative entrances (or escape exits) and mainly from the trapdoor, but it never got inside her room.

The bed was a little harder than her own. The mattress was rough and the blanket was a little worn out from many years.

But even with all the evidence, Poppy only realized she was in Branch's room when his lips softly connected with her cheek and the perfume of fresh coffee teased her nose.

Once again she tried to move. Her body felt heavy, but another brief kiss on her cheek forced her to open her eyes.

Branch was sitting halfway on his bed, wearing his bathrobe and a tray with coffee, fruits and a mouth-watering waffle covered in syrup was on the side table.

"Morning," Poppy shivered. When she sat up, the blanket fell from her shoulders and she noticed it was colder than usual. Or maybe, she wasn't feeling as warm as she should.

"Good morning," Branch couldn't help himself and leaned forward again, placing another kiss on her cheek. "I want to thank you for last night." He blushed, quickly averting his eyes to take the tray. "So I made you breakfast in bed."

Last night… her stomach protested at the memory. Nausea went up and down in a seasick sensation. She swallowed the excess of saliva in her mouth, thinking of a way to avoid eating.

"It was the best sleep I had in weeks." Branch revealed. He looked well rested, happy and fully functional. "I guess you are the best medicine, after all."

"I'm so glad, Branch." Poppy smiled with sincerity, but Branch didn't miss that she looked weak. He reached out under the covers and grabbed her hand. His were warm and hers, cold as ice.

They didn't need to speak. Branch knew she was feeling down because of his confession and Poppy knew she couldn't hide how drained she felt from putting herself aside to help him through the night.

"I'm sorry…" Branch said after watching her for a while. Hiding what had happened was mentally poisoning him. He had no other choice but to tell her, right? The small cut on her mouth was a reminder that his nightmares were harmful as well.

Without thinking, his thumb softly caressed her lower lip, inspecting the wound closely. Poppy looked away, brushing his hands away from her.

"I'm really tired." She managed to say, "I should go get some rest."

"Stay, I'll return later-" He was on his feet in a second, almost knocking the tray on the floor. He felt ridiculous. He was nervous like the first days of their relationship. He didn't know where he stood with her, but her interruption was a clear sign that she was also lost.

"Actually, I'll go to my pod." Yawning, Poppy went to her bedroom with Branch following close behind. His heart were in his hands and his tongue was being bitten to avoid saying anything stupid. Poppy could tell by the way he hardened his cheeks. "It was an eventful night and I'll need all the sleep I can get." She was aware, as she collected her things, that it would make more sense to stay in the bunker to sleep, but she didn't need to point it out at the moment.

Besides, she could always count on Smidge to keep her friends away.

"Are you sure you're just tired?" Branch insisted, revealing a sudden panic. Poppy didn't even bother changing. She stood on the elevator, gave him the brightest of smiles and nodded.

Her pink pod was a great comfort and as soon as she stepped inside, Poppy threw herself on her bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

She didn't deal well with confusion and sadness. She couldn't think straight when she wasn't overwhelmed with positivity.

She needed to fix that.