I recently saw the third Trolls movie. As Branch is my favorite tortured character, I couldn't be happier. Here is a story featuring Branch and his brothers, set in between saving Floyd and the concert at Vacay Island. Because Floyd is not okay after that, and they all need to talk about it.

The song referenced is 'Hospital Flowers' by Owl City.

Branch had been pacing for hours, but he was still willing to stay far longer when Dr. Moonbeam came out to the front of the medipod. She looked uneasy. She never looked uneasy unless it was bad. Branch walked over.

"Floyd?" he croaked, wringing his hands together.

"He's looking much better now that he's had some good food and fluids. I took hair samples and blood samples and tested everything. I've monitored him closely, and the changes have now settled."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Branch asked, tears stinging his eyes.

"Come and see."

Branch padded back to the room and stopped when he saw Floyd. His legs nearly gave way and he grasped the door frame as his eyes took in his sleeping brother. His hair was no longer pure pink. The roots were white. He was discolored.

"Oh, snap," Branch breathed.

He stumbled forward and grasped the bed, peering at Floyd's sleeping face.

"Have you told him?" Branch asked.

"I've told nobody. Not even you. But I don't have to tell you, Branch."

"No. No, you don't," Branch said. He knew what it meant, and he immediately began to make plans. He'd need to make lots of bowrain tea. That always helped him, and he was pretty sure it would help Floyd, too, even if his desaturation was white instead of grey. Gently adding the dull colors of a reverse rainbow to a sick Troll was a bit of medicine that Branch had come up with. It soothed him on his grey days and it got him through his greyest days.

"Thanks, Doc." Branch's voice cracked, and he reached over and ran his fingers through Floyd's new discoloration. The hair was still soft and strong, which was good. But Floyd would probably have to take special care of his hair for it to remain healthy, especially on white days. Leaning down, Branch kissed his brother's cheek and stepped back. "I gotta go talk to Poppy. Be gentle with him when you tell him. Please?"

"Of course. No reason to panic this time. It's already happened."

"Yeah," Branch muttered. He gazed at his brother, his heart aching with so many emotions. He didn't know what to do with all the feelings, so he turned and began to head toward Poppy's pod. As he walked, he began to hum.

"We survived a dreadful incident…"He sighed and shook his head. "With a car chase in a city scene. Our fractured bonds, is destruction imminent?"

He could feel the first shivers of desaturation.

"Hey Branch!"

John Dory's voice snapped him out of it, and he immediately forced himself to take a deep breath and repress the shivering. He ignored Poppy's stern voice in his head, warning him that hiding his health issues was a bad idea. But it wasn't like he would permanently hide things. He would simply not tell them until Floyd was able to be there and they could finally tell the truth about things. Floyd was good with truth. He had always been honest. But a little piece of him squirmed. Floyd had been honest, until…

"Yeah?" Branch asked coolly, turning to face his brother.

"Is Floyd awake?"

"No. No he's probably going to sleep for awhile. The doctor gave him sedatives," Branch replied. He looked around. "Have you seen Poppy?"

John Dory pointed, and Branch hurried over. Poppy was bouncing in place, clearly agitated. Branch stopped a few steps away and gazed at Poppy appreciatively as she went through her checklist to make sure everything was done for the day. He'd never thought he'd ever be delighted by such a bright Troll, but then again, he never thought he'd care about others ever again either.

"Hey beautiful," Branch said.

Poppy turned, and her eyes glowed with pleasure. "Branch! How's Floyd?"

"Sleeping," Branch said. He couldn't tell her about his condition yet. It would be obvious to everybody in Pop Village as soon as they saw him.

"Good. Good." Poppy toyed with her bracelets. "Okay, so you're not going to like this, but you know how we're still rebuilding some of the visitor's pods…"

"I was afraid of this," Branch muttered.

"Huh?"

"We don't have room for my brothers to have their own place, right?"

"Yeah…" Poppy peered at him. "Did you really build them rooms in your bunker?"

"Yeah. Yeah I did," Branch said. He lowered his eyes to the ground. "I guess they can stay. They won't leave until Floyd's okay. But no visitors! It'll be bad enough that I can't get away."

"I promise I'll call first."

"Unless it's an emergency," Branch said.

Poppy giggled. "Cool. So… Floyd's going to stay in the medipod tonight?"

"Oh, yeah. Like I said, he's sleeping."

"Then I guess we're done for tonight," Poppy said. "You can take your brothers and head out."

"Yeah. Yeah…" Branch wilted a little. Poppy leaned over and kissed his cheek. A burst of joy flashed through him, and he brightened. "Well, I'll be heading out then. See you later, Poppy. And good luck with Viva and your dad."

"They're probably done crying by now." There was a sob from her pod, and she smiled a little. "Or not."

Branch embraced Poppy and kissed her cheek, inhaling her sugary scent. "Love you."

"I love you, too, Branch."

Branch watched her use her hair to swing up into her pod. There was a renewed sobbing, and Branch stared at the glowing pink pod for a moment, feeling small and afraid. Then he shook himself out and turned to see John Dory pretending not to listen. When he noticed he had Branch's attention, he stood straight and headed over.

"So we're rooming with you?"

"Yep. Where's Bruce and Clay?"

John Dory led him to the center of the village where Bruce and Clay were performing for some fans. John Dory brightened and took a step forward, as if he was going to jump in. Then his eyes dimmed and he took a step back. He looked sad as he watched them finish their routine. Branch noticed, but he didn't say anything about it. When the music ended, the Trolls cheered, and Bruce and Clay high-fived each other, grinning.

"Hey, guys," John Dory said. "We're staying with Branch while we're here."

"Cool," Clay said. "Which one's yours, bro?"

"I don't live in town," Branch said. "This way."

He turned and led them into the forest. His brothers glanced at each other, bewildered, but they followed. When they were ten minutes into the forest, Branch stopped, knelt down, and grabbed a hatch, tugging it open. John Dory, Bruce, and Clay gazed at the opening then looked at Branch.

"Welcome to the hideout," he said, waving his hands. Then he knelt down and climbed down the ladder. When his brothers were down on the first level, he flicked the lever and the hatch closed. Branch got on the elevator and gestured for them to join him. He took a deep breath then pulled the lever.

The elevator went down, and Branch clenched his fists and kept his head down, side-eyeing his brothers as they passed level after level down into the depths of his bunker. When they reached the bottom, he stepped off and padded down a hall.

"Living area is through here. I do a bit of entertaining, so it's decent now. Thank Poppy for that. Kitchen is over here on this side, and bedrooms are over here down this hall. Your names are on the doors. You might want to dust. It's probably really bad. I haven't been in there for awhile. Showers are attached." Branch smiled. "Sorry the water slide didn't work out."

"Water slide?" John Dory asked. "You've said that before. What do you mean, bro?"

Branch reached into his vest pocket and handed a folded piece of paper to John Dory. Then he turned and headed into the kitchen. "What do you guys want to eat? I've got some cakes…?"

"Maybe something not so sweet, bro," Clay said. "We need serious food."

Branch smiled a little then turned. "I'll make pizza then. That's seriously greasy and super seriously delicious."

"Oh, that sounds great, Branch," Clay said happily.

Branch began making pizza, using his favorite recipe from the Bergens. His brothers padded off to check their rooms. His sharp ears caught Bruce's whistle. "Our little brother made this? Look! It looks just like my room did back then."

"Mine, too," Clay said, and he sounded uneasy. He slipped inside and shut his door. Branch watched John Dory open the door to his room once Bruce had shut his bedroom door behind him. His breath caught, and he turned to peer at Branch with wide eyes. Then he turned and bolted inside, shutting the door behind him. Branch smiled a little then focused on making pizza. Unfortunately, he thought best when working, and anxiety began creeping in.

There was so much wrong with him, and it had all started the night he'd ruined the concert. Everything had been okay up to that point. Then they had gone their separate ways. A couple years after that, he'd failed in his important mission to protect Grandma and all the color had gone from his life. Twenty years later, he was a completely different Troll. Did they even notice his discoloration? Did they care? He popped the pizza in the oven then stared at his skin and sang in a low voice.

"A high-speed collision with those who have so hurt me. Will fractures be mended or remain unseen? A blurry image of who we could really be. Could family return to me through a grave emergency?"

After a moment, he shook himself out and focused on cleaning up. By the time the food had come out of the oven, his brothers were wandering out looking ravenous. Branch found he wasn't hungry, and he served his brothers then retreated to his room. He was starting to ache from maintaining the same level of happiness for so long. He already felt drained, but he paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to peer at his three brothers as they ate and chatted.

"Could family return to me through a grave emergency?" he sang softly.

Then he turned and shut the door behind him. He was too tired to keep up his facade any longer. He hesitated then locked the door. He hated himself, but he didn't trust them. Things would be different when Floyd was there. They fought less when Floyd was there.

Letting out a breath, he felt the color drain from him as the full weight of their adventure hit him. He grabbed Poly, his stuffed animal, dug out his blanket, and curled up into a ball underneath it. He should have made bowrain tea, but he wasn't going out there again. Not without Floyd there. There were things he'd missed about his brothers, but their constant fighting wasn't one of them. So he hugged Poly and lay there, waiting for the yelling and fighting. It didn't happen, and eventually, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

John Dory noticed Branch wasn't there first. He peered around and set down his plate. "Uh, guys? Where's Branch?"

Clay and Bruce glanced around. "Maybe he went to bed. He looked tired," Bruce said.

John Dory pressed his lips together. "Is that all?"

Clay and Bruce glanced at each other and John Dory saw their worry.

"So I'm not imagining it?" Clay asked.

"He's off-color," Bruce agreed. "It's more obvious with his hair. It used to be so purple, and now…"

"It's not exactly black," Clay said.

"But it's not purple," John Dory said grimly. "I'm not sure if we should worry."

"Why not?" Bruce asked sourly. "He's clearly not perfect. And that's all you care about."

"That's not true!" John Dory exclaimed.

"Yeah. Sure it's not," Clay muttered. "Look, I'm going to bed. Later, Bruce."

Bruce waved, and John Dory knew he was being purposefully excluded. He said nothing when Bruce finished his food and walked away without a backward glance. He heard the door shut and didn't move for several long moments. Then he slowly got up and looked around. At least Branch kept his living area clean. This would be easy.

John Dory began to gather the dishes, his heart strangely numb. He'd known it wouldn't be easy to come back, but he'd never thought about what would happen afterward. Being excluded hurt. He'd done his best, and it hadn't been good enough. He had failed his parents, and he had failed his brothers. It was abundantly clear that he wasn't perfect, and no matter how far he'd run, his life had come full circle, and he was once again faced with his greatest failures.

John Dory laughed to himself as he cleaned up dinner. Turned out they hated him. And as tears splashed into the dishwater, he couldn't say he blamed them. After all, he already hated himself.