Clay was scared. That was probably an understatement. He could barely think, and there was one thing keeping him from panicking and running home, and that was the knowledge that as scared as he was, he was nowhere near as terrified as Floyd was.
His baby brother needed him. Clay had failed him as a big brother when they were kids. He'd been failing him for twenty years. Clay couldn't make up for all of that now, but he had to try. He couldn't let Floyd down again.
So Clay ignored the fact that he was leaving behind the safety of the golf course, and there was only so much he could do to protect himself or his brother. He ignored the fact that, according to the research he had done years ago, Vacay Island was really close to Bergen Town. To get to Bruce he needed to put himself and his brother closer to the creatures that could, and would, eat them without a second thought.
Clay was afraid of the dangers, but he thought the risk was worth taking. If he didn't go to Vacay Island then he risked dangers that somehow felt so much more real than the bergens.
Realistically Clay knew that John Dory could never be as dangerous as a bergen was, even if he tried. But the bergens only posed a physical threat. John Dory had always been an emotional and psychological threat. Clay could barely remember a time when he hadn't had at least a small amount of caution or fear around his oldest brother.
Maybe when he was a little kid he hadn't realized he was scared. He'd never been given the chance to really think about what it was. It was only when Clay got away from his brothers and had a chance to really deal with his emotions and not always wear a mask did he realize what feelings he'd been dealing with all his life.
Clay had been an angry child. He didn't shy away from confrontations. If something seemed unfair and painful he got frustrated, and he let that frustration show. When he finally had the chance to breathe Clay saw that his anger was a shield. He used it to protect himself from what he perceived as a threat.
Clay relied on his anger to fight back against John Dory. And he used it to hide how much it hurt that nothing he ever did, and everything he was, wasn't ever going to be good enough for his older brother. If Clay didn't rely on his anger to protect himself then he would have had to address his hurt and fear, and he probably would have had a complete breakdown before he even became a teenager.
It was a lot easier to tell himself he was angry than to admit how broken every interaction with his oldest brother left him feeling.
Clay wanted to lean back on that anger now, because he never wanted to be afraid of John Dory. His brother had always been a control freak and a jerk, but he was still his brother. It was normal for families to get mad at each other. It wasn't normal for them to be scared of each other. At least, it shouldn't be.
But it also wasn't normal for someone to lock their brothers in a bottle and damage their legs, just because they were deemed imperfect.
Clay didn't know what to think. He didn't even know if John Dory was responsible for this. But if there was even the smallest chance he was then Clay couldn't let Floyd be anywhere near him. He had to protect his brother. And to do that he couldn't let himself get mad.
Clay had been away from his brothers for twenty years, but he remembered them well. He knew that Floyd had always hated when they got angry. Half the time he would try to calm them down before their arguments turned into a screaming match. The other half the time Floyd would retreat into their bedroom and bury himself under his blankets to hide his sobs.
Clay didn't know if Floyd had been overwhelmed with their fighting, or if he'd been scared of it the same way that Clay had been afraid of John Dory's disappointment. He hated that he didn't know what had upset his little brother so much. What kind of a big brother was he that he had been so busy fighting with his brothers to even ask what had bothered Floyd so much?
Clay may not know what had upset Floyd, but he didn't want to add to that. He coudn't stand to see his brother's tears and know that he was the reason for them. So he couldn't get angry. But he couldn't let his fear or sadness take over. If he was scared then Floyd would get even more freaked out about everything. And if Clay started crying because this was far too much for him then Floyd would start crying, because he was a sympathetic crier.
Clay couldn't get angry, scared, or upset. He couldn't let any of it show. The only thing he could be right now was a big brother. Clay just hoped he was good enough to do it. He didn't have a lot of experience with it. Clay hadn't been around his brothers for twenty years, and even before that he hadn't needed to put in the effort to be a good big brother, because John Dory and Spruce had those responsibilities covered.
Clay didn't know if he was good enough for what Floyd needed. That was why they needed to find Spruce. He'd be able to do so much more for Floyd, and he could help Clay with this whole John Dory situation. Spruce would either tell Clay that he was being paranoid, and their older brother would never hurt Floyd like this, or he'd validate the fears and help protect their little brother. Either way, Clay needed that second opinion and for someone else to be in charge.
Clay could be responsible for a whole clan of trolls, but not for one little brother. That was far too much, and he was scared that he was going to fail. He couldn't afford to though. Whether Clay liked it or not, whether he felt prepared or not, he was all Floyd had right now. He had to be good enough.
Trying to push his emotions aside and focus on his brother was really hard. A part of Clay thought it was no wonder that John Dory had completely lost it as a child, having to repress all his emotions for the sake of not just one but four younger brothers. Clay pushed back those thoughts. He couldn't think about John Dory right now. Thinking of his big brother would just make him sad, mad, or scared, and those were things he couldn't afford.
Clay distracted himself by telling Floyd stories. They were variations of some of his favorite books, except adapted so they weren't sad. Clay could appreciate a sad book, but he didn't think Floyd needed anymore sadness in his life. He cried enough.
His stories were probably sloppy and made no sense, but he made Floyd laugh, and he distracted him from whatever issues were bothering him.
Clay had never been to Vacay Island before, but he knew how to get there. Whenever he was feeling particularly stressed or missing his brothers more than usual he would get out the postcard, a brochure to Vacay Island that he'd found, and a map of the area. He would plan out a trip that he knew he would never really take, but pretending that he would made him feel better.
By this point Clay had a half a dozen different routes memorized. He knew how to get to a port in a way that wouldn't bring them too close to bergen town. There they could hopefully get on a boat that would take them the short distance to Vacay Island. And then they just had to hope that if they didn't find Spruce there they could at least find some information about him.
Floyd slowly started to relax as they travelled. By the time they got to the port he was laughing and talking along with Clay. All of that progress seemed to disappear when they saw the busy port. They saw all kinds of creatures around. None of them looked too malicious. They were just creatures doing their jobs and preparing a ship for departure, or they were creatures who were going to be passengers, and they were getting ready for a vacation.
But everybody was at the very least eight times their size, and those were just the shorter creatures. There were no bergens in sight, but everybody was so massive. Clay wasn't used to feeling so small. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.
Floyd, who might not have ever seen the ocean, had come out of his hair as soon as he'd heard that they were there. When he saw the creatures that towered above them he let out a choked sound that was full of raw terror. Floyd retreated back into his hair, curling up as tightly as he could.
"We're dead." Floyd said, his voice trembling as much as he was. "We're dead."
""We're not." Clay said, though he had those same fears. "Not everybody's like the bergens." He had to believe that. "They don't look too dangerous." They were big, but that didn't mean they were inherently cruel. Just like the fact that trolls were small didn't automatically make them helpless.
Floyd whimpered. "Velvet and Veneer didn't look dangerous either." Clay didn't know who they were. He wanted to ask, but Floyd didn't seem like he was in a mood to talk about it.
"We're going to be okay." Clay said, even though he didn't completely believe it. "Just stay in that ball. I'll get us on that ship, and keep us safe from anybody that might want to hurt us." He didn't know how good he'd do at protecting his brother. A troll's greatest asset was their hair. It was a weapon and a shield. Clay's hair was great at protecting, but after years of frequently curling up and hiding behind his hair, and very rarely stretching it more than that, he didn't know if he could use his hair in the traditional way anymore. He'd never had any reason to try. But he wasn't going to let that stop him. Clay would destroy his hair beyond repair to try to keep his brother safe.
Clay pushed the bottle closer to the peer, keeping as close to buildings as he could get to avoid being stepped on. Clay had thought that they would have to sneak onto the ship and have to find a safe place to hide on it, but when he asked a relatively short crewmate if the ship could accommodate trolls he was given a bright smile.
"Oh, sure." The crewmate, a skinny creature whose skin shimmered like the water, knelt to be closer to them. "The Captain has been working with one of the families on the island so we can appeal to a shorter clientele."
Clay thanked the worker and let them get back to doing their job. He went to get them some tickets, and was pleasantly surprised that they not only accepted troll currency but that they were able to get tickets for a discounted rate. Apparently they were the first guests who were being given these specific accommodations, so they were given a discount in exchange for their honest feedback. That, combined with the fact that because of their size and the fact that they wouldn't need a lot of space, meant that their tickets were very cheap indeed. It was a pleasant surprise.
"See?" Clay said when they were brought onto the ship before the other guests. Apparently that was one of the accommodations made for shorter creatures like trolls. They could board and get situated without worrying about being squished. "We're okay. They're being nice."
"Too nice." Floyd said pessimistically as Clay pushed the bottle. Someone had offered to carry the bottle, but Clay had refused. He was willing to give these creatures a chance, but he wasn't trusting them that much. "Maybe this is a trap, and they're just faking so that they can trick and use us."
Clay grimaced. If he was honest he would say that similar thoughts had crossed his mind. But Clay had always been more pessimistic. He expected the worst so that he wouldn't be disappointed when things went wrong. But that had never been Floyd's style. He'd always liked to give his trust and wear his heart on his sleeve. Clay remembered that Floyd had even said that he thought that maybe not all bergens were too bad. What had happened to that cheerful boy?
"You used to have so much hope." Clay said. "Maybe having a healthy amount of caution can be good, but this isn't like you." He felt like such a hypocrite saying that. Clay had changed in twenty years, and he had never been the troll that his brothers thought he was. It wasn't fair to expect Floyd to be the same little boy he remembered from twenty years ago.
Fortunately, Floyd didn't call him out for his potentially insensitive comment. He just peeked out from his ball of hair and gave Clay a sad look. "I know, I just…I want to trust people. I want to see the best in them. But I don't want to get burned again." And Clay understood. He got it all too well.
"I've never been good at trusting people." Clay said. He'd never even been able to trust his brothers. "But maybe we can try together."
Floyd took a deep breath. "Yeah."
They were brought to a relatively small room that was still massive for trolls. But their escort brought their attention to what looked like a cabinet, but the doors had been tightly sealed close and the cabinet itself had been secured to the wall and floor. Just from looking at it Clay could see that it wasn't going to just topple over. New make-shift doors had been made at the bottom of the cabinet. Intrigued, Clay opened the doors.
The inside of the cabinet looked a bit like a troll pod. There were fake plants everywhere. It wasn't as good as the real thing, but Clay supposed that the ship's crew would have a hard time caring for real plants, and this was a decent compromise.
There were stairs that went up to higher levels, and rods arranged in a way that would make it easy to grip onto with hair. It was cozy here. One of the walls of the second floor of the cabinet was entirely made up of a massive window that left a breathtaking view of the ocean. Between the window and all the plants, the cabinet didn't feel at all claustrophobic.
It wasn't even just accommodating for the typical troll. When Clay went back downstairs he found that the door was big enough for Floyd in his bottle to fit through, and upon a second glance there was a basic lift that he could ride up to the upper floors. It was better than Clay had expected. He couldn't ask for more.
There was more than an hour before the ship would be leaving the port, and then several more hours before they got to the island. This was far from the worst place to wait. Clay spent his time touring their cabinet room, making a note of any safety issues he found. It was actually pretty good, but there was always room for improvement.
Floyd stayed on the second floor, as close to the window as he could get. He watched the ocean, seeming in awe at how bright it was. Eventually he dozed off and slept in the sun shining into the cabinet.
The hours passed slowly but casually. It was all very relaxing. Clay didn't think he had ever been on vacation before. He still didn't consider this a vacation, as they were here for a purpose, but it gave him an idea of what it could actually feel like. Maybe when all of this was over he could actually give a vacation a try.
They reached Vacay Island in the early hours of the evening, when the sun was just thinking of dipping below the horizon. Clay and Floyd left their cabinet and were escorted personally by the captain off the ship. The captain was a native to Vacay Island, and he wanted to hear all of Clay's feedback, which he was happy to give.
Floyd stayed curled up in his hair as they left the ship and found themselves on a beach, surrounded by massive creatures that looked nicer than bergens, but it was hard to relax around them because they were still so big. Clay looked around, trying to find someone that he would feel comfortable enough to ask about Spruce. He saw some children playing catch with each other. It was perfect.
"Just stay in there." Clay said reassuringly to his little brother. "I'll take care of everything." He pushed the bottle under a nearby empty chair where he would hopefully be safe. Keeping Floyd in his sight, Clay approached the children.
"Hello!" Clay called out. "Excuse me." There were five kids playing. They were all larger than trolls were, but nowhere near as much as any of the other creatures Clay had seen today. "Can one of you help me?"
One of the kids caught the frisbee when it was thrown at him, and he didn't throw it back to continue the game. He held onto it and gave his attention to Clay. He found five sets of young eyes looking at him.
"You're a troll." One of the kids said. Clay felt his hope rise. These kids clearly knew what trolls were. That had to be a good sign.
"Yes, yes I am." Clay put his hands behind his back and rubbed at his wristbands to try to ease his anxiety. It was more than a little terrifying to have young children be so much bigger than he was. Their heads were about the size of his whole body. "Do you get many trolls here?"
"No." Another kid said as they rubbed at their eye. "Daddy's the only troll I've ever seen." The other four children all nodded. Clay was equal parts confused and excited.
"Your dad's a troll?" Clay asked.
"Yeah." The kid holding the frisbee said. Another child pulled on his arm and pointed at Clay in what they probably thought was a not-rude way.
"Are all trolls blue?" The kid asked in a quiet voice that was still all-too easy to hear.
"No, we are not." Clay rocked a bit on his heels. "Trolls come in all different colors. Like Vacaytioners.
"Duh." Frisbee kid gave his siblings an annoyed look before he looked back to Clay. "Do you want to meet my dad? He'll be excited to see another troll."
Clay smiled. "That sounds great." Their dad was a troll. He was probably a blue troll. Maybe it was too much to hope that it could possibly be Spruce, but the hope was still there.
The kids excitedly ran towards the entrance of what looked like a karaoke bar or restaurant or something. Clay got Floyd and then followed behind them. The interior was…unusual. There were pools everywhere, and Clay wanted to tell the children to not run so close to the water where it would be far too easy for them to fall in, but he was focusing entirely on carefully pushing the bottle. He didn't want them to get stepped on by the carefree Vacaytioners, and he really didn't want to get careless and push the bottle into the water. So Clay took his time.
By the time they got to the other side of the room Clay saw the kids excitedly talking to a woman as she tried to work around them. It looked like she was standing in some kind of pit so that the floor doubled as a counter for her to work at. Clay was fascinated about how this restaurant worked, and he wanted to look into the structure, but that could wait until later.
The woman looked at them as they approached, and her eyes showed an understanding and small amount of caution that her kids didn't have.
"Kids, why don't you go find your father?" She gave them a gentle push. "I'll talk to our guests." The kids were just young enough that they didn't recognize the dismissal for what it was. They happily ran off, giggling and shoving each other in a good-natured way. Clay watched them go with a longing in his chest. He could barely remember a time when he had been like that with his brothers. It had been so long. He doubted that even Floyd remembered that time.
The Vacaytioner leaned against the floor/counter. Clay couldn't hold back a small flinch, but he still dared to step closer to her to put himself between her and Floyd.
"We don't often get trolls here." She said. "Bruce will be excited."
Clay's ears twitched. "Bruce." That name wasn't quite right, but it was so similar. And she said it pointedly, as though to test them a little bit. She was looking for a reaction from them. "I, uh…I don't know how to ask this without being out of line, but Bruce, is that your husband?" She nodded. "And did he always go by that name? Because we're looking for our brother, Sp-"
"He's gone by Bruce for as long as I've known him." She said, not unkindly. "He changed it years ago. But he has told me about you." She smiled at Clay. "I'm Brandy. It's nice to finally meet some of Bruce's brothers." She didn't comment on Floyd hiding in his hair.
Clay let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "If Bruce is anything like me, he's probably only told you bad things except when he's drunk or half asleep, because those are the only times when he can't keep his mask on anymore." He was trying to make light of a situation that was actually very painful, but the joke was probably in bad taste because he heard Floyd let out a whimper behind him. Clay grimaced. Maybe saying that he rarely had good things to say about his brothers was not the best way to keep Floyd calm.
Brandy chuckled. "That was the case at first, but when we started having kids he tried to focus more on the positive." Brandy gave them a small smile. "He wanted the kids to like their uncles, even if he was afraid they would never get the chance to meet them."
Clay was impressed with Sp…Bruce. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to be that mature. Not when he'd tried so hard to convince himself that he was better off without his brothers, and they were all better off without each other.
"Can I ask why you're here?" Brandy asked. "You're welcome, of course, and Bruce will be ecstatic to see you after so long, but I imagine it's not a social visit."
Clay rubbed his arms, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry. We're in a bit of a situation. I-we need his help." Clay's eyes widened as he realized how that might have sounded. "Not that we're not happy to be here, or that we didn't miss him, it's just…complicated."
"Oh, I know." Brandy said. Bruce had probably told her everything. Brandy looked around. "Bruce is probably out on the water. It's hard to keep him out of the ocean. It might be some time before he comes back."
"We can wait." Clay said. "It's not…I mean, it's a bit of an emergency, but I don't think it's urgent. It's just important."
"From what I've seen, that seems to be how a lot of sibling situations can be described." There was a teasing look in Brandy's eyes. "And here I hoped that my kids would grow out of these situations. I wonder if it's genetic."
Floyd let out a small chuckle, but it sounded strained. He would probably love to talk with Brandy, getting to know her and the kids, but he was still so scared. He was still curled up in his hair, and he wasn't going to come out anytime soon. Clay hoped that Bruce would be able to help him get over this, because this was beyond him. How could Clay help Floyd get over an unfair fear when he had that same fear, no matter how much he wished he didn't?
"You can wait in the back room for him." Brandy offered. "I'll send Bruce as soon as he gets back. And I can get some food for you while you wait."
"That'd be great. Thank you." Clay said. Maybe if he could just get away from these Vacaytioners and all the other massive creatures like them then he could relax and finally convince himself that they weren't in danger.
Clay pushed the bottle again as he followed Brandy out of the main room and to the back. She let them into a room that, while really large for trolls, also had plenty of furniture that was just their size. Clay shouldn't be surprised.
"Make yourself at home." Brandy said. "Bruce shouldn't be too long." She left the room, and the two brothers were left alone.
Clay sighed and sat down. "That went a lot better than I thought it might." He looked over towards Floyd, who was still curled up in a ball. "You'll strain your hair if you stay curled up for too long." If anything, the ball got smaller as Floyd tightened his curl. Clay grimaced. This was not going how he had thought.
"We're safe. It's just the two of us." Clay said. "Nobody's going to hurt you. I promise."
The ball rolled and turned around, and though there was no true way to tell Clay had the feeling that Floyd had turned his back to him. It was equal parts annoying and concerning. "Floyd-"
"What if he doesn't want us here?" Floyd asked.
"He does." Clay said. "Brandy would have told us if he didn't." Floyd still didn't uncurl. "Would you just trust him? Trust me? You always used to count on your big brothers."
Floyd let out a scoff that hurt to hear. "That was before my big brothers left me."
Clay flinched. Okay. He deserved that. But it was still weird and painful to hear. "So you're still mad at me for that, even though you told me to not be too hard on myself for it? Where's this change of heart coming from?"
Floyd's ball started shaking slightly, and Clay hated that he didn't know if he was sad or scared. Did Floyd think he was going to start yelling at him? Or was he crying? The thought of being responsible for either made Clay feel sick to his stomach.
"I'm sorry." Floyd said, even though he'd done nothing wrong. "I'm not mad. I swear I'm not mad. I understand why you left. I just…I just don't know how to trust you anymore." Floyd sounded so upset and guilty, and it was heartbreaking.
"Floyd…" Clay didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at this 'big brother' thing.
"I'm trying." Floyd said. "I promise I'm trying. I just…I can't."
"That's okay." Clay said. "I mean, I can't really ask you to do any better than your best, can I?"
Floyd made a weird sound. "But what if my best isn't good enough?"
"Well, then I guess I'll have to do my best to make up the difference." Clay said. He put his hand on the glass. "If you do your best to trust me, and you can't, it's not your fault. It doesn't make you a bad person. It just means that maybe I need to spend more time being worthy of your trust, and you need to keep trying, and maybe someday it will be good enough."
Clay leaned his head against the bottle. He wished he could hold his brother. "But if it's not. If we never get there, well, that's okay. I'll never stop trying, and I know you won't either." Floyd was his little brother, and he always would be, no matter what. Clay wasn't going to give up on him, even if it sounded like Floyd was giving up on himself. That just meant that Clay would have to fight for him until Floyd could find himself again.