Bruce had always loved the ocean. When he was a kid and needed to get out of the house he would regularly climb to the top of the tree. At first it had been a move of defiance, because it was something that John Dory had forbidden, and Bruce didn't want to be told what to do. The more he went up there though the more he loved it.
There had been a handful of days when the wind was blowing in just the right way that Bruce was able to smell the ocean.
He had always told himself that if he ever got away from the tree he would eventually see the ocean for himself, not just look at pictures of it. After the band split up Bruce took that opportunity. He headed to the ocean, and he went to the island that he had only ever read about.
Vacay Island was everything that Bruce had hoped it would be, and even more. He had fully intended for it to just be a vacation. He needed a break from his brothers, but Bruce hadn't meant to leave forever. He had planned to just stay for a few weeks, or maybe a month, and then go back home when everything had calmed down.
But Bruce fell in love with Vacay Island. It was so relaxing. Bruce could sit for hours on the beach, and nobody scolded him for being lazy. He could eat and drink whatever he wanted, and nobody even implied that he should pace himself or make some 'better' choices. If Bruce wanted to sing he was able to do so when he wanted, how he wanted, and the locals loved it, even if he fumbled up the words or didn't have that high of energy.
Everybody was just so chill and accepting. Even the people who had work and responsibilities were still relaxed and calm, and Bruce wanted that. He wanted to not worry about the expectations that his older brother put on him, or the attention that his younger brothers had demanded from him.
Bruce loved his family more than he could even begin to say, but they were a lot. John Dory frequently used to act more like a guardian than a big brother. Bruce knew why it was necessary, but he also remembered back when John Dory didn't have to be anything but his brother. Back when Grandma was actually well enough to take care of two toddlers and a baby.
That was the John Dory that Bruce missed most.
Though John Dory carried most of the responsibilities, there was a lot on Bruce's shoulders too. If John was busy with the baby, Bruce had to take care of Clay and Floyd. If John was dealing with those two, Bruce was on baby duty. He was also usually the one on dinner duty, because John Dory always seemed to be hit with musical inspiration in the late afternoon and he didn't want to let an idea slip away because he had to be in charge.
Bruce had never exactly minded helping out, but it was still too much to be asked of a teenager. Because John Dory was seen as the 'scary' one, Bruce was usually the one that Clay and sometimes Floyd went to when they needed a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. He was happy to provide it, but it happened all the time, and it was exhausting to deal with. Trying to be the troll that not just John Dory, but also all the others, wanted him to be was exhausting, and that exhaustion easily turned into anger.
Bruce didn't want to be angry. He didn't want to keep trying and failing his brothers. He was too worked up to be what any of them wanted him to be. He told himself that if he went on this vacation and just let himself relax then he could calm down and be better for his family.
He met Brandy during his third week on Vacay Island. She had been a cook at the restaurant he was eating at, and she was completely swamped with work. All of her coworkers were gone including the waiters, so she had to make the food, serve it, and take orders.
It didn't matter that people weren't usually stressed on Vacay Island. Even at the best place in the world if one person is being asked to do too much, they're going to stumble and fall.
Bruce recognized somebody on their way to a breakdown. He didn't want that for anybody, least of all because he didn't know if Vacay Island had the same toxic positivity that was going on in the tree. He hadn't known Brandy back then, but he had known that she didn't deserve to be shunned or judged just because there had been too many things asked of her.
Bruce volunteered to help out. Brandy had been a little snappy, and he wasn't the best worker, but with him taking care of the customers she could focus on the food. It had been a long and stressful day for both of them, but when it was over they went to the beach and just relaxed together.
After that night, Bruce knew that he wasn't going to leave the island. He loved the culture too much, and the more he got to know Brandy the more he knew that he didn't want to leave her side.
Bruce's plan of staying for no more than a month was out the window. He got a job at the same place where Brandy worked. They spent all of their days off together, just talking and getting to know each other. Neither of them really knew when they officially started dating. It just sort of happened.
Twenty years later Bruce loved his life on Vacay Island just as much as he had back then. This was his home, and he wouldn't have it any other way. The only thing he might change was that he missed his brothers. He would love for them to be part of his life, but he wasn't the same person now as he had been back then. Would they even want him now?
He told himself they were all fine. John Dory was probably happier now that he didn't have little brothers to constantly take care of. Maybe Clay had stayed with his friends until he could figure out who he was. And Baby Branch and Floyd had probably thrived under Grandma's care. She could give them the attention and love that Bruce and John Dory couldn't.
Sometimes Bruce saw their family as a happily divorced couple. Still a family who cared about each other, but who were ultimately happier and better off loving each other from a distance.
By now Bruce had come to terms with the fact that he probably wouldn't see his brothers again. He had invited them to come to his wedding, because as much as he fought with them he still loved them. They were still his brothers, and it was heartbreaking that none of them had come to, or acknowledged, his wedding.
He hadn't heard from any of them since he had left. He had thought about going to look for them, but he had Brandy, and the kids, and the restaurant to think about, and it just wasn't realistic to go on a wild goose-chase to look for his brothers who probably wanted nothing to do with him anyway.
So Bruce was surprised, and incredibly anxious, when Brandy pulled him aside one evening after his sunset surf to tell him that two of his brothers were here.
"Wait a second, you mean they're here?" Bruce felt both twenty years younger and ten years older at the news. "Who? Where?" He looked around, half expecting to see his brothers just down the hall or sitting in a pool. He was excited, but also cautious. He wanted to see his brothers, but why would they come here after all this time?
"Oh, I don't know which brothers." Brandy said apologetically. "One of them was a little hard to see. He stayed in his hair. The other one had green hair."
So one of them was either John Dory or Clay. Bruce felt bad that he desperately hoped for one option above the other. He loved all his brothers, but it was hard to not be cautious about John Dory after the bad terms they left on. Maybe if John Dory was the only one there then the two of them could talk like adults, but the second one of their younger brothers was involved they would probably jump right into fighting. That was how it had always gone when they were kids.
Bruce took a deep breath and tried to not get his hopes up that it would be Clay there. Just because he would prefer a specific brother didn't mean that he should let his disappointment show if the other was there instead.
"Okay, I'll go talk to them." Bruce said. He both looked forward to and dreaded this reunion.
"Just one more thing." Brandy sounded a little nervous, and it made Bruce feel nervous himself. She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Maybe I'm just imagining things, but when I was talking to them your brothers seemed scared. They said they were here for something important, so maybe it was just that, but I'm worried that they were scared of me."
Bruce was shocked and horrified at even the suggestion. "Who would be scared of you?" He had always thought that his brothers would love Brandy. She was loving, hard working, but didn't take nonsense from anybody. She didn't let anybody walk all over her.
Brandy gave him a mildly unimpressed look. "I know you're used to being with Vacaytioners, but your brothers aren't. For all we know their only experience with creatures larger than they are is the bergens."
Bruce grimaced. He hadn't been afraid of being hunted or eaten in so long, he had almost forgotten what it felt like. He hadn't even considered how terrifying being here might be for his brothers. He understood it, but he hated the thought of his brothers being afraid of Brandy or even the kids. He wanted his family to be whole.
"It's totally fine if they're scared." Brandy reassured him. "I get it. But if they are scared of us, I want to know. I don't want to make your brothers uncomfortable, and I don't want the kids to know if their uncles are scared of them."
"Yeah, yeah, no." Bruce grimaced. He desperately hoped her guess was wrong. "I'll talk to them."
"Thank you." Brandy leaned down and Bruce gave her cheek a small nuzzle. "They're in the family room in the back."
He gave her a grateful look and steeled himself to go meet his brothers. He went to the back room that was officially the break room, but unofficially the kid's playroom. It was basically a room in their house that just so happened to not be literally connected to their home.
Bruce stood outside the door for a long longer than he wanted to. He hated how nervous he was. It was just his brothers. They wouldn't bite. And if they tried to start a fight he could easily kick them out. He wasn't an overwhelmed teen anymore.
Bruce opened the door and was ashamed that he relaxed when he saw the chartreuse hair as opposed to teal. Trolls could change their hair color at will, but for the most part they kept their hair the same default color. The color might shift to another hue, or switch to a related color, but it usually stayed relatively the same.
Chartreuse wasn't the vibrant yellow that Bruce remembered Clay having, but it was close enough that he knew that it could only be him.
All of his anxiety vanished at the sight of his favorite brother. Maybe he shouldn't have a favorite brother, but Bruce really couldn't help it. He was closest in age to John Dory, and he used to be closest to him in terms of their relationship, but when John got bossy and obsessive that had fallen apart.
Clay and Bruce had found solidarity in each other. They were the ones that John Dory focused his criticisms on, and they bonded over it. Branch had been too young to understand just how harsh John Dory was, and Floyd cared too much about keeping the peace, and he didn't ever want to hear them say a bad word about their older brother.
Because Bruce and Clay felt like they could only talk to each other, they had a different relationship with each other than they did with the others. Bruce still loved all of his brothers, and he would be excited to see any and all of them, but Clay's presence made him feel more comfortable about it.
"Clay!" Bruce called out. His brother was sitting on the floor instead of one of the many chairs in the room. He quickly got to his feet as soon as he heard Bruce. Clay was grinning broadly, relief and excitement in his eyes.
"Bruce." Clay said in a slightly forced way that made it clear that the name wasn't instinctive, and it was something he had to think about saying and put effort into, and Bruce appreciated that. He had known that his brothers would all probably be cool with his name change, but he had mentally prepared himself for there to be an adjustment period. After all, he'd been 'Spruce' to them their whole lives. That wasn't the kind of thing that mentally corrected quickly.
"Bro!" Bruce strode over to him. He held a hand out to pull Clay to his feet, and he quickly pulled him into a hug as well. "It's so good to see you. I've missed you guys so much."
"Missed you too." Clay clung to him, and Bruce realized that something was wrong. Between his brothers and his kids, Bruce had had many different types of hugs in his life, and he could tell a difference between them. There were the excited hugs when somebody just had so much energy and felt the intense need to squeeze something. None of his brothers hugged like that, but three of his kids did.
There were the 'fun' hugs. Those were usually quick, and sometimes just with one arm. That was how Clay and sometimes John Dory liked to hug. Most of Bruce's kids hugged this way.
There was the strong hug. Bruce's favorite. Where he would just engulf the recipient and give them an affectionate squeeze. John Dory used to like those, but only when he was on the receiving end. Some of Bruce's older kids liked to try to hug like this, and it was always followed by a gentle reminder that Daddy was a lot smaller than they were, and they needed to be a little careful with him.
And then there were sad hugs, where one or both parties wanted a shield to hide them from whatever was hurting them. That was how Floyd used to hug, and it was how Clay was hugging him now. Something was wrong, and Bruce had the feeling that it was more than just the fact that he missed him.
Bruce tightened his grip on Clay, holding him as protectively as he could. He didn't know what was wrong, but as a big brother he was promising to take care of him.
"What's wrong?" Bruce whispered. He'd gotten in the habit of asking this question quietly when it really mattered, because he knew his kids could get very embarrassed if their siblings knew they were upset. If the kid needed to talk he'd take them somewhere private.
Clay let out a slow breath. "So much. There's so much, and I don't know how to deal with it."
"Well, let's take this one step at a time." Bruce said. Having brothers had helped prepare him for having kids, and now the strategies he used for his children was helping him deal with his brothers. "What's the most urgent problem?"
At one time he had asked what was the most important problem, because he wanted to tackle the root of the real problem. It didn't take him long to realize that trying to take on the biggest problem could be overwhelming for both him and his kids. So Bruce decided that the first step would be to take on the small problem that had pushed the kid over the edge. After that was taken care of, Bruce's kids were usually calmer and more ready to actually deal with the real problem.
Clay pulled away from Bruce, brushing at his eyes. He wasn't quite crying yet, but he was getting there. "Uh…" He looked behind him at the purple glass bottle he had been leaning against. That thing was massive. A troll could easily fit inside of there. At second glance Bruce realized that was exactly what was happening. There was a ball of what looked like troll hair.
"Floyd won't come out." Clay said. "It doesn't matter how many times I promise he's okay, and that I'll keep him safe, he's still scared. He's still hiding."
Bruce frowned slightly. "And unless he's sleeping, he can still hear you." He gave Clay a mildly scolding look. "You know that just because he has a hard time talking about what's wrong doesn't mean he appreciates someone else talking about it for him." Floyd used to get frustrated when one of them would try to assume what was wrong and speak for him.
Clay's mouth thinned and he threw his arms out in frustration. "Being in his hair like that for this long isn't good for him, but he won't listen to me."
"I'll talk to him." Bruce said. He put an arm around Clay's shoulder and turned him towards the door. "You need to chill out, bro. Why don't you go out? Watch the sunset. Take a walk on the shore. Relax, come back with a cooler head, and we'll talk about everything."
Clay didn't look happy, but he also looked relieved. That was a familiar expression from him. As a kid he had never liked when his 'big brothering', wasn't good enough, and he had always felt like he should be better. But he was always happy to let Bruce or John Dory take over as soon as they volunteered to.
"...Five minutes." Clay said. He looked at the bottle. "I swear that's all I'll be gone for, okay? I'm coming back." Bruce didn't entirely understand why he was specifying that. Of course he was coming back. They were on an island. Where would he go?
Unless Clay and Floyd were absolutely terrified of the Vacaytioners, in which case this wasn't a promise that he would return, but that he'd return alive. Bruce needed to remember to talk to his brothers about the fact that the Vacaytioners weren't like the bergens.
First though he had a little brother he needed to get through to.
Clay left the room, and Bruce turned his full attention to Floyd. "That's some pretty cool hair." Bruce said. He wasn't used to seeing trolls with multiple colors at once, but Floyd had always had a unique sense of style. He used to like to rip up his pants and pretend that he had just fallen and it was an accident. It had taken Bruce a long time to realize that Floyd wasn't being clumsy or bullied, he was just expressing himself, but he was too scared to say as much.
Bruce had always complimented Floyd's style choices, because he knew how good it felt to know that other people thought you looked good. Bruce had been the one who had helped him make a clip-on earring that didn't pinch his ear. And when Floyd was a little older and had worked up the nerve, Bruce was the one who had taken him to get his ear pierced.
Seeing Floyd with two-tone hair was interesting, and it wasn't the type of thing that Bruce would ever want for himself, but he was still going to encourage his brother. Bruce's concern for Floyd skyrocketed when his brother let out a loud wail, which he quickly tried to stifle. That wasn't a relieved or happy sob because Floyd was grateful for the validation. That was a heartbreaking cry of raw pain.
"Loy-loy?" Bruce said quietly. "You okay?"
Floyd uncurled from his hair, only to start pulling at it painfully, growing and crying as he did so. Bruce felt sick at the sight. His little brother was hurting, and he was hurting himself, however minimally. And Bruce felt like this was his fault. He'd said the wrong thing when trying to comfort his brother. It was far from the first time he'd done something like this, but it didn't get any easier.
Somehow John Dory was the only one who never accidentally said the wrong thing and upset Floyd even more. John Dory was the master at saying the wrong thing, but apparently never to Floyd. It was infuriating, and it left Bruce feeling like a failure. He was supposed to be the one who gave comfort to his brothers when John Dory wasn't nearly enough, but he couldn't do that for Floyd.
Bruce didn't know what he had said to upset Floyd so much, and he was scared of saying anything more and making it even worse. But it felt wrong to just sit here and watch Floyd cry. He couldn't even hug him, because he was in that bottle and Bruce was alarmed to see that it was locked. Was Floyd a prisoner?
That was something that needed to be addressed, but not yet. First and foremost Bruce needed to calm Floyd down before he made himself sick or something. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened.
Not knowing what else to do, Bruce started singing. He sang a lullaby that John Dory used to sing to them when they were sick. Bruce had never figured out if it was a song that his brother had written or not.
He hadn't sang this song for years, and he had forgotten some of the words, but he just hummed or sang 'la' when that happened. Floyd was still crying by the end of the song, but his gasping sobs were occasionally interrupted with an off-key hum. Singing always made Floyd feel better. He wasn't quite there yet, but he was getting there.
Bruce just sang the song again, quieter and sweeter this time around. Floyd hummed along a bit more. It wasn't the prettiest sound, but Bruce was happy to hear it because if Floyd was singing or humming along then he wasn't as panicked. At least, that was the hope.
Bruce sang through the lullaby a total of five times before Floyd fell asleep, having exhausted himself. Bruce gave him a sad look. He hated when Floyd cried himself to sleep,, but he had never figured out how to talk to his little brother when he was this upset. The best he could do was get him to go to sleep, knowing that he would be calmer when he woke up.
Bruce sighed and reluctantly stepped away from the bottle. He wanted to know what was going on. Floyd had been too upset to talk about it, but now that he was asleep he could finally get some answers from Clay.
Bruce walked out of the room and was surprised and a little disappointed to see Clay waiting just outside. He looked drained and upset, and that completely defeated the purpose of sending him out to relax.
"I thought you were going to calm down." Bruce said.
"I couldn't leave him." Clay said. He probably hadn't even gone down the hall. "Is he okay?"
"He's asleep." Bruce said. That was all he could say. "What happened?"
Clay rubbed his wrists. "I don't even know. He's stuck in that bottle. I don't know how he got in there, but he told me that he was stuck because he couldn't be 'perfect'."
Bruce grimaced at the word. He and Brandy didn't really believe in 'bad words' that they were going to try to forbid their kids from using. Brandy had grown up in a home where so much focus was put on specific words, as opposed to the meaning behind them, and she didn't want that for her kids. Bruce, who had experience with seemingly innocent words being used in a toxic way, had agreed. One of the only words that they didn't want their kids to ever use was 'perfect'. Bruce just didn't like the pressure and expectations that came with it.
"Since when does Floyd care about being perfect?" Bruce asked.
"If I can guess, since he reunited with John Dory." Clay growled. There was anger and fear in his eyes. "I didn't recognize Floyd at first. I just knew that he was a troll that said he was running away from his brothers. Later I saw John Dory and Branch looking for Floyd and arguing about the Perfect Family Harmony."
Bruce felt like he was missing a lot, but between Clay's words and his clear anxiety it was easy to figure out what he was trying to put together.
"You think John's responsible for this?" Bruce didn't know whether to be shocked or scared of the very possibility.
"I don't know." Clay said desperately. "All I know is that Floyd ran from our brothers for a reason. He can't get out of the bottle for a reason. And I didn't want to take the chance that the reason is John Dory."
Clay's eyes were wet. Bruce pulled him into a hug again, and Clay leaned against him, clutching at him desperately. "I don't want to think that Johnny could ever hurt Floyd, but…but twenty years is a long time. Maybe he's changed for the better, but what if he changed for the worse? What if he's hurting our little bros?"
Bruce felt his blood go cold. "What do you mean hurt? Floyd is hurt?"
"His legs are messed up." Clay said. "I don't know how bad they are, but he has a hard time even standing on them." Bruce felt nauseous. How could he not even notice Floyd's condition? How were they supposed to get him the treatment he needed if they couldn't get him out of a bottle.
"He's hurt, and he still ran away from our brothers." Bruce couldn't imagine how much pain Floyd was in, both physically and mentally. A moment later he realized what he had said. "Wait a second. Brothers? You saw Branch?" Despite this whole situation he found himself excited at the thought of his baby brother. He hadn't seen his little brother since he was a baby, even younger than his kids were now. "How is he?"
Clay frowned slightly as he thought about something that he had specifically not been thinking about. "He was angry. He seemed to be fighting John Dory just as much as the two of us used to. And I think…I think he might have gone Gray."
That was not what Bruce wanted to hear. "Our baby brother is Gray?" How could they have let that happen? He was supposed to be better without his fighting brothers around, not worse. "And you left him with John Dory even though you think he might have hurt Floyd?"
"I panicked." Clay said defensively. "I-I wasn't thinking about Branch. He seemed fine, and Floyd wasn't. I had to focus on him. I-I had to." Clay was sounding worked up now, and Bruce felt bad for questioning him. He knew how hard it was to make decisions on the spot as a big brother. It felt like there were no good choices, there were just bad decisions and ones that were slightly less bad.
"Hey, you did good." Bruce said sincerely. "Floyd's going to be just fine." He was worried about Branch, but Clay was right. Floyd was the one who needed their immediate help. And if Floyd really had run from John Dory, and if he was still half as obsessed as he'd been as a kid, then he would be coming after him.
John Dory and Branch would be coming here. Bruce was a little nervous about having all of his brothers here, but at least it would give them all the chance to get to the bottom of what was going on.
Bruce didn't know if he was actually ready to have his brothers be in his life again. Not all at once, and definitely not like this. But he wasn't just going to send them on their way. No matter how overwhelmed he was about them, they were still his brothers and he still loved them. If they needed him right now, then he was here for them.
He just wished that, for once, they could get along and stop hurting each other. Was that really too much to ask for?
