Floyd wondered if he would ever not feel the need to run. He was always able to find a way to justify it to himself, and this time he really did think that running was for the best, but that didn't change the fact that he was still running away.
Floyd didn't actually think that Velvet and Veneer were chasing him. Maybe they had at first, but he thought they might have given up by now. They liked to work smarter, not harder, and going after a creature who was so much smaller than them when they had no idea where he could have gone wasn't exactly the smartest move.
They wouldn't know that he had help and transportation. They had probably searched Mount Rageous as much as they could, but there would have been plenty of holes and crevices that they were too big to look into, and if they looked too hard for him then all of their fans would eventually start to notice that they were acting weirdly.
Velvet would care about keeping up appearances, so they would go on like nothing was wrong. She would still want Floyd back, but looking for a single troll that would not be of use to her for much longer just wouldn't be worth it.
Floyd suspected that Velvet had some lip-synching plans for their big concert, just in case. They had their songs all recorded. She and Veneer could act like everything was normal at least until the Lifer Award. That would buy them a few more days at the very least until Velvet and Veneer would even think of leaving the city.
What Floyd was worried about was what might happen after. He knew from experience that a lot of performers would put so much work, time, and effort into a big show or presentation, and when it was all over they needed some time off. It wasn't unusual for a performer to go off the grid completely for a week or two after a big event. Velvet and Veneer could easily say that they needed some privacy to work on their next big project, and then go out to look for Floyd or get another troll, and nobody would be any wiser.
So while Floyd could safely say that Velvet and Veneer weren't currently after him, he couldn't say that it would last. So when Viva suggested that her people would be safer without the potential threat looming over their heads, Floyd had agreed, and he'd left without any fight or argument. He wasn't going to put anybody else in danger.
So Floyd rolled away from the golf course, knowing that he was doing something right, but still feeling like he could do so much better. He tried not to think about it too much, because he thought that if he did then he would start crying, and if he was crying while trying to roll around in a way that he was still very unfamiliar with then he would actually make himself sick.
Moving around in the bottle was difficult. Momentum was the key, and that was difficult to get when he was trying to push at the bottle while rolling around like a ball that just wanted to bounce off of everything. Floyd wasn't going anywhere quickly, and after half an hour of trying he had barely made it out of sight of the lights of the golf course.
He wanted to put some more distance between him and his brothers, because he knew they were following him and he just couldn't bring himself to face them yet. Maybe after a good night's sleep, when he had time to calm down and think straight he'd feel ready to talk to them, but right now it just felt like too much. He couldn't travel anymore though. Rolling around was just making him dizzy, and he didn't dare use his legs again.
So Floyd just found some cover under a bush. Feeling at least a little safe and hidden from the world, Floyd curled up on the ground, wrapped his hair around himself like a cocoon or blanket, and tried to get some sleep.
Floyd dreamed. Something that he didn't experience too much. He used to have dreams regularly as a child, but that was when he had a soft bed and a safe home. Since leaving it was a lot harder to find somewhere comfortable and secure to get a truly sound sleep. He still dreamed, but not as vividly and nowhere near as often.
Maybe it was because of his exhaustion, or the relief of getting away from his captors and seeing some of his brothers again, but Floyd slept soundly and he had a dream that started off pleasant enough.
He was in Pop Village, though in his dream it just looked like the Troll Tree had, because that was what Floyd remembered home to be. He and his brothers were young again, dancing around their living room and singing. They weren't practicing for their concert or trying to achieve the Perfect Family Harmony. They were just having fun, and it was the closest thing to perfect that Floyd thought his family had ever been.
But soon the dream shifted. One second they were all just singing because they wanted to, but then Floyd's voice cracked painfully and his legs went numb so suddenly that they buckled beneath him. He fell to the ground with a wince, staring at his hands. They had a crystal, nearly translucent look to them. Were they supposed to be like that? It was so hard to tell if he could even feel them or not.
Earlier in his dream when one of them stumbled or made a mistake they would all laugh in a good-natured way and help each other up. That didn't happen this time. Instead Floyd heard Branch scoff and Clay groan in annoyance. He looked up to see John Dory frowning at him in that all-too familiar disappointment. John used to constantly look that way when everything started to fall apart, though Floyd couldn't remember it stinging quite this much. He felt like his world was falling apart around him.
"Come on, Bro, we need to keep practicing." John Dory said in a tone that wasn't quite scolding and wasn't quite encouraging. "We're supposed to be better than this. Why are you stumbling on the easiest move?"
"S-sorry." Floyd tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn't move at all. He couldn't even twitch his toes. He was stuck and absolutely terrified. He looked at his brothers with wide, pleading eyes. He didn't know if he wanted help, comfort, or encouragement. All he knew was that he needed his brothers.
They didn't move to help him. There wasn't any sympathy in their eyes. There wasn't even anger either. They just looked indifferent, and that hurt even more. Floyd was used to his brothers' anger. He'd dealt with it all during his childhood. What he couldn't take was their dismissal. That was worse than anything.
"I'm trying." Floyd said. His voice made him sound small and vulnerable, and he couldn't tell if he was just that pathetic or if his voice had shifted to the way it had been when he was a child. "I promise I'm trying my best, but I can't-"
"Well, your best just isn't good enough." John Dory said plainly, like he was just stating a fact. He turned away from Floyd, facing Branch and Clay instead. "Come on, let's get back to practice. He can join us when he's calmed down and grown up." The three of them walked away, leaving Floyd all alone.
Nothing else happened in the dream. Floyd just sat in his childhood home, crying and wailing, begging for his brothers to come back. He would take them yelling at or scolding him. He just needed them.
He didn't notice when he woke up, because he was still curled up and crying. Whether awake or asleep that part didn't change. But there was one big thing that let him know that he was away from the nightmare.
"Floyd." A familiar, gentle, and concerned voice said. Floyd flinched slightly before he forced himself to relax and look. He peeked out of his hair and saw Clay standing outside the diamond. His hands were pressed against the bottle. "Hey, baby bro." Clay said. Floyd felt like he should feel offended and patronized. Clay's tone and what he had called him made it clear that he was looking at Floyd and he saw someone who needed to be taken care of.
Floyd was an adult. He'd been taking care of himself just fine since he was young. He should be too independent to tolerate this treatment, but he actually longed for it. Floyd couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like he could trust anybody to take care of him. He was so tired. He wanted to let go, just for a little bit. He didn't want to be alone.
"C-Clay." Floyd's voice shook and fell into an embarrassing whine. He felt like such a child, but Clay gave no judgment.
"It's okay." Clay said comfortingly. "You're okay. I'm not going anywhere."
And even though Floyd had been the one to run away from his brothers, including Clay, those words were like music to his ears. His nightmare, simple and unrealistic as it had been, was still fresh in his mind.
"Promise?" Floyd asked quietly. He tried to push himself up and put his hands against the bottle to mirror Clay's, but his legs still felt a little numb. It wasn't anywhere as bad as before, and Floyd would probably be able to stand just fine, but he was scared to try. A part of his mind was still in the dream.
"I promise." Clay said. His eyes were sad. "I'm sorry Viva chased you away. She has a lot of issues, and-"
"It's okay." Floyd said quickly, because it was. "She was right. I-"
"She was not right." Clay scowled. "If you're in danger then you need help, not for someone to send you away." Clay took a deep breath. "I'd understand if you didn't want me around, but it's not safe for you to be alone right now, and-"
"Why wouldn't I want you around?" Floyd tilted his head slightly.
Clay looked to the side. He looked angry again. "I left. I tried so hard for years to not even think of any of you. Y-you were being hurt, and I was just hiding away pretending you didn't even exist."
"You're too hard on yourself." Floyd said. He had always thought so, about all his brothers. "You didn't know."
"But I should have." Clay looked at him, a wide and sad look in his eyes. "You're my baby brother. It's my job to take care of you."
Floyd snorted. "I thought Branch was the baby."
"You were my baby bro for longer than he was." Clay said. Floyd didn't think that was how it worked. He wasn't going to argue with Clay about it though. He'd never been able to win arguments against Clay. Even if he could, he didn't know if he would want to. At least right now, he kinda liked being called that. He liked hearing the clear affection in his tone.
"You don't need to take care of me." Floyd said somewhat reluctantly, because he felt like he needed to. He wanted to know his brothers cared, but he was scared that they would just resent him again if they only stuck around out of obligation. And then Floyd felt guilty for doubting them. He knew in his head that his brothers wouldn't do that. They had made it clear that if they didn't want to be around, they wouldn't be. But his heart still had its doubts and fears.
Clay gave him a pained look. "Yes, I do. And not because we just so happen to be brothers. Because I care about you, and I missed you, and I have to take care of those that I care about." And Floyd understood.
"Okay." Floyd said, and the relief in Clay's eyes at his agreement was enough to get rid of any lingering doubts. They would probably come back later, they always did, but right now Floyd was just happy to have a brother at his side.
"So, where are we going?" Clay asked. "Any destination in mind, or just away?"
"I didn't really think about it." Floyd said. He didn't think he would stay gone. Sooner rather than later he would probably go running back to John Dory and Branch. "I just need a little break."
Clay crossed his arms, thinking carefully. After a long moment a smile crept onto his face. Floyd knew that look in his eyes. He had a plan. Clay actually had a similar plotting expression as John Dory did, though Floyd wasn't going to say as much. That would be the fastest way to get Clay mad and leave him.
"So you're saying you need a vacation." Clay said pointedly. Floyd felt like he meant more than he was saying.
"What?" Floyd frowned slightly in confusion. Clay just smiled at him.
"What do you think about finding Spruce?" Clay asked. "Because I'm going to be here to help you with whatever you need, but there's only so much I can do by myself. I think we need a big brother."
Floyd smiled to himself. He would love to see Spruce again. He wanted all of his brothers. He knew it was probably too much to ask that they all get along, but he still wanted to see them. Clay and Spruce had always gotten along great with each other. Maybe there wouldn't be any fighting for Floyd to have to be the mediator for. Maybe he could just let himself be the little brother.
He couldn't really remember the last time he could just let be the little brother.
"Do you know where to find him?" Floyd asked.
"I've got an idea." Clay said. "That night, before we parted ways, Spruce mentioned that he was going to finally go to that island that he was always keeping that picture of. Apparently it wasn't too far from Bergen Town."
Floyd made an odd face. "It's been twenty years. Do you really think he'll still be there?"
"He might be." Clay said. "If he got married there, maybe he decided to settle down and stay there. If not, we can ask the locals. I can't imagine trolls were a common clientele there. Maybe someone will remember a troll getting married there."
Floyd felt like his brain had shut down. He couldn't understand more than just one of those keywords. "What do you mean married?" That was a pretty big assumption to jump to.
Clay brushed his question aside. "The invitation was a postcard from that island." Clay paused, giving Floyd a confused and concerned look. Floyd imagined that he looked as overwhelmed and bordering on panicked as he felt. He had never been very good at hiding his emotions. "What's wrong?"
"...Spruce got married?" Floyd asked, his voice shaking. "He…he invited you?"
"Of course he did." Clay said. "I didn't end up going. Me and Viva thought it was too risky, but…didn't you get an invitation?" Floyd shook his head. He could feel his breathing getting a little harsher. Tears were gathering in his eyes. Clay gave him a pitying look, and that was enough to make the tears fall.
"...Floyd?" Clay's voice cracked slightly. Floyd brought his hands to his face and let out a sob.
"I-I'm sorry." Floyd whined. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize." Clay said sternly. "You…maybe Spruce sent an invitation but it just never found you."
Floyd shook his head. He wanted to hope, but he was far too fragile right now. "O-or maybe he just didn't want me there."
"I don't believe that." Clay said. "Not with you. Spruce never had a problem with you. Never."
"B-but…" Floyd whimpered. He wasn't so sure about that. While the fights had always been between his older brothers, Floyd had frequently blamed himself. He was the sensitive one. He was the one who understood how all of his brothers were feeling. He was supposed to be the one who kept the peace and got his brothers to stop fighting, but his efforts hadn't been good enough. He hadn't been good enough. Maybe Spruce had realized that.
"No." Clay's eyes were burning. "Spruce wants to see you. I promise you that."
"But what if you're wrong?" Floyd asked desperately.
For a long moment Clay looked like he was just going to insist that he wasn't, but eventually he sighed and shook his head. "If I'm wrong, if Spruce really doesn't want you around, then I'll still be right there with you. I'll fight him."
Floyd snorted. "No, you won't."
"Yes, I will." Clay said. "I'll fight anybody, even my big brothers, if it means protecting my baby bro." And he sounded so sure and confident. It was hard not to trust him.
Clay glanced behind him. Nothing was there, but he looked like he was watching for something. "We don't have to go to the island if you don't want to, but I think seeing Spruce will be good for both of us."
Floyd rubbed his legs before he nodded. He was hurt and scared, but he really did want to see Spruce. Even if it was just from a distance. He didn't have to talk to him. Floyd just needed to know that his big brother was okay and happy. Floyd would gladly stay trapped in the bottle if it meant his family was okay.
Clay gave him a proud look, as though Floyd's simple agreement was anything to be proud of. "Roll up into a ball. I'll get us where we need to go." Floyd nodded and curled up. He felt the bottle start rolling as Clay pushed it along. It wasn't a smooth ride, but Floyd's hair protected him from any impact as he bounced and rolled in the bottle in a way that was surprisingly gentle.
"Nobody's going to hurt you anymore." Clay said as they went. "They'll have to get past me if they want to even try." Floyd didn't know what Clay could do against someone like Velvet or Veneer. Still, he found himself trusting him. His big brother always seemed to know what he was talking about. He was definitely smarter than Floyd was. If Clay said he was safe, then it just had to be true.