Signal For Help: Part Three (The Signal)

Author's Note: Ooooo here we go! This one is a little short, just because of the way I had to split the last two chapters, but oh wellllllll. Next one's probably going to be super long tho. Also, last POV shift, let's go! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. This one was hard to write, and I'm like man, this poor dude. But at least he's… kinda? choosing to do the right thing?

Thank you all for your sweet comments on the last chapter! It really makes my day, knowing you guys love this story as much as I do!

Branch watched apprehensively as Bruce climbed out of Rhonda, a grim look on his face.

"He's not inside." His brother said in a low voice, without really needing to. Branch could have told him that. He had a feeling he wouldn't be there.

He scanned the edge of the clearing, where he'd just spent several minutes looking for any sign of John Dory, but there was nothing. No footprints, no broken branches, nothing that suggested anyone had even been here, let alone left. It was as if he'd just… vanished. Which wasn't completely surprising, considering how adept his brother was at moving stealthily through the woods. But it frustrated Branch nonetheless. John Dory had managed to track him through a raging storm, to that stupid cave out in the middle of nowhere all those weeks ago. Why couldn't he do the same?

Branch could feel his shoulders beginning to shake, so he forced himself to take a deep breath. In, and out…

Floyd pet Rhonda gently, comforting himself while also whispering soft reassurances to the large critter. When they first got here, she'd seemed incredibly agitated, continuously pacing and looking out towards the woods, where Branch assumed John Dory had gone. Floyd had finally managed to calm her down, but she still let out worried whines every so often, her eyes darting across to the treeline.

His ears perked up as Bruce walked over, looking even more worried as he came to stand by Branch. "He wouldn't just leave." His brother seemed to try and assure him, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself. But Branch nodded tightly nonetheless, eyes drifting off to the side to where Clay had gone.

His gaze settled on John Dory's new pod, the colors darkening in the fading light. Clay was standing in the doorway, having insisted he was going to go check it out, despite Branch's own insistence that their brother wouldn't be there. Branch felt a heavy feeling settle in his gut as he stared at the pod, eyes narrowed. He was missing something, he knew it. Something had set his brother off. He was worried it might have been something about the pod, but now, it felt like much more than that.

From the fragments of information he'd gleaned from Bruce and Floyd's frantic rambling and everything that happened with Clay, it seemed like it was something much, much deeper than anything they'd ever talked about before. And that scared him. He had just started to feel like he could understand his brother, help him like so many other trolls had done for him. Like John Dory had done for him. But now, he was coming up blank. He was missing something.

Branch's eyes slowly drifted down to Clay, who was still standing in the doorway. As he looked at him, he realized that something didn't seem quite right. There was something off about his brother's stance, a tenseness that seemed to transfer over to Branch's own body.

"Clay?" he called, anxiety building in his chest as he quickly strode over to the wild-haired troll. Clay didn't acknowledge him, instead continuing to stare into the pod, a horrified look on his face. Branch walked to his side, Bruce and Floyd coming to join them, and together, they all took in the disturbing scene.

Pictures of him and his brothers lay scattered across the floor, along with what looked like a shattered mirror, the glass sparkling in the light of the setting sun. That would have been worrying enough by itself, but there was something else too. Something that sent a chill down Branch's spine.

Blood. It wasn't much, but it was there. A few drops of red, a few smears across the dark wood floor. Branch felt his heart begin to race, his mind starting to swirl as he took in the scene.

He heard Floyd let out a gasp, his brother covering his mouth with shaky hands. Clay had gone completely pale, looking as if he were about two seconds away from his legs giving out on him and collapsing. Branch couldn't blame them; the icy dread that shot through his veins made his blood run cold.

Bruce stepped forward, gently pulling Clay away from the doorway before going back to herd both Branch and Floyd back. He then stepped inside, carefully grabbing one of the photos, stained slightly with their brother's blood. Slivers of glass trickled off, falling to the floor as he held it. "Holy crap, John…" he whispered, eyes wide with alarm.

Branch felt his hands clench into fists, panic really beginning to set in. Memories of shattered mirrors and broken glass seemed to flash across his mind. Memories of forced smiles, tired eyes, shaky voices, and panicked breaths. And suddenly, he felt like a little kid again. He needed his brother.

Where are you, John Dory?

John Dory was breathing heavily, forcing himself to continue walking as he staggered towards the clearing. He'd thought about going straight to Branch's bunker, but decided that maybe wasn't the best idea. He felt completely out of it right now, both physically and mentally. Maybe he could just sit by Rhonda for a while, just until his head stopped spinning…

He reached the edge of the clearing, just about to break through the treeline, when he paused, ears flicking up. Was that… voices? He squinted, his vision swimming ever so slightly. There… There was movement, over by his pod. He blinked in muted shock as recognition flashed across his foggy mind.

It was his brothers. Not just Branch, not even just Branch and Clay. It was all of them. They were all here. But that wasn't right… Bruce and Floyd were supposed to be on Vacay Island. Why were they here? John Dory shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz from his brain. It didn't help.

No, no no no, he couldn't do this… Why were they all here? It was too much. He should just go, he should just–

"We have to find him!"

Clay's voice rang out across the clearing, his brother pacing across the grass as his eyes flicked anxiously back and forth. "We have to go out and look for him, or form a search party, or something! It's not safe out there!"

"He's a survivalist, Clay." He heard Bruce reply, his voice shaking slightly. "He knows the woods better than anyone."

"He's hurt!" Clay insisted, desperation crawling into his voice. "He's out there alone, going troll knows where; he's going to get himself killed!"

"I know!" Bruce yelled back, his composure breaking slightly. He seemed to draw himself back a bit, taking a deep breath. "I know, Clay, I know, ok, I…" He scanned around the clearing, eyes wide with a fear John Dory did not often associate with his laid-back younger brother. "W-we just have to think. He can't have gotten far."

"I shouldn't have let him leave!" Floyd cried, desperately trying to wipe tears from his eyes with one hand as his other arm wrapped tight around himself. "I should have stopped him! He needs us! He can't be alone right now, he can't!"

"Floyd, I told you, this isn't your fault," Bruce replied, his voice strained.

"He's right, Floyd," Clay chimed in with a growl, still pacing as his eyes flashed with anger and guilt. "If I hadn't yelled at him in the first place, he'd still be here! If anyone's to blame, it's me and my stupid frickin' mouth!"

"Clay!" Bruce snapped in exasperation, but John Dory could tell even he was starting to get more and more worked up. "This isn't helping, ok? We just need to think for a second, I just… I mean Rhonda's still here, so he can't have gotten far, right? He's gotta be around here somewhere…"

They were upset… John Dory blinked slowly, his brothers' voices becoming quiet and muffled as his ears began to ring. He grabbed onto a nearby tree, feeling his body sway. They were upset, and it was his fault. If he hadn't run away, if he was just… better, this wouldn't be happening. The guilt that surged through him almost caused him to topple over.

Finally, his eyes landed on Branch, who had his back mostly towards him, standing a few steps behind where his brothers were still going back and forth. The younger troll was quiet, arms locked at his sides, hands curled into tight fists. His face wrinkled into a grimace, staring unseeing at the ground as his body trembled ever so slightly. John Dory knew that look. He knew it all too well…

John Dory pushed himself off the tree, forcing himself to move forward out of the foliage, his steps slow and silent. He needed to make this right. He needed to fix this. His brothers were scared. They were scared because of him. Branch was scared because of him. This was all his fault. Why was he here again? He should go…

No… he thought, gritting his teeth. You have to do this. You have to. They need you. You cannot run away again. I won't let you. His gaze locked on Branch, refusing to take his eyes off his little brother.

Branch looked so scared. John Dory couldn't help but picture his brother when he was much, much younger. He needed to comfort him, he had to tell him it was ok…

He's going to hate you… A voice whispered in his head. They're all going to hate you. They'd be better off without you.

John Dory felt his vision beginning to tunnel, more and more black spots dancing at the edge of his view. But he stubbornly willed himself to keep moving. He had to do this. He couldn't leave them…

You're just going to mess this up again, the voice insisted. You need to leave. You're the reason they're not happy. It's not like they'll want you around anyways. Just leave.

I can't… John Dory thought back, setting his jaw tight as his head continued to swirl. He couldn't be like his dad. He refused to be like his dad.

Branch was scared. John Dory had to comfort him. He had to tell him it was ok. He needed him. He needed…

John Dory paused, just a few steps behind his little brother. Branch hadn't noticed him yet. This actually might have been the first time John Dory had ever managed to sneak up on the perceptive young troll.

It's not too late… the voice continued to hiss. You should leave while you still have the chance.

John Dory bit his cheek, growing more and more dizzy by the second. No, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He had to do this. He didn't want to be like his dad. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He didn't want to be scared anymore. He needed…

He slowly lifted his hand, hesitating for just a moment. As soon as he did this, everything would change. There'd be no going back to the way things used to be. His perfect life would shatter. Break, just like him. His brothers would finally see him as he truly was: sad, gray, and broken… A mess that could never be fixed. A failure. And they may decide that he's just not worth the effort. Just like he had.

But he had to do this. For them. He promised.

John Dory blinked the spots from his eyes, feeling as if everything was moving in slow motion. Then finally, he reached out, gently touching his brother's shoulder.

Branch nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping around in a panic. His eyes landed on John Dory, recognition flashing across his face, before melting into a look of relief. But it didn't last long. Quickly, the relief turned into confusion, then into shock, then into horror as he gazed up and down John Dory's body. He could only imagine what he looked like. It probably wasn't a pretty sight. John Dory could almost feel the shame welling up inside him, but his head was too fuzzy to acknowledge it anymore.

"John…?" Branch breathed, his eyes wide as he looked at his brother. John Dory tried to give him a reassuring smile, but his face wasn't moving right, and he was sure it came out a lot more like a grimace. Why was this so hard? Everything felt numb…

Say something… he thought, swaying on his feet. C'mon, you have to say something! Tell him it's ok! Tell him you're ok!

"Hey, Branch…" he mumbled, so quiet he could barely hear it, the words sounding strange and foreign in his ears. He could hear the voices of his other brothers, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. Everything was starting to sound muffled, his vision tunneling even more. He tried again to smile, but it was like he couldn't move his face anymore. He couldn't move anything anymore. But he needed to do this. He needed to say it. He had to keep his promise. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, his stomach churning with guilt as he looked into his brother's terrified eyes.

Say it! he screamed at himself, willing himself to speak.

It took everything he had, but he forced his lips to move, finally choking out the words he never thought he'd have to hear himself say…

"I think I need help…"

As soon as the words left his mouth, it was like a switch flipped. He felt his body slump forward, his vision darkening as the world swirled around him. He managed to catch one last look at his brother's panicked face before his vision blanked out entirely.

And suddenly, everything was quiet.

Author's Note: Okay, real quick, I was debating the whole "passing out" thing, and I was like, is this too dramatic? But then I just thought about the whole "Because singing killed my grandma" scene and I was like …nah I'm good.