The Putt Putt trolls didn't get many visitors. It was both a blessing and a curse. If nobody could find them, it meant that they were safe from danger. But no visitors led to a very isolating and monotonous experience.

Viva did what she could to liven things up. She encouraged fun and parties to keep spirits up. Clay knew what she did was very important, but his work was also vital. He helped all of the trolls keep busy. He helped them find purpose and fulfillment outside of fear and fun, because life had to be more than two big extremes.

They didn't need to work, because they all just helped each other, but Clay encouraged trolls to have productive hobbies. Not for the sake of having fun, but so that they could all feel useful. Despite what many trolls claimed, Clay didn't think that anybody truly wanted to only ever have fun and do nothing else. It couldn't just be him who laid awake at night, wondering if he was doing enough. Fearing that when he got to the end of his life, would he be content with all he had done? Would he have left the world a better place than when he'd come into it?

Viva didn't really understand, but she supported him. He did the same with her and her parties. He helped set up games and offered supervision during the party itself, even if he didn't participate in the fun. Seeing that things were going smoothly, and knowing that Viva was happy, that was a good enough time for him.

As much as Clay loved Viva, he knew she could be a little much. If she saw they had a visitor she would be all over him, and Clay didn't know whether it would be in suspicion or excitement. Either way, she could be very intense and passionate when it mattered, and Clay didn't think this overwhelmed trapped troll needed that right now.

So Clay would get him to calm down and find out what his story was, and then they could go to Viva.

The pink and white haired troll just sat in his glass prison, crying. Clay sat on the ground next to him, leaning at the glass, just providing his company and comfort. Crying sucked a lot sometimes, but it could also be really cathartic. This guy sounded like he'd been bottling stuff in for so long. He needed to let it out.

Crying while somebody was watching could be humiliating, but it could also feel like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. That was why Clay liked his sad book club. Sometimes he cried about the sad stories. Sometimes he cried about his own sad memories that the books reminded him of. Every once and a while though Clay would just go to the sad book club and not even read. He just cried in the company of others who needed to get their tears out.

Clay was here as a reminder that the trapped troll wasn't alone. He knew he couldn't be a replacement for the brothers that this troll was missing, but Clay also knew that brothers weren't always what they were cracked up to be. He would rather cry in front of his sad book club instead of his brothers any day.

Of course, what Clay really wanted was for his brothers to be a part of his sad book club. He wanted to show them that side of him, and he wanted them to express their feelings in ways that weren't the judgmental yelling that they all fell back on.

Except Floyd. Floyd never yelled. He had just cried without talking about what was wrong. It had driven Clay nuts when he was younger, and he used to come up with every excuse to walk away from his upset little brother and let someone else figure out what was wrong, though more often than not nobody did. Grandma was always busy with the baby. John Dory and Spruce always seemed to be fighting when Floyd cried. Clay had been the only one available to comfort him.

Now that he was older, he wished he had. That was before Clay really got into his sad book club and knew how to deal with the tears of others. If he could go back now, he would sit with Floyd, hold his hand, and tell him it was okay to cry. He would wait for his little brother to calm down, and then they would talk about what was wrong.

But Clay couldn't do that. He'd walked away from his brothers, and he hadn't looked back. He couldn't go back to being the troll he used to be. Forced to hide how he really felt, and getting so mad all the time because of the mental strain of it all.

Clay really was better off without his brothers, but he couldn't help but hope they were okay. He hoped that Branch had grown up knowing he was loved. That Spruce had found someone to break through those walls he put up around his heart. He hoped that Floyd had found someone who didn't run from his tears, but gave him the comfort and support that he'd always deserved.

And Clay even hoped that John Dory was happy. Maybe he'd found himself a new family who could actually give him the perfection he'd always looked for. Maybe he was alone, with no responsibilities for anybody but himself, completely free. Clay didn't really know what exactly he wanted for John Dory, because his oldest brother had never bothered to tell them what he wanted besides perfection. Whatever it was, Clay hoped he'd been able to find it.

He didn't like thinking about his brothers. It made him sad, but not in the cathartic way that his sad book club did. It just made him feel lost, alone, and completely unseen. It also made him mad, and he was so tired of being angry at his brothers.

It had been years since Clay had properly thought of his brothers beyond just a passing thought that he quickly pushed to the side. Sitting here with this troll as he cried brought back memories. Or, it brought up what Clay wished were memories, but knew were just figments of his imagination. He'd never sat like this with Floyd, he just regretted that he hadn't.

Eventually the other troll's tears eased up, at least a little bit. He wasn't bawling anymore. They were just silent tears with the occasional hitched breath.

"Better?" Clay asked.

"A little." The pink and white haired troll said. "Thanks."

"No prob." Clay stood up. The other troll attempted to do the same, but he yelped and collapsed to the ground again, his teeth clenched so hard that it looked painful. Clay realized that there was even more wrong with this troll than being a prisoner.

"Are you okay?" Clay asked urgently. He put his hands against the glass, itching to break the other troll out. He knew some basic first-aid. He wanted to look this troll over properly, because he wasn't sure if the white in his roots was a style choice, and the paleness in his feet and hands definitely wasn't.

"I'm so stupid." The other troll said. He was curled up so tensely that he looked like he was going to hurt himself, clutching at his feet, which were shaking. "I feel like my feet are going to shatter if I put the smallest bit of weight on them."

Clay was concerned and confused. "How did you get here if you can't walk?"

"I can walk." The troll said. "Just…not that much, I guess. I went too far, and now I'm paying for it." Tears started to fall from his eyes again. "What if I messed them up? Like, the pain always comes and goes, and giving them a break usually makes the pain go away, but what if I pushed them too far? What if I did something, and now they're never going to stop hurting, and I'm never going to walk again?" He was getting himself worked up again. If it wasn't clear how much pain this troll was in, and how genuinely scared he was, Clay would be a little amused at how quickly this troll had jumped to the worst-case scenario.

"Well…if your feet aren't okay, you can still get around." Clay said. "Can you move your hair?"

"Uh, I think so." The other troll stretched his hair out, looking relieved when it did what he wanted. It was such a small thing, but the other troll was smiling, and the sight made Clay smile too. "Huh…I guess I can."

"Nice." Clay nodded. "So, you know how parents wrap their kids up in their hair to protect them?"

The other troll was still smiling, though there was a sad hint to it. "My big brother used to do that to me, even when I was probably too big for it."

"Okay, so, our hair can withstand all kinds of blunt force, and what's protected inside isn't impacted at all." Clay said. He sat on the ground again. "So if you hole up in your own hair, it's like a shield, and if you roll up in a ball like so," Clay extended his hair, wrapping it around himself so he was hidden away in a sphere of his own hair. He rolled around before popping out again. "See?"

The other troll curled up tight and did what he was shown, soon becoming a ball himself.

"How does it feel in there?" Clay asked. Some trolls felt claustrophobic in their hair, and he wouldn't be surprised if this troll experienced the same thing. He was stuck in a small glass prison. Making himself more confined than that couldn't be fun.

"...It feels like being in my brother's hair again." The other troll said. He sounded like he was going to start crying again. Not that Clay was going to judge him for it. He seemed like he'd been through a lot.

"Just stay rolled up in there." Clay said. He pushed on the glass to get it moving. "I'll get us somewhere a little more secure so we can talk more." Clay didn't like being out in the open, even if they were in the safety of the golf course. And even if he couldn't treat the other troll's injuries, he wanted to at least have a better look at what was wrong. He wanted to get them in better lighting.

"Why'd you push yourself too hard?" Clay asked as he pushed. It would take a bit to get the other troll to the admin building.

"I was running away." The other troll scoffed.

"From your brothers?" Clay asked. The other troll was quiet. "From the ones who imprisoned you?" The troll still didn't say a word, and Clay was starting to wonder if they were one in the same. Clay couldn't imagine anybody actually going so far as to trap their siblings, but he also knew that brothers sucked. Especially older brothers. Always thinking they knew best.

"I shouldn't have left them." The other troll said quietly. "But I'm scared to go back."

"Why?" Clay asked. He heard the other troll sniffle.

"Because I'm not good enough for them." The other troll said. Clay frowned as he continued pushing.

"From what I can tell, they're the ones that aren't good enough for you." Clay said. The other troll quickly came out of his ball, stumbling a bit and falling to the ground in a painful looking way as Clay didn't stop fast enough. The other troll didn't say a word of complaint. He just glared at Clay through his bangs.

"My brothers are more than good enough for me." The other troll growled. "They're capable of being perfect. I'm the one that screwed everything up."

This was all sounding far too familiar to Clay, and it made him feel sick.

"You don't have to be perfect." Clay said slowly.

"You don't get it." The other troll shook his head.

"Yes, I do." Clay insisted. "I had a big brother who told me if I wasn't happy and fun all the time, if I wasn't perfect, then I was nothing." The other troll started and stared at him in shock. He looked like he'd been slapped. Saying it out loud, it was a reminder of how bad it had been. Clay had thought he was desensitized to it all, but repeating those ugly words made him feel like he was a scared, angry, hurt teenager all over again.

"You…Cl-"

"Clay!" Viva's shout cut through the tension. Clay turned to see her turning towards them. "What's this I hear about a new friend? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry, V." Clay said.

"What's with the bottle?" Viva asked.

"Someone locked him up." Clay said. "I don't know how to get him out, but he needs sanctuary." He expected Viva to enthusiastically embrace the presence of the new troll, but she didn't say that right away. She had a familiar look of worry in her eyes. Clay hated when she looked like that.

She walked over to the glass prison, running her hand over the massive lock. She realized immediately that this small prison had, at the very least, been created by creatures that were far bigger than they were. Clay hadn't really paid attention to the lock. He was too busy thinking about this troll's brothers.

"Who did this?" Viva asked, more seriously than she normally was. Clay wanted to hear what he had to say, but somebody came running towards them, looking a little alarmed.

"Clay, Viva, patrol found outsiders approaching." The Putt Putt troll said. Viva looked at Clay. They had patrols around, just in case. They weren't always watching, because they only had so many trolls who felt comfortable leaving the golf course to patrol the area. Clay thought this was the first time they came back to report more than just a wild animal.

"Clay will take care of them." Viva said. "I want to talk more to our new friend.

Clay didn't want to leave the new troll, but he had a suspicion of who these approaching outsiders were. If they were this troll's brothers, then Clay wanted to see whether they were worried about him or mad that he'd gotten away. When he had all the information, then he could figure out just what needed to be done.

"I'll be back soon." Clay said to the other troll, who looked anxious that he was leaving. "Viva's nice. She'll take good care of you." He then curled up in his hair and rolled off, leaving their sanctuary and heading towards where he knew the patrols would be at this hour.

Clay rolled for about fifteen minutes before he found them. His patrols kept out of sight, sticking to the bushes and shadows as they followed the trolls that seemed to be walking straight towards the mini golf course. The trolls were arguing.

"I didn't 'chase him away'." The darker colored troll said. His colors looked strangely muted.

"I'm just saying, he left after you talked to him." The other said. "And you won't tell me what you guys talked about."

"Yeah, because it's none of your business, John Dory." The muted troll said. Clay felt like his insides froze at that name. Why would John Dory be here after all these years? But he couldn't deny that that was his brother. He still had those stupid goggles, and that stupid tone of voice that made it clear that he thought any opinion that wasn't his was wrong.

"You're my brothers, Branch. That makes it my business." John Dory said.

"Oh, do not start that." Branch snapped as he whirled on John Dory, stopping them both in their tracks. Clay just stared at Branch in shock. That couldn't actually be Bitty B. This muted, practically Gray, angry grown-up troll couldn't possibly be his cute baby brother who was always smiling and happy. It couldn't be.

Branch poked a finger at John Dory's chest. "You walked away from all of us. You have no right to force your way into our lives when you made it clear that you want nothing to do with us." Branch turned and kept walking, leaving John Dory stunned for a long moment before he followed behind. It was too dark to make out either of their expressions.

"We can talk about that stuff later, Branch." John Dory said in a tone that Clay knew all too well. That was how John spoke when he was telling them to run through a song 'one more time', which turned into another dozen run-throughs that he was never completely satisfied with. Clay actually felt nauseous at that tone.

"Right now we need to find Floyd so we can work on achieving the Perfect Family Harmony." John Dory said. "That's all that matters."

Clay's breathing had picked up and he found himself clenching his fists. John Dory was still talking about that stupid Perfect Family Harmony. And Floyd…Floyd.

Clay felt horrified. "I'm going back to warn the others. Finish up your patrol." He told the other trolls. He didn't think that John Dory and Branch were threats to the Putt Putt trolls, but he wasn't so sure about how they might be to Floyd.

Clay rolled him as quickly as he could, desperate to get there before John Dory and Branch did. He needed to talk to Floyd. As he rolled Clay mentally yelled at himself for not recognizing his brother. This was his little bro! So what if it had been twenty years since he had seen him? He was still Floyd.

And apparently John Dory was still John Dory. He still demanded perfection. He still had clearly impossible expectations.

If his older brother hadn't changed at all, that would be annoying enough, but Clay was scared that it was worse than that. He thought it was a very real possibility that John Dory had changed for the worse.

Floyd was now repeating the rhetoric about perfection, even though he'd never bought into it as a child. Something had changed his mind. And Clay hadn't forgotten the sad but honest truth in Floyd's eyes when he'd said that the reason why he was a prisoner in a bottle was because of his own lack of perfection. Floyd had sincerely believed that, and it made Clay want to hug his baby brother, and hit his older brother.

What had John Dory done? Clay liked to think that he wouldn't hurt any of them, but he couldn't. John Dory had been a control freak as a child. Who was to say that he hadn't gotten even worse after all these years?

Clay needed to get to Floyd. He needed to keep his trapped brother out of the hands of their obsessive older brother. Despite what Floyd said, he definitely deserved better than John Dory, and Clay was going to make sure he got it.

John Dory may be the oldest, but Clay was still a big brother, and he took his job very seriously. If Floyd couldn't take care of himself, then Clay would take care of him.

Clay hadn't thought about being an older brother for twenty years, and now it seemed like the single most important thing he could do. He had never wanted anything bad to happen to any of his brothers. Knowing that Floyd was trapped and hurt (by the muses, his legs. What did John Dory do?!) it awakened a protectiveness in Clay that he thought had died twenty years ago.

Clay rolled back to their safe haven, unrolling himself and running to find Viva. He found her lingering in the admin building, pacing around, clearly upset and waiting for him. She gave him an alarmed look when she saw him.

"Clay, we might have a problem." Viva said.

"One second." He hated to interrupt her, but he needed to see his little brother. He needed to make sure he was okay. "Where's Floyd?"

Viva frowned. "Who?"

"The troll in the bottle. Floyd." Clay said. "I need to see him."

Viva ran her hands together. "He's not here."

Clay felt like his heart actually stopped beating. "Where is he?"

"He left." Viva said.

"Left?!" Clay couldn't lose his baby brother. Not after getting him back after all this time. "Where? Why'd he go?"

Viva steeled her expression slightly, and Clay had a bad feeling about this. "It wasn't safe for him to be here. He said he didn't know if he was being followed or not. He was put in that bottle by these terrifying giants that can steal the talent from trolls. If they followed him here, we can put all of our friends in danger. I-I couldn't take that chance."

Clay didn't understand about half of what she said, but he understood enough. "You kicked him out?" He felt like he couldn't breathe. "He's hurt. He can't walk, and you sent him away?!"

"He agreed it was for the best." Viva said quickly before she blinked. "Wait, did you say he's hurt? But…but he rolled away just fine."

Clay felt like he was going to be sick. He knew that Viva could be a little scary when it came to protecting their small tribe, but he didn't think she would ever do something like this.

And the scary thing was, if Clay didn't know this was Floyd, and if he didn't know he was hurt, he might have agreed with Viva's decision. Sacrificing one for the good of the many just made logical sense, but not when the one was his little brother. Clay needed to find him.

"Where did he go?" Clay asked tensely. Viva looked a little startled. The two of them regularly disagreed, but Clay had never gotten mad at her like this. He didn't get angry like he did in the past. His brothers brought out this side of him, and he hated it, but he was going to use it, because his little brother needed him.

"I don't know." Viva said. Clay clenched his jaw. He turned and stormed out of the admin building, running to the exit. Viva ran after him, grabbing his arm to pull him back. "Clay, where are you going?"

"I'm going after my brother." Clay said. He pulled away from her and ran out of the golf course. He felt a little bad for running off on her, knowing that she was too scared of leaving the safety of their walls to come after him. But Floyd was alone, hurt, and beating himself up way more than he should. He needed his big brother, and Clay wasn't going to let him down. Not this time.