Bruce had always hated the word 'perfect'. It was just a constant reminder of all he would ever fail to be. He would never be a perfect father, or a perfect partner. He would never be a perfect brother. For twenty years he had struggled to come to terms with it. It had taken him a lot of work to figure out that he just had to do his best, and try to improve where he could. Now he believed that he was good enough.
He made mistakes with his children, but he tried his best to make things right. He wasn't afraid to apologize for his mistakes, and make it clear to his children that it was okay to be wrong sometimes. He didn't want them to grow up terrified of having flaws. He wanted to give them the space to learn and grow.
Bruce and Brandy always apologized to each other. They never went to bed angry, because there had been countless nights when Bruce and John Dory would start fighting just before bed and their Grandma wouldn't let them resolve things. She said it was time for sleep, and she believed that they would feel better if they weren't tired and grouchy. But it just let things fester and build up, and then those unresolved feelings would be brought up in their next fight.
He hadn't wanted that for him and Brandy, so they sat and talked. They compromised. They talked through their feelings. It wasn't perfect, but it was so good and Bruce was proud of how far he had come.
Bruce had thought he'd be able to use those strategies with his brothers, and he'd tried. It went wrong. In trying to calm Floyd down he had just upset him even more. He hadn't really tried to reassure Clay that John Dory wouldn't hurt Floyd so horrifically.
Bruce had done the best he could for his brothers, and it had all been wrong, just like it had been when they were little. He didn't know how to do better than his best, and it was frustrating and painful.
He nearly hadn't called for a time-out for all of them, because what if he overstepped and messed up again? But he did it anyway, calling an end to the fight before somebody said something that ruined their family forever.
It was a relief when his brothers followed his advice and took a break. John Dory would be able to calm down Floyd in a way that Bruce had never been able to, and Bruce and Clay were finally given the full story from Branch.
It didn't paint a pretty picture, and none of what they were told made Bruce feel like any less of a failure.
Branch told them about what Velvet and Veneer had done to Floyd, and Bruce felt sick at the thought. He had been a fan of theirs. He loved their music as soon as he had heard it. But it wasn't really their music, was it? Their singing had been stolen from Floyd, and even the songs themselves might have been too. Had they used Floyd's talent to write their hits?
The whole thing made Bruce understand a bit more why Floyd might be so hard on himself. He kept going on and on about not being good enough, and now it made sense why. He was probably scared that if he wasn't good enough to achieve the Perfect Family Harmony then he would never be truly free.
And Bruce wondered if a part of it was that Floyd wanted to be imperfect and untalented. After all, Velvet and Veneer had gone after him specifically for his talent. If Floyd no longer had the trait that had gotten him in trouble in the first place, maybe he thought he would be safer.
Bruce could relate to that feeling. It was why he'd let himself go these past twenty years. He had been so scared of being taken advantage of because of his looks that he went out of his way to not take care of himself. It had taken him years, and a lot of work, to get to the point where he could try to be more aware of his health without going overboard about it like he had as a child.
Branch said that Floyd was probably scared of singing because he felt self-conscious about his voice. He also told them that, according to John Dory, Floyd had issues with self-loathing, and he always had. Bruce could believe that, but that didn't mean that Floyd wasn't also doing this out of self-preservation. That he was just trying to keep himself safe, even if he didn't realize that was what he was doing.
He would have to talk to Floyd about all of this, but that would have to wait until later. As soon as Clay got the story about what had happened to Floyd, and that John Dory had saved him, he stormed off to find them. Bruce let him go. Clay would need some time to figure out how he was feeling, and he would need privacy to figure out how to talk to John and work things out with him.
Instead, Bruce got settled next to Branch. "How're you doing?" He asked Branch. His baby brother groaned and his ears drooped.
"I'm tired." Branch said. "So tired" And he looked it. "I thought I would never see or hear from any of you again, and I thought 'good riddance'. But now you're all here, and you're all somehow exactly like I remember, and completely different. It's a lot to try to keep up with.
Bruce hummed in acknowledgement. He got it. "I know this probably doesn't mean a lot, but I'm sorry we hurt you in our fighting." Bruce was sorry that any of them had hurt each other at all, but Branch had been innocent in all of it.
"I wasn't bothered by the fighting." Branch said. "I could handle the fighting. What I couldn't take was that you guys just left. You just up and decided that our family wasn't worth the effort anymore."
It hurt to hear it like that. Bruce hadn't thought a lot about how his little brothers might remember the events. Branch had always been so oblivious of their arguments. In his eyes their leaving had come out of nowhere. He didn't know that it had been a long time coming.
"It wasn't that you guys weren't worth the effort." Bruce said. "Of course you were, but my efforts could only go so far. We were all trying, and it just wasn't enough. We were burning ourselves and each other out."
Branch didn't look like he understood. Bruce hadn't expected him to.
"You were so young." Bruce said. "You don't have any idea how bad it was."
Branch looked like he was about to say that they had just overreacted, but he refrained. "Grandma said that you guys fought a lot, and it was a normal thing for kids to do."
Bruce snorted. "What was going on with us was not normal. Yeah, siblings bicker sometimes. That's unavoidable. What happened between us though…" He trailed off and tried to find his words. How did he explain the toxic environment of a couple of kids who were just trying to take care of themselves and each other, and they had no idea what they were doing.
"Fighting between kids is normal." Bruce said. "But they're supposed to be in a safe environment. There's supposed to be an adult there. A mediator, just in case things went too far."
"Grandma was there." Branch objected.
"Yeah, and we ended up taking care of her more than she took care of us." Bruce said. He didn't blame their grandmother. He knew it wasn't her fault. But he couldn't help but resent the situation. She was supposed to be their guardian.
"When our fights went too far, we didn't have an adult there to convince us to let go of our pride and apologize." Bruce said. He could remember it all too well. "We didn't have someone that we could rant to without judgement, or fear of just starting another fight."
Bruce's throat tightened. All of this had happened twenty years ago, but the pain still lingered. "When one of us was hurt or upset, and it felt like our world was falling apart around us, we would try to comfort each other, and usually it would be good enough. But when our fights got really bad, and we were the ones who hurt each other, who were we supposed to go to?"
Branch wrapped his arms around himself. Bruce only hesitated for a moment before putting his arms around Branch's shoulders, pulling him close. Branch was stiff, but he leaned against him.
"I didn't know." Branch said.
"We didn't want to drag you into it." Bruce said. "It had been a mistake to let Floyd know." They hadn't tried to let him know how messed up their family was. They'd just been too young when he was growing up. They hadn't known how to be discrete. Keeping Branch in the dark was one of the few things that Bruce felt like they had done right.
"John Dory put so much pressure on himself." Bruce said. He hadn't been blind as a child. He knew that his older brother was stressed.
"I tried to help him." Bruce said. "I did more than any fifteen year old should." He'd prepared most of their family's meals. He'd watched the kids when John Dory had to work. He had kept the pod as clean as he could. He had watched out for Grandma on her really bad days, because John Dory had never been able to handle her the way that Bruce could.
"I did the best I could." Bruce said. He'd exhausted himself in the process. "But it wasn't enough." He had just been a kid. He wasn't supposed to be a guardian. It was so overwhelming to be so busy with the kids that he didn't get around to cleaning, so the pod was left a mess. Or when dinner got ruined because he left the stove on because Grandma had wandered off and he needed to find her. Or when John Dory would come home looking dead on his feet, and Bruce would feel like a terrible brother for wanting to ask for a break, or some help, or even just a hug.
"John Dory did so much for us. I know he did.' Bruce said. "But he was just a kid too. He didn't know what he was doing any more than I did. We tried to pick up each other's slack, but we just ended up bringing out each other's flaws and weaknesses, and it made things so much worse."
Bruce rubbed Branch's upper arm. "It couldn't go on like that. We would just end up tearing each other apart. I really do think it was for the best that we left, but we should have done it so much differently." Bruce and John Dory had been old enough to take care of themselves. They would have been fine. But they should have made sure their little bros would be taken care of too.
They should have asked King Peppy if he could let Clay stay with his family. They should have taken Grandma to the doctors and seen if they knew of anybody that could help take care of her properly. Branch would have probably been better off just being adopted by a whole new family who could give him the love and support he deserved. And if they wouldn't be able to find a good place for Floyd to stay, where they knew he would be happy and cared for, one of them should have just taken him with them. After all, taking care of one well-behaved and fairly independent child was a lot different than taking care of that child, plus a baby, plus a confrontational little bro, as well as an exhausted older brother and a sick Grandma.
Most importantly, they should have sat their brothers down and calmly explained that being apart, at least for a bit, was what was best for all of them. It didn't mean that they didn't care, or that they didn't love them, or that they weren't a family anymore. That communication was where Bruce thought they had really failed, and he would hate himself for it for the rest of his life.
"I'm sorry we let you down." Bruce said, and he meant it. He had never wanted to hurt his brothers. Branch leaned closer to him.
"I'm sorry the pop trolls let you guys down." Branch said. "You guys never should have been in that position. And Floyd should have never felt like he couldn't come home because he wasn't 'pop' enough." Bruce didn't know what he meant by that, but it was something he was determined to look into more later.
"I'll talk to Poppy." Branch said, his voice full of determination. "We won't let this kind of thing happen to anybody else."
"That'd be nice." Bruce said. "Who's Poppy?" His question had Branch smiling, and he suddenly had a pretty good question about who she was, at least to Branch.
"My girlfriend." Branch said. "She's the queen of the pop trolls." That was definitely news to Bruce. He had thought that Viva was the princess. "She's…oh." Branch blinked. "You know, she was actually like John Dory for a bit." He sounded surprised at his words, like it was a brand new revelation.
"How so?" Bruce asked.
Branch fiddled with his fingers. "It was shortly after she became queen. Everybody knew she would do a good job, but she expected a lot from herself. She kinda got it into her head that being responsible for others meant being the only responsible one. She was trying so hard to do what she thought was right, but she didn't really listen to us when we questioned if she was sure about what she was doing. The way she saw it, no, she wasn't sure, but she couldn't say that, because she was in charge, and trolls in charge have to be sure, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." Bruce was just getting sad listening to this. "That sounds like John Dory all right." Poor Poppy. And poor Branch. "And is she still-?" He trailed off, unsure of how to ask if she was still controlling. Branch understood though. He shook his head.
"Oh, no, she's great." Branch said. "She figured things out. I figured things out. We've been helping each other figure out what neither of us can quite get on our own. It's…it's good." Branch looked at peace, and that was a relief for Bruce.
Branch's eyes turned a little sad. "I tried to support her, but it was hard. I…I actually ended up leaving, just for a bit, because she wasn't listening to me, and it hurt so much to have the most important person in my life not really notice or seem to care about what I was going through." He looked at Bruce. "Was it like that with you and John Dory?"
"I mean, It was a little different." Bruce said. For one thing, he and John Dory had been quite a few years younger than Branch and probably Poppy were. For another thing, Bruce and John Dory weren't dating, and neither of them was a queen. There were different dynamics between them. But just because the specifics were different didn't mean that it wasn't unnervingly familiar. "But, yeah, that pretty much sounds like how it went when we were kids."
"Huh." Branch looked thoughtful. "You know, I never thought I would ever even consider that there was more to you guys leaving than just you not caring." He shifted slightly. "I'm still mad though, and hurt, but I don't hate you guys."
It wasn't forgiveness, but that was okay. Bruce wasn't asking for his brother's forgiveness. But it was understanding, and it was far more than Bruce had ever thought he would get from any of his brothers, let alone Branch.
"Hey, be as mad as you need." Bruce said. "Despite what the pop trolls said, a little bit of anger can be good for you sometimes."
"Oh, I know." Branch chuckled bitterly. "But I think I've had enough of being angry. It's so tiring."
"Tell me about it." Bruce laughed. "There's a reason I never yell at my kids, and it's not because they're flawless little angels." It's because thirteen was a lot of kids, and it was exhausting to be mad at them.
Branch smiled at him. "You have kids?"
"Uh-huh." Bruce returned the smile. He'd waited so long to introduce his family to his brothers. "You'll love them."
"I can't wait to meet them." Branch said. "But, uh, maybe we should go make sure our brothers haven't killed each other."
"Yeah, probably." Bruce sighed. John Dory and Clay were both so hard on themselves and each other, and Floyd was in no condition to be the mediator between them. Twenty years ago he would have worried about things going too far. He liked to think that the others had matured in that time. If he and Branch had figured things out, surely John Dory and Clay could keep calm for a single conversation.
"Come on." Bruce stood up and held a hand out to pull Branch to his feet. "Let's take a walk down to the beach, see how our brothers are doing." Branch took his head, and once he was standing he didn't immediately let go. Bruce felt content as he held his brother's hand. They walked together to find the others.