Floyd had gone for so long having forgotten what it was like to feel true hope that he had also forgotten how easy it was to cling to that feeling when it was the only thing he had.
When he was a little kid hope was what got him through every single day. It was like a crutch to him. If he didn't hope for a future where they didn't have to worry about being eaten by the bergens, then he would have stolen some of John Dory's sleeping medicine on Trollstice, climbed out onto one of the branches of the tree where he knew the bergens could reach him, and he just would have taken a nap just before the bergens started snatching any troll they could get their hands on.
He knew what would happen. He knew he would get eaten. But he also knew that with the sleeping medicine he would just sleep through it. No fear. No pain. It was just going to sleep, and then not waking up afterwards.
But Floyd had never seriously considered it, because all of the trolls kept promising each other that they would get away from the tree someday, and he believed them. He trusted them. So, for the sake of hoping for a future where he was safe, he did his best to be brave and hide with his brothers every Trollstice.
He had also carried a constant hope with him that his family would be happy and his brothers would get along. Deep down he had believed that it wasn't really possible, but he had to hope that it was. If Floyd didn't have that hope then he might have grown resentful of his brothers. Or he would have gotten depressed and gone Gray a long time ago, and then his brothers would have had another thing that they would have fought about.
Being hopeful had been Floyd's greatest comfort as a child, but now it felt heavy and cold. It wasn't that he hoped for things that he wanted, he hoped for things that he knew he would probably never have, and he just didn't know how to cope with the thought of letting those dreams go and moving on.
He felt like that was what he should be doing now. Floyd could tell that Branch was struggling with something. He would get worked up and have small moments where he would lose his temper, and then he'd be full of regret. And Floyd knew that it was somehow his fault.
He didn't know what he'd done wrong, or if he'd even done anything wrong at all, but he knew that his presence was upsetting his little brother. If Branch needed to rant and let himself get frustrated, Floyd would be more than happy to let him yell at him. He probably deserved it, and even if he didn't he could handle it. He would take his brother's angry words any day if it meant they might be a little happier.
But Branch didn't like being mad. He was always so apologetic about it, and he seemed to carry his guilt with him for far longer than Floyd thought was fair. Floyd himself forgot the exact words that Branch said to him minutes after they left his mouth, because what he said in a fit of anger didn't really matter, because he knew he didn't really mean them. Branch could say anything and Floyd would forgive him. But Branch wasn't forgiving himself, and that was what Floyd thought was the worst thing about it.
Floyd knew that Branch wasn't just going to get better all by himself. Something needed to change. Floyd didn't know what he'd done to cause this, so he couldn't fix it. All he could do was watch as his little brother slowly spiraled deeper into whatever troubles were in his mind.
Branch avoided him sometimes, which was fine, but it made Floyd wonder if his brother would be happier if he wasn't there. If Floyd left then maybe Branch wouldn't be so mad and upset, and then he wouldn't have anything to feel guilty about. But Floyd didn't want to leave. He wanted to be with Branch. He wanted to get to know the troll that his baby brother had become.
So Floyd stayed in the bunker and just hoped that things would get better for Branch.
He took the hint and left Branch alone. He still invited him to do things, because Floyd knew how much it hurt to not be invited, even if you didn't want to go in the first place, but he was prepared for Branch's refusal and excuses. He started spending more time with Poppy instead, going to her when his new hug time bracelet went off. Poppy really did give great hugs.
When Floyd was feeling the deep longing to be with his brothers he would go to his room and wrap himself up in his blanket. It didn't feel quite as good as the real thing, but it was still comforting and familiar enough that he was able to doze off until the longing went away.
Things weren't…perfect…they could be better. But this was fine. Floyd was fine. He wouldn't ask for more. At least, he didn't want to ask for more, because that would be greedy and selfish. But he could only stay in the bunker for so ong before he started to feel the walls close in around him and he grew desperate to get out. A distraction and company usually helped, but he couldn't bother Branch, and Poppy was busy today. She wouldn't say with what. She just said that it was important, but he didn't have to worry about it.
It was a little hard to not worry when Poppy specifically told him that he should avoid leaving the bunker until she said so, just in case. Why? Was it not safe? Floyd didn't think that Poppy was in danger, because Branch wouldn't just be sitting around his bunker, slightly grumpier than usual, if she was. But then why was Floyd not supposed to leave?
He didn't like the thought of not being allowed to leave. It made him think of the rock trolls. He knew it wasn't the same thing, and it was unfair to even think that Poppy was anything like Barb, but the thought wouldn't leave his head. He could usually handle being in the bunker for the day, but just knowing that he wasn't supposed to leave made him antsy to get out.
Floyd took a long time to work up the nerve before he went to find his brother. He didn't want to bother Branch, but he was feeling like the walls were closing in around him. He needed some air, and a swim in the pond nearby would probably help him to relax.
Floyd swallowed thickly and approached Branch. "Um. Do you know why I'm not supposed to leave?"
Branch didn't seem put out or upset that Floyd was approaching him. Maybe he was in a good mood. "Yeah, I know." He sounded unimpressed, but Floyd believed that he wasn't the one his brother was unimpressed with. He just didn't like the situation.
Branch didn't explain the situation more. Floyd tapped his feet anxiously. He didn't necessarily need to know what was wrong. That was fine. But there was something he needed to know. "What will Poppy do if I do leave? Just for a walk around the woods?"
Branch had been sketching a bit in his notebook, just casually being part of the conversation. After Floyd's words Branch closed his book with a tired sigh. "Do? Man, Poppy's not going to do anything. You're not…you're not a prisoner."
Floyd's mouth thinned. "But I'm not allowed to leave."
Branch looked conflicted for a long time. He took a long time to gather his thoughts. "It's not that you're not allowed to leave, it's just…it's for the best if you don't."
"Why?" Floyd asked.
Branch fiddled with his fingers slightly, clenching and unclenching them the way he did when he was nervous or upset. "There's a diplomatic meeting going on in the village. The leaders of the different clans are all here going over negotiations and stuff."
Floyd's chest tightened. His foot was still tapping on the ground and for a minute it didn't sound like a tap, it sounded like the beating of a bass drum. He couldn't stop his foot from tapping, so he sat on the ground instead to quiet the sound.
"O-oh." Floyd said weakly. Barb was here. Floyd didn't know how he would react if he saw her. It probably would be best if he didn't take the chance. But he didn't want to stay in the bunker. Especially not now.
Branch gave him a pitying look. He sighed and held a hand out to Floyd. "Come on. Let's take a walk around. Some air might be good."
Floyd desperately wanted that, but he was scared too. "B-but-"
"Don't worry about Barb." Branch said. "They're in a meeting right now. If we stay away from the village then we shouldn't run into her. If the worst happens and we happen to see her, I'll keep you away from her. She's not going to hurt you again."
Floyd couldn't just stop being nervous, but he trusted his brother. He couldn't even imagine the possibility that Branch could fail to keep him safe. He took a deep breath and took Branch's hand. "Okay."
They left the bunker and just walked around. They didn't talk, but it was nice. Floyd knew that any conversation between them would end up getting Branch upset, and then he'd feel guilty all over again. Silence was preferable.
Floyd was really bad at keeping track of time. He was so busy just taking in the cool breeze and his brother's presence that he really didn't know how long they were out there for. It could have been five minutes. It could have been five hours. Floyd could believe it either way. Eventually they circled back to the bunker.
Branch had been really relaxed during their walk, but he suddenly froze and grabbed Floyd's arm, stopping him in his tracks. There was a fury in his eyes that Floyd didn't like. His little brother shouldn't look like that.
"Branch?" Floyd said quietly.
"You've got to be kidding me." Branch growled lowly. "Stay close. Stay quiet. I'll take care of this." He took a deep breath and continued walking. It didn't take long for Floyd to hear talking ahead. As they got closer he realized that the voices belonged to two females. They went around a bend and Floyd saw two very familiar trolls standing at the entrance to Branch's bunker, and they both looked uncomfortable being there.
Floyd's breath got caught in his throat when he saw the queen of the rock trolls talking to Poppy. He stepped closer to Branch, clinging tightly to his arm. She wasn't supposed to be here. Branch had promised he wouldn't have to see her. Not that he blamed Branch. What was Barb doing at the bunker? That was Branch's home. It was Floyd's safe space. She shouldn't ever be anywhere near there.
Branch looked like he wanted to storm up to Barb, but he stayed at a fair distance, keeping himself between her and Floyd, who felt guilty at how relieved he was for the protection. He was the big brother. He should be the one keeping Branch out of harm's way, and yet here he was, cowering behind him.
"Go away." Branch crossed his arms and tried to make himself as big as he could. "Now."
"Branch, it's okay." Poppy said. Floyd usually found comfort in her reassuring and comforting way of talking, but it didn't make him feel better right now. "Barb is just here to apologize."
Floyd could feel Branch's arm shaking under his grip. "You can't just make someone apologize."
"She's not making me do anything, Boytoy." Barb said. "It was my idea."
"That doesn't make it better." Branch said. "Neither of you can make him hear you out if he doesn't want to."
"I know that." Poppy said. "I just thought it might help."
"That's not for you to decide." Branch growled. Floyd didn't like this. He really didn't. Poppy and Branch were fighting. They weren't supposed to be like this. They were dating. They were practically family. Family wasn't supposed to fight. It just led to…
"You never listen to me!"
It led to…
"Bro, I love you, but I really don't like you right now."
It…
"Goodbye forever!"
Floyd whimpered and tightened his grip on Branch, burying his face in his shoulder. He was supposed to be stopping this, but when he'd tried to do that as a kid they would just…
"Why are you taking his side?"
"You don't know anything. You're just a kid."
"Just shut up."
They hadn't wanted to listen to him back then. Why would Branch and Poppy be any different?
He tried to block out the sound of their argument, just hoping for it to be over. It was what he had done as a child. He would let a song go through his head and lose himself in the tune, but the only music he could hear in his ears right now was the imaginary riff of a guitar and the beating of his soul, pounding out a rhythm that he could never get out of his head.
~Perfect, perfect, perfect~
But it wasn't quite right. The beat was too harsh. The guitar was far too loud, seeming almost intimidating, accompanied by a flash of red that shouldn't belong in this memory, but had made its home there. This wasn't how the song was supposed to go, so why was it all that he could remember?
"Hey, man, you okay?" Floyd stiffened and stared blankly at Barb, who was looking at him. She looked concerned, and Floyd didn't know what to do about this.
"Huh?" Talking seemed impossible. What did she want from him?
"Are you okay?" Barb asked. She didn't even sound annoyed about repeating her question. She sounded genuinely concerned. Floyd couldn't even begin to wrap his head around it.
"Don't talk to him!" Branch shouted. Floyd flinched when his brother pulled him further behind him. Barb crossed her arms.
"I was just asking." Barb said. "Since you're too busy jumping at our throats to even ask what he wants."
"Oh, don't act like you suddenly care about what's best for him." Branch scoffed. "This is all your fault. You couldn't even be bothered to remember anything about him, because you didn't see him as a troll, you saw him as a pest."
"And I was wrong, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?!" Barb's aggressive yet probably still sincere near apology sounded very familiar, and for a wild second Floyd thought he heard John Dory's voice on top of Barb's. It made him feel a little dizzy and very confused.
"Guys, stop this." Poppy put herself between Barb and Branch, pushing the rock troll away to force some space between them.
"And I do too remember things about him." Barb said defensively, ignoring Poppy completely. Barb looked at Floyd. "I didn't before, but with that bright pink hair it's come back to me." Floyd's heart pounded. He started to feel nervous without completely understanding why. "I knew you had a rock-ish name." Oh. Oh, no.
"Don't." It was all Floyd could say. But it wasn't loud or strong enough. Barb either didn't hear him or she didn't care.
"Pink Floyd, right?" Barb smiled. She smiled, looking almost pleased with herself. It was weird to see her look so happy when Poppy was tense, Floyd felt like his world was falling apart, and Branch…
Floyd gave his brother a concerned look. His eyes were blank and he was staring at Barb the way that somebody stared at a bergen who had just eaten a neighbor or friend.
"...What?" Branch's tone was emotionless. It was so hard to figure out what was going through his head.
Barb didn't know Branch the way that Poppy and Floyd did. She couldn't tell how tense he really was. She didn't know that a line had been crossed. She probably thought that he was stunned, and she looked smug at being able to prove him wrong about something.
"Yeah, the name came back to me." Barb said. "I can pay attention sometimes."
Branch's hands were clenched so tightly that Floyd was worried that he was going to hurt himself. "His name. Say it again." And this time Floyd recognized his tone. It was something he used to hear all the time from Clay and Spruce. That was how they had sounded when John Dory had pushed them too far, and if he didn't apologize in two seconds then heads were going to start rolling.
Branch wasn't just upset. He was beyond angry. He was at the breaking point, and Floyd felt like he was about to break himself. This was his fault.
"Floyd." Barb said simply. With that one word it was like a flip had been switched. Branch let out a raw, guttural scream. He yanked his arm out of Floyd's tight grip. He barreled past Poppy, uncaring that he had shoved her aside. Branch only had his eyes on one troll. He shouted as he lunged at Barb, tackling her to the ground.
"Branch!" Poppy tried to pull him off of Barb, but she couldn't do it. Branch was stronger than she was, and far more desperate.
Floyd just stood there, watching, feeling frozen. Everybody was shouting. Barb was swearing and throwing around slurs and threats as she kicked at Branch to try to get him off. Poppy was trying and failing to encourage them to calm down and talk about things. And Branch was just shouting as he attacked Barb. Floyd caught the words 'brother', 'family', and, for some reason 'pretend', from Branch. The words themselves didn't really matter. What mattered was that he was screaming, and crying, and actively trying to hurt the queen of the rock trolls, which wouldn't end up well for any of them.
Tears came to Floyd's eyes. He had to do something. He couldn't just watch as Branch was hurting so much. Especially not when he was so close to doing something he would probably regret.
Floyd reacted instinctively. He stretched his hair out and, without thinking about it, he wrapped his hair around Branch's, entwining them. Branch immediately grew still, and between Poppy and Floyd they were able to pull him off of Barb.
Maybe Floyd should let go of Branch, because trolls didn't normally grab each other by the hair. It was an intimate gesture. It was mostly used between couples, but it wasn't uncommon for parents to use their hair to rein in an unruly teenager who was overwhelmed by their own emotions and acting out because of it.
If coming from someone trusted or well-loved, hair on hair contact could be incredibly soothing. It was grounding, but seen as socially unacceptable except in very specific situations. Siblings could hold each other by their hair, but only if they were kids. This wasn't something that adults did, but Floyd couldn't bring himself to let go of his brother.
Branch's hair felt just as Floyd remembered it. It felt like laying on the grass in the early morning, when the air was still cool and the ground was wet with dew. Every troll's hair felt uniquely different from each other's. Floyd had been told that his hair felt like being wrapped up in a cozy blanket and curling up on a soft bed after taking a bath.
Troll hair signatures were very specific, and nobody ever forgot a hair signature. Even when Grandma used to have her really bad days, where she didn't remember who they were, she would recognize their hair and know they meant home and family. What the mind forgot to time, the body and soul remembered.
If Branch hadn't known who Floyd was now, he certainly did now.
Floyd choked on a sob. He sat on the ground and buried his face in his hands. He didn't want to see the hurt and betrayal in his brother's eyes. He wouldn't be able to stand it.
"I'm sorry." Floyd muttered. He rocked slightly and tightened his grip on Branch's hair. Branch, who was just breathing heavily and making pained keening noises. Poppy tried to gently hush and calm him, but Branch couldn't be comforted any more than Floyd could. "I'm so sorry.
