Chapter Text
Branch was great at pretending.
He would smile here and there and tell John how his day was going, that he was feeling fine and dandy. Don’t get him wrong, Branch was happy, he had his brother, Juju, Rhonda, and the support of those close to them like Pooka or Dr. Plum. He and his brother had made the bunker and filled it to look like a home. Their home. He loved the times where John would let him patrol with him, and take in all of the nature around him. He was truly happy and had been since his brother had come back.
But sometimes his brain would whisper at him, and he would imagine things, impossible things that he knew wouldn’t happen, but that his brain would still play on repeat. Sometimes when he watched John leave for his patrols, he’d hear whispers of forever in his mind and start to get nervous, an itchy sensation coating his arms and a dry heave rising in his throat. Each time it happened, he’d make up an excuse about needing to practice his aim or feeling anxious and wanting to check the surroundings too. It wasn’t really a lie that he was a little paranoid about the village being found. But he trusted that his brother was actively watching around and knew what he was doing. He didn’t need to go with John.
He didn’t dare tell John about the way he was feeling, he was a grown troll and had an actual understanding of emotions. Sure he took after John a little bit with the no social cues, but he was quieter than his brother and learned to watch in his silence. He knew that if he told John that he sometimes still thought he’d disappear, it would devastate him.
But he couldn’t help how he felt. He couldn’t help that sometimes when John was out late patrolling he’d stay up waiting until he heard his brother’s loud snores and peek into his room just to see him and make sure he was there. He just needed to see him. To know he hadn’t left. Branch knew his fears were irrational, he doubted that John would just choose a random sunny day, eighteen years later and choose to leave again. He knew that but sometimes his mind would just whisper things, despite his knowledge. He knew that he was a bit clingy, a lot of trolls had separate pods by his age, and even the princess lived by herself now. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t.
John never pushed him away, even when he would just quietly be in his space being a clingy leech or check on him more than necessary when he had one of his infamous migraines. He never deterred Branch, and he loved him for it. He knew that he sometimes came off strong with some of his opinions and actions, but John almost always rolled with it as long as he didn’t think they were detrimental to Branch’s health. He was amazing.
He wasn’t stupid though, he knew that John wasn’t perfect, he stressed often and tended to obsess over things, big and small, and made some of the most heinous dad jokes known to history. But god, he was his family, the one who came back and raised him, who he loved with every fiber of his being. He couldn’t even fully remember what the rest of his brothers looked or sounded like, but he knew JD.
He knew John’s real laugh, not the press one he used to give, was crooked and often sounded louder than necessary. When he was annoyed sometimes his ear would twitch and his right hand would clench, making sure to hold his left arm as still as he could so he didn’t clench that hand either. John had this annoying habit of being nit-picky about the amount of crumbs Branch would leave when he was cooking but didn’t stress about the ones he made himself when it was his turn. His favorite candies were Flutter Bites and Cosmic Shockers, and he had a secret stash that he thought he didn’t know about in a box under his bed. Sometimes John’s migraine would start to go away when a certain spot on the back of his shoulder received pressure. John also had the hardest time with obsessive thoughts regarding cooking. Branch knew John and John knew Branch.
They would forever be tied together, if he wanted to be more specific the rope was tied and double-knotted with bits of glue in the crevices. Branch’s main influence in his life for all these years was John. The thought of John possibly leaving and finding himself in the Neverglades again hurt so bad it sometimes left him breathless. He was his family, and family was one of the most important things to Branch. He would hold on for as long as he could and never let go, he’d follow John as far as he could.
As Branch looked at the card that Poppy had given him he sighed. Branch really did think of the gesture as sweet, he wouldn’t have kept all the rest of her invites if he hadn’t thought so either, but she was just too much sometimes. The glitter was annoying but the amount of thought that she typically put into these things was noteworthy.
Glancing at the shelf full of invitations, he sighed and added the card to the pile. He was so glad that John hadn’t seen this stash, he could hear echoes of his laughter even now. Her steadfast effort was impressive, but she just didn’t understand. He didn’t like loud noises and he sure as heck wasn’t going to the party. She had always tried hard to become his friend by talking and hanging out, but not listening. He had said over and over again that if she wanted to do something with him, it wouldn't be a party or loud event. It wasn’t his fault that she had taken that as a full denial. It was probably evidence of his poor communication skills but he wasn’t going to correct her or point that fact out.
Parties weren’t his thing and unless all of the Bergens died instantly or something they never would be. She just kept pushing instead of listening. He wondered that if she did start to listen to him, would she even fully understand? She thought the Bergens were all gone because they hadn’t seen one in 20 years, but deep down he knew better. The only reason why he felt comfortable enough to start speaking and doing things was because he knew that his brother would have his back. He didn’t think she would ever fully understand the struggle he had been through.
John did understand though, and didn’t push Branch on his decisions. Yeah, Branch always felt anxious when John went to the parties, but he was grateful for the options and lack of push.
Hearing pounding at the trapdoor entrance Branch groaned. He was so tired tonight and not in the mood for this back-and-forth with Poppy. It could only be her, Pooka knew how to use the entrance, the king wouldn’t come this late and John would never knock in his own home, so it could only be the only other person who knew where the bunker was.
"Branch! Branch! Branch! Branch are you in there!"
Branch groaned as he opened the peephole on the trapdoor. "What? I already told you I'm not going to your party."
"The party's over! We just got attacked by a Bergen!"
Branch froze for a couple of moments, feeling several emotions all at once. There was a strange mixture of fear, anger, and vindication, swirling in his chest, making him feel energized but also dead tired. "I knew it!" He hissed and slammed the peephole shut. He opened the trap door and pulled Poppy in so that he could start to activate Plan Bergen. About to start grabbing traps to surround the main entrance he froze when he felt Poppy grab his hand.
“What Poppy? I need to start laying traps down to prepare for when John and Pooka come back so that we can hide.” As he said it something in his chest tightened and shifted, almost as if he was being squeezed too hard. Finally looking up at Poppy he saw her face look tight and unrecognizable, almost as if she had been crying.
Snatching his hand away with a force he had never used with her before he looked her in the eyes, staring hard.
“Where’s John and Pooka”
“Pooka’s in the village with the other’s, he’s not really in a state to come”
She looked a bit to the side as she said it but there was something in her gaze that was making him dizzy. Disgruntled at her evasion, he frowned making sure to look her dead in the eye as he asked.
“Where’s John”
Poppy cringed, but then spoke quickly and loudly, "It took him. And my friends. Biggie, Cooper, DJ, Fuzzbert, Smidge and Creek! But I know they’re still alive, we can definitely still find them. I know it!"
Branch just gives a quick and acidic chuckle, listening to the ringing in his ears. He’s slowly starting to grow in volume with his laughter, almost choking with how hard he laughing now. His head is starting to hurt. There’s something in his throat rising and his mind is starting to feel like static. Gripping his hair he looked at Poppy, noticing she was standing further back than before, looking less confident. In between his chuckles, he had only one thing to say.
“Get out.”
“But Branch! I know they’re alive! We can get to Bergen Town, we just need to-”
“Get out! There’s nothing we can do! I don’t know, maybe you should try scrapbooking them to freedom! Get out!”
Not hearing her response, he watched her leave, pressing his hands to his eyes when she was gone. He genuinely thinks he might be losing it. His throat is starting to hurt and he’s starting to feel nauseous. His eyes and chest are burning something fierce but all he’s been doing is laughing. Was this what the books called a nervous breakdown? Because if so he wants to sue for their underwhelming descriptions. He feels like he’s been staring into the sun for hours, while simultaneously running from a hufflebear. His heart might just be stopping. He couldn’t tell if it was the laughing or his mind messing with him but it was getting hard to breathe. Taking a wheezing breath in he moved his head when he heard the latch open again.
"Hey Branch."
Looking at her again she looked a bit guilty, biting her lip and looking to the side.
"I was just wondering if I could borrow something," Poppy said.
"What do you want Poppy, didn’t you hear me say get out?" Branch growled out his voice aching and rolling.
"Your bunker?" Poppy said quietly, moving out of the way so that trolls could stream into the Bunker’s top layer. She didn’t even stay to watch or say anything afterward just left him to deal with this. Hearing the hug time bracelets go off he felt his skin itch and anger simmer in his gut. This wasn’t over.
Branch would love to say that it was the hug time bracelets that had made him leave, but it had been Pooka, who was sitting in the corner leaning over a bucket.
“Pooka!”
Seeing his body flinch, he was surprised when Pooka didn’t acknowledge him and kept his face in the bucket. Walking over he knelt down and touched his shoulder, surprised when he lifted his head and saw that Pooka was letting out full-body sobs, his face full of snot and tears.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Branch! John’s gone and I-”, Pooka interrupted himself, vomiting in the bucket, still crying hard. He was so drunk and out of it that Branch knew he wouldn’t be able to get the full story out of him. Feeling his own emotions start to rise as he watched Pooka start to become inconsolable. He gripped the ends of his hair and grunted. He was so afraid of everything that was happening. He was terrified of the Bergens but his fear of being alone and without John was starting to grow bigger than the other. He didn't think he would ever be okay again if he didn't see him again. Looking at Pooka, he stood up grabbing a couple of supplies from the secret alcoves in the first layer.
“I’ll get him back.”
And with that he was gone, leaving the trolls in the top layer of his bunker, hoping they didn’t find a way into the lower levels. He was terrified, but the thought of his brother being hurt, let alone lost to him, leaving him, forced to live without him, was making him feel like he might actually hurt someone. Whether that someone was someone else or himself, he didn’t know.
Stepping into Poppy's pod, Branch grabbed a shirt, lifting it to his hair so that it was in sniffing distance. He whistled for Juju and heard her nose sniff, hoping she could lead him to Poppy's whereabouts. He thought about taking Rhonda but feared the loss of two dear things instead of one.
"Think you could lead me to Poppy, sweetheart?" Branch asked, his voice tinged with urgency and exhaustion.
As Juju purred in response and bounded down to the ground, Branch followed closely, his mind a whirlwind of fear and determination.
*****
He didn’t know what he had been expecting but this hadn’t been it, looking at the sight in front of him, he saw Poppy, wrapped in spider silk looking almost like a burrito, not talking or making any noises. Four large spiders were also starting to surround her as well, thinking of her as prey. Moving quickly he grabbed her with his hair, looking at them sternly
Angered, the spiders start to run toward Branch, but he jumps in front of Poppy, hoping to get her out of sight. Reaching behind him, he grabs his frying pan and throws it at one of the spiders, hoping the force and noise would disturb them and cause them to retreat. The pan hit one of the spiders, but they only paused for a moment before coming at him even more angrily. Huffing, Branch glares at the spiders as he throws his pack down and begins whipping them back with his hair and into the mouth of a bigger creature.
“Poppy!” Bringing his focus back onto the princess Branch runs over to her and presses his ear to the bundle of webs, trying to listen for her heartbeat. “Hang on!” Branch grabs a thorn and cuts through the webs, right after grabbing two shock beetles nearby and using them to resuscitate her. He quickly moved back when she shot forward, a hearty gasp escaping.
“Branch, you came!”
Frowning he just stood up and started walking, now that he knew she wasn't dying he wasn’t in the mood to talk and he sure as hell didn’t feel safe enough out in the open to do so either. Hearing her call after him he just kept following Juju, who he had let down after the spiders had left so she could follow John’s scent.
Poppy had given up talking to him after about an hour of trying and only getting silence in response. It was a throwback to when they had first met but in severely worse conditions. He knew he should probably tell her his plan, but until John Dory was standing in front of him, he wasn’t talking unless absolutely necessary. Besides his throat felt like he had chugged spoonfuls of cinnamon.
Branch repeatedly made the plan in his head, they needed to get to the edge of Bergen Town without being spotted. Then, they would need to inside by sneaking through the old escape tunnels, and find a way into the castle. God, he was losing his mind. It didn’t help that the repetitive thinking was reminding him of John. And that was a thought that made him taste ash.
By the time they found a relatively safe area to sleep for the night, Branch was exhausted and emotionally drained. He noticed that his skin had darkened some too. Even though he had never fully regained his colors, he had brightened up a lot compared to when John had first seen him.
Sitting around the fire they both sat in silence. Branch had been ignoring all the looks that she had been giving him, feeling determined to just make it to the tree with no conversation. Hearing her start to sing he quickly slammed his hand on the ground and gave her a sharp look. Gaining silence for a while he turned to lie down when he heard Poppy speak again.
“I’m sorry Branch…for the Bunker and the party, I just wanted everyone to be…to be...” Looking to the side Branch saw her looking down, more hesitant and quiet than usual. “The others are alive Branch, I know it…I…they have to be alive. I know the bunker thing was a little mean but I needed you Branch, you’re the only one who could actually help me. You wouldn't have left if I hadn't done it.” Twiddling her thumb in the dirt she looked up at him, eyes a little glassy.
Huffing, Branch turned to the side, looking into the night sky. “Okay, Poppy.” He knew that she hadn’t gone overboard with the party thinking that it would bring the attention of a Bergen, but it still had happened. He wasn’t really mad at her anymore, his anger had cooled into something ugly and miserable towards himself. He knew why she had done what she did, he didn’t like it, but he got it. She was putting on a front, but Branch was an observer, he could see that the loss of her friends had got to Poppy. She was devastated but for some odd reason, she felt that couldn’t show it.
Hearing her whispers, he focused on her voice again.
“Good night, Cooper. Good night, Smidge. Good night, Fuzzbert. Good night, Satin. Good night, Chenille. Good night, Biggie. Good night, DJ. Good night, Guy Diamond. Good night, Creek. Boop.”
Rolling his eyes at the last name he looked at the trees in front of him, hoping that she would finally be quiet so that he could think. He wondered how long she would be able to hold on to her energy and enthusiasm. Weirdly enough he couldn’t decide if he preferred her to open her eyes or to stay happy and be a light where there was none.
Brushing a finger on the straps of his glasses, he wished JD a good night, hoping that he wouldn't end up even more distraught than he already was.