Chapter Text
Reading was hard.
It shouldn't be, John Dory knew that, but it was.
All his little brothers including the BABY had always fared just fine reading books but for some reason he just couldn’t quite grasp the concept.
With all those big phrases and the large spaces between, his eye got lost in the pages.
The various words that looked so similar to one another and the massive paragraphs blended together until they looked more like a big soup of words than individual sentences.
He’d realized his little problem early on as he can remember. Grandma had been the one to first realize John was having troubles when Bruce, who had only been 3 at the time, was reading through books twice as fast as John Dory could.
It had been embarrassing to say the least, especially for such a young child. He vividly remembers crying in frustration over a simple book and this being a repeating occurrence until he just accepted he wasn't smart enough.
Grandma was even more frustrated with him and his lack of reading skills than he was. She was an older-fashioned troll so while she meant well, she just couldn't understand why he couldn't just get it.
If Bruce could read, and John Dory couldn't, he obviously wasn't trying hard enough.
She never screamed at him for it, thank God, but she scolded him often enough like he was doing it on purpose.
That look of disappointment she always gave him has never left his mind even all these years later. It was the first thing he thought of when he picked up a book and it broke his heart that it was his most vivid memory of her.
Though, eventually being in a boy band resulted in him having to read.
It was basically required in order for him to write lyrics for songs. That's why during the peak of their Brozone days, he'd stay up late at night writing the lyrics legible enough for him to read and practice later.
He'd wake up so stressed and sleep-deprived that he’d get snappy with his younger brothers. Their performances eventually devolved into a chore because he was so concerned with people finding out his flaws and it not being perfect.
He already had so much to worry about he couldn't worry about having fun too.
Writing for John Dory was almost as bad. He could write faster and easier than he could read, but when he went back to proof-read it, the words got all mixed up and he could never usually read what he wrote very well.
He’d write “though” next to “through” and he would switch them by accident, creating an illegible sentence in his mind because they looked the same.
The amount of paper he's thrown away in frustration is downright wasteful.
It got so bad that John Dory would spend an eternity memorizing an entire tour's worth of songs just so he didn't have to read them anymore. Every time he kept notes for the lyrics, they got messed up when he sang. That messes with your self-esteem after a while.
Even now, after they'd saved Floyd and didn’t have to perform or be perfect anymore, John’s struggles with reading still haunted him.
Reading could easily be avoided most of the time. However, in a situation that he had to read, he just took a little longer than was probably needed.
It wasn't that he couldn't read, it was just that he was slow.
That was the big problem.
Thankfully, reading wasn't John Dory’s biggest problem as of late. Truthfully, he wouldn't call them ‘problems’ because he was actually fixing problems he'd made 20 years ago.
Now that he was back with his brothers, John Dory was doing everything he could to make up for lost time.
Every week he was in Bruce’s restaurant, bringing people their orders and maneuvering his nieces and nephews during the busy hours around lunch and dinner.
He narrowly avoided filling out orders or dealing with money and anything else with reading or writing. He never complained to Bruce's surprise. In fact, Bruce more or less had to make his brother rest, God forbid if he worked himself to death during a family visit.
Floyd was pretty tired these days, still recovering from his time in Mount Rageous. He was getting much better but he was stuck inside a lot. John Dory was more often than not the one who stayed with him so he didn't get bored. Sometimes he was there all day.
Then there was Branch, who was surprisingly pretty fun to be around. They had a lot more in common than they initially thought. Turns out he was pretty busy these days but the two of them spent a lot of time in Branch’s bunker.
The younger troll was very proud of what he’d created and John Dory was no stranger to asking all about it. Branch was enthralled to rant about the bunker and everything inside for hours. Occasionally, John Dory made suggestions and sometimes Branch even liked them.
Most of the time, it was easy to be there for his brothers. He wishes he’d been there sooner but it was the least he could do for them now.
For Clay, however, it wasn't as simple. John Dory loved Clay and he’d do anything to spend more time with him…
If it wasn't at his ridiculous sad book club.
John had nothing against sad book clubs, he didn't. That wasn't the issue here.
The issue was the reading part.
The whole idea of the book club was to sit in a room with a dozen other trolls and read the same sad book at the relatively same pace and likely cry.
When Clay had introduced the idea to him, he’d been immediately wary of the idea. The concept was explained to him how the group couldn't move onto the next book until everyone had finished the first one.
That was a problem.
Automatically he knew this was a horrible idea.
It was like John Dory was watching a car crash in slow motion. It was so predictable in fact, it was as if he could see the car crash before the accident even happened.
Regardless of this fact, John Dory couldn't say no, not that he didn't try and make excuses anyways. You could say he had full opportunity to just say no but one look at Clay and John knew that wasn't a possibility.
“I dunno, Clay…I might just slow ya down, bro.” Clay had wrapped an arm around his older brother and jostled him gently.
“Nonsense, you’ll be just fine. Not everyone here can read as fast as me anyways.” That somehow made him feel worse.
“But-”
“Oh, I'm so glad you're in! This is gonna be great, just you see.”
Yeah, here comes that car crash now.
The first book they were reading was “Animal Farm.” It was a devastating book about capitalism disguised by animals on a tragic little farm. At least, that's what John gathered from the synopsis on the back of the book.
“Wait, w-we’re doing this now?” John Dory laughed nervously, trying not to seem as worried as he was.
Clay smiled, apparently not noticing his brother's hesitation through all of his own excitement.
“Yeah! Lucky you, right?”
“Hehe…yeah… lucky me.”
There were bright wooden chairs sitting in a circle in the middle of the room. They certainly weren't comfortable, especially on his back but unfortunately there wasn't anywhere else to sit. The bright purple chair creaked under his weight and he was only a little worried that it may break.
Cracking the spine of the book felt like John was opening up the case of a bomb. Inside it looked innocuous, but the sweat on his face told him otherwise.
In his pocket, he grabbed his reading glasses that Poppy had gotten him as a gift when she found his old ones were falling apart. They were light purple and fit snugly on the bridge of his nose.
The first page went by without much trouble but the first page is always the shortest. The second and third page was where the problems arose.
The words rippled and blurred together like water on a lake. Endless walls of words combined together and mixed in his vision like he'd stuck the sentences in a blender and blended them up. He blinked rapidly to try and make it appear more clearly but he knew better that it would do nothing to help.
Shaking his head, he glanced around the silent room and saw a couple trolls, including Clay, flip a page. They must've been on the sixth or seventh page by the looks of it by now.
Frustrated, he adjusted his reading glasses and focused on the first sentence of the second page. His mouth moved mutley to the words, sounding them out like his younger brothers had done as a child.
They'd since grown out of this but for John Dory it was the only way he could read.
Quite a few times it was necessary for John to start a paragraph completely over simply because he’d tried to sound out a large word in the middle of a sentence and gotten lost. He’d attempt to return to his place but the ocean of waving words blocked him and required him to start back at the only place he could find: the start.
When the mini timer went off an hour later to indicate the book club was over, John Dory jolted. He looked up in disbelief as he'd only made it in about 10 pages.
His heart sank.
Other trolls were putting bookmarks much farther in the book than he was. It seemed like he’d barely even started.
“Hey, bro. What’d you think of the book so far?” Clay made him jolt and he slapped a smile on his face even though he was beside himself with shame.
“Oh! Well, good, yeah. It was nice so far.” Clay shrugged, holding his copy of the book with the bookmark facing out towards John Dory. He gawked at where it was.
It was a third of the way through the book.
Albeit, Animal Farm was only roughly 140 pages long, which was child's play for Clay. For John Dory, however, it might as well have been 1000 pages.
“Yeah, it's okay. It's a little barbaric but I'm excited for the sad part! I'm SO ready to cry.”
Funny. He was feeling like he was ready to cry right now.
“Yeah, right…sad book club. Hey, do you mind if I take this book home and read it?” Clay shook his head, looking a little alarmed.
“No, no, you can't take it home! If everyone did that, they would just easily finish it before the next book club. Then everyone who didn't bring it home would be really behind. That's no fun and it's not fair, is it?”
No, he supposed it wasn't.
John Dory needed that time though. It was laughable that Clay thought he could finish even half of this at home. At the very least he'd been hoping to just catch up by a couple chapters.
“Right. Yeah, you're right that wouldn't be fair. Forget I asked.” John shook his head, laughing.
He handed the book back to Clay and he took it, stacking it on top of the others. Once all the books were collected, John Dory watched this brother set the stack of books in his locker and lock it up. As if someone would want to steal a bunch of crummy books, John thought.
The car crash had happened and it had been messy, just as he predicted.
John Dory took the opportunity of Clay being distracted and slipped away before Clay could turn back.
//
“Okay, that was bad. Really bad. Ohh, you almost blew it man!”
John Dory talked to himself. It was a habit he had picked up about 20 years ago. No one had really been around to talk to but himself. He still did it while he was alone sometimes, especially when he was nervous.
“I have to get that book before the next book club. But how…” he tapped his chin, pacing around inside Rhonda.
Growling in frustration when his ideas turned to mush in his head, he rubbed his face until Rhonda made a noise of concern outside.
“I'm okay, girl. I'm just thinkin’ out loud.” His main concern was disappointing Clay.
He figures he's disappointed his brothers enough and the least he could do was try a little harder.
A sudden idea came to the front of his mind, a hopeful smile replacing his grimace.
Rummaging in the top drawer in the kitchen, he pulled out his lockpick. He'd fashioned this years ago and it's never failed him before.
Silently fist-bumping himself for this amazing plan, he slid his goggles over his face and swiftly exited Rhonda, slamming the door behind him.
“I'll be back, girl! Don't wait up!” Maybe John Dory was being a bit overzealous, but he was confident and this plan had to work!
The plan was simple, really. He’d unlock the door in the activity center, slip in while no one was there, grab his book and read it until he was caught up and put it back before Clay ever noticed.
Foolproof!
Right?
Getting into the center was easy enough. There were trolls still inside though it was getting kind of late so they were filtering out slowly. He’d found the book club room easily. Unfortunately, it was locked as he guessed it would be.
Quickly checking to make sure no one was nearby, he got on one knee and used his lock pick to jimmy open the door. Luckily, he was still well versed in the art so he got it open pretty quickly. He slid in as silent as a mouse, closing the door with a click. Once inside, it was rather dark so he pulled out his flashlight. He could've turned on the room lights but John had thought that was too obvious.
The books were in a locker in the corner of the room. It was locked because this was Clay we were talking about. He’d lock up a pile of garbage if he thought it were important.
Thankfully for him, ever since they were kids, Clay's used the same number combination for everything.
5555. Five to count all five of the brothers, including himself.
It was sweet really, if not a little dangerous.
If someone who wanted to steal from Clay knew the combination, that could put all of Clay's locked up goods in danger. Nevertheless, John Dory flung open the locker and smiled giddily that his plan had worked.
Quickly rummaging through the locker, he found his book. It was easy because his bookmark was the only one near the beginning. That only hurt his pride a little.
Ignoring the heat of shame rising in his cheeks, he quickly closed the locker and slid down to the floor with his back pressed to them. He sat cross legged in front of the lockers, flipping open the book to where he'd left off.
To stay discreet he only read by flashlight. Thankfully, it was a really good flashlight he’d gotten as a gift from Branch, saying it made him feel safer knowing John Dory had it.
The flashlight didn't help with the words jumbling together but at least here he was all alone and could read without the concern of reading too slow in front of others.
He wasn't sure how long he was inside the room reading, but when he glanced at the page number next, he’d made it another 15 pages.
Yes!
Though, John was getting tired and he was sure by now everyone was gone. Briefly, he considered putting the book away for now until he remembered how far Clay had been in the book.
If he came in only on page 25 it would be a joke.
He went right back to reading. Maybe he could be here all night.
“John Dory?”
Immediately he slammed the book shut with a loud slam which echoed in the otherwise empty room. His head shot up to the door.
It was open and Clay was standing in it, a hand still on the doorknob.
His face flushed with embarrassment and shame. He felt like he was a kid again with his hand caught in the cookie jar.
In an attempt to salvage the situation, he hoped Clay could not see what he was doing in the dark and hid the book behind him. He scrambled to his feet and pretended to look as innocent as he could, smiling nervously.
Clay flipped on the light switch and John Dory winced when the bright lights stung his eyes.
Well, so much for hiding in the dark.
“What are you doing here? What time is it?” Clay seemed more concerned than anything so at least he wasn’t too mad yet.
Then again Clay didn't know why he was here.
“I was uhm…well, what're you doing here if it's so late?” Deflection was the only way to keep the accusatory finger away from himself for as long as possible.
“No, no, I asked you first, JD. It's, what, 2 am?” Clay paused, cocking an eyebrow.
“What're you hiding behind your back?” It wasn't like he could just leave it on the floor. Then Clay would've seen it.
John could tell he was screwed. There was no way to hide this book from Clay now that he was suspicious. It wasn’t in his brother’s nature to let things go. That was a trait all of them shared.
Ashamed, John Dory pulled the book from behind his back, revealing it to his brother.
Obviously, he wasn't happy to see what it was, furrowing his brow in disapproval. The taller troll marched over and snatched it from his older brother's hands. Taking a glance over it, it's like he expected John to have done something bad to it.
“Why do you have this? It was in my locker! Did you…break into my locker?” He sounded hurt and he had every right to be. John Dory couldn't meet his eyes and rubbed his arm bashfully.
His silence was an answer enough for him and his face fell. Spurred on by his silence, Clay poked John’s chest demandingly.
“I knew you couldn't handle my sad book club. You could never listen! You couldn't just wait with everyone else like I told you to. You just had to go behind my back, didn't you?”
It was harsh but it was true.
John Dory flinched, hesitantly meeting his brother's gaze. He was disappointed in him, that much was obvious. In all his efforts to avoid that disappointed look, he’s right back where he didn't want to be anyways.
It made his heart sink just how much his glare reminded him of Grandma Rosiepuff’s.
Clay looked deeply hurt and John knew how much had been riding on this. He and Clay had always been on shaky terms and the one chance he had to fix it he’d messed up.
“I was just trying to-”
“To what? Get ahead of everyone else? You don't have to be better than everyone anymore, John. You're not the leader anymore. You don't need to be perfect.” Clay seemed desperate to get this through John's head. Little did he know that wasn't what this was about at all.
“I wasn't trying to! I just wanted to…catch up?” Clay shook his head. It was useless to reason with him once he got something in his head.
“That's the point of book club, John. We read collectively. We read at the same time so no one has to catch up. Now our whole schedule will be off track because of you!” Honestly, he seemed more upset about the schedule change than him sneaking in.
Clay advanced, pushing John aside to grab all the books inside his locker. They looked heavy but John knew better than to ask if he needed help.
“Don't bother coming back to the book club. You don't follow the rules, you don't get to be in it. Capiche?”
John Dory silently watched his brother head for the door. Just before he walked out, he took one more glance back. His expression suddenly shifted from aggravated to somber, and somehow that was worse.
“I…I don't know why… but I expected more of you John.”
Okay.
Ouch.
With that, Clay closed the door, leaving John alone in the room with nothing but his flashlight and a sinking feeling in his chest.