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Floyd shivers as he sits at the kitchen table, coffee mug in hand.
He'd been cold lately, his body failing to generate warmth and struggling to retain heat once his internal temperature finally rose. He'd brought it up during his weekly visit to the medical pod, but Dr.Moonbloom had blamed it on the aftereffects of dying. It turns out that having every bit of your talent sucked out of your body had adverse side effects. Who knew?
He didn't mind it, not really. Sometimes, the cold reminds him that he's here, alive and breathing. It was a bit depressing, but Floyd would rather freeze than relive those few seconds of nothingness.
He took another sip of his coffee, relishing in its warmth—his ear twitches when someone shuts a door further down the hall. A glimpse at the clock tells him it's only eight o'clock. Strange, his brothers shouldn't be up and about for a few more minutes. Floyd taps the warmed porcelain, wondering who it could be.
A moment later, he gets an answer when Branch stumbles in, making a beeline for the coffee pot. His dark hair is a rat's nest, sticking out every which way. Floyd chuckles as he watches the younger troll pour a cup and drink it straight— the heathen.
"Good morning," Floyd sings, snorting when his baby brother startles, nearly dropping his drink. Branch whirls around, somehow looking two seconds from conking out and wide awake simultaneously. Floyd offers a cheeky smile. The younger relaxes once he notices it is only his brother.
"Mornin'." Branch responds with a yawn, shuffling over and plopping down on the chair closest to Floyd.
The older hums, idly swirling the last bit of his drink, "Any plans for today?"
His brother takes a moment to respond, gulping half his cup and swallowing before replying. "Mm, no, not really. Poppy 'nd Viva are on a 'Sister Bonding Retreat,' whatever that means, and no one's asked me to repair anything." he shrugs. "How 'bout you?"
"None. Unless you consider resting an activity." Floyd smirks bitterly. He's done nothing but rest for three months, and sleeping is getting pretty dull.
Branch hums, downing the rest of the coffee and reclining into his chair. Warmth spreads across Floyd's when he realizes the other isn't leaving, a stark contrast to a few months ago when Branch would've fled the scene as soon as possible.
A relaxing silence falls over the two as they sit, each enjoying the pleasant ambiance. The magenta-haired troll startles as the other nuzzles into his shoulder. Branch's tail thumps against the chair, ears twitching happily. Floyd's heart overflows with joy, his younger brother had never initiated any physical contact before, so this was monumental. The pink troll chirps, cuddling against the blue troll with a faint purr.
The peace is interrupted by footsteps coming down the hall. Both brothers watch Clay and Bruce enter the kitchen, happily chatting with each other. They pause, their eyes widening slightly at the scene before them. Seconds pass without anyone making a move.
Clay breaks first, cooing softly at the youngest two. "Bruuuce, look at them. My heart is gonna melt," he says, squishing his cheeks. There's an undertone of teasing, which Floyd rolls his eyes at, but Clay's adoring gaze makes up for it. The green troll looks as if he may cry—the sap. Floyd can't judge, though; he's surprised there aren't tears in his eyes right now.
"Hey, why don't we get Branch cuddles?" Bruce pouts, maneuvering around Clay towards the coffee pot. Bruce's tone has Floyd smirking into his drink.
Branch huffs, nuzzling further into Floyd, attempting to hide an embarrassed blush. "Never. You're too annoying."
The older brothers let out offended cries, Floyd smugly sticking his tongue out at them.
Clay's face unexpectedly morphs into a mischievous grin as he moves closer to the table. "I think I'm experiencing Branch withdrawals. I may die if I don't get a Bitty B hug right now!" He dramatically swoons, leaning against Branch. "I'll do anything!"
Branch peeks up at the green-haired troll, smirking, "Anything?" he innocently asks.
"Anything." Clay nods.
"Then perish."
Floyd and Bruce fall into a fit of laughter while Clay gasps. "Oh, now you're gonna get it!" The green troll scoops up Branch, disregarding the younger's surprised yelp. Floyd pouts at the loss of warmth, but only for a second. He overlooks Clay's slight against him, instead preening at one of the rare times their brother lets himself have fun.
"Claaayy." Branch whines as his brother hugs him close, fluffy green tail reaching to wrap around them. Clay trills, burying his face into dark hair. Eventually, the youngest accepts his fate, melting into the embrace. He pointedly ignores his other brothers cooing.
Floyd's tail wags lazily behind him. He can tell today will be a good day. His pain hasn't flared up in the past few days, and he's been feeling refreshed all week. Bruce was visiting, which was always exciting. Not to mention, his brothers seem to be in high spirits- well, except one. He wonders where the eldest is; John is usually one of the first brothers to wake.
Just then, John Dory walks into the room, yawning.
Speak of the devil.
The teal troll surveys the kitchen, a dopey smile spreading onto his face. "Having fun, are we?" the eldest snorts, ruffling Clay's hair as he stalks towards the coffee pot. The middle child squawks, swerving out of the touch, careful not to drop Branch.
"Morning, Johnny." Floyd greets.
"Mornin' Flo." The teal troll sips his coffee before addressing the room. "Do any of you have anything to do today?" he asks.
Bruce shrugs, leaning against the counter. " Hm, no. There are still a few days until I head home, so I wanted to chill out a bit." He says this, pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee. Floyd gags.
"I gotta read some chapters for my book club, but that's all. Why?" Clay questions, finally allowing Branch down, slinging an arm over the youngest shoulders to prevent him from escaping.
John smiles, "Well, Rhonda needs a bath; I'm going down to the river if you'd like to join." His tone is hopeful, fingers nervously drumming on the mug in his hands.
"I'll go." Floyd smiles at the elder, tail flicking behind him.
"Sure," Branch says.
"Hm, reading by the water does sound relaxing." Clay hums thoughtfully.
Bruce nods, "Sounds like a plan."
Johns's smile broadens, his tail wagging happily, "Great! Meet up by the elevator in thirty?"
The brothers offer confirmations, excitement buzzing amongst them. Floyd hops off his chair, places his empty mug into the sink, and then heads for his room to pack a bag.
Thirty minutes later, Floyd heads towards the elevator where the rest of the family has gathered. The five chat idly as they ascend towards ground level, making sure to lock up once everyone exits the trapdoor. After a pit stop to get Rhonda, they're off into the woods. The brothers talk as they trek through the forest, Rhonda at the rear. They arrive at the river within twenty minutes, stopping by a large tree to drop their bags.
The river bank is quite beautiful, with bright green grass swaying in the breeze. Wildflowers sprout in clusters, adding dots of color to the area. Brilliant blue water flows, shimmering beautifully in the morning sunlight. A few animals run about, and bees are buzzing from flower to flower. Floyd takes a deep breath. The sweet scent of wildflowers mixes pleasantly with morning dew that clings to grass blades. Tension eases from his body instantly. This place is breathtaking.
Rhonda makes a mad dash for the water, causing a giant wave as she jumps in. The brothers laugh at the animal and cover their faces when water droplets fly in their direction.
"Well, I suppose that takes care of Rhonda's bath." John chuckles. The eldest shuts his eyes as he leans against the tree, head propped up by his paws.
"How generous of her to give us a bath as well." Branch deadpans. Floyd snorts at his tone; he can see a smile creeping on the youngest's face.
Clay retrieves a thick book from his pack, flipping to a dog-eared page. "I dunno about y'all, but this book is calling my name." The green troll sprawls out on the grass, resting the book on his knees.
Floyd glances around for something to keep him occupied. He brightens, spotting a patch of multicolored wildflowers. Oh yes, those will do nicely . He plucks a few lavender flowers, forming the beginnings of a flower crown.
Bruce shuffles around his pack, grinning when he uncovers the item he is looking for. The purple troll turns to Branch, deck of cards in hand. "Hey B, you up for a game of rummy? I'll even go easy on you." he teases, shuffling the cards.
The youngest smirks. "Oh, it's on, old man."
Floyd barks a laugh.
Bruce stammers, "I am not old, you brat!"
Branch simply flips him the bird.
As the two begin their game, Clay continues to read, occasionally laughing at Branch and Bruce's playful bickering. Floyd has moved on to his second crown, placing the first atop a slumbering John Dory, who has fallen asleep at an astonishing speed. The pink troll ties the delicate yellow flowers together, humming as he works.
The energy around them is pleasant. Comfortable.
Floyd could cry at the domesticity of it all. Just a few months ago, he'd been on the brink of death, and now he's with his brothers, making flower crowns of all things. He's reminded of days long ago when they would have picnics in the troll tree. Before the band, when John wasn't constantly reminding his brothers to be perfect, Spruce and Clay wouldn't force their smiles, and little feet would run up to him, pleading for someone to play with.
Time passes as Floyd loses himself in memories. The sun sits higher in the sky, partially covered by passing clouds. Bees continue pollinating flowers, flying past Rhonda. The armadillo bus rests on a patch of grass, tuckered out after playing in the water.
Floyd looks up when Bruce groans, throwing his cards down.
"How are you so good at this?" he asks, arms crossed.
"Maybe you just suck." Branch gives him a shit-eating grin.
Bruce scoffs. " Maybe you're just a little shit."
"Asshole."
"Your mother."
"We have the same mom!" Branch flings his hands up.
"Do you guys hear something? There's this aggravating ringing in my ears." Bruce massages his ear, pretending to wince. "It sounds a lot like Branch, actually."
The blue troll rolls his eyes.
Floyd chuckles. "Lay off, Bruce. We won't be able to afford your funeral expenses." He says this, tying flower stems together and completing the second crown.
The pink troll nudges Branch with his foot, smiling when the younger turns to him. Floyd presents the crown, waving it in the air. "C'mere."
The blue troll does so, scooting until he's next to Floyd. Branch's tail thumps against the ground as the crown slips onto his head, giggling as the leaves tickle his ears. Floyd's heart tugs at the sound of it. Branch had never entirely grown out of his childish laugh. He'd missed his brother's laugh. Hell, he missed everything about him. The pink troll brushes off the pang of guilt, turning his attention back to the youngest.
"You look adorable!" Floyd gushes, pinching his brother's flushed cheeks. Branch bats the hands away, ducking his head in embarrassment.
"Ugh, Floyd ." Branch complains, pushing him away.
Floyd relents his attack on the youngest's face, albeit reluctantly. His smile doesn't falter for a second, though.
"Sorry, Bits, I couldn't resist." he apologizes, not sounding sorry at all. Floyd pats the grass beside him, inviting. Branch accepts, scooting up to sit beside the pink troll. He observes as Floyd begins another crown, this time with pink flowers.
Bruce observes them with a fond smile, picking up their abandoned card game and stuffing the deck into his bag. Finding nothing else to do, the purple troll lies down, using his pack as a pillow. Within minutes, the purple troll is snoring softly, chest rising and falling with calm breaths. Clay had unknowingly joined the older two brothers, the book slipping from his hands as he unconsciously murmured incoherent words. With over half of their brothers sleeping, the youngest two bask in comfortable silence, save for Bruce's soft snoring and Clay's murmurs.
Floyd barely suppresses a jump when Branch leans into his side. He wasn't averse to the contact- far from it- but Branch initiating physical touch for the second time today was a surprise. Should he be concerned? Was this a good thing? Maybe Branch was upset about something and needed comfort. Floyd's stomach churns with anxiety. He should know Branch's mannerisms; this is his baby brother, for troll's sake. The elder quells his anxiety with a calming breath.
"Hey there." Floyd bonks their temples together—Branch hums. "You good?" he asks.
He feels Branch nod before the blue troll answers, "Just...Content. Happy." the youngest whispers.
Floyd releases a relieved breath and intertwines their tails. "I'm glad you're happy, baby." he says, nuzzling against his brother.
"M' not a baby." Branch mumbles.
The pink troll rolls his eyes. Truthfully, the nickname had slipped out. Even then, he can't help but feel a little justified, wanting to make up for the times he hadn't been able to call his brother embarrassing nicknames. Branch is going to have to deal with it.
Floyd snorts, "You'll always be my baby, no matter how big you get. My cute itty bitty baby brother." Floyd kisses his temple, laughing when Branch grumbles. "I am older than you, after all."
"You're insufferable is what you are."
"Aww, don't be like that, Branchie. You know you love us." John pipes up from Branch's other side, making the youngest jump. The teal troll cracks open an eye, ginning.
"Debatable." Branch scoffs.
"Come ooon, say it."
"Shut up, John."
"Not until you admit you love us!"
The eldest suddenly looks devilish, subtly moving closer to the youngest, paws raised. Unfortunately, Branch notices his advances and shoots up from his seat, tail puffed up in alarm.
"John Dory, do not—" John leaps forward, missing Branch by a hair.
Say it!" he yells, taking off as the blue troll sprints away.
"John, I swear to god— do not tickle me!"
"I won't have to if you say you love us!"
"Ugh! You're so weird. Why do you want me to say it so badly?!" Branch shouts, scurrying around Rhonda. The armadillo bus merely cracks an eye open, huffing disinterestedly.
Floyd chuckles, trying to smother his laughter so as not to wake the other two. His efforts are meaningless as Branch and John's hollering is loud enough to disturb the poor tolls from their nap.
"What are they doing?" Clay asks, sitting up with a yawn.
Floyd shrugs, "John wants Branch to tell him he loves him. It kinda escalated from there- oh! This is for you." he passes Clay the pink flower crown.
"Sweet! This looks awesome, bro." the green troll carefully positions the flowers atop his head, fist-bumping Floyd in gratitude.
Bruce props himself up on his elbows, chuckling when Branch dodges John's grasp again. "You're so slow, Johnny Boy! Is your old age catching up with you?" he hollers.
Floyd looks up from his new crown to see the eldest falling behind, visibly straining to keep up. As if to prove Bruce wrong, John leaps forward with a shout, snagging Branch's tail—the younger troll shrieks as he's yanked back into John's arms. Floyd has half a mind to remind the teal troll to be careful. It was an unspoken rule to be careful when roughhousing with the youngest, even if they are all adults now. Thankfully, Branch doesn't seem injured. The blue troll is now hysterically laughing between angry shouts, desperately trying to squirm away. John continues his attack, scrubbing his fingers against any exposed areas, narrowly dodging flying limbs. The youngest's cries for mercy ring across the river bank, frantic 'I love you's' broken by hysterical laughter disturb the peace. Floyd shakes his head fondly, returning to his previous task.
The felt flowers he's been weaving together are soft to the touch. They tickle the palms of his paws as he winds the stems around one another, mindful of the delicate petals. This crown is larger than the others, accommodating Bruce's big, poofy hair. John strides back up to them, Branch slung over his shoulder, just as Floyd completes the crown. Branch huffs once JD deposits him back onto the grass next to Floyd.
"Welp, another success for the old J-Dawg. Now I know for sure Bitty loooves his older brother. Amirite Bits?" The eldest plops down with a satisfied grin.
"You'd better watch your back, John Dory," the youngest seethes. "I know where you sleep."
At least the teal troll has the decency to look afraid. Floyd fondly rolls his eyes at the two. Astonishingly, their crowns remained intact, although John's was crooked. Good- John would not be spared if Floyd had to remake them. The pink troll plops Bruce's crown onto his hair, giggling when it almost slides off. The second eldest brother smiles.
"Thanks, Flo. I love it!" Bruce beams.
Floyd blushes at the praise, shyly ducking his head. The pink troll notes that only a few blue flowers remain from the patch he'd scavenged. He picks them, beginning the process one final time. Critters and bugs, scared off by the roughhousing, start filtering back into the clearing. Floyd can feel himself relax. Trilling critters and his brothers' chitchat become background noise as he works.
As he tightens knots onto his crown, he realizes something.
For the first time in two months, he was warm.