"Oh, hey, Branch... just wondering if I could borrow something...."

Branch raised an eyebrow at Poppy, thoroughly confused. "What?"

"Your bunker!"

Before he could ask what she meant, dozens upon dozens of Trolls who had not been captured by the Chef Bergen came tumbling down the sloping tunnel that led down into his bunker. Some squealed in delight as they slid down, and as soon as they'd reached the bottom began to ransack the place, grabbing the food and drinks that were there.

"No! No! Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!" Branch called out. But nobody was listening. He groaned, knowing that there would be a lot of cleanup to do to his brothers' rooms once they were all gone and out of there. And they would be, if he could help it. But first, he had to talk to the pink princess, who had brought all the Trolls in there without his permission in the first place.

                            __________________________________________________

Finally, Branch thought, observing the stunned look on Poppy's face that was an expression other than the smiles and laughs she'd had for the past hour.

He turned away from her, continuing the trek through the forest and avoiding staring too long at the hurt that was in her eyes. He ignored the little feeling inside of him that made him feel bad for what he'd said, and vouched to listen to the side of him that had dominated his survivalist lifestyle. It's the truth, he reasoned. And if she doesn't like it, that's her problem.

Poppy soon recovered and scurried up to his side in an effort to defend herself. "Hey! I know it's not all cupcakes and rainbows, but I'd rather go through life thinking that it mostly is, instead of being like you." She frowned slightly at him and vented the frustrations she had in her failure to get him to be a part of the Troll community. "You don't sing. You don't dance. You're so gray all the time! What happened to you?"

Branch had to suppress a snort. You don't know the HALF of it, he wanted to say. And Poppy didn't need to know his business. She didn't need to know what happened to his grandmother, or even before that event, when his four older brothers had picked up and left, leaving him to fend for himself with hardly a fair reason why. It had been his first taste of the real world and its cruelty. Something that Poppy clearly hadn't been exposed to. But Branch knew better than to go make his comment and stir even more questions from the curious princess. He held up a hand and suddenly hushed her. "SHH!"

Poppy halted, her fuchsia eyes wide. "Bergen?" she asked.

"Maybe," he whispered back.

It was only a few moments later, when Branch proceeded and when nothing ominous seemed to be lurking in the shadows, did Poppy realize what was really going on.

"There's no Bergen, is there? You just said that so I'd stop talking!"

Branch stopped to answer once again. "Maybe."

                            __________________________________________________

Who does this guy think he is? Branch's inner thoughts growled.

He and Poppy were wasting valuable time, standing here and putting up with this cloud dude's antics. If Poppy really cared about the safety of her friends, then she'd see how pointless this whole thing was. But nooooo. She had to be there, off to the side, giggling at Branch's perplexion and at how the socked cloud was snickering.

Yeah... he's getting socked by the time THIS is over, Branch thought, and this time he wasn't speaking of the cloud's article of clothing.

Since the high-five had failed to follow through, Branch was now forced to implement a fist-bump. But he should have known better than to believe it was going to be that easy. As soon as Branch began moving his fist forward, Cloud Guy reacted with a series of hand motions that were literally anything EXCEPT the fist-bump that he himself had wanted to do. Branch was far too baffled to be mad when it was happening, having no clue what a 'shark attack,' 'hand sandwich,' 'monkey in a zoo,' and whatever other nonsense the cloud was saying even was... and thinking of a certain yellow-haired prankster who just might.

But the fleeting thought of his older, jokey brother vanished when Branch felt his arm hauled roughly from side to side, while Cloud Guy made engine-like sounds. "BRRRM! VRRRM! BRRRRRM! BRUUM!"

Then, he did something that made Branch's patience wear even thinner than it already was. He laughed, an obnoxious, chortling laugh. And Poppy laughed, too!

"Okay, okay, okay," Cloud Guy said, recomposing himself. "Now I'm thinking we hug."

There went the last straw.

With a scowl, Branch grabbed a stick, broke it in half, and aimed the sharp ends at Cloud Guy with a menacing look in his eyes.

Cloud Guy finally seemed to get the message.

He stood there with his outstretched hands, turning a thundercloud-gray and raining a puddle of fear on the ground. He was in for it now.

With a shout, Branch gave chase, with Poppy running after him in alarm.

"Branch! No! Wait! He's just a cloud! He can help us! He's just a cloud! Run, Cloud Guy, RUN!"

                            __________________________________________________

Here she was, at it again. Only this time, Poppy was refusing to drop the subject, and Branch couldn't think of a way to divert the topic. She was being very blunt with him, and it was driving him up the wall.

"You have to sing," she insisted.

"I told you, I don't sing," he argued.

"Well, you have to."

"I'm sorry, I can't." They could go back and forth like this all day for all Branch cared.

Poppy frowned at him. "You can. You just won't."

"Fine. I just won't," Branch grumbled stubbornly.

"You have to!" she cried.

"NO!"

"Why not! Why won't you sing?" Poppy demanded.

"Because singing killed my grandma, okay!" Branch finally blurted. He turned his face away from her and the rest of the Snack Pack who'd gasped at this revelation, so that they couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. "Now leave me alone..."

Poppy had gotten her answer, but even as he asked to have his space, he had known that she wouldn't just stop there. Thankfully, her approach was less pestering than it had been a few seconds ago. She cautiously approached him, and spoke in a soft voice.

"How did singing kill your grandma?" Poppy asked. Then, even more confused, added, "What song was she singing?"

Branch sighed. "I was the one singing..." he admitted, hanging his head in shame as the horrible images flashed through his mind. Of how tall and ominous the Chef had looked when snatching his Grandma. Of her terrified face, fearful at first for nearly coming to lose her only remaining grandson, and then fearful for the fate that awaited her in the Bergen's stomach. He'd turned gray once he'd come to the awful realization that nobody – not his parents, not his brothers, nor his Grandmother – were there with him anymore.

Poppy felt terrible hearing his abridged version of the memory, and she'd leaned in to give him a hug.

"Whoa, whoa, it's not Hug Time," he said, a little half-heartedly and not making any moves to shove her away.

"I just thought you could use one," she replied, pressing him a little tighter against her.

While Branch didn't allow the smirk that wanted to tug at the corner of his lip to show, he still did kind of enjoy the condolence that her hug brought.

Heh, his conscience even chuckled, I guess she does know the half of it, now.

But Branch would make sure not to have her find out the second half of his story until much, much later. His brothers were not relevant to the conversation. And, considering it from the point of view of Poppy and the Snack Pack, they probably sought it as a suitable enough explanation for his pessimism.

So Branch just let it be.

                            __________________________________________________

Survivalism meant having plenty of tactics handy. So killing two birds with one stone, so to speak, was a very beneficial strategy. And it was working oh so very well for Branch as he, in a heartfelt manner, whispered elegant words from atop of Bridget's head.

"Your eyes... they're like two pools so deep, I fear if I dive in, I may never come up for air..."

Bridget repeated the words, a little hesitantly, to King Gristle, who sat across from her with a frown on his face, believing that she had been intent on mocking him before. As he heard her speak, however, his frown disappeared, and the Bergen was enraptured by the sudden compliments she was giving him.

Or, so it seemed. Branch was guiding her alright, but it wasn't King Gristle who'd he had in mind when he was speaking. It was a certain Pop Princess, who, at that moment, was staring in awe at Branch as he continued.

"And your smile... the sun itself turns jealous and refuses to come out from behind the clouds, knowing it cannot shine half as bright..."

King Gristle chuckled bashfully when Bridget had finished repeating those words. "I kinda do have a nice smile, don't I?"

Branch's gaze shifted to Poppy, whispering the next words as he looked directly at her.

"Yes, you do."

If Branch squinted his eyes, he could've sworn he saw Poppy blush, but the dim lighting underneath Bridget's rainbow-colored wig was making it a little difficult to see all that well. There was a warmth tingling through him, one that he recognized would blossom whenever he thought of the princess, only it was more pronounced this time around. Had he really said those words out loud? He couldn't help wondering which one of his brothers would be prouder – Spruce, for coming off as so incredibly romantic and likely winning Poppy over with his charming flattery, or Floyd, for how poetically crafted his words were. Either way, it had produced the exact effect that Branch had wanted.

                            __________________________________________________

Branch flinched at the loud, bellowing sound that came out of the large creature standing before them. A second later, Poppy revealed herself from the inside of it, hanging casually and giving a cheery little greeting wave. Normally, a sight like this would have startled the blue Troll, but the fact that the queen did not show any fear at being in the mouth of the beast - and neither did any of their other friends - relaxed him a bit.

Because this mode of transportation was known as a caterbus, a hybrid living-vehicle sort of being that was perfectly safe to travel inside of.

Branch scrunched his nose. He didn't mind the creatures that nature had... so long as they were smaller than him. Once they started getting bigger than the standard 5-inch height that Trolls had, he had his reservations. He supposed it was his former fear of Bergens at work. He could never shake off what could have happened if he'd not arrived in time for when the spiders had Poppy wrapped inside their silk.

Not that any of it would have bothered his oldest brother.

Branch rolled his eyes as John Dory's face suddenly came into mind. With JD's love for animals, he believed himself to be a whisperer to any creature, big or small. If Branch had to take a guess, John Dory probably had a pet of his own by this point (or several).

But he wasn't going to guess about what his airheaded brother was doing.

If anything, he was going to take a guess at what Bridget and Gristle's reactions would be when they learned of Poppy's crazy idea to give the Bergens a proper holiday!

"Alll aboooard!" Poppy called out, and he and the Snack Pack took it at their cue hop into the caterbus and get this wagon train rolling.

Or rather, the love train.

                            __________________________________________________

Branch shook his head, tilting it to one side and smacking it with his hand as though there was water clogged up in his ears. "Okay, maybe all the jazz hasn't left my brain yet," he mumbled, knowing just how out of sorts he'd been when the smooth musical notes had assaulted him on the raft with its soothing melody.

Cooper just laughed at him. "Oh, come on, Branch! It's me!" the long-necked Troll assured. "Turns out I'm actually from Vibe City, just like my twin brother." Cooper sidled up to the identical-looking Troll who'd been causing Branch to think that he was still hallucinating.

"What's poppin'?" Prince Darnell greeted with a grin, as he and Cooper laughed with each other.

"I've got a twin brother!" Cooper exclaimed happily. He really couldn't believe it!

Neither could Branch, who stood there gawking for a moment more while his gaze flicked between the two, back and forth, like a ping pong ball.

And neither could Poppy, who blurted out with "How is this possible?!"

Luckily, Cooper took the next few minutes explaining exactly how. And in the end, Branch found that it was a story of long-lost family coming to finally reunite, happily and heartily, together – at least, if any of the laughs and hugs shared between brothers, mother and father (aka, the King and Queen of Funk) was anything to go by.

Branch watched with a strange pang of envy that was very subtly in the back of his conscience, but still very much present. Envy for how... easy they made it look. Granted, though, Cooper's story was different. It couldn't be helped that he'd gotten snatched as an egg, carried off far from his homeland, and therefore separated for just about two whole decades.

A family reunion with his brothers, who had willingly ensured the separation, would be much different...

                            __________________________________________________

Dance off?

Branch hardly had a minute to even think about what was about to happen before the K-Pop gang had hurled him over to them, untying him and promptly starting to bust some moves all around.

Branch was surprised by the sudden change in lighting, and the bouncy, foreign-sounding music that the five girls were making. The K-Pop leader had been right – Pop music was different from K-Pop. Branch didn't have much time to start nitpicking the specific differences, as Wani shot him a hard glare, making him realize that they'd actually untied him so that he could join in their dance!

Flustered, Branch quickly plastered on a smile and began to groove along with them, surprising himself with how quickly he was able to pick up the choreography. By the time he and the quintet struck the final pose, the smile that he'd had on his face was real.

Wow... was it always this fun dancing in a group?

As if the universe had heard his question, it readily provided an answer when the Reggaeton Troll leader, Tressillo, suddenly grabbed him and hauled him over to their side of the clearing, starting to dance to their own unique beat. Now that Branch actually knew what was happening, he got into the flow much faster, and really was enjoying himself as he kept in time with the other three, shaking his hips and getting down with it.

Ooo, yeah! It really was still fun dancing in a group! They weren't the exact type of moves that he, John Dory, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd would've done if they'd been performing for a BroZone show, but it didn't matter. He liked the differences... and wished that the bounty hunters would see it the same way, instead of tying him back up and debating the matter.

"Why don't we split him?" Wani suddenly suggested.

"Huh?" Branch gulped when he saw Tressillo agree to the idea. Just as they were about to close in and divvy him up, he managed to find his voice.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait... why does Barb get to decide which music gets to be saved? All music should be saved."

The K-Pop and Reggaeton Trolls gave him a blank look. Then, Tressillo spoke.

"All right, Pop Troll, I'm listening..."

                            __________________________________________________

By definition, Branch could absolutely say he was sprucin' up.

Not that he'd use the term. Why would he, when it brought bad reminders of one purple-haired Troll who'd shared his name with the phrase?

Branch hurriedly focused on preparing himself for the occasion, which - he was quite giddy to tell anyone who would ask him once he'd leave the bunker - would be a date with the Pop Queen herself!

He slipped on his vest, shrugging it on his shoulders in a way that he felt to be 'cool,' like John Dory may have done.

He tugged on his new burgundy shorts with just about as much enthusiasm as Clay might've pulled off in the days that he actually enjoyed wearing the yellow-and-green Funderdrawers.

He fixed his Hug Time bracelet on his wrist, and adjusted a brand-new red bowtie on his neck, recalling how Floyd would've taken the same careful measures when clipping on his own accessory, namely, the pearl earring he'd constantly worn.

Last but not least, Branch grabbed a handful of snail-slime goop from a jar, and sleeked it into his dark blue hair, making as shiny and smooth as Spruce himself would have approved of.

Determinedly snapping on some earmuffs and clutching a fresh handful of flowers, he faced the chill afternoon air outside of his bunker with determination.

"Tis the season!"

                            __________________________________________________

A/N: Alright everyone, this will actually be my last daily fic update for the time being. Stay tuned for an announcement that I'll be posting tomorrow! :) 💖