Chapter Text
Branch didn’t know how long he sat with his back resting against the wall of rocks. When Poppy left, he’d been left to focus on his breathing as well as his surroundings.
Anything but the throbbing pain in his leg.
It wasn’t serious. In his haste to get Poppy out of the way, he wasn’t able to fully dodge all of the rocks.
But it was fine. He was fine.
“Branch!”
He didn’t remember shutting his eyes. “Poppy?” He heard her sniffle on the other side. “Poppy, what’s wrong?”
“The exit. It got blocked off,” Poppy revealed, all traces of her previous enthusiasm and optimism had vanished.
Branch sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. When had it gotten so cold?
“Now what are we going to do?” Poppy asked, just barely loud enough.
It was a good question.
He almost suggested trying to tear down the wall in between the two of them, but if multiple spots had caved in then it was clear that this cave was not structurally stable.
Branch let his head fall back against the rock. “We have to get out of here, Poppy.”
“But, how?”
“We’ll just have to pick a direction and start walking. There were some other tunnels that we passed; Try one of those.”
Poppy sniffled.
Branch bit his lip. “We’ll reunite. Whether it’s in the cave or outside. We’ll meet again. I won’t just leave you out here.”
“How can you know that? How are you supposed to find me?”
“I’ll find a way,” Branch assured, “I’ll get out and I’ll sing the loudest song ever. There’s no way that you won’t be able to hear me.”
“But, what about predators?” Poppy sounded so small. “Aren’t you worried about them hearing you?”
Yes.
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” Truthfully, Branch wasn’t sure.
But, then again, he wasn’t even sure he was going to be able to make it out of this cave.
Poppy sniffled. “Branch?”
“Yes, Poppy?”
“...You’re going to help me scrapbook this when we get home, right?”
Despite her being on the other side, he still felt his lips twitch into a sad smile. “Of course, Poppy.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He blinked tears out of his eyes as he finally pushed himself up. “We should get moving, Poppy. It’s not safe to linger.”
Poppy made a quiet noise. “I’ll see you later, Branch.”
“See you later, Poppy.” Branch clenched his jaw as he put a little, testing weight on his injured leg.
He just had to keep moving, no matter what.
.
Branch slid down the wall with a grunt. Just for a minute, he would rest.
He’d made it a few paces away from the cave-in before he finally got to work on disinfecting and bandaging the cut on his leg.
He’d deny that he’d only walked away from the cave-in to make sure Poppy didn’t hear him if he were to yelp or cry out.
It would help prevent infection and the tight bandaging that he’d done with shaky paws would decrease the chances of him bleeding out and dying.
He rested his aching head in his paws. He was dizzy and tired enough that he almost wanted to just lie down and sleep.
No.
He had to keep moving. He couldn’t afford to sleep now, not while he was injured and stuck inside an unstable cave.
He used the wall as a crutch as he stumbled. His right leg was beginning to get sore from carrying most of his weight, but his other leg buckled any time he tried to rest his weight on it.
Not that he had tried too many times. The agonizing pain that shot up his leg did enough to deter him.
Branch closed his eyes and leaned heavier against the damp wall of the cave as another wave of dizziness washed over him.
He only let himself rest for a second before he once again began to unsteadily make his way forward.
He just hoped that Poppy was having an easier time than he was.
.
After a long while of limping and trudging forward, he finally came to a point in the cave where the path split into two.
It hadn’t taken him long to decide which direction to go. As there was only one direction he could really go.
“Right path it is,” Branch murmured under his breath as he continued trudging forward.
One. Two. Three. Four.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Branch counted his steps. Focusing on keeping track of the numbers in a pitiful attempt at ignoring the shooting pain.
At some point, when he was focusing on counting, his blinks started becoming longer and his eyelids felt heavier.
One. Two. Three. Four.
One. Two-
Branch’s mouth dropped in a silent scream of pain as his left foot landed in a small, unexpected, divot in the ground. His left leg didn’t last longer than half of a second under the weight of his body. It was hard to feel the pain of crashing into the ground above the sharp, burning pain in his leg.
-
Poppy felt hesitant about leaving Branch’s side. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her that something was wrong, that he wasn’t okay, and that she was never going to see him again.
Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. She couldn’t afford to think like that, no matter what, she had to stay optimistic.
She walked all the way back to where the opening should have been. She counted four pathways. Three on the left side, and one on the right.
All she had to do was pick one.
No stress.
One path might lead to the outside and the others might just drag her further into the cave.
.
Poppy’s steps grew more confident as she progressed through the cave. All roads lead somewhere, after all!
The cave was dark, aside from the little illuminating bugs clinging to the walls. It was also slightly damp, a few times a drop of water had fallen on her face.
Never going caving again would be too soon, she thought to herself.
She shivered as a faint draft passed through the cave. She wished she had brought a change of clothes.
Wouldn’t that be nice? A hot shower and a new, clean dress.
She sighed.
A troll could dream.
“The first thing I’m doing when I get home is take a long shower,” She muttered to herself as she trudged through the cave. Maybe she’d eat a snack, maybe some cupcakes or a cake, and then take a nice nap in her comfy bed.
“I haven’t slept in a bed like that in years.”
She’d probably plan an impromptu sleepover. Branch couldn’t actually prefer sleeping on a hard surface over a nice, plush bed.
Or maybe he did?
Poppy hummed to herself. She was sure they made firmer but just as comfortable beds.
She’d have to find out about that when she got back. On the chance that she didn’t, she had a good business proposal to make to the troll that was in charge of bed-making.
Then Branch could get a comfortable bed.
Her ears drooped slightly and her stomach churned. She wondered how Branch was doing.
What had happened to him? Did a rock fall on his leg? Did he sprain something? Did he get cut?
She shook her head once again. Branch was smart. If he said that he was fine, well, then she trusted him to actually be fine.
He was resourceful and prepared, too. So even if he had gotten cut or something, she was sure he had some supplies to deal with that.
Despite the situation, she felt her lips twitch into a smile. She thinks when this is all over, she’ll add him to her photo collection.
She mused about where she should put his photo -should she expand more leftward or more rightward?- as she continued walking until the path she was following broke into two.
Left or right.
-
When his senses finally came back to him, he used what little strength he had to roll himself onto his back. Blearily blinking up at the ceiling of the cave.
His leg was still screaming at him, as was his wrist. He thinks he may have sprained it when he landed on it.
Well.
At least he was alone.
Branch swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut when he felt a familiar sting in his eyes.
Cold and alone.
Branch felt numb.
He knew that he was gross, that he probably looked like an ugly, deformed mess. ”We can’t let the fans see you like this!”
He’d long since given up on trying to clean the tear tracks that stained his cheeks. Every time he thought he’d finally run out of tears, more came and slipped down his cheeks.
There were leaves in his hair; leaves not too dissimilar to the ones Floyd’s vest made out of. Branch had long since tossed that into the corner of the pod. Unwilling to look at it any longer.
Branch wished he could feel something. Wished he could find it in himself to be angry, to be hurt, to be sad.
Instead, he felt helplessly numb. Unable to conjure enough energy to do anything other than blink up at the ceiling of the pod from where he lay sprawled on the ground.
“Now what?”
Unsurprisingly, no one answered.
Branch clenched his jaw to prevent any more sobs from escaping.
He sniffed and forced heavy paws up to wipe at his eyes. He had to keep moving.
“Oh, I think you're standing on my left foot,” Branch sang to himself as he used the wall to prop himself into a sitting position.
“It's hurting, but that's okay.” Branch sighed as he rested against the wall, waiting for himself to get used to the new position.
The next lyrics were quietly sung under his breath as he slowly forced himself into a standing position. Gritting his teeth and tightening his grip on the wall.
“I'll walk with the other one.” Branch ignored the throbbing in his wrist and began walking once again.
His brothers weren’t going to come for him. There was no Clay to gently scoop him off of the ground and silently clean him up. No Floyd to hold him close, muttering apologies under his breath and promises to never, ever abandon him again.
It was just him.
“You're free to have everything you can see. All that you want from me.”
There was no John Dory to tell him how he needed to sing, how he needed to dance, what tone his songs needed to be, what beat, what type of song—“Free to be all that you want to be!”
It was just him.
Branch continued to hobble forward.
And that was…fine.
He didn’t need his brothers. He didn’t need them to give him orders, to force him into a neat little box on a shelf, only to be dragged out for a performance before being tucked out of sight once again. Didn’t need them to pretend to care with their warm smiles and half-hearted questions of whether he was okay.
Faintly, he heard the sound of rain pouring down echoing down a tunnel. Upon hearing the sound, Branch lifted his gaze from the ground— desperate not to make the same mistake he had previously.
Some feet in front of him were three tunnels.
Branch took a deep breath and tried to focus as best as he could. If there was an opening, then there would be some kind of airflow.
A small part of him, despite the situation, felt proud of himself for being able to recall such a seemingly small detail.
His brothers probably would have sat and bickered and argued about which direction to go. Maybe John Dory would have immediately suggested straight or maybe left. Bruce probably would have called him out for being bossy.
Eventually, Clay would get involved and Floyd would try to intervene. And Branch would fade to the background.
Just as he always had.
This time, Branch stumbled forward. He fell a few times before pushing himself back up.
And this time, he was doing it for himself.
He wasn’t getting up and persevering to give some kind of top-notch performance for the fans so he didn’t disappoint his brothers.
“Fake it until you make it, Bitty B!”
He lingered in the entryway of each cave as he tried to follow the draft.
He’d get out of here. He’d reunite with Poppy and then they would find their way back to Pop Village.
He’d probably finish recuperating in his bunker, though. Safely hidden away from his brothers and any other prying eyes.
Maybe he’d tell Poppy about the bunker? Then he could fulfill the stupid promise he had made to her.
Why had he even agreed to that? Why had she even wanted him to help her scrapbook, was the real question.
Branch shook his head. That was a worry for another time.
Right now, he needed to focus on following the draft.