Two Months

It'll be okay, I promise.

Floyd looked so peaceful when he slept, Clay noted. If only that same look remained on his face throughout the day. Most of the time he appeared to either be on edge or uncomfortable in some way. Sometimes a mixture of the two.

It made Clay sad, and he could tell it upset the others as well. For the longest time, Floyd was the youngest, and they were all super protective of him because of that, whether they showed it or not. They'd always tease him relentlessly for being the sensitive one of them all, but in reality, they — or at least Clay — were always jealous that he was able to express himself so freely. It never occurred to him that he could do the same whenever he wanted.

He was supposed to be the fun one, the one who always made jokes at the best and worst times. He based his entire personality on his role in the band, which probably wasn't the best idea. It's why he completely changed who he was once he and Viva had established Putt Putt Village. Speaking of which, he'd have to go back soon in order to let those who were still there know that it was safe to move back with the other Pop Trolls.

There was so much to be done when that did happen, and just the thought of it was overwhelming for Clay.

Is this what Floyd felt like whenever he was lost in thought? Or was it different because Floyd had other things on his mind? Did his little brother feel a slight sense of dread when he realized just how much there was going on?

Great, thought Clay. Now I feel bad for making fun of him for this when we were little.

"I'm sorry, Floyd," he whispered. "I should've been more considerate towards you and your feelings back when we were still young. I don't know if you can hear me or not while you sleep, but if you can, I want you to know that I love you, and I never stopped thinking about you or any of our brothers."

When there wasn't any response from Floyd, not like Clay really expected one, silence took over again, and the two laid on the bed peacefully. It was late, so Clay decided he would try to get some sleep in. If his other brothers got worried, they'd come in, see them sleeping, and hopefully leave it at that. And if any of them dared wake him or Floyd up, Clay would make sure they regretted it.

After Clay had kicked them all out, John Dory, Bruce, and Branch had gone to the living area. Branch had offered to make a late-night snack, but no one was feeling hungry at the moment. They were all too worried about Floyd's well-being and couldn't help but wonder why in the world he had decided it was a good idea to not only keep the pain to himself, but then try to push through it even more. Even if it was to get help, it wasn't the smartest idea.

Despite having declined the offer of food, Branch still gathered a few snacks and things they could munch on, just in case they did end up wanting some. It was also something he did to occupy his mind and collect his thoughts. Now, don't tell anyone this, but Floyd was probably his favorite brother. He was the only one who had promised to come back, and even if he didn't, that small sliver of hope helped keep Branch going during all those years he was grey and alone. He even kept wearing the vest that Floyd had given him as a sort of parting gift.

None of the others had done that, and it quite frankly angered Branch. The three oldest didn't think twice before ditching him. Sure, John Dory had said he eventually went back to the Troll Tree, but immediately assumed they were all dead, never to be seen again.

But at least they were here now, and while that didn't make up for the fact that they walked out on each other, it wouldn't do any of them any good to hold onto the past. Right now was a time for making new memories and getting to know everyone once again. Maybe that could be their next family activity. Just a quiet day inside, talking about how their lives had been going for them. Clearly Bruce had a lot that went on, so who knows that the others were up to.