TROLLS: what if branch's brothers never left

Brozone in: infected

Clay jolted awake at his desk, gasping for breath. Books and scattered papers covered the table, and the candle beside him had long burned out. His chest heaved as the nightmare still clung to his mind — Branch's cries, the black veins, the horror of losing him.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to calm down, but the panic wouldn't fade. "Branch..." he muttered, standing so quickly his chair toppled backward. He stumbled out of the research room and hurried down the tunnel toward their trollpod.

Bursting inside, Clay's voice cracked, "Where's Branch? Is he okay? I have to see him—now!"

John Dory nearly jumped at the sudden outburst. "Clay, calm down!"

"Where is he?" Clay demanded, scanning the pod frantically.

"Shh," John said, lowering his voice and gently pulling back a curtain. "He's fine."

Behind it, Branch was asleep, curled up under a blanket, breathing softly. The peaceful rise and fall of his chest made the tension in the room melt slightly.

But Clay couldn't let it go. "Is he infected? I need to check—wake him up, I have to make sure—"

"Clay, stop!" Floyd said, stepping in front of him. "Branch isn't infected. He's okay. He just needs rest—we all do."

Clay stood frozen, his breath still uneven. His gaze lingered on Branch's sleeping form, then slowly lowered to the floor.

"Yeah..." he whispered, voice trembling. "Yeah... I just—had a dream. It felt so real."

John rested a hand on his shoulder. "We've all had those dreams, Clay. But he's safe. We're safe. For now."

Clay nodded weakly, finally sitting down as his hands shook. He stared at Branch one more time, whispering to himself, "Don't you scare me like that again, little bro..."

The next week, the air outside the trollpod was damp and heavy with mist. Branch was heading out when Clay spotted him slipping toward the exit.

"Whoa, whoa, hey—where do you think you're going?" Clay asked, blocking the doorway.

Branch froze mid-step, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh... hunting with John and Viva. We're checking for any infected in the north sector."

"Oh no, you're not." Clay crossed his arms. "You're staying here where it's safe."

"But, Clay—" Branch started, frustration flashing in his eyes.

"It's okay, lil' bro," John said as he tightened the strap on his crossbow. "You've done enough. Let me handle this one." He gave Branch a reassuring smile. "You need to rest."

Branch frowned, but before he could argue again, John called, "Let's go, Viva." The two left, their voices fading into the forest.

That left Clay and Branch alone. The silence between them was thick, uncomfortable. Clay rubbed the back of his head, searching for something—anything—to say.

"So, uh... we're almost on the verge of finding a cure," Clay said nervously, flipping through his notes.

Branch didn't look up. "Oh really."

"Yeah," Clay continued, forcing optimism. "I'm this close to a breakthrough. Once I crack the code, we can cure everyone—save Poppy, save the village."

Branch's tone turned cold. "Yeah, and then what? Once everyone's cured, you'll leave. Isn't that what you and Viva planned? Leaving us behind?"

Clay's eyes narrowed. "Now don't you start with this again, Branch. I don't wanna fight—not when we're in the middle of a crisis."