Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was Floyd who first noticed there was something wrong with Branch.  

For all intents and purposes, Branch may as well have been the happiest baby alive. He was a bundle of smiles and giggles that was rarely fussy, even when the rest of his brothers were in a foul mood.  

Whenever the pressures of band life got to be too much, Floyd could always count on his younger brother to make his day a little better. While he would never say he had a favorite, he could admit to himself that if he did, it would be little Branch.  

Part of this was probably due to the amount of time the two spent together. Branch was a clingy baby and did not like to be left to his own devices for long. Because of this, whenever he was awake, he was always glued to one of his brothers. Usually, this meant John Dory, as he was the only one of them who could change a diaper.  

Right behind him, however, was Floyd. The pink-haired troll had initially been pretty hesitant around the new edition to their family, an odd mix of nerves and jealousy after having been the baby of the group for so long himself. This didn’t last long though, as the first time he’d heard the baby laugh, his heart had practically turned to goo in his chest.  

Since then, if the younger troll wasn’t being watched by his oldest brother or grandmother, he would be firmly attached to Floyd’s side.  

He loved spending time with his only baby brother, whether it be drawing, playing games, or just napping together. After being the youngest for most of his life, it was refreshing to play the part of the older brother.  

Branch made it doubly easier by being the calmest baby known to man. While he was usually quite clingy, sometimes demanding physical contact like it was air, when he really got into something, it was like the rest of the world went away.  

There were times they would sit him in front of a puzzle, just to get him out of the way while practicing or doing chores, and the infant would sit there for hours. No amount of singing or yelling could tear his focus away from whatever it was he deemed interesting. He would only stop when one of them finally picked him up, and then it was back to smiles and laughter.  

So, aside from the occasional quirk, Branch had seemed to be an average baby for the first year or so. It was only after he had his first birthday that things seemed to go downhill for the boy.  

Oh, he was still as happy as he could be, no force on earth could change that. The problem was that Branch had failed to hit some pretty major milestones in his development.  

Branch was now officially a year old, and most trolls his age had already started to use simple words or phrases when speaking. When it came to Branch, he wasn’t speaking at all.  

While the infant certainly made noises, excited squeals or angry shouts, he had yet to move past baby babble when it came to speech. He would babble almost constantly, but it was all just gibberish, little noises he didn’t even seem to be aware of making.  

None of them had been too concerned at first, all babies develop at their own pace, after all. It was only after months of no improvement that anyone in the household became truly worried about their youngest sibling.  

A quick trip to the clinic later, and they were told not to worry, to just wait for Branch to sort himself out in his own time. This worked to alleviate their stress for a time, but when more and more issues started popping up, they couldn’t help but grow concerned.  

By one and half, Branch still wasn’t speaking, and even more worrying, he was showing a frightening lack of musical talent. While not all trolls were born boy band material, a trolling was expected to at least be able to pick up a rhythm before their second birthday.  

Trolls were a musical species. Their most important feelings were communicated in song, and music served as the lifeblood of their society. All trolls were born surrounded by music, and as such, picked up on it before they could even form proper sentences.  

At Branch’s age, they were expecting to see him start exploring his musical side. That meant copying melodies, playing with instruments, and creating his own beats. Branch was nearly two, and seemed as interested in music as he was in eating his vegetables.  

In an effort to help Branch move past this hurdle, all the brothers took their shot in getting him invested in music.  

JD would write their band songs with Branch in his hair, asking what he thought of this or that melody or lyric. Each time Branch would ignore him, instead preferring to messily braid the teal strands surrounding him. It was a complete failure when it came to music.  

Bruce would take Branch with him to parties, surrounding him with a wide variety of beats and voices. He claimed he was helping their brother, but Floyd had a suspicion that the baby was actually serving as the world’s cutest wingman. Still, it didn’t help Branch in the slightest.  

Clay took a different approach, trying to teach the kid to dance rather than sing. While Branch always had fun trying to copy his brother’s wacky moves, he couldn’t keep a beat to save his life. These ‘training sessions’ always devolved into Branch flailing his limbs whichever way he wanted. So, once again, a failure in the music department, but a possible win when it came to interpretive dance.  

Floyd’s solution also happened to be the simplest. Instead of trying to get his baby brother to do something he wasn’t interested in, Floyd would simply sing to him . Whether they were painting or folding laundry, the older troll made it his mission to ensure he was always making music near the trolling.  

He would mumble a song, tap a beat with his fingers, or even hum a lullaby while he put the boy to sleep. In fact, that was exactly how the two could be found now.  

They were laying on the couch, Branch’s face tucked snuggly into Floyd’s chest. The older troll hummed a simple lullaby he remembered from his own younger days, and the baby responded beautifully to it. The infant pressed his sleeping face deeper into his living pillow, seemingly chasing the vibrations reverberating through the older’s chest.  

He may not be ready to join the rest of his brothers on stage, but even this was progress for the little blue troll. As the minutes ticked by, Floyd found his own eyelids becoming heavier, the warm weight on his chest slowly lulling him to sleep.  

He was barely drifting off when a sudden, sharp sound thrust him back into awareness. He wanted to jump out of his skin, but barely restrained himself so that he wouldn’t end up flinging his brother halfway across the room.  

Looking up, he came face to face with a smiling Clay, his snickering muffled behind one hand while the other held an airhorn. Instantly, Floyd felt his temper rise as he realized he had just been the victim of another one of older brother’s pranks.  

“Seriuosly, Clay, what the hell is your problem!” He angrily whispered at his older brother, trying not to startle the trolling on his chest any more than he had been.  

When Clay finally finished laughing, he wiped a tear from his eye before rolling them. “Jeez man, don’t get your panties in a twist. It was just a joke!”  

“Just,” Floyd spluttered, “just a joke? Are you kidding me right now? How is giving us heart attacks while were trying to sleep a joke to you!?” He finished his rant by curling protectively around the little bundle on his chest, eyes glaring daggers at the yellow haired troll.  

Clay scoffed, pointing down. “Okay, first of all, your reaction was hilarious, so it was definitely a joke. Secondly, Bitty B doesn’t look all that upset to me. Lil’ man is still snoring.”  

Floyd’s eyes widened in surprise, and when he glanced down, sure enough, Branch was still dead to the world. His little brother snored softly as he sucked on the thumb in his mouth, the perfect picture of cozy.  

The pink haired troll was left speechless. How the hell had his brother slept through that? That airhorn would have woken JD up, and he was practically comatose when he slept.  

Clay took his silence as a sign that he was right and smirked, turning around and heading towards the door. This snapped Floyd out of his stupor, and he called out to their older sibling before he could leave.  

“Clay. Leave it.”  

The troll in question turned around, one eyebrow raised. “What? I don’t know what you're talking about.”  

Floyd’s scowl deepened. “Yes, you do. Now, leave it on the coffee table, or else I’ll tell grandma exactly what you just tried to do to baby Branch. At least if I have it, you may actually have a chance at getting it back within the next decade.”  

That seemed to do the trick, as after looking conflicted for a moment, the older troll turned around and slammed the airhorn on the table. He then spun back around and left the room in a huff, and Floyd could have sworn he heard a faint “Tattletail,” from his direction.  

When he was gone, Floyd relaxed, dropping back onto the cushions. He spared a glimpse at the small bundle he held, fingers sliding through his soft blue hair as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.  

Why wouldn’t Branch wake up when Clay blew that stupid horn? Was he really that heavy of a sleeper?  

As if reading his mind, the small trolling began to open his eyes, big baby blues being revealed to the world once again. He couldn’t help but smile as his little brother tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, a large yawn overtaking his small body.  

When blue eyes locked onto his magenta, his smile widened, and he couldn’t resist scooping the baby up as he swung his legs over the side of the couch.  

“Hey, Bitty B, did you have a nice nap?” Branch just giggled, his chubby hands clinging onto Floyd’s green vest.  

“How about we do something fun, just the two of us.” He didn’t wait for a response before he stood up and made his way over to their DIY craft corner, Branch in tow. When the infant saw where they were going, he squealed in delight, nearly jumping out of Floyd’s arms in his excitement.  

“Easy, now!” The older troll set his little brother down with a chuckle, and immediately the baby reached for the crayons, starting to scribble before Floyd even had a chance to sit down.  

Floyd stood there, silently watching his brother as he created a messy drawing of their family. Or what he assumed was supposed to be their family. That blob in the corner could have been Spruce or a mutated caterpillar.  

He tried to keep his eye on his brother, but he couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the airhorn still sitting quietly on the table.  

He...had a suspicion about Branch. A hunch. A horrible, dirty, awful feeling about just why he would be able to sleep though such a grating noise. He tried to squash the terrible thought down, but the more he thought about it, the more it started to make sense.  

He shook his head, attempting to clear out the unwanted imagery. No, he was just being paranoid. There was no way his little brother was like...that. His brother was a good kid, even if he had his difficulties. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder...  

Slowly, so as not to alert his brother, Floyd returned to the table, hating himself all the way. He grabbed the airhorn, staring at it for a minute as he debated if he was really about to do this.  

In the end, curiosity won out, and the older troll cautiously made his was over to where his brother was sitting.  

Ever so carefully, Floyd lowered himself to the ground, until he was sitting just a foot behind the infant. With a shaking hand, he brought the horn up, directly behind the head of dark blue hair.  

He fought with himself for a moment- just a moment- before he gave in and pressed down. A sharp, piercing sound filled the room, and the older winced back, eyes squeezed shut as if that would block out the noise. It was over as quickly as it had started, and he peeled his eyes open to take in the damage he had most likely caused.  

His blood ran cold, however, when he opened his eyes and saw his brother sitting there, just like before. There was no indication that he had been frightened in the slightest, crayon still moving across the paper in messy shapes.  

He blinked rapidly, as if trying to disolve the image from his mind. Without thinking, he pressed it again, and just like before, an irritating screech filled the air. The blue troll didn’t so much as flinch. It was like he hadn’t even h-  

Floyd scrambled back, dropping the horn in the process, his feet unsteady as he pushed himself up. One minute he was in the living room, and the next, he was standing in the hall, struggling to wrap his mind around what he had seen.  

That’s how Clay and JD found him, bent in half, leaning against the wall for support.  

Clay was the first to speak. “Dude, what the fuck?! You can’t yell at me for using the horn then go around and use it yourself. Not. Cool.”  

Of course that would be the first the he was worried about. He was throwing that stupid horn away after all of this.  

JD just raised an eyebrow, clearly not up to speed with whatever new sibling beef the two had. “Okay, whatever you guys have going on can wait. Floyd looks like he’s about to have a breakdown or something.” He gestured to the younger brother, and Clay finally seemed to notice just how quickly the other was beathing.  

Stepping forward, John wrapped his hands around Floyd’s shoulders, helping him stand up from his hunched position. “Alright, jeez dude, just breathe. Okay?” Floyd nodded quickly, attempting to get his breathing back in control.  

When he finally looked like he wasn’t going to pass out at a moment's notice, JD spoke again. “Alright, what’s got you all worked up, huh? Please tell me you just saw a spider or something.”  

Floyd shook his head, struggling to speak past the lump in his throat. “B-branch...”  

Clay raised an eyebrow, looking confused. “Bitty B? What’s he got to do with this? And where exactly is he?”  

As if on cue, they all whipped their heads towards the living room as they heard their youngest member cry out. They nearly tripped over each other in their haste to reach the room, as the trolling screeched like he’d seen a Bergen.  

Pilling though the doorway, they all frantically looked around for their baby brother, worried he had somehow hurt himself in the few minutes they were gone. However, a quick sweep told them their brother was just across the room, apparently fine, but seemingly looking for something.  

They looked at eachother before Floyd called out to him. “Branch?”  

The younger troll didn’t even turn around, broken crayons and paper scattered about the room, as he continued to frantically search.  

“Branch, it’s okay. We’re here. We’re right here!” At this point, his older brother’s had joined in, trying to get the younger’s attention, but it was no use. He was running around like a chicken without a head, peeking into the kitchen and closet as he continued to cry out.  

Having enough, the pink haired troll swiftly crossed the room, bumping into furniture as he practically sprinted to Branch’s side. When he was close enough, he shot a hand out, brushing the baby’s shoulder with his fingertips.  

Instantly, Branch shot into the air, a startled yelp replacing his earlier wailing. He whipped his head around, tear filled eyes widening as he finally registered his brother behind him. Before Floyd could speak, he had the air knocked out of him, his arms now filled with a sobbing Branch.  

Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around the tiny troll, whispering assurances to try and get him to calm him down some. When that failed, he resorted to humming, hoping it would be enough to reassure his brother. He clumsily spouted the first tune he could think of, yet it seemed to work. The never-ending tears stopped, but the trolling still shook as he clung to his brother with one small hand. In the other, Floyd noticed, was a crumpled sheet of paper.  

He brought a hand up, rubbing the baby’s back in a calming motion, as he tried to wrestle the paper out of his brother’s grip. He gave it up easily enough, but when Floyd unfolded it, he couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp.  

What he saw shocked him. It was a crude drawing of...him? If the pink hair and earing were anything to go by, then it was definitely him. He couldn’t help but be confused, not understanding just what about this drawing in particular had made Branch so upset.  

Noticing his brother looking at his drawing, the infant wordlessly place his small hand on the paper before looking up at Floyd. He sat there, staring up at his older brother as if waiting for approval, just like he did whenever he showed them any of his art.  

Oh. His brother had simply wanted to show Floyd the picture he had drawn of him, but Floyd had apparently already left the room by the time he had finished. What didn’t make any sense was why he had still been searching so desperately when his brothers were literally calling out to him from across the room. Not unless-  

With a shaky gasp, Floyd pulled his brother back into him, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. He sat there, gently rocking the baby back and forth, while he struggled not to cry.  

He knew it. He knew it . He just didn’t want to admit it to himself. But now, here they were, standing in the face of undeniable proof. He felt his heart break in two for the little troll he’d tried so hard to help  

He lost it when he felt his brothers join them on the ground, two pairs of arms squeezing them as a sob finally bubbled out from where it had been lodged in his throat.     

It only made sense if Branch couldn’t hear them.  

Chapter Text

One trip to the clinic later, and all their worst fears were confirmed.  

Floyd had been crying nonstop. He couldn’t help it. Their baby brother had just received the worst news of his short life, and he couldn’t even understand what was happening.  

The usually sunny baby had been quiet ever since they’d found out, his brother’s moods rubbing off on him. He didn’t know why they were so sad, but he knew it had something to do with him.  

They were all taking it differently, with Floyd being the most outwardly affected. This didn’t mean the others weren’t just as upset, however.  

Clay had noticed how down their baby brother had seemed for the last few days, and tried to cheer him up as best he could. It was hard, as he honestly didn’t feel that much better himself, but the few times he got the baby to laugh were worth the trouble.  

Spruce...didn’t know how to handle the news. In troll society, being deaf was only a step above being eaten by a Bergen. And even then, it depended on who you asked. The diagnosis had created such an odd shift in their family dynamics, and Spruce didn’t know how he was supposed to react.  

Usually, it was up to JD or Floyd to deal with any difficult emotions that arose in the family, but this wasn’t exactly a problem that could be fixed. In lieu of knowing what to do, Spruce had been avoiding their younger brother like the plague. Anytime the younger tried to get his attention, he would turn tail and ignore him. He wasn’t trying to hurt the baby, but what could he do for the him, anyway.  

JD had taken the news fantastically well given the current situation they found themselves in. Actually, he almost seemed to be taking it too well. When they had gotten back from the doctor’s office, JD had been eerily quiet for the rest of the day. He didn’t say anything when they got home, instead, he simply walked to their room with a thoughtful look on his face.  

When he came down the next day, he acted like nothing had happened. He continued to treat Branch just like he always did, feeding him his breakfast with a grin on his face. He even took Branch with him when he went to go write some songs, even though they all knew now that there was no way for him to actually help.  

It would have been endearing if it hadn’t been so unnerving. Every time Floyd sniffled, or Spruce ran, or Clay laughed too loudly, JD would just ignore it, same forced smile plastered on his face. It was like he was doing everything in his power to convince himself it wasn’t an issue.  

It all reached a head, however, when the oldest gathered them to practice a week later. All the usual faces were present, but surprisingly, JD had also dragged Branch along. Oh, he had been there during previous sessions, but usually only when they had to babysit. Grandma was home right now, so all the brothers felt rightfully confused.  

Spruce was the first to gather the nerve to ask just what the oldest had planned.  

"Hey, uh, JD?”  

The troll in question turned around, baby in his arms. “Hmm?”  

“Not that I don't want him around,” liar , “but what exactly is Bitty B here for?”  

JD chuckled at that, looking at them like they were idiots. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s time that Branch joined the band!” He lifted the baby up, getting the infant to giggle.  

That...was unexpected. The brothers all looked at each other, equally confused as to what the eldest could mean by that.  

“You mean, like, as a groupie or something, right?” Floyd tentatively questioned.  

JD barked out a laugh. “No, man, he’s gonna be a real member on the band. He’ll be up on stage with us and everything!”  

The other siblings felt taken aback. Has JD finally cracked?  

“JD, no offence, but have you totally lost your marbles?” Clay questioned.  

“Yeah, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there’s no way Branch would be able to join us on stage. Cmon, JD, you know that.” Spruce said, crossing his arms.  

JD raised a brow. “Do I?”  

Spruce, frustrated, started to raise his voice. “Yes, you do! JD, on what planet could Branch possibly perform with us. He can’t dance, and he sure as hell can’t sing!”  

JD chuckled, shaking his head as if Spruce was a child. “Spruce, you’re overthinking this. There’s an obvious solution to both of those problems.”  

Clay raised a brow, confusion overtaking his face. “There is?”  

“Drum roll, please, gentlemen,” JD said as he walked over to the room’s white board. When no one did it, he just sighed, before ripping the sheet that was covering it off. “Tah dah!”  

His brother’s jaws dropped.  

“Lip syncing!?” Floyd nearly screeched.  

“JD, what the hell-”  

“Oh, that is some bulls-”  

“Please, tell me you're not that stupid-”  

The other members of brozone were talking over each other in their haste to make sure JD knew just how much they disapproved of the idea.  

JD scoffed at them, crossing his arms as he waited for them to tire themselves out. When everyone had finished, he leveled them with a flat look. “You guys done?”  

This was the wrong thing to say. A second wave of cursing and squabbling ensued, something JD was quickly growing tired off. Setting his baby brother down, JD brought a hand to mouth.  

A sharp whistle cut through the bickering filling the room, grabbing everyone’s (well almost everyone’s) attention. Now that he had their eye’s back on him, JD took the opportunity to begin explaining his idea.  

“Look, I know it sounds stupid-”  

“Moronic, really.”  

“Yes, thank you Spruce. I know it sounds bad, lip syncing is pretty much on par with murder, but if we manage to pull this off, then we could actually hit the perfect family harmony!”  

Clay put his head in his hands, voice muffled. “JD, bro, are you seriously still going on about that? Get it through your head, man. Its. Not. Happening.”  

This time, Floyd chimed in as well. “John Dory, you can’t really believe that this is an actual solution. Branch has had enough problems as it is! Not to mention how unrealistic you’re being. The issue isn’t his voice. How do you expect him to lip sync if he can’t hear the music to begin with!?”  

JD scoffed, “You really think I didn’t consider that? Branch doesn’t need to hear us to copy what the rest of us are saying.”  

Floyd paused. “What are you talking about?”  

“Look, watch this.” JD dropped down, crouching next to Branch who looked rather oblivious to the argument happening around him.  

“Branch, copy me.” The older troll smiled at his younger brother before slowly sounding out his own name, “Jay...Dee...”  

The younger troll beamed at the attention and hurried to copy his older brother. “Jah...Deh...”  

The other three brothers felt their jaws hit the floor, eyes widening at the scene. JD cheered, tackling their youngest in a shower of kisses, causing the trolling to burst into laughter. “Way to go, Bitty B!”  

“No fucking way...” Clay eloquently stated.  

Floyed sucked in a breath, a smile starting to tug at his mouth, near hysteria in his voice. “That was incredible! John, how did you teach him to do that?”  

The older rolled his eyes, waving a hand,”Psh, I didn’t get him to do anything. I just noticed that he was doing it on his own and decided to put it to good use.”  

“Really?” Floyd looked back down at his little brother; shock clear on his face. He didn’t expect that, but it was fantastic news. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit...jealous? He usually prided himself on being the most in tune with their baby bro, but to find out JD had noticed before him... Well, either way it was good news, and that’s what mattered.  

Spruce gave a little cheer, walking up to the oldest and youngest before pulling them up into a side-hug. “You know, JD, I don’t usually have much confidence in your ideas.”  

“Wow, okay, ouch.”  

“ BUT ! I think this is a plan we could actually pull off!”  

“Yeah, and if we can teach him to copy our singing, then maybe his dancing skills aren’t as hopeless as we thought, either!” Clay added, the enthusiasm going around the room now reaching him, as well.  

Branch watched his brothers from the warm confines of John’s arms, content to rest his head against his oldest brother’s strong shoulder as the others rapidly moved their mouths. He didn’t know why they were so excited, but he was starting to feel a little ball of something fill his tummy with warmth. Maybe they were going to play a game? He hoped they would finally let him join in this time.  

He would do anything to keep them from being so miserable again, and he just knows he can’t let them down.  

Chapter Text

It was finally time.  

The music was blaring, and the excited screams of their fans could probably be heard for miles.   

After months and months of ruthless practice, JD had finally deemed their newest member ready to join them on stage.  

It had been difficult, in the beginning, to get Branch to copy their moves with any real skill, but after months of repetition, he could finally do so perfectly. Well, maybe not perfectly, but good enough that any slips shouldn’t be noticeable on stage.  

Floyd would be the first to admit that he had been most resistant to JD’s insane plan. He’d been concerned that the younger troll simply wouldn’t be able to keep up with the levels of skill their oldest brother demanded.  

 It had nearly driven him crazy trying to monitor their baby brother’s every move during practice sessions. He was just so worried about the younger troll getting hurt, and he didn’t mean just physically.  

He didn’t think Branch really understood what was wrong with him, but he definitely knew he was different than the rest of his brothers. The young troll tried to hide it, but it was obvious how upset he got every time his brothers were able to do something he wasn’t.  

Sometimes, when he’d turn away from Branch to speak to another of their brothers, he’d turn back around, and the baby would look absolutely crestfallen. It was like he knew they had a different way of communicating with each other, and no matter how hard the trolling tried, he just wouldn’t be able to do the same.  

It broke Floyd’s heart to see him like that, but he knew there wasn’t any way for him to help. He couldn’t make Branch hear. He couldn’t fix him the way he wanted to.   

It killed him that his baby brother was unlucky enough to be born broken. That he would never get the chance to experience all the things normal trolls his age did. It wasn’t right, and it kept him up at night, thinking about what the younger troll would undoubtedly have to go through when other people eventually found out.   

They wouldn’t see Branch like his brothers did. All his determination, optimism, and loving personality would be outshined by what he lacked. It just wasn’t fair.  

Floyd would never say it out loud, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was unfair to him, as well.  

He loved his brother, don’t get him wrong, but this whole development had represented nothing but added stress for him. He’d spent so much time trying to make sure Branch could do even the most basic things that he had a near permanent headache, a testament to how he’d been neglecting his own needs.  

Every time he thought about the future, about how it would feel to have to care for someone for the rest of his life, he just wanted to crawl out of his skin. It made him feel trapped. Like he couldn’t breathe despite his lungs working perfectly well.  

He could never resent Branch for what he was, it wasn’t the trolling’s fault that he was like this. However, he could resent the circumstances they found themselves in.   

His brothers may be there to pick up some of his slack, ( heaven knows John had almost completely taken over for their grandma when it came to raising Branch ) but it was always Floyd’s responsibility to deal with the heavy emotions nobody else wanted to touch. He was the one who had to keep everyone smiling, even when all he wanted to do was lie in his bed and cry.   

Speaking of which, it looked like he had yet another situation to deal with then.   

On the other side of the room, near the curtains separating them from their adoring fans, was baby Branch. At first glance, one might assume that he was just fine, but Floyd wasn’t just anyone.  

He knew Branch better than he knew himself.  

In the harsh neon glow slipping through the slit of the curtain, he could see his brother shaking ever so slightly. His big blue eyes were even wider, and his fingers were nearly white from how hard he was clutching the cloth.  

It seemed that despite the months of practice, the baby still couldn’t help but be nervous about going on stage for the first time. Floyd couldn’t blame him. He swore he would barf, pass out, and pee his pants all at the same time when he first performed with his brothers. And he’d had it far easier compared to the trolling.  

He let out a breath, letting his shoulders relax and an easy smile find its way onto his face. It was up to him to make sure Branch was able to get through this performance, and if he needed some brotherly reassurance, then that’s what he’d get.  

Walking up to the trolling, he made sure to approach from Branch’s side, so the baby would be able to see him coming from his peripheral. One too many instances of nearly starting the trolling to tears, and the other brothers learned their lesson.  

 When he finally reached his brother, the trolling looked up at him, a thin smile doing nothing to mask the fear in his wide eyes. He glanced back out to the crowd, and Floyd took the opportunity to peek, as well.  

The venue was absolutely packed tonight. This had to be the most trolls he’d seen at one of their shows ever. It wasn’t hard to guess why.  

Not only was their newest member debuting tonight, but JD had apparently promised all the local tabloids that they would finally hit the “perfect family harmony”.  

Floyd’s brow furrowed as he thought about how grating JD had recently become about that stupid harmony.  

Talk about it had started right after Branch had hatched, but back then it was little more than an inside joke between the brothers. At some point, though, it stopped being a joke to JD and became something else entirely.  

An obsession.  

Since then, it seemed like they never got a break from his rambling. They couldn’t go a day without hearing JD talk about how they needed to work harder, or perform better, or sell their souls just so they could finally hit that perfect harmony.  

It had seemed bad back then, but now it had all spiraled past obsession. His goal had completely consumed his brother’s every waking thought. After branch’s diagnosis, he had taken a steep head dive into insanity.  

Everything he did now, everything they all did, was now dedicated to being perfect. They trained for hours each day, trying to iron out all the imperfections from their routine and images. If one of them even so much hinted at complaining, then JD would get pissy, insisting that they had to be better.  

Honestly, Floyd didn’t get what the big deal was. Sure, if they could pull it off, it would cement them in history as boy band legends, but that was still a big if .  

It seemed even less likely now with Branch’s condition. He may be able to act like he’s singing, but that doesn’t mean he’ll actually be able to harmonize with them.  

He starting to think that this whole lip-syncing plan was out of sheer desperation. To JD, the only thing worse than Branch being deaf, was Branch being the sole reason they would never hit that harmony. If tonight doesn’t go perfectly, he doesn’t even want to think about how bad things are going to get...  

Shaking his head, he tried to pull himself out of the dark hole his thought had driven him down. He didn’t need to be thinking like that right now. Branch needed him.  

He crouched down near the infant, reaching out his hand and turning his face until they were looking at each other once again.  

“It’ll be okay, Branch. Trust me.” He tried to speak slowly, clearly enunciating his words so the baby would be able to understand what he was saying. Once he’d started speaking, the infant's eyes shifted from his eyes to his mouth. A look of understanding flooded his face, and when he looked back to Floyd, he looked just a tiny bit better.  

He couldn’t say what he really wanted to tell his brother, the trolling just wasn’t that good at reading their lips yet, but there were other ways he could show him that he wasn’t alone. Taking the infant into his arms, he pressed him firmly against his chest and began humming. Instantly, the younger troll began to relax in his arms, the gentle vibrations taking their intended effect.  

This was the best way he’d found to comfort his brother, and if he was being honest, it wasn’t as one-sided as he’d like the others to believe. Every time he held him like this, it reminded him of better times, back when Branch was just Branch, and the worst thing he had to deal with was Clay eating the last cupcake.  

He held onto his brother for a moment more, just basking in the comfort he felt, before he deemed it time to let go, Slowly, he unraveled his arms from around his brother, letting the smaller troll’s feet touch the ground, once more.  

His brother looked a lot better, the small smile cresting his lips now genuine rather than forced. He squeezed his tiny hands in his larger ones, giving him some final remnants of reassurance. He knew his brother could do this, the baby just needed to realize that, too.  

The nice moment was ruined when JD came over, nagging them about being ready for the show. He loved his brother, but sometimes he was more annoying than a head full of knots.  

Floyd gave into his brother’s demands, his request to “just breathe” having been ignored. It was just as well, he supposed. The quicker they got this thing over with, the sooner they could all go home and (hopefully) relax.  

They all got into their positions, and Floyd gave his younger brother a final thumbs up before the curtains parted, and the show started.  

----------  

Minutes later, it was over before it could even begin.