Chapter Text
Branch knocked three times on a scuffed door, covered in its entirety by patches, posters, and stickers. It said things like “GET OUT” and had pictures of skulls and advertised tours that had been over for decades. One of those tour posters seemed to be cut straight from the back of an old shirt. Huh.
“What?” Snapped a voice from inside the room. Branch was relieved that he had even been heard, considering the loud guitar and drum music playing within. He could feel the bass in his chest as it vibrated the walls and floor.
“It’s Branch! You said we could meet today!” He yelled in, hoping his voice carried. He didn’t like yelling. Hopefully this would be short. But, considering that it had been several seconds without a response, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get what he wanted.
Suddenly, the music paused. He heard footsteps trudging over. Then they stopped.
Then the door flew open.
“AAAAAAAAA!” Screamed Queen Barb, holding a guitar like a baseball bat.
“AAAAAAAAAAA!” Screamed Branch, mostly just surprised. He shielded himself with the only thing he had on his person, a carefully wrapped bowl of salad. Luckily for him and the salad, no attack came, just some smarmy laughing from Barb.
“Haha! Gotcha, smokestack. What’s that?” She jabbed a finger at the salad.
Smokestack was her nickname for Branch, since he was grayish and had nearly black hair that Barb said reminded her of a chimney. Popsqueak and smokestack. Branch did not care for it. He also did not care for being screamed at and threatened with a guitar! So much for avoiding a headache.
“It’s a salad,” he said, dryly.
“What, they don’t let you eat leaves in Pop Village? Had to sneak out to my place?” Barb spun the guitar, and Branch couldn’t help but feel like she was swinging it a little too close to him on purpose.
“It was for you.”
Barb froze, expression shifting. She stopped swinging the guitar.
“Oh.”
He pushed it towards her and she took it gingerly, like it may explode on her. Most of Poppy’s gifts exploded, so it wasn’t that unfounded of a worry.
“I figured since you had been out traveling with Poppy, you’d been eating mostly sugar. Plus, the volcanoes don’t really provide the best environment for farming.” He was trying not to sound annoyed. He was failing. “So yeah. Salad.”
He gestured into the room and she stepped to the side, letting him in. That…wasn’t what she had been expecting. She shook the salad container, staring at the tomatoes and leaves and avocados. Huh. There was even a little plastic fork tapped to the side of the bowl. She peeled off the plastic wrap Branch had put on it and tossed it to the side. (She’d pick it up later. Probably.)
“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to work you up that bad,” she said, genuinely attempting to apologize but kind of sounding like a jerk about it. “I forgot you were like, uptight and stuff.” She placed the salad on an end table and vaulted up onto the back of her couch, which was ripped and stained and had several t-shirts laying around that she hadn’t gotten to putting away. Branch moved a shirt and sat down on the couch like a normal person.
“It’s fine,” he said.
He stared at her.
She stared at him.
She slowly picked up the salad, removing the fork. With a drawn out crunch, she grabbed a forkful and ate it. Ew. Leaves. She tried to mask the fact that his salad gift sucked, but he smirked at her and reached into his pocket.
“I also got you some dressing.”
“Asshole!” She said, leaning over to shove him in as he cackled at her. She ripped the dressing packets out of his hand and immediately drenched her salad. “Making me eat dry leaves!”
“I didn’t make you!” He said. He was shoved again. “You deserve it! You deserve only leaves! You’re lucky I put avocados in there!”
Barb wasn’t Branch’s favorite. After she, you know, shot him with a rock zombie-fying laser and tried to do the same to everyone else, especially Poppy, he wasn’t really that into the idea of being chummy with her. Oh, and she sent bounty hunters after them! Branch still couldn’t listen to jazz without shivering with discomfort.
But Poppy had taken to Barb almost instantly, despite everything, and Barb seemed genuine in her desire to make amends. The girls liked to hang out and Branch was there a lot of the time. Both of them bonded over playful annoyance at Poppy’s antics, and Branch eventually found out that Barb hadn’t been too excited about getting close to Branch at first, either. He was kind of collateral damage. Kind of. And he was the first one Barb used the power chord on. She wasn’t…super hyped about trying to face that guilt head on.
He had spent more time with her than any other leader, though. (Aside from Poppy, of course.) He was comfortable enough around her at this point. Rock music still gave him headaches after a while, which was why he was hoping this would be a quick trip. Thankfully she hadn’t turned the speakers back on yet.
Barb munched on her dressing, garnished with a hint of salad.
“How did the conferences go?” Branch asked. Her and Poppy had been out together, smoothing things down in other nations. They were doing their best to unite the trolls that hadn’t been at the rock-pocalypse concert and to ease the concerns of those who were. Branch wasn’t invited–and that was fine! He was cool with it! It was chill! Poppy gave him some management stuff to do in the village and urged him to talk to the leaders, so he was totally busy. In fact, he didn’t even want to go! He was glad ! It sounded boring . And not the fun kind of boring like whittling or drafting up all-encompassing peace treaty documents.
...
Okay he had really wanted to go–but that’s not the point!
“It was pretty whatever. I didn’t really do much. Poppy did all the talking.” Barb shrugged. “Like, what am I gonna say? Sorry I tried to destroy your livelihood~! Hugs and kisses~! Let’s all just try again~!” She took on a high-pitched, overly flowery tone. “That’s not gonna work for me.”
“So Poppy said all that stuff instead?”
“Yeah pretty much.” Barb paused to go spearfishing in her bowl for a moment. “I did apologize though. I tried to explain what I was thinking. Kinda talked about dad. I dunno, it was lame.”
Branch could see the embarrassment hot on Barb’s face as she avoided eye contact. He understood. Maybe not to this degree, but…he understood. He couldn’t imagine having to be emotionally vulnerable in front of the whole nation. He just had to be emotionally vulnerable to one nation. And it sucked. It was worth it, though. He wanted Barb to realize it was worth it, but didn't know what to say.
Ding~!
Barb threw her head back and groaned as Branch closed the bracelet, which had been trying to do the talking for him.
“Seriously? Did you do that on purpose? Is 'Hug Time' connected directly to the amount of pity you feel?”
“No, trust me. I’ve checked.” Branch had had too many convenient Hug Times go off in the past. He did thorough research on the topic. “It's every hour. You just get unlucky.” There was a pause. “Did…you hug Poppy?”
“Uh, yeah, I hugged Poppy.” Barb made it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The mandated time thing is weird, though. Like you’re in a hug cult.”
“Would you believe me if I told you these were made to actually make us hug less ?”
“What?”
“Everyone was always hugging, so nothing got anything done. This sets aside special time for hugging, so people can do other things in the meantime.”
“Gross. You guys are so weird,” Barb said with a mix of repulsion and genuine fondness. Branch knew the slippery slope well enough. Soon, she’d have her very own hug time bracelet and would be on democratic meetings to cuddle with babies. And would enjoy it. Or something like that. “Like, that just makes the whole thing awkward. Hug when you feel the hug, y’know? Otherwise you’re just stressing about the hug beforehand. Like, 'oh no, who’s around me, what have I been doing, am I holding anything dangerous, do I go over the shoulders or around the waist'–it would be a whole thing!” Barb flopped her arm out and let it fall back down for emphasis.
“Believe me, I understand. I understand better than anyone.”
“Like, affection shouldn’t be regulated . That’s weird.” She sat in silence for a moment, trying to leave it at that, but she blurted out one last, “what if you don’t even like hugs?!”
Branch understood. He understood better than anyone.
They chatted for a bit more about the conference, about Poppy. She had a couple more things to wrap up and had cheerfully sent Barb home early since Barb had admitted to being stressed out about the whole thing. She said that she thought that Poppy’s “you did such an amazing and super job I’m so proud of you everyone loves you” was a bit much, but she was glad to get a break. Then, they talked about their plans for the next few days. Branch had been invited to a welcome back party for Poppy, which he was going to attend the latter half off. Plus he had a few more meetings with some of the funk troll engineers about other ways their technology could help trolls get around. Barb talked about a few gigs she had set up, and how it was her dad’s birthday soon. Branch silently wondered if the One Nation Under Rock was originally her present for him.
“Oh, and me and Riff are gonna beat each other up tomorrow, so I’m looking forward to that.”
Branch raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Beat each other up? I thought you were friends? Or at least on a boss/employee basis?”
“Oh, no, yeah, we’re friends! We’re tight! That’s why I’m beating him up!” She extracted the last of the salad dressing from the bowl with her finger and licked it off. “Guess the pops don’t really do that. It’s a friend thing. Like play fighting. Like rats!”
“Oh, like you shoving me and threatening me with a guitar,” Branch said with a smirk. Barb laughed. “And me feeding you unseasoned leaves.”
“Smokestack, that wasn’t play fighting.” She looked over at him with a glint in her eye, like a cat right before it pounces towards a hanging string on a sweater. “That was a declaration of war. Hyah!”
Branch had been expecting the tackle and ducked as Barb launched herself towards him. He rolled off the couch as she landed on the armrest, immediately jumping for him again. She pinned him to the ground, kneeling on his chest and grabbing his wrists.
“That all you got? Going down just like that?” She teased. Branch grinned. Never.
He twisted one of his arms, shaking her grip loose and pushing her off his torso. She didn’t let go of his other arm, so he was pulled up with her. Perfect. He planted his feet in a crouch and prepared to strike, but she suddenly pounced over him like a game of leapfrog, grabbing him by the waist and lifting him into the air. He thrashed like a freshly caught fish, and she threw him back into the water. Which is to say, the couch. The force of his body knocked it over and he scrambled to recover, standing at the ready.
The couch was in between them now. It was your typical stand-off. Her eyes were locked on him as they slowly inched around, waiting for the other to make a move. Branch looked up and down at his surroundings. He was on enemy turf; he needed any advantage he could get.
He stopped. She stopped. They stood, knees bent, arms out, ready . Then POP! Branch ducked down, hitting the floor and obscuring himself from Barb’s view. She gasped and vaulted the tipped over couch, only to find that he had used that time to scamper off.
Something soft hit her on the shoulder and she whipped around. No Branch. He was hiding . What a nerd. She looked down to see what had been thrown and saw a balled up t-shirt unraveling itself into a pile on the floor.
“Smokestack, you can’t hide forever~!” She taunted, moving so that her back was against the wall. That way, she only had three sides to worry about, front, left, and right. “This is my room.”
She noticed a tuft of navy blue fur peeking out from behind a vanity. Aha. Gotcha. She slowly prowled closer, trying to make it seem like she still wasn’t quite sure where he was hiding. Step. Step. Step. Then break for the vanity! She leapt into the air and behind the vanity, knocking it over to retrieve her fluffy foe, but when she saw what was in her grasp…
“Debbie?”
The bat was chewing on some hair, her eyes boggling in either direction. She sniffed the air twice, and then suddenly, her eyes focused on something above her. Barb froze.
“Hi-yah!”
Branch, who had been patiently waiting on the ceiling, dropped down onto Barb. She let go of Debbie, who flew away without any interest in the situation, as the two trolls wrestled on the ground.
Once both Barb and Branch were tired out and equally convinced that they had won, they wrapped up their conversation about the conference and future plans, and Branch went on his way. Barb had punched him in the shoulder as he left.
“See ya, smokestack. Don’t be a stranger.”
“See ya, Barb,” he had said, giving her a light punch back.
He would look down at his vest, later, finding a small tear near the shoulder. It sent a bad feeling through his chest, like he had let go of something important. Like he had gotten carried away. Like he had failed at something. He sewed up the hole, trying to think of what Poppy would say to him tomorrow, what he would say to her. She would be so excited, so happy, so proud of him. There would be so much he could teach her, so much he could do for her. He cut the thread, smoothed down the fabric leaves, and decided that it was okay.
...This was okay.