Chapter Six

Deep inside Branch's survival bunker, at the lowest level, the grey troll was sitting at his work bench under a phosphorescent crystal light. He sat on a swiveling stool, measuring long boards of fresh cut wood on the table and marking numbers against the grain lines. Branch nailed the pieces together and started to sand the surface smooth with slow, specific hands. He lifted the end of the large construction and inspected it, pointed ears twitching when a soft knocking sound echoed through the tunnels from outside. He let out a heavy, pained sigh and set the item back down. His heart hammered inside his chest and he clenched the edge of his table, trying to will himself to answer the knock on his door. Branch didn't want to feel trapped in his own home, but that's what was happening. Poppy was asking so much out of him. He thought that she would understand when he resisted letting Creek stay in his bunker but his feelings didn't get through to her. This was going to turn out worse than what happened out at the waterfall if he didn't take some counter measures. He hoped that if he provided enough to Creek that they wouldn't have to see each other until it was time for him to leave.

Branch pulled himself away from the table and left his work area, walking through the hall to the main room slowly, passing his stock of mixed supplies that adorned endless rows of shelving. He looked at the elevator and up the drafty, dark shaft where it traveled, trying to swallow the nausea brought by his anxiety. The knock sounded again from above, a little louder this time. Branch knew exactly who it was waiting for him, of course, and that made it more frightening.

"Just be normal," he said to himself, rubbing his face roughly. "It's only for a couple of weeks. It won't be that bad. It'll be fine. It'll be easy," Branch chanted to himself, climbing onto the elevator lift and throwing the lever. It throttled and started to climb, the platform rising up the shaft for a good minute before settling into place in the upper room. The small enclosure was just a misleading area for whatever wanted to break into his bunker. It was covered in dust and it was dark. The floor around the elevator was speckled with home-made traps for the unlucky attacker. At the low ceiling was his entrance hatch, light glimmering through the cracks of the wood around the edges. Branch slid open the peep-hole and glanced outside, "Who is it?" he asked.

"It's me, obviously" Creek said dully, leaning over the door from outside so that Branch could see him through the tiny hole. "You told me to come here but you still ask who it is?"

Branch rolled his eyes and started to unlock the hatch. "It's just precautionary," he replied gruffly. He flipped open the panel and Creek grimaced, looking into the dark hole that Branch stood in. Taking a breath in, he jumped through the hatch and landed with a soft thud, the dirt pillowing up around his feet.

Creek quirked an eyebrow, vision adjusting to the dim light as he looked around the desolate room. "You actually live in this disgusting hole?"

Branch did a haughty laugh then rolled his eyes, shutting the door and making sure it was secure. "Up here? That's a good one. Of course not." He pulled the lever on the elevator and it lurched, taking the two trolls downward. Creek stumbled then steadied his feet, confused on what was happening at first. As they traveled down, he became totally engrossed by the sight before him. They passed entire rooms and storage units carved into the ground, illuminated by strong flicking light from below. There were dozens of shelves packed tight with numerous items, some of them totally unknown to the guru. He knew himself to be knowledgeable of different things, but Branch was giving him a run for his money and he became suddenly uneasy with that prospect. How much was this troll hiding under the tough hide? They finally settled at the main room and Creek stepped off the platform, looking around him with his mouth slightly agape.

Branch strode past him and gestured to his living area, "Welcome to my home," he said, his voice strained while he tried to hide his displeasure of letting a new troll in his bunker that wasn't Poppy. "I'll show you where your room is and other areas that you're allowed to be in. Otherwise, I'd like for you to not touch anything and keep to yourself until your pod is finished."

"I have a room? I was actually suspecting that you would put me out on the floor or somewhere equally depressing," Creek mused.

Branch was devoid of humor and looked at him blankly. "We can arrange that if you want to sleep on the floor instead," he quipped.

"Ah, no… My room is fine," Creek said, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't quite feel like testing the capabilities of the troll while he was in his domain. The most surprising thing was that Branch's bunker was unlike anything the purple troll thought it to be. He imagined something dark, drab, or even dirty because they were legitimately standing inside a giant cave in the ground, but Branch had turned the place into something warm and cozy.

Branch grunted slightly and waved for the purple troll to follow, leading him down the left corridor to an oak wood door. The wood was sealed with a pleasant, brown stain and the handle was made from chiseled stone. The more hand-made things that Creek saw, the more his mind reeled that Branch was the one that made them all. He knew that the dark troll lived alone and had carved out this bunker after the tragic events with his grandmother's passing, but the extent of labor and craftsmanship that Branch actually retained was unthinkable. Creek was trying a difficult battle to not be impressed.

"This here... is your place," Branch breathed, his hand fidgeting on the door handle when Creek quietly stepped a little too close to his turned back. Creek's natural scent reached his nose and the hair on his neck and arms stood on end. He flung the door open and quickly moved inside, allowing Creek to follow him in. There was a plain, large bed with the same oak wood border and a white bedspread with two pillows that looked to be stuffed with feathers. At the side was a clothing chest and a nightstand with a shimmering crystal lamp atop it. There were also empty racks mounted on the walls and a filled bookcase with a comfortable lounge chair in front of it.

"Wow. This is very nice," Creek said softly, looking at all the furniture while more realization slammed into him that Branch had probably made this entire room with his bare hands.

"It's all I could put together on short notice," Branch said quickly, his cheeks feeling a sudden rush of heat. "The washroom is the door across from yours, and the kitchen is further down this same hall. You know where the exit is, so that should be all you need. Take your time settling in." Branch avoided Creek's eyes, turning away abruptly and leaving Creek in the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

Creek watched the door for a moment, lost in thought, then went to the nightstand and touched the surface of it gently. He closed his tired eyes, feeling the positive energy pulsing from the grain into his fingertips. The whole room was giving him a peaceful vibe and he felt overwhelmingly blessed by Mother Destiny, once again. He felt his inner aura being tugged, telling him to try and get closer to Branch. Creek wasn't sure what he actually wanted from the grey troll. Did he want his friendship again? Did he want closure? He just knew that he wanted more than what was there. Creek's heart started to beat faster and he bit his lower lip, feeling slightly excited. Whatever 'more' that he craved was possible while he stayed in this room. He was resistant, and possibly even scared, when Poppy dragged him over to the grey troll earlier today, but now he was grateful for her stubborn act. Creek shifted over to the bed and touched that as well. The bedding was incredibly soft but the right amount of firm. Suddenly, exhaustion reared its head and took the purple troll in its unyielding jaws. Pulling an all-nighter was not something he normally did and it felt like he were made of heavy sand. He leaned in, face forward, and fell onto the bedspread with a small bounce on impact. It felt like heaven and he was so tired… Without moving from his collapsed position, sleep overcame the troll in a matter of minutes.

Branch wandered towards his kitchen after much pacing between the living room and his work room. He needed to do something to get rid of his anxiety but his heart wasn't in the crafting mood anymore. He rubbed his hands over his face multiple times and then went into the kitchen, pulling out a chair from his dining table. He sat in it and then abruptly planted his face into the table, arms covering over his coal black hair. His heart was screaming inside and he couldn't make it stop. He could smell Creek clearly now. The purple troll's sweet scent was in his home, stuck in his nose, concentrated with no outside breeze to sweep it away. The guru smelled like fresh herbs and candied mint and it made Branch's heart beat. This kind of thing didn't make any sense to him. Despite the smell being similar to everyday things he loved, he absolutely hated that it was coming from the one he didn't want to be around.

After many moments, Branch lifted his head with a slow exhale and straightened the mess he made of his hair. Dusk was approaching and dinner would probably make him feel better. He thought to himself about what would taste good, then thought about what Creek would eat. He told himself he didn't want to make unnecessary contact but he knew that Creek had nothing, including essentials like clothing and food. That's the whole reason why he was staying here. Poppy would never forgive him if he didn't take care of Creek like he agreed. Neither of them have had a proper meal since coming back home to the village. Root vegetables should be fine then, Branch thought. Potatoes were something that everyone liked.

Scuffling around the kitchen always took Branch's mind off ill thoughts. He pulled out his cookware and started cutting leafy herbs into a pan, dicing bits of red potato and onion with them. After a lot of back and forth, cooking dinner just for sustenance turned into cooking dinner for Creek for the first time. He was nervous and wanted a good taste and presentation. "If he doesn't like it, then it's not my problem," Branch muttered, fighting with his thoughts while he threw in fresh sliced tomatoes to his creation. On the other hand, he really hoped that Creek liked it. After a few hours of slow prep and cooking, Branch ended up with a vegetarian red potato provençal and the juicy tomato smell had him smiling. He didn't cook every day but he wasn't bad at it. He really outdid himself tonight and there wasn't a soul in troll village that wouldn't devour this.

After placing the table for two, Branch left the kitchen to Creek's bedroom and stopped outside it. He stared at the door, that unwillingly feeling swelling up inside again. He couldn't hear any movement inside.

"Creek?" Branch knocked on the door lightly. "I made some food," he offered, his cheeks heating up with embarassment. The words felt weird to him. He's never had anyone stay in his home before, never cooked for anyone but himself, and now he was knocking on a door he installed himself. This definitely was weird. Branch waited for a reply but none came. Getting impatient, Branch knocked again. Still, nothing. "I'm coming in," Branch warned. He opened the door with his jaw tight and the first thing he spotted was Creek planted face down, horizontal across the bed. His usual, perfectly combed teal hair was mussed on one side and his body looked dead to the world.

Branch rushed over to the purple troll and touched his bare back, shaking him gently while he worried something might be wrong with him. "Hey, hey! You alright?"

Creek's eyes cracked open slowly, his vision glazed over. "Mm..." he hummed, unmoved from his position.

Branch leaned in and pulled Creek's shoulder back so that he could look better at his face. "It's barely been two hours and you look like you're about to die. Are you sick?"

"Br.. Branch," Creek breathed, still completely encompassed by sleep. The purple troll lifted a hand and touched his thumb to Branch's cheek, caressing it. Branch instinctively slapped Creek's hand away and he moved backwards in shock, the skin on his cheek electrified from the small touch. Creek startled from the violent assault and sat up quickly, blinking and looking at Branch's mortified face.

"I fell asleep," he said, his voice fogged, raspy and almost questioning.

"That much is obvious now," Branch said bitterly.

"What are you –"

"Dinner is ready if you want to eat," he cut him off, not wanting to talk about anything further.

"Dinner?" Creek swayed slightly, then supported himself with his palm on the bed. He felt even more exhausted than before, having been ripped mercilessly from such a deep level of comfort. "Alright. I will be there... in a moment."

Branch watched his vulnerable movement silently then walked back to the door, uneasy thoughts filling his mind that were ever conflicting. "Sure," he said, leaving the room with a stiffened walk. He didn't know what else to say, honestly. He knew that he wasn't going to venture into that room again while Creek was in it, that was certain. He felt pain in his heart again. Branch rubbed his hand over his chest, trying to ease the throb away. "It'll be fine," he mumbled to himself again. "It won't be that bad."

Branch waited for Creek at the dining table and the purple troll managed to make it there on his own, pulling out the second chair and settling into it without really acknowledging Branch. He still looked like he was in a dream world while Branch set a plate full of food in front of him. The air was stifling and thick for the grey troll. The smell of sweet mint wafted through his senses. He flinched from it unnecessarily and he couldn't remember actually shoveling any food into his mouth. He couldn't taste anything that he was eating, but he didn't feel disappointed as his eyes wandered back to the troll sitting across at the table. Creek ate quietly, half lidded eyes cast downward. Branch was grateful to not have to put up with idle dinner conversation because he was never good at it. Creek talked a lot usually and this was a nice change of pace. The back of his mind worried still about Creek's well being since this wasn't normal behavior. After they cleared out the food and Branch tossed the dishes into a sink full of fresh water, Creek got to his feet slowly and thanked him for the meal.

"I suppose I'll take care of the next one," he said softly. "I'm turning in first." Creek turned out of the kitchen and went back to his room without receiving a reply.

Creek crawled into the white covers of his borrowed bed and reality was lost again. He drifted deep into an unknown world, blurry dreams with no plot coming and going in rapid succession until he settled on a single vision. The area was black with nothing inside it except himself and another. There was a soft outline of a troll surrounded by a thick dark cloud that coiled and shifted around his form. The troll glowed with a gentle pulse inside, but he was almost as dark as the world around him. He had no face or distinct features, but Creek wasn't scared. The guru felt a loss of breath, the two watching each other intently before the clouded glow troll stepped forward, reaching out with his hand. Creek mimicked the movement and their fingers intertwined. Heat crept up his arm from their palms and the ultimate feeling of peace enveloped him. The mystery troll was swept by a gentle breeze, the dark cloud blown away like it was a mere irritation leaving behind the most radiating, positive aura that Creek had ever witnessed in his life. As quickly as the glow troll came to him, it left abruptly. The aura was ripped from his hand and his troll was taken away, leaving Creek feeling empty and crippled. Darkness swallowed him then, his senses muddled in distress.

Just before he felt he couldn't feel any lower, Creek's eyes opened and he awakened slowly from his dream. His mind clung desperately to the weird scenario that just played behind his eyes, not wanting to forget any of the details. It was so different, unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It had to mean something more. Creek rolled onto his side and spotted a small clock sitting on the nightstand. The hands read just past six in the morning. He wondered if Branch was awake this early. Feeling refreshed, Creek slipped out of the bed and stretched his back and arms with a low hum. He had to visit the twins, Satin and Chenille, today to get some clothes, considering the only thing he owned now was the solo pair of tan pants he was weathering through the seams. That could come later, he wanted to do something for Branch before the day's dramatics started with the little grey troll.