Alright, here it is, as promised! Our little check-in with our favorite goat boi! For context, this takes place about three days after the group met with Dickory down in the Underground, so... Yeah! Got a bit longer than I wanted, and it ain't exactly perfect, but oh well, it was a nice change of pace, and I enjoyed doing it! Have fun, and I'll see ya next week. ;)
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"Please, don't leave, not like this..."
"I'm s-"
John Dory turned away, his silhouette starting to fade into the darkness. But Hickory's hand still stretched towards him, panicked and desperate. If he could just REACH him, catch and cling onto something, anything, maybe he wouldn't go, maybe he wouldn't disappear, maybe he’d…
Stay… Please, stay…
But as his hand met with John Dory's shoulder, it passed right through him, as if he were reaching for a ghost.
No... He thought, becoming even more panicked, trying to reach out once more, this time to wrap him in his arms, and hold him close. But again, his reaching hands met with nothing, Hickory just falling to his knees as John Dory's grey figure faded even more.
No, wait... Hickory thought, frantic, his hand uselessly stretching out after the disappearing silhouette. No no no, please, don't do this, don't leave, don't disappear...
...I never should have let him go.
Hickory awoke with a start, sucking in a sharp breath. And above him, his hand was stretched out towards the sky, as if reaching for some unattainable goal. It was almost poetic, in a way. But he never was much good at poems.
However, he didn't give himself time to linger on the empty feeling, instead immediately rolling over to his side, grabbing his hunting knife from his hair. It was still the middle of the night, and if he was awake now, it was probably for good reason. Poetic, heartbreaking dreams aside, he hadn't meant to fall asleep, he was supposed to be keeping one ear up for possible threats creeping about in the night. If he was awoken from sound(ish) slumber, his unconscious self had likely picked up on something his conscious self hadn't caught on to yet. He scanned the darkened horizon of the Funk Desert, grip shifting on the soft leather of his knife, before his eyes finally landed on his target.
There... A dark figure, moving in the distance.
His grip tightened, hastily climbing to his feet, stifling a sharp breath as his hind leg protested the quick movement, not letting his eyes leave the figure. He readied himself to call out to whoever or whatever this thing was, tell it to scram. After all, there was no cover out here, it wasn't like he could hide. And given the state of his hind leg, he likely wouldn't be able to outrun it.
Before he could, however, a soft birdcall echoed out across the desert, the tension immediately falling from Hickory's shoulders. He knew that call well, the one that meant they were safe, even when separated...
Dickory.
As the figure drew closer, Hickory could make his brother out more clearly. And the surly older troll didn't waste a single second.
"How many times have I told you to get yourself a ranged weapon? What were you thinking you were going to do with that little knife of yours, eh? Throw it at me?"
"Well howdy to you too." Hickory muttered, before shaking his head. "What're you doin' here? I thought you were gon' scope out the Rock Kingdom, an' we'd meet down there!"
"Halt den Mund." Dickory snapped, ignoring him, just looking at his legs. "What did you do this time? Tell me!"
"Wha-" Hickory squawked, before realization struck him, unconsciously hiding his injured leg behind the others. "Did you read my letter? You can't do that-"
Dickory gave a sharp "Pst!", cutting him off, ducking and weaving to get a look. "I don't want to hear it! You're the idiot who went and got himself hurt, now let me see!"
"It's nothin', just a sprain!" Hickory exclaimed, exasperated.
"I will say if it's a sprain or not!" Dickory snapped, stubbornly refusing to back down. "Zieg mir!"
"Fine!" Hickory relented, just falling back down with a huff. He didn't want to argue, he was much too tired... "It's jus' a sprain. Got it from clipping one of Thorn's cronies in the chin."
Dickory's expression turned dark, looking his leg up and down, letting out a snort. "I told you to just let me kill them. Simple, quick fix."
That familiar, smoldering anger churned in his gut, but Hickory just let out a sigh. "Yeah, well, killin' folk ain't my go to solution for solvin' a problem."
"Mm, pity." Dickory frowned, reaching out to grab the shoddy wrap around his leg. "Was ist das? You call this a pressure wrap? There's no pressure!"
"It loosened during the day!" Hickory argued, massaging his forehead. "I was gon’ fix it first thang in the mornin'-"
"Fat load of help that does you now." Dickory sniffed, immediately starting to undo the wrap. "Dummkopf..."
"Dickory, what are ya doin' here?" Hickory repeated, begrudgingly allowing Dickory to fix his wrap.
"Making sure you don't do anything else stupid." Dickory grumbled, Hickory rolling his eyes.
"You were s'posed to be searchin’ fer clues on Dor- Ehem, John Dory." He said harshly, a small flicker of hope sparking to life in his chest. "Did ya find somethin'?"
Dickory's ears pinned back slightly, but he just reached into his hair, retrieving a small card. From the speckling of glitter and stickers, Hickory assumed it was Queen Poppy's doing. "That annoyingly optimistic Pop Queen asked me to give this to you. Apparently everyone thinks I'm their errand boy now, so thanks a lot for that."
"Poppy..." Hickory whispered, taking the card, before looking back at his brother. "Wait, you saw Queen Poppy? In Rock Territory."
"The Underground, actually. Her and ihr kleiner Freund. Cheeky kleiner Scheißer." Dickory replied, Hickory's ears immediately pinning back as a mixture of confusion and concern filled his chest.
"Branch? Why on troll's green earth would they head down there?"
"I don't know." Dickory said with a shrug. "Said they were looking for their brother, I guess."
"Who, John?" Hickory asked, confused, opening up the letter.
"No, the other one."
Hickory stiffened, looking back at Dickory in shock. "Other one...?".
He’d gotten a bit more information on John Dory’s… Family, after he was taken. Branch had questioned him on what exactly they’d argued about before he left, and Hickory replied truthfully, saying that he mentioned their family, asking the younger troll about it. Branch’s face had immediately gone cold, looking away.
“We… Had three brothers.” He’d replied tightly.
Had… Hickory had thought, pressing a bit further. “And?”
“Now we don’t.”
…Oh.
It was pretty obvious to him that their brothers were now gone, and he figured that was about all the information he was going to get on that subject. But, now… Hickory just shook his head, quickly focusing back on the letter.
It didn't take long for him to read through Poppy's bubbly handwriting. But each word he did reach seemed to bring with it more weight. Kidnapped, Mt. Rageous, Velvet and Veneer, Diamond Prison, finding his brothers, Perfect Family Harmony…
Jesus, Dory…
“That ought to do it.” Dickory said, seemingly satisfied with his wrap job, having fashioned a splint out of a wooden stake as well. The older troll climbed back up to his feet, dusting the fine sand off his furry legs. “Honestly, H, I thought I taught you better-”
“I gotta go.”
Dickory gave him a sharp look. “Was?”
He hastily climbed to his feet, kicking sand over the remaining coals of his fire, ignoring the shooting pain up his leg every time he moved. “They’re headin’ to this Mt. Rageous place, we gotta meet ‘em there-”
“Wait, just hold on a minute.” Dickory interrupted, moving in front of him. “Do you even know where this place is?”
“Well, no, but I-”
“What, just plan to wander around aimlessly until you stumble onto it?” Dickory scoffed. “Ja, that’ll work.”
Hickory’s face flushed with embarrassment, becoming insistent. “They need my help-”
“Fat load of help you’ll be with that leg, idioten, you can barely put weight on it-”
“He needs me! Can’t you jus’-” Hickory couldn’t finish his sentence, choking as a wave of devastation washed over him. And there must have been something in his voice, Dickory’s face losing its sharpness. Hickory just turned away, hastily rubbing his eyes. Because unfortunately, his brother was right. He could do nothing. He was useless. He was the one who chased John Dory off in the first place, and now he could do nothing to save him-
“H.”
Dickory’s voice had grown low, softer, in a way he hadn’t heard in a long, long time. So he just glanced over at him in suspicion, not exactly trusting the change in tone. But he was shocked to see his brother appear… Worried. And Dickory just took a breath, shifting on his hooves uncomfortably.
“It took me three days to track you down.” He said slowly, not meeting Hickory’s gaze. “And Diese Kinder sure seemed like they were in a hurry. There’s a chance they’ve already found him, and brought him back to their village.”
“We don’ know that.” Hickory strained, Dickory’s jaw going tight.
“We don’t know anything.” The older troll replied harshly. “But what I know is that you’re injured. You can’t help them. And no amount of stubbornness will fix that.”
“Dickory…” He pleaded, but his brother just shook his head.
“There isn’t anything you can do for them right now.” Dickory said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “So why don’t you just let me take you home, ja?”
Hickory blinked, confused. “Home?”
“Pop Village.” Dickory replied, hunching up further, still not meeting his gaze. “Your… Home.”
Hickory stared at him in shock, Dickory’s hair bristling in annoyance. “Don’t look so surprised, Arschloch.” His ears pinned back, frowning. “I know how you feel about that place, that stupid little smile you get when you talk about it. And you clearly won’t make it back there on your own. You have no idea how to take care of yourself, and you’ll run yourself into the ground out here… " His voice dropped to a mutter. "So let's just get you back there, ja?”
Hickory hesitated, unsure. After all, he wouldn’t count Dickory as one of the most trustworthy trolls he knew… What was his angle here?
“...Why are ya doin’ this?” He asked slowly, expecting his brother to bristle up defensively, start screaming at him once more. But instead, it was almost the opposite, Dickory practically wilting.
“I said last time I saw you, didn’t I?” He said roughly, massaging the area where his prosthetic connected to his arm. “I was just trying to do what I thought was best for you, but… I was wrong.” He spat the last word, as if it left a bad taste on his mouth. But his expression still softened, eyes growing distant. “And I don’t want to lose the family I have left just because I can’t change. I already made that mistake before. This time, I figured I could actually… Learn from it.” He closed his eyes, grumbling the last words. “...Tut mir leid.”
Hickory was stunned, silent as Dickory finally bristled, still not meeting his gaze. “Argh, das ist blöd, whatever, don’t expect any more apologies from me, ‘cause you won’t get any-”
Hickory walked over, still quiet. But he carefully lowered himself to Dickory’s level, grabbing his horns, and pulling them into his with a soft clack.
“Danke, D.” He choked out softly, before leaning back, Dickory just staring up at him in shock. And Hickory just extended a hand, Dickory’s surprised eyes flicking down to it.
“It’s a start, ja?” He asked, mixed feelings twisting in his chest. This wasn't forgiveness, no, but... It was a start.
Dickory's eyes had gone slightly misty, but he quickly shook his head, firmly grabbing Hickory’s hand.
“Sure sure, whatever you say.” He huffed, though his voice cracked a little, the older troll quickly clearing his throat. “Now c’mon, night is the best time to travel here. Traveling during the day in the desert, bah! Idioten…”
Hickory just chuckled. Yeah, some things never changed. He hastily trotted after him, just to stumble as his as his leg twinged in protest. “Dammit…”
“Slowly, H.” Dickory said, appearing back by his side, the roughness having disappeared once more. “Your… friend, will be upset if you hurt yourself more, ja?”
“Yes.” Hickory chuckled, imagining the lecture he’d get from the scruffy, grey troll. “He would.” However, his heart quickly sank, frowning. “I jus’ hope he’s alright.”
“Pft, that guy? He’ll be just fine.” Dickory scoffed.
But Hickory just pursed his lips, images of John Dory sleeping by his side flashing through his mind. The way he’d twist, and whimper, try to claw at his hand, as if the scarred flesh itself was attacking him. And the way he’d looked at him, right before he left, eyes haunted and broken…
“No.” Hickory replied, fear crawling up his throat. “He won’t be.”
Dickory frowned, before giving a soft nod. “Well, he’ll at least be happy to see you. He’d better be. After everything you’ve done for his sorry tail, he’d better be ficken grateful…”
Hickory nodded, but wasn’t entirely convinced. However, it didn’t really matter right now. All he wanted to know was that John Dory was safe. He stared out the horizon, he and Dickory slowly making their way across the sand towards the Pop Village woods.
I’m coming, Dory… Just wait for me, please.
I’m coming Home.
