Everything Has Changed (Trolls Spider-Man AU)

Would've Could've Should've

Branch entered the kitchen, his deliberate footsteps echoing with a subtle sense of defiance. Minutes earlier, John's call had pierced the stillness, yet Branch decided to make John wait.

As he neared the island where meals were shared, John Dory had already begun his culinary venture, the aroma of freshly prepared food wafting through the room. Branch's plate sat before him, a silent invitation to the upcoming dialogue.

"The table I've ordered is coming in tomorrow," John stated casually, his gaze fixed on the plate in front of him. "Will you be able to help me put it together?"

Branch eased into his seat, fork in hand, adopting an air of nonchalance. "I don't know; I'll need some time to think about it."

A weighty silence draped the room until John, unable to contain his thoughts any longer, interjected, "Okay, it's been long enough. I'm going to talk about it now."

Branch's senses heightened. What was the impending topic—was it the night their grandmother passed away? Did John hear him come in the other night from the fire?

"Why don't you like me?" John's inquiry hung in the air, fraught with layers of history and unspoken emotions.

Branch's response was swift, revealing a reservoir of lingering hurt. "You left. I didn't even get a goodbye." He said it as if it were the most obvious thing.

John's silence prompted Branch to elaborate. " I don't see why we need to talk about it now."

"Branch, I left because I had to," John asserted, his tone carrying the weight of unspoken struggles.

Branch scoffed, a mixture of disbelief and resentment coloring his expression. "Yeah, sure."

The revelation of their fractured bond echoed through the room, and Branch continued, bitterness tainting his words. "You never wanted me. You left me behind."

John's eyes softened; utensils abandoned on his plate. "Branch, ever since Mom and Dad were killed, being a cop was all I could ever think about."

Branch's frustration found an outlet as he bit the inside of his cheek. "No. There was a time where you didn't always want that. There was a time where we would put on our own little concerts for Grandma. I remember that. Floyd remembers that. It's seeming you're ignorance has caused you to have a faulty memory."

In the face of Branch's accusatory words, John's gaze bore the weight of regret. "Branch, I couldn't wait. I'm sorry, I was a dumb teenager. I had every opportunity to visit you, but I didn't. And for that, Branch, I'm sorry. I can't take it back, but I had a responsibility."

The counter absorbed the force of Branch's controlled frustration as he slammed his fists down. "No! You had a responsibility as my brother, but you gave that up!"

John, confronted with Branch's raw pain, met it with remorse. "Branch, I'm sorry. Grandma once said, 'With great power comes great responsibility.' That's why she became a nurse. That's why I became a cop. I helped so many people because I went to the academy right after high school. I made a difference."

Branch looked down and John turned completely to face him. "Branch, you can't let a grudge consume you. I'm not telling you to forgive me, I wouldn't even forgive me. But you can't force yourself into this, complying with this grudge. Branch, I'm telling you to let go."

Branch, battling tears and a quivering voice, struggled to comprehend. "What if I can't let go?"

John's expression softened, embodying sympathy, as he drew Branch into an embrace. Overwhelmed, Branch sobbed into John's shirt, a torrent of emotions unleashed. Though Branch didn't reciprocate the hug, he didn't pull away either, allowing the floodgates of unresolved emotions to inch toward reconciliation.