Grass Finn Bullshit

[doooooog]

"Finn!" Jake cupped a hand beside his mouth, the other six or seven busy putting away their haul from the Bargain Kingdom (a store, not a government, for once). A ninth hand sprouted to gently retrieve the vuvuzela from where BMO was absconding with it. "You hungry, buddy? They had a huge special on boar meat, I'm thinkin' sloppy joes!"

"THEY LEFT!" Neptr chimed in, sullenly, from his perch on the stair. "FATHER AND GRASS FATHER. NOT NEPTR."

"Oh yeah. Well, don't sweat it Neptr, that chicken coop is the kinda thing that changes a man. Better to skip it."

"NOT A CHICKEN COOP, A DUNGEON ADVENTURE."

Jake's coordinated dance of arms flagged for a moment, doubt curling in his gut. The prickle of concern was followed immediately by guilt. What the hell was he worried about? Two Finns were better than one. He could stand to cut Fern a break, even in his own thoughts.

"Welp, you can help me on a culinary adventure if you want." Jake's gaze dances from the meat to Neptr. "Whaddya think about Sloppy Joe Pies? Has a nice ring to it..."

---

The sun was slung low in the sky by the time Jake heard the familiar sound of Finn's return up the treehouse steps. Alongside the involuntary prick of his ears, the dog feels a smile start to spread. No matter how capable the kid (teenager) had become over the last decade, Jake was pretty sure he'd never lose the sense of relief that came over him when Finn came home safe.

Lately, lingering misgivings aside, those feelings were starting to blossom towards Fern as well.

"Hey boys!" Jake lets the smile grow to a grin, craning his neck over the arm of the couch. "Y'all have fun out there?"

Jake felt suddenly cold, as if some cosmic entity had reached its hand down and pinched out the contented flame and safety of home. His voice lost its usual buoyancy, standing up from the couch.

"Wait, what happened?"

Finn said nothing, standing there looking as if he'd been through a woodchipper. Blades of grass clung to his hair, his clothes, even stuck to the razor sharp line of blood at his exposed stomach.

"I know that look!" BMO chimed in, sounding pleased to be the one with the answer to Jake's question. Neither the boy or the dog seemed to hear him in that moment. "You just killed someone."

Comments

[heroooic]

It felt like it had been days and days, not just hours since he’d been in the treehouse. Something fundamentally changed about it, like a rearrangement of furniture or a shift in light that he’d never seen before. Something that you didn’t really notice in increments but you could really see when you left and then returned. But nothing had changed. Not the treehouse anyway.

BMO’s words didn’t quite sink in so much as a wash over Finn. He looked at them both, settling on Jake a moment longer before his gaze ranged away, reaching down to wipe some grass off his shorts, watching it fall to the ground with a weird feeling in his stomach.

“I think…I need a shower.”

[doooooog]

Jake's relationship with his body didn't leave much room between an emotional reaction and the physical one. Split second instincts were crucial when it came to most of his shape shifting, which was maybe why he found himself at Finn's side before he could fully grasp what had happened.

Grass stains, dried blood, Finn's strange dead voice... Jake needed to focus. He needed to say the right thing here.

"Heh, uh. Yeah, you reek, pal." No! Wrong! Bzzt! "C'mon, I'll take you--"

[heroooic]

Finn raises a hand (his right hand) before just as quickly letting it fall to his side.

“No, no. I got it. I know the way.” His tone was strangely flat, lacking any sign that Jake’s quick, light hearted response had had effect. Normally it would have worked. Something big, or scary or unsettling enough to shake him would be quickly met by Jake with a joke, an offered meal, a warm bit of comfort or praise that would make Finn smile or buffer away the threat of rumination. What else were big brothers for?

But now there was….a wall. It wasn’t insurmountable, but it was sturdy. Significant. They could both feel it.

“I won’t be long.” He turns and descends the wooden ladder behind him, hand over hand, disappearing from view.

[doooooog]

"Oh, yeah, uh, sure thing, Finn!" Jake finished strong at least, the initial weakness in his voice building toward something resembling bracing. He watches the kid go, frozen in place with a vacant expression on his face. Hell, part of him feels the urge to wave.

What the hell was wrong with him?

The mechanizations of their water barrels create a low hum throughout the treehouse, making it clear Finn's shower had begun. The sound was enough to finally jar Jake from his trance, kickstarting the gears in his head after nearly five minutes of starring at the spot Finn once stood. BMO had shifted to his side at some point, leaning against him in that sweet way he did whenever he knew Jake needed it. Jake gives him a few pats on the head in gratitude, not trusting his idiot mouth to express the thought verbally.

"I will create a new game for Finn when he is feeling better!"

The smile Jake meets those words with is warm, but tired.

"That's great, Beemo. I think he'll really like that." He holds a beat, looking down at the dark kitchen just below where they currently stood. "Do me a favor though... hold back on the cheering up tonight, alright? I think I need the night for some Big Bro-Little Bro business." Another beat, looking a little unsure. Both in whether it was right to ask that of BMO, or even his confidence in his own plan. "... Is that okay?"

"Hm..." BMO seemed to think about it for a moment, before looking up at Jake with his usual smile. "Yes! That will give me more time for my game!"

"Great!" Jake breathes out, relieved. "Thanks, BMO."

"You are welcome, Jakey!" BMO holds a moment, before pointing at the top of his 'head.' Jake bent down for a quick goodnight smooch, sending BMO to his room in a torrid of giggling. It was enough to make an old dog feel nostalgic.

There was a time when even the worst things -- sad things, scary things, things that rattled Jake -- could be cured with good spirits and maybe an especially goofy bedtime story. That went both ways, too. Their parents dying, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to Jake. Just about the only thing that made him feel remotely pulled together was making his kid brother cinnamon toast and telling him jokes until they both forget how much they missed them, at least for a little while.

Climbing down the ladder into the kitchen, Jake found himself drawn to their breadbox.

---

When Finn exits the bathroom, he'll find Jake waiting at the kitchen table. In front of him is a towering pile of thick-cut cinnamon toast, two glasses of milk, and Jake's own hopeful expression.

"Hey, bro. Feeling any better?"

Dog Beach | The Next Day

[doooooog]

Dog City was a bustling place, full of crowded buildings and busy streets. Parks were common, but small and worn down from frequent use. If a dog really wanted to get away from the rat race, there was only one place to go: Dog Beach(tm).

At least, that was the marketing line hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Back then, the little sandbar about an hour outside of Dog City was a densely packed vacation hub for city-weary dogs and their pups. After the Dog-Rainicorn Wars reached their uneasy (but enduring) peace, the beach saw fewer and fewer visitors. More and more dogs decided to combat overcrowding by moving into the Crystal Dimension, where the freshly colonized land allowed plenty of room to grow. These days, the most interesting things about Dog Beach were treasures of the past hidden under the damp sand.

It was that allure of that mystery that made it a favorite of Joshua and his steady Margaret while they were courting. That same mystery brought him there with his sons years later, holding contests and treasure hunts to hone their dungeon craft. Today, it's nostalgia and hope drives the trio of Joshua's children back to the junk strewn beach. Emphasis on hope.

An ancient metal sign was hung high on the chain link fence that surrounded the stretch of empty sand, carefully edited to read: No Dogs Allowed On The Beach. Jake stood in front of it, stretching up a hand to slap it with a grin.

"Hey Jermaine, aren't you gonna touch the sign?" The goading remark was met with the heavy sigh of someone who had heard the same thing every single visit. "C'mon, nobody gets in until they touch the sign, it's tradition!"

"No way, that tradition died with Dad, bro."

"Booo!" Jake protested, turning to Finn. Their babiest brother was bringing up the rear, looking as unreadable as ever. Jake redoubled his own enthusiasm in response, even as Jermaine pulled an exasperated face. "Hey Finn, rule is you gotta touch the sign before you go in. Slap that sucker!"

[heroooic]

The day couldn’t be more perfect for an outing to the beach. Bright, sunny, warm and punctuated with a gentle, salted breeze coming off the water. Finn thought it felt nice, even if he was missing the finer features of the day, mostly looking down at his feet while they walked. He’d even broken out the flip flops for the occasion.

Jake’s enthusiastic call to action brings him into the conversation, and he looks up, a confused look on his face. “Oh, uh…yeah. If it was dad’s rule…”

He reaches up, jumping a little to reach, and slapping the sign with his metal hand. It reverberates with a dull ringing sound. Finn smiles, turning to his brothers.

“Come on, Jermaine…you too. I wanna do it right.”

[doooooog]

"Oh yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about!" Jake cheered, stretching a hand to affectionately muss up Finn's hat. It briefly covers his eyes, allowing Jake a moment of wordless pleading in Jermaine's direction. He jerks a shoulder towards the sign, eyes purposeful.

"Finn's right Jermaine, we gotta do it official-like!" Jake's tone was needling and obnoxious, a far cry from the desperate plea he'd just worn across his face. He was good at that, Jermaine found himself musing on bitterly as he began climbing up the rusty chain link.

"Alright, I'm going..." Jermaine kept climbing, muttering to himself about the universes bias against him and his small, unstretchy body. He taps the sign, wincing at the immediate cheer from Jake. Still, despite the show of annoyance, Jermaine's tail starts to wag. Just a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, my body is a poem. Now get me down from here."

With a quick double loop of Jake's arms, he's lowered to the ground. Just before being unwrapped, Jermaine feels a soft squeeze on his shoulder -- grateful and under the radar. Jake really was worried, wasn't he?

"Next up's the race to the ocean!" Jake announces, full of competitive bombast. "You two ready?"

Squaring up for a run, Jermaine rolls his eyes. He nudges Finn, adopting a loud stage whisper: "We can't let him win or he'll be like this all day."

"Be like what? Awesome??" Jake taunts, limbering up with a few cartoonishly exaggerated stretches. "Count us off, Finny!"

Jermaine nudges Finn again, this time silently mouthing: You run, I'll grab his legs.

[heroooic]

Finn looked enthused about that, smiling excitedly at the prospect of a race with his two favorite brothers. It had been a long time since the three of them has gotten to spend this kind of time together...it really was lifting the gloomy haze off of his day. Even Jermaine was smiling.

"Alright, you guys ready...to lose?" Finn mimics Jake's stretches, readying himself, holding back a conspiratorial grin. "Three...twooooo......ooooooooone..."

He milks the long pause, crouching lower... "GO!"

The word was barely finished and he was off running, tilting into a sprint, kicking up sand and not even looking back.

Dog City Hotel | That Night

[doooooog]

It wasn't often that Jake found himself in a hotel, let alone one as fancy as this. With his own unique brand of fast travel, there was never much need for he and Finn to spend a night outside the treehouse. Whenever going home wasn't an option, bedrolls under a sky full of stars were more than enough for them.

But Jermaine had insisted, citing the desire to make a real trip of it. Bryce had set it up apparently, trading them a couple of Jermaine's paintings for the 5-star experience, and for whatever reason Jermaine seemed determined that his dealer's efforts not be in vain.

It wasn't all paintings either, Jake had seen his brother tossing coin to anyone who so much as showed them where the bathroom was. Concierge, wait staff, bellmen... This place has bellmen. Jake hung out with princesses all day, but even he felt a little outclassed.

They got some looks heading through the lobby, not that Jake particularly noticed or cared. He was focused on Finn. The kid looked normal enough, but there was that same mutedness that followed him everywhere lately. Normally, Finn wouldn't be able to contain himself in a place like this -- asking a million questions, enthusing about the amenities listed in the brochure, stripping down for the heated pool and sauna. Not silently moving through with a polite, distracted smile on his face.

But that's what made all this so tricky to navigate. Was Finn truly in trouble, or was he just... changing? Sixteen was such a tumultuous time. Jake couldn't be sure if those changes were a trauma response or simply growing up. The former made his kidney's ache with unvoiced worry and the latter made his heart hurt with nostalgia.

Upon reaching their suite, Finn immediately called first shower; a healthy amount of shaking left Jake and Jermaine considerably less cold and disgusting than him, and the two dogs were more than happy to rid themselves of boy stink ASAP.

With a click of the bathroom door, Jake allowed himself to become distracted by something other than his kid brother. Walking into the room to get a better look, his eyes and mind bounced around from one detail to the next at a quick pace. There was a sitting area with overstuffed chairs, two bedrooms with three beds, an office area, a kitchenette, and a truly huge window overlooking the ocean and the hotel's manicured grounds. Jake slammed the drapes open, pressing his face up against it curiously.

After his eye feast, Jake turned back to Jermaine. He was just finishing up with the bellman who had brought up their baggage. Well, Jermaine's baggage. Finn and Jake travelled light, but their brother came stacked. Bryce had sent along paints, canvases, his easel... Jake wondered how long their brother was planning on staying.

"My bro's got fat stacks these days, huh!" Jake plunks down in one of the chairs, grabbing wrapped candy from a bowl in the center of the coffee table. "Painting must be going pretty well. This place's even got..." He squints at the wrapper. "Carob? Gross."

[heroooic]

Jermaine had his concerns as well. Not just about Finn, but Jake as well. He knew they lived a dangerous life…that was expected. But there was something about actually witnessing it. It gave him that same anxious twist in his stomach he would get as a kid when their parents were off doing something dangerous. Their dad wasn’t much of a believer in shielding his kids from the reality of his work and Jermaine was painfully aware of how life-threatening some of those excursions had been. He would be at home, unable to sleep, unable to eat, worried half-to-death that this would be the time their mom or dad or both simply didn’t come home.

Ironic, really. He’d made peace with it in a lot of ways, but thinking about it too hard gave him a sour feeling.

Jermaine sinks comfortably into one of the chairs while Jake looks around. He’d made himself a steaming cup of tea and was sipping it slowly.

“Well, I’ve just got a lot more time for it these days.” Ever since we burned down mom and dad’s house. “But I’ve gotta give all the credit to my dealer. It’s really just about finding the right audience.”

[doooooog]

Tail wagging at the smell of tea, Jake hops up to fetch himself a cup as well. The mugs here were dainty and didn't hold all that much liquid; not really his speed, but when in Rome...

"Oh right, Bryce. He set all this up, right?" Seizing on a fresh distraction from the Finn situation, Jake tosses a sly glance over his shoulder as he rips open the teabag. "What's that like?"

[heroooic]

“What’s what like?” Jermaine feigns a little indignant ignorance. “Bryce’s beef with dad is just that…dad’s. I don’t believe in holding onto that kinda stuff. Bad for your kidneys.”

He takes another sip of the tea, savoring the calming warmth of it.

En Route To Home (From Dog City) | Even Later That Night

[doooooog]

The path home always looked different after dark.

High above them, the moon illuminated Ooo in a milky blue light. It reflected off streams and made tree tops blend together into a soft mass, like paint fanned over a canvas. This far up in the sky, the landscape somehow became more than the sum of its parts. The darkness bore abstract shapes, coming together in a strange and distinct painting.

Jake felt something dark twist in his gut. He couldn't quite put a name to the emotion; only that it came with the strange sense that he was a little bluer than before. Watching his legs move slowly over huge tracts of land with each step, he forced himself to conclude otherwise.

Same old Jake. Just the moonlight playing tricks.

Up on his back, Finn had been quiet for some time. It was late -- much later than they usually travelled -- and Jake stretched together a pillow and blanket of fur to block out the night's chill and allow Finn to get some rest.

It was after a couple hours of silence that the thoughts rolling around in Jake's head were getting a little hard to take.

"You up, bro?" He pipes up softly, not wanting to risk waking Finn on the off chance he really had gone to sleep.

[heroooic]

“Mm? Yeah, I’m awake.” Finn’s eyes were heavy, and his body felt even heavier, but he couldn’t sleep. His mind was buzzing, and he found himself tossing and turning uncomfortably for awhile before simply lying still and watching the stars pass above. Jake had been uncharacteristically quiet, a fact that both worried, and annoyed Finn, for reasons that were hard to put a finger on. “What’s up?”

[doooooog]

It's only when Finn speaks that Jake realizes, deep down, he'd been hoping for more silence. He was expecting to get it too, with how the tossing and turning had given way to stillness an hour ago.

"Oh, nothing. Just makin' sure you were still back there. Need more skin-blanket?"

Without waiting for a response, Jake doubles up the thickness of Finn's 'quilt,' turning it into a veritable flesh comforter.

Treehouse | After the Grumbo

[heroooic]

“JAKE!!”

Finn shouts it with his whole chest as soon as he’s through the door to their treehouse. He was scraped and bruised and covered in half-cooked banana goo, but grinning ear to ear. It was late, he’d taken his time coming home after the fight with the Grumbo, choosing instead to celebrate a little with HW.

He slams the door closed, climbing the ladder to their kitchen, bouncing with energy. He paced around the kitchen, leaving footprints of mud and hot fudge, hand cupped around his mouth. “Jakejakejake…where are you?”

“Hold it, mister! You need to take off those dirty shoes! You are ruining my nice, clean floors with this…” BMO, appearing from his favorite hole in the tree branch, pointing aggressively at the sludge. “Nasty business!”

Finn laughs, which only gets a stern frown out of the little robot, who gestures exasperatedly.

“Now I’m gonna have to make Neptr clean this!”

“I’m sorry Beemo, I’ll clean it later…have you seen Jake?” Finn sits and kicks off his muddy shoes, if only to appease him.

“Jake is in the bathroom, icing his wounds,” BMO says with a little digital tear, holding his hands together. Finn didn’t really remember Jake getting seriously hurt, and has a brief moment of worry about it before deciding that BMO was probably exaggerating in his typical fashion.

Grinning, he rushes over to the bathroom, knocking once before swinging the door open abruptly. “Jake, hey, guess what?”

[doooooog]

It was a hot summer night, made hotter by the swelling knit through his muscles and soft tissue, but Jake may as well have been neck deep in Ice Kingdom frost. It was Lady's idea. After she scraped him off from Peeb's lawn, flying him home while he moaned and groaned at every errant thermal, she suggested the same method that got her through the last few months of her pregnancy without gnawing her legs off.

He was about to ask what this special method was when she dumped him in the tub, flew off, and returned about fifteen minutes later with enough snow to preserve a dog three times his size. That being said? It worked a treat. She'd left him there with a quick smooch and Jake found himself on an express train to Sleepytime Station.

And that's where he stayed until a certain baby boy decided to crash the party.

"Gah!" Jake shouts, teeth on edge from the half melted ice that surrounded him. "Finn? What the..."

He draws up his knees in a show of unnecessary modesty before looking Finn up and down, suddenly struck by something alarming. Not the hot fudge ground into his hair, or the sizable burn on his arm, or the fact that he seemed flushed from something other than exertion. No, Finn looked... really, truly himself. It was as if Jake was seeing his brother's face for the first time in over a month.

A smile tugs at his mouth, unbidden.

"I dunno, man, should I get out of the bath or stay seated?"

[heroooic]

“You stay in there,” Finn kneels next to the bath tub, grabbing the edge of it excitedly. He smelled like a banana fudge sundae someone had left in the forest. “I slayed the beast, dude!”

He raises his arm in a mock show of swordsmanship. His exuberance seemed cranked up to a level Jake hadn’t seen since Finn was a kid. A younger kid. It had the excitement of newness, of doing something you didn’t know you could do…that had worn off a little over the years, replaced with experience and surety.

“You should have seen it, there was banana guts everywhere! It was awesome.”

Jake Is In Space | Five Week Period, Several Months Later

[doooooog]

"Didn't even get a pretzel!"

The sounds of his own voice seemed to echo off the thin atmosphere of the little rock, bouncing towards that black hole. Maybe Warren could hear him? Maybe it would ricochet off the walls of the fourth dimension until he went deaf. Or... blind. Something like that. PB would know, but Jake wasn't really sure when he'd get a chance to ask her.

Better off just imagining him split into a million tiny pieces, each piece catapulting toward their own personalized sun. A heat death so complete there was no chance any part of him might escape to give him or his puppies any trouble ever again.

Jake slumped back, letting his eyes fall shut with a sigh. Now that was a beautiful thought. He reached blindly to the side, hand eventually closing over a cold cocktail hotdog. He popped it in his mouth with out much thought, staring up into the inky blackness of space.

"Guess I'm dying in space after all," Jake tosses another hotdog in the air, stretching his mouth to catch it after it arced off target. "That's pretty chill."

Another hotdog in the air. This time, he misses.

"A-yup. Pre-tty chill."

Week One: Denial

Grass tickled at his ears as he lay back against it, the plushness of the earth feeling nice against his fur. Eyes closed like this, he could practically feel the rays of the sun and wind as they kissed past his nose. Or maybe that was just Lady's mane, cuddled as he was against her. A picnic of cocktail hotdogs and clown cake lay beside them, abandoned in favor of more interesting pursuits.

"오, 제이크. 더 이상 키스하지 않고 목이 아프기 시작합니다."

"Psh, Lady, you're like. All neck." He chuckled against her, obliging. "But you're the boss. Lemme just move down some..."

He begin to do just that, kissing down past her shoulder blades, nuzzling up against her chest, and... licking his own elbow.

Jake opens his eyes, illusion broken. As if he'd sprung a trap, Lady, the grass, the picnic, all of it snapped back into himself. He was alone again (or still), barren planet surface stretching out all around him.

Bitterly, Jake grabs a handful of cocktail hotdogs and shoves them in his mouth. His food supply was running short, but Jake didn't care. Finn was probably hot on the trail at this point, organizing whatever powers he had to to come find him. Sure, they'd jumped in an interdimensional door, but... y'know, how far could he be, really?

Finn was coming. Jake just had to be patient.

He holds up his right arm, shapeshifting it back into Lady and scrutinizing his work. It didn't... not look like her. The Hand-Lady kissed him on the top of the head and Jake sighed, leaning back down against a bed of grass.

"Now where were we..."

Week Two: Anger

Eventually, Jake had to give in to reality. Reality meant rationing, and rationing meant hunger, and hunger meant...

"Warren." Jake spat out, scratching a crude drawing of his bio-dad into the planet surface. He was surrounded by lightning, fire, and pitchfork wielding townsfolk. "What kind of a name is Warren. Joker probably lied about that, too."

Jake scribbled a little more. The townsfolk were on fire too, now.

"Idiot really thought he played me. Well, too bad, sucker. You mess with the JTD, you get bit."

With a growl, Jake scratched a hand across the drawing, sending it spiraling into nothingness. It was a contagious sort of nothingness, unfortunately, and Jake found himself swallowing back hot, angry tears as he stared down at the scratched out mess that was 'Warren Ampersand's final memorial.

"Hope it hurt when I killed you, Dad." He spits. "Yeah that's right, how 'bout a front row seat to all-a this hot teen angst you missed out on!"

Jake stands, letting out a few loud, guttural grunts -- verging on screams -- as he kicked a few more times at the drawing. The rage subsides quickly after that, replaced with its true source: hunger.

"We'll finish this later, Warren." He growls; pointing to his eyes, then back at the scuff marks on the ground. "Don't go nowheres."

Week Three: Bargaining

"This is it, Jakey. Final stretch. Winner brings home the clown's nose."

Jake steps back, scanning the field of play before beginning his wind up. Three quick steps, arm stretched up over his head, elbow stiff as he measured out his distance and...

"Oh, come on!" Jake cried in outrage as his rock sailed over the hand-drawn target, missing it entirely. "Interference from the crowd! Ref!"

A yellow, lumpy Finn in a "striped" shirt walked over the the rock, kicking it with his foot before shouting back -- in a high pitched, distinctly Jake-esque Finn impression: "Sorry, bro! Rules are rules."

"This is a pretty stupid game, man!" Jake called back, picking up another rock from the pile he'd collected, checking it for smoothness and aerodynamics. "How far away are you, anyways? I dunno how many more hours of Rock-Throw I've got in me..."

"Well," Yellow-Finn ponders, hands on his hips, "I gotta be pretty close now. That is, if I'm actually looking for you."

"Ha ha," Jake mocks, fingers tightening over the rock. "You and I both know you're on your way, buddy."

"Let's make a bet! You try to bean me with that rock, I try to dodge it. If you hit me, then I'll be here in... a couple days. Like, four tops."

"Uh huh..." Jake hums, thoughtful, tossing the rock the rock in the air a couple times. It was a good rock. "And if I miss?"

"You rot here for life, sucka!"

"Seems like a pretty dumb bet, bro. I don't know if I--" Without warning, Jake whipped the stone as hard and fast as he could in the direction of Yellow-Finn, voice raising in a delighted cackle at his deception. "Think fast, ya butt!"

The rock made contact and Jake immediately doubled over, wheezing painfully. He was losing mass hand over fist over the last few weeks. Weight didn't really mean much when you could shift your mass however you wanted, but losing too much of it did make rocks to the gut hurt more. Go figure.

"Oof... hah... haha..." He coughs out a few choking laughs, sinking to his knees. Yellow-Finn was long gone, but Jake didn't care. "Pretty funny prank, bro."

From his knees he flopped backwards, staring up at the inky sky intently. A few pained tears blurred his vision. Jake brushes them away quickly, coughs fading to dull laughter.

"Four days it is, pal. See you soon."

Week Four: Depression

Things were getting pretty dire out here on Planet Idiot. His cocktail hotdog supply was down to a measly eight. The clown cake? Only a few bites left. He'd managed to stave off true-blue hallucination for a while now, but those days were about to come to an unpleasant end once he ran out of food.

The scariest part, though, was just how little Jake could bring himself to care.

He lay on his side, flipping through hand photos with what felt like a hundred pound weight on his chest. Since he was a kid, crying never really came naturally to Jake. Their father never let it pass without some derisive comment or another. He'd learned pretty quick that laughing in the face of danger, or sadness, or fear was a fast track to Joshua's good graces.

And Jake was great at that! Better than both his brothers by a country mile. He did whatever he could to amuse himself in scary situations; fart jokes, dumb puns, whatever he had to do to distract himself from dread creeping around the corner. Eventually, it became second nature.

Time, age, and certain life events had softened that instinct. These days, Jake found it challenging to keep it together through any movie with a little kid in danger. One time, Lady told him she loved him -- same was as she'd done a thousand times before --and Jake found himself so full of gratitude at her presence in his life that he'd start to weep. Full on weep, for like, an hour. He never even told Finn about that.

And then there was Finn. Since he was a little baby, Jake felt like he was living with his heart running around outside his chest. Seeing Finn in pain, any kind of pain, had the same automatic response as someone reaching into his chest and squeezing.

Still, moments like this? Alone, scared, defeated? Jake couldn't bring himself to cry if he wanted to. It was like he was back in the house with his Dad, willing himself to laugh off a stubbed toe or bad day.

Jake ran a hand over a picture of his pups and grandpups, feeling each of their little faces. He was never going to see those faces again. Never gonna meet any more of his grandkids. Never gonna get another chance to show them that despite all the ways in which he messed up or wasn't there, loving them was never something he had to work hard at.

His chest felt hot and tight, but not a single tear fell. Jake let out a crackling laugh, feeling his ribs tighten against his skin as he did.

"Maybe Jermaine was onto something about Dad." He manages, wiping at a dry eye. "This sucks."

Week Five: Acceptance

The blackhole was swirling just above him now. It was beautiful in its own way. This whole place had a certain beauty to it. Inky black skies, dotted with millions of stars.

How many dogs had gotten to see something like this in their lifetimes? Not many, Jake bet.

His skin was stretched thin now. Efforts to stretch to a more normal appearance were easy, but took effort to maintain. There was no one here to pretend for, no little brothers to ease the fears of. Just him, alone, on a big rock.

Nobody was coming. And not because they didn't want to, either, Jake had come to terms with that. Where ever Jake was, getting to him just wasn't in the cards. It probably wasn't even in the same dimension. Just his luck, really.

Finn knew he loved him more than life itself, that much Jake was sure of. And he knew Finn would tell his kids how much he loved them too, even if they didn't want to hear it. For the rest of his life, if need be. That's just the kind of guy Finn was.

"Oh hey, check it out." Jake smiles, feeling a tear rundown his face. "There you are, buddy. Took you long enough."

His last hotdog chewed around in his mouth. He'd been savoring it for the better part of an hour, sucking every last molecule of taste from it before swallowing. There were worse last meals than this.

Overhead, a small pinprick of white light appeared. Jake thought it was just another star at first, until it started growing. The white pinprick quickly became a white hole, refracted light spilled out of it like sunshine through a crystal. Rainbows danced all over the planet's surface, filling Jake with a warmth he hadn't felt in weeks.

Wherever he was going next, there were definitely gonna be rainbows there. And if that didn't sound like heaven, Jake didn't know what did.

Mars | Five Weeks After Jake's Note

[doooooog]

"So," Jermaine asks, voice surprisingly steady for how much his entire body was still shaking from their journey. "This is Mars, huh?"

Finn did this all the time, presumably. Mars magic, space doors, cartwheeling through time -- his kid brother apparently had hands on experience with all of them, or at least knew people who did.

If you asked Jermaine if he expected himself to ever seek audience with the King of Mars, he'd have laughed in your face. For Finn that was just... Tuesday.

"Kinda dusty."

[heroooic]

"Yep. This is Mars."

Finn kicks a red clod of Mars dirt, scattering it in a cloud. He hadn't really expected to find himself back here either but it felt good to have a direction on what happened with Jake. He almost feels stupid for not thinking of it himself, but, well...Jermaine was the one with the dream visions, not him. He'd just been pretending Jake was over at Lady's or away for a day and coming back tomorrow. Those tomorrows just....eventually accumulated into weeks.

"Hey, so, in your dream....did you notice any other clues about where Jake might be? Birthday cake and cocktail weenies doesn't really narrow it down."

[doooooog]

There was something about an interstellar planet hop to shake the cobwebs out of a guy's head. He and Jake hadn't talked, not since their fight in Dog City a couple months back. It was far from the longest time they'd gone without talking, but it was still perhaps the tensest.

Jermaine got the news from the Candy Kingdom flown in through the mail, just to keep tabs. He knew from their, er, creative reporting that Finn was back on top hero-wise. All Jermaine could assume was that whatever Jake's methods were worked, and that Finn had successfully repressed himself to the point of efficiency and effectiveness. Joshua-style.

But that dream... something about it sat ugly inside him, like an old wound that never really healed right. Jermaine looked over to Finn, taking in his brother with fresh eyes. He was so distracted by the task at hand back at the treehouse, it was easy to miss all the little earmarks of poor self care. Jermaine hardly had to look at him to tell he hadn't seen a bath in a while, but looking at him definitely hammered home the point. Finn's skin had that dull, sallow color of someone who had done plenty of sweating but nowhere near enough scrubbing. The fresh tears in his clothes were left that way, standing out starkly against the careful patches and darning that dotted the rest of his clothes. He hadn't seen his hair yet, but Jermaine was willing to bet anything it was one huge tangle under that hat. Blech.

Why didn't he call me? Jermaine finds himself thinking, then promptly dismisses. Finn was 16 (no, crap, 17... he still owed him a birthday present. Like, five birthday presents), and nobody at that age thought they needed a babysitter. Let alone their stick in the mud older brother.

"I wish I knew more," Jermaine said, honestly, wracking his subconscious mind. "Wherever he was, I don't think there was anything else to go. The whole planet seemed seriously desolate. Like, no life period."

He swallows. Didn't bode very well for Jake, did it?

The Treehouse | That Night

[doooooog]

It was a bit of a hike from Magic Man's house to the treehouse. Normally Jake would have stretched them home in considerably faster time, but when he casually begged off (citing wanting to walk around back home, soak in the nature), neither of his brothers called him on it. Finn may have taken him at face value -- out of desire for it to be true more than cluelessness, probably -- but Jermaine wasn't so easily swayed by his brush off.

The sight of the treehouse did coax an honest moment of vulnerability out of Jake. Halfway through the hike, he'd hopped up on Finn's back (to get a better view, y'know, of the nature) to hitch a ride. As their home came into view, Finn could probably feel the way his grip tightened a little. He fell silent for a bit, processing just how unlikely it felt he'd ever see this place again.

Life was pretty wild, huh?

BMO sobbed. Neptr made a pie, which Jake pretty much immediately devoured. Finn continued to hang around him like a limpet, trying to play it off as happenstance that he always happened to be standing right next to him at all times.

"You guys must've been running around a lot up there, huh?" Jake jokes, elbowing Finn a little. "You reek, man."

Despite the long journey back, the specifics of what exactly Jermaine and Finn had done to get him back hadn't been discussed. They'd mostly just talked about what Finn had been up to the last five weeks, his lice adventures, all the ways in which he got confused at the store, and so on. The fact that Jermaine screamed on the Mars transporter on their journey out was as close as they got to talking about it.

Jake didn't mind. He had a lot to talk about, too, and very little idea how to do so.

"Maybe you should go shower and hit the hay, you're getting those dark circles."

[heroooic]

Having Jake back was like having everything right again. The treehouse felt right. It felt like it was supposed to, not empty and strange, a place for his anxieties to come to rest waiting day after day for his brother to come home. And now that he was here, Finn didn't want Jake out of his sight, lest that delicate return to normalcy sudden vanish. He'd only been out of sight for a few minutes last time.

So when Jake suggests that he head off to bed, Finn meets it with obvious reluctance.

"Well what about you? You must be exhausted too. I'll wait up, make sure you have everything you need." His eagerness to stay close was undercut by punctuating his declaration with a big yawn. "Do you want me to get a fire going? Or do you need more pillows?"

[doooooog]

There was a small kneejerk impulse to tease him a little; the natural course for all big brothers wanting to deflect or divert an overeager little sibling. Still, one of the strengths that came with spending such an absurdly large percentage of their lives together was knowing exactly when that teasing would be met with poorly. Call it a mother-daughter thing.

Jake pushes a paw up between Finn's eyes, rubbing the ridge there with a firm gentleness he'd done hundreds of times before.

"I just wanna stay up and enjoy Earth a little longer. I'll be up soon. And tomorrow, we do a big breakfast with Jermaine. 'Cuz you're staying, right bro?"

Before Jermaine can answer, Jake just nods to him, smiling back at Finn.

"Of course you're staying. It'll be like our last little moment of chill before I let Lady and the pups and errybody else know I'm not dead." He laughs, though there's a trace of something nervous there. Before the pause can last too long, Jake draws Finn into a loopy armed hug.

Stretching his head up to meet the crook of Finn's neck, he saves his last words just for him: "I'm gonna be right here, alright buddy? Tomorrow's gonna be crazy, I'm gonna need my bro at 100%."