Jake didn't fight him this time, reverting to his base form. Finn's arms were tucked up under Jake's, chest pressed up against his back. He could feel his kid brother's breathing, heavy and scared. Between that and the fact that Jermaine didn't seem interest in coming for him again, Jake felt his internal boiling point lower to a simmer.

"It's fine." He says, voice terse and very final, extraditing himself from Finn's grip. "We're headed home, Finn. Get your stuff."

Jermaine said nothing, turning away as soon as Jake's words landed. His arms were crossed tight over his chest, determinedly not looking at either of his brothers. Instead, he focused his gaze on the mess they'd made. Broken shards of ceramic and splintered wood.