“Seriously, he owes us, big time,” Finn says with a grin. It felt good to joke, even if it was transparently a cover for how stressed and worried they both were. Finn absently hoped that this ordeal was almost over…seeing Jake’s face was just about the only thing that could make it all worthwhile. Although, part of him had to admit that it was nice to spend some time with Jermaine…even if the circumstances were about the worst one’s imaginable.

“You ready for whatever this thing’s gonna throw at us next, bro?” Finn opens the door, and seamlessly, they’re standing in the entryway of the treehouse. He knew it too well for there to be any doubt, even if it seemed…different in some way he couldn’t put his finger on. There was no treasure piled in the room and there was a slight chill to the air, a staleness.

“This is the treehouse…” he says, although he’s sure Jermaine knows just as well as he does. Finn wastes no time scrabbling up the ladder at the far side of the room, a distant hope starting to form that maybe this was where they were meant to find Jake. It was home after all, their current home…what better place to find him?

The room at the top of the ladder, however, hardly felt like home. Finn looks around in confusion, the room that he thought of as their kitchen barely resembled one now. There was no real furniture to speak of, just an array of some of their dad’s less dangerous or actively cursed artifacts, scattered in haphazard organization, half of them in boxes. The stove was there, underneath some cartons, but it didn’t look like it had been used in years. There were none of their pictures on the wall, no curtains on the windows, it even smelled empty. Nothing to indicate that anyone lived here.

“This…it’s like when we first came here.”