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Grass Finn Bullshit
"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."
"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."
2/3
No, that wasn't it.
He had stretched up tall -- 600, maybe 800 feet in the air. The sun wasn't set at all, and the darkness cast out over the field was Jake-made. Squinting down at the distant ground, Jake could see some movement. At first, it was indistinguishable from the dance of wind through the tall meadow grasses. Then, he saw a streak of blue and white.
"Is that Finn down there?" Jermaine asks, perched on his shoulder eating a bologna on rye. Jake can't stop smelling the pickles and fights back irritation over his brother not offering to share.
"Yeah, I think so." Jake replies, trying to lean down to get a better look. Jermaine yelps, scrabbling to get a better grip on Jake's fur. He drops the sandwich.
"What the heck, bro!? You almost killed me."
"Wha?" Jake took a step, overcorrecting a bit to make sure Jermaine was safe. Even so, his response was tinged with defensiveness. "Oh c'mon, it wasn't on purpose!"
Something crunched beneath his foot. The feeling that came with it was as if someone flushed a toilet in his heart, a sudden wave of sucking emptiness overtaking his subconscious.
"Whoa there brother, watch your step."
Jake does so, feeling another crunch. Huge tears start forming in his eyes, falling to earth at high velocity. Before Jake knows what to make of it, the water is high enough to submerge him up to the knees. Below the salty ocean of his own tears, tall grass swishes like kelp.
"Been a while since we went to the beach, hasn't it?" Jermaine pipes up. "Remember how we used to go with dad? I wonder why Finn never came with us."
"He would always cry, Dad didn't think he could handle it," Jake supplied, distracted. He couldn't stop scanning the water for anything resembling their younger brother. His hat, a body, anything--
"We should go to the beach again, now that he's older."
There was that heart flushing feeling again, though this time it came with a different sensation--
---
Jake wakes up with a start, still half-dreaming as he fell out of his cupboard and stumbled toward the bathroom.