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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."
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Remembering himself, he continues: "Well, uh, the dream was at the beach Dad used to talk us to, he was saying we should all go back there again sometime."
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“That was kinda your thing though…yours and Jermaine’s. And dad’s.”
If Finn had ever been upset by being left out of those trips (even if it was really just his own fear), the feelings had mostly been soothed by the time he would get to spend with their mom. She would always make sure to spend a special afternoon with him while dad and his brothers were away. They would bake and she would let him mix batter or add chocolate chips. Or they’d go for an ‘adventure walk’ in the nearby forest, and she would hold his hand and tell him about the things that they saw or watch him look under rocks for bugs and treasure.
But still, he’d always kind of wanted to go.
no subject
Died. Dad died.
Jake moves his omelette around on the plate, brow furrowing. Funny how trying to distract from death just managed to bring them both right back to it.
"I'm just sayin', he would've brought you eventually." He looks up, trying to find Finn's eyes through the walls he was erecting all around him. "This could be like, closing the loop. Or something."
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“Closing the loop…” Finn repeats slowly, considering. Closing the loop on what? Dad? All the things that hadn’t happened and never would. The potential futures unfulfilled. Maybe that still weighed heavier on both of them then they realized.
Maybe they just needed some sunshine and open sky.
“Yeah, I think that could be good. Close the loop.” He taps his fork on the table absently. “It would be cool to see Jermaine again too.”
Everything felt a little like open loops lately. Circling back and back and back around. He first met Fern on a beach. That was an open loop too.
no subject
It was a muted reaction, but Finn may as well have been jumping on the table with enthusiasm for how pleased and relieved Jake felt. He was getting through to him. Maybe this funk won't be like the ones before, he thought, unaware of the irony harpoon the Cosmic Owl had aimed at his forehead.
Be careful what you wish for.