doooooog | Grass Finn Bullshit

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."

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Part of Jermaine wishes he could rip Jake out of the shower and shake him a little. He suppose he couldn't fully blame him -- even now, every word to Finn felt terribly loaded. As if one wrong phrase might send him toppling over completely.

"Well, yeah... but not just that, right?" He pauses, setting down his cup. Couldn't go around it, had to go through. "This Fern person. Jake told me he was your friend, right?"

Finn’s whole body tenses, shoulder’s pulling into a stiff line.

“No, no, no,” He shakes his head, still holding tight to the small china glass with one hand and gesturing to his chest with the other. “Not my friend…me. He was like, literally me.“

Jermaine looks at him for a long moment, unsure of how to proceed. What would Jake say? He'd probably change the subject, or maybe just never let this subject come up in the first place.

"... Yeah, but he also wasn't you, right? I mean, you two were a little different, weren't you?" Whether or not Finn was willing to admit that, he knew there was no way two Finns would fight each other to the death unless something was very wrong. "You didn't even go by the same name."

“Yeah but that was just so it wouldn’t be confusing. We couldn’t be Finn and Finn,” he scoffs, looking away. Jermaine wasn’t wrong, but the confrontation of that fact made Finn’s chest feel tight. He felt guilty, overwhelmingly so. But he didn’t know how to put words to exactly why. He swallows, pulling his knees in closer to his chest.

“We weren’t different, we just…had different things.” Finn had their treehouse, their bed and their clothes, everything in the world. BMO and PB and all their friends, and most of all he had Jake.

Fern had…well whatever he had, he didn’t have that. Not the same way.

The demeanor shift was almost immediate, a strangeness overtaking his little brother the more he poked and prodded at Fern's legacy. Is this what Jake had meant, about how stressed he was even bringing it up? Was that why he seemed to blame himself?

What did Jake call it, asking for a play by play. Cruel? Jermaine's mouth set into a firm line, thoughtful in the worst way.

"Is that why he tried to hurt you? Because you had things he didn't?"

Finn’s expression twists uncomfortably.

“I don’t think he wanted to hurt me…he had this whole plan to trap me in some dungeon. He wouldn’t go out of his way to do that if he was planning on hurting me.”

There was a strange defensiveness to the explanation. Everything Fern did, Finn framed via what he would do. What he was capable of doing. Fern was a window into something Finn didn’t want to see…what he could be like if he was cornered, and hurting, and lonely.

It was strange, but Jermaine was sure he could feel his heart beating in his chest. Something about picturing his kid brother navigating all this alone in a field somewhere, completely on his own, scared him as much as the sight of him pinned to that sand golem had.

Finn just still seemed so... young.

"Trap you?" Jermaine hums, discontented by the mental picture. "Why? To achieve what?"

“To…be Finn, I guess!”

He looked frustrated, but it was an internally directed frustration, not focused on Jermaine, but on his own inability to explain things the way he wanted to. He huffs, standing up, sloshing some of the tea in his cup on the table where he puts it. He needed to move his body. Sitting and talking was making him feel bloated with anxious energy.

“He wanted a turn at being the main Finn. He learned how to look just like me, and I thought it was just a cool trick at first…we pranked Jake a couple times. But I think it just made him want to be Finn more.”

He was pacing now, walking back and forth near the coffee table, rubbing his side and gesturing while he talked.

The energy of the room seemed to change on a dime; the formerly cozy and quiet Finn now roiling with anxiety. It was almost as if that anxiety took on a physical form, writhing just beneath his little brother's skin. Visible to the naked eye, if only he could manage to slow Finn down long enough to look at him.

"Hey, hey..." Jermaine tried for soothing, but it came out a little anxious in his own right. How did Jake do this? Watching him, it all looked so easy. Was it as simple as saying the right words in the right order, or was there some ineffable secret something that Jake had that he lacked? "Just, sit back down, Finn, you're working yourself up--"

Edited 2022-11-27 07:04 (UTC)

“No, no, I don’t need to sit down,” Finn snaps at him, still pacing. He was breathing hard, the details of the room meaninglessly fading away while he carved a path back and forth. “Sitting there makes me feel like I’m going crazy.”

Moving didn’t seem like it was lessening that impression. Finn’s neck felt hot and itchy and his palms were sweating. At least the one that could sweat.

“It’s so hot in here…”

An anxious hum vibrated between Jermaine's grit teeth, standing as well with hands outstretched. It was a sort of stupid gesture in retrospect -- as if he was going to physically hold Finn in one piece? It seemed like something Jake might do, only Jake could probably literally do just that. Jermaine had never felt more like just a dog in his whole life, which was saying something.

"Do--do you want to keep talking?" He asks, genuinely seeming to look to his panicking brother for answers. "Or you could maybe take the pajamas off? I've changed your diaper so no judgments here, y'know?"

He was nervous, which meant talking too much. Maybe if he was more capable of paying attention, he'd notice the ambient shower noise was no longer sounding.

Finn doesn’t respond, just makes a frustrated noise and keeps pacing.

He hated this room, he hated all this weird stuff and the ugly floral painting on the wall he kept looking at. He felt trapped and cornered and wanted to…to fight. Except apparently he sucked at that now.

And this was the better outcome…he was the lucky version of Finn. It made him want to cry again but he was sick of crying, and especially sick of crying in front of his brothers.

“This is stupid,” he finally shouts, although what isn’t immediately clear. “Why are we even here? I don’t want to talk about this, why would anybody want to talk about this?”

Cubes of sugar, spring peas, atomic particles... Those were just a few of the things Jermaine felt smaller than in that moment. Finn looked ready to bite or bark or both, panic building up in him in a way that was both achingly familiar and frightening. He was still just a kid. How could a kid have this much pain inside him?

It didn't seem fair. None if it seemed fair.

"We just love you, Finny--"

Edited 2022-11-27 07:48 (UTC)

Finn turns on Jermiane, anger flashing hot.

"Don't call me "Finny", Jermaine, I'm not a dumb. Baby!"

Turning again, he bangs his knee against the coffee table, sending the tea over with a loud clatter and a startling pain. He grabs his knee, breathing in sharply, fighting back the big ~~baby~~ tears that were incoming.

"Son of a blee-blob-"

Edited 2022-11-27 08:14 (UTC)

"What the heck...?"

Jake's voice was soft, thought expressed almost subconsciously as stood in the bathroom doorway. He'd heard the raised voices, even if the words themselves were garbled through thick walls and expensive tile, but that did little to prepare him for seeing the confrontation with his own eyes. This had to mark the first time in history Jake finds himself regretting a hot shower.

"What the heck happened?" He says again, louder this time, stepping out from the bathroom threshold. Jermaine looks up at him with an expression Jake could only describe as caught; the guilty, shellshocked face of someone who had thoroughly fucked up.

"I--Finn just banged his knee--" Jermaine starts, rubbing the heel of his palm into his forehead, teeth grit so hard it looked like he might grind them down entirely. "It's my fault, Jake, I screwed up--"

Jake puts an end to that line of conversation with a hand against Jermaine's mouth, blocking his words bodily. There'd be time for that, but now wasn't it. Jermaine effectively bottled, Jake turns his full attention to Finn. The guilt that passes over his own face is brief, but palpable. Never should've left him...

"Jeez, Finn, that doesn't look great." Jake offers, studiously ignoring the fat tears starting down Finn's cheeks. Physical observations were safer than emotional ones, especially when Finn got like this. Jake kneels down in front of him, getting a better look at his knee. He lays a hand alongside it, scrutinizing the already-darkening bruise carefully. "I think you're gonna have to ice that."

Maybe it was the sudden chemical jolt of pain, or maybe it was his brother's return and immediate focus on Finn's physical condition, but things felt like they almost instantly de-escalated once Jake was back in the room. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, looking at the ugly bruise.

"It doesn't really hurt."

He found himself unconsciously avoiding looking in Jermaine's direction.

"Heh, okay tough guy." Jake chuckles, rolling Finn's pajama pantleg down back to his ankle. "You're still gonna need to ice it. Pretty sure I saw an ice machine in the lobby."

He pauses, strategically: "Or, it may've been on the second floor? Or the sixth? I dunno bro, you probably oughta do a few laps. This place is pretty fancy, there might be a machine somewhere that's got the real good ice."

Jermaine watches, hand still covering his mouth, baffled. If Finn was hurt why the hell was Jake making him run all over the place to find ice, which he probably didn't even need if he was well enough to do that? Finn wouldn't just listen to that, would he?

He would.

Happily seizing on the opportunity to get out of the room, and for a task, regardless of how menial.

"Okay, yeah. I'll find it," he exits quickly, looking more than a little embarassed as he dodges both of their gazes.

"And don't come back until you find the good ice, hear me?"

Jake chuckles, one hand on his hips as he waves after Finn. His third hand, the one still pressed up against Jermaine's mouth, exerts a little more pressure as their kid brother leaves the room. It's only as the door slams shut that Jake relieves the pressure. Coughing, Jermaine wipes a hand over his mouth, glaring at his brother in naked confusion and frustration.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

"Hm?" Jake pointed towards the door, a dumb look on his face. "Finn's gonna go get some ice."

Jermaine growled, stepping closer to him with a finger raised up just under Jake's nose. "Don't handle me right now, bro. I'm not sixteen."

That dumb look recedes into something a little more exhausted, staring evenly at Jermaine from the close proximity he'd placed himself. With a quick little shove, Jake extends the distance between them. There wasn't any hostility in the gesture, but Jake also didn't seem interested in entertaining Jermaine's intimidation check.

"What the hell happened, man?" He asks, lids drawn down in frustration. "I leave you two alone for half an hour and you give Finn a panic attack?"

It wasn't a kind thing to say, and both brothers seem to realize it in the same moment. Jermaine draws back as if stung, Jake's face falling almost immediately.

"That's not--"

"No, you're right." Jermaine says, eyes squeezed shut. "It's not your fault, Jake, it's mine. I can't believe I've let you do this for years."

Jake had been poised to reassure Jermaine, to tell him how he didn't mean what he said. How Finn was a tough kid and sometimes that meant you couldn't get through to him right away, how all this was still kind of new for them, whatever he had to say to smooth over Jermaine's crisis of confidence and get things back on track.

Only then Jermaine said that, and Jake found himself suddenly at a loss for words.

"I can't so much as ask about what happened without Finn completely blowing up! He's locked up tighter than a freakin' safe and you just... enable it!" Jermaine pushed his finger up against Jake's chest; not noticing that Jake was suddenly a few inches shorter than before. "C'mon, bro, ice!?"

"For his knee," Jake offers lamely, shrinking back a bit. Jermaine just laughs, a sharp bark that sounded neither happy nor amused. He breaks the stare between them, pacing around the room.

"I let you do it for years. Trusted in our parents wishes like a good dog, again, while you turned Finn into... into Dad!"

"Hey, Dad was awesome--" Jake begins, in an almost reflexive response, his own hackles rising a little at the direction this conversation was going. Jermaine didn't let him get very far, completely unaware of the mirrored picture the pair of them were painting as he continued to pace.

"Dad never let anyone in, probably not even Mom! Is that what you want for Finn?"

"No," Jake said, emphatically, raising himself up to a larger height. "Finn knows I'm here for him."

"Just so long as he never talks about anything too serious, right? Who's that remind me of?"

"You're way off, Jermaine. And way outta line. I don't know what the hell that demon's got you believing--"

The teapot broke when Jermaine lunged, the sounds of barking and growling filling the room and carrying out into the hall. It wasn't the first tie they'd fought like this, though it was perhaps one of the worse ones. They weren't on the same page, they were hardly even in the same book. A table breaks next, both dogs barking angrily in each other's faces, each brother trying to pin the other.

Outside, a housekeeper presses an ear to the door and quickly decides to skip to the next room down the hall.

Finn’s prescribed quest to find ice (and walk off some of his panicked energy) had been largely successful. Even just a couple short loops around their floor of the hotel helped Finn burn off some of the anxiety building in his gut. It didn’t take much considering how tired he already was; the day’s earlier encounter had left him sore and exhausted, his body practically begging him for sleep.

Clutching his bucket of ice (the good stuff), he decided to head back to their room. His knee really could use some icing, and his mind kept coming guiltily back to Jermaine. He felt badly for snapping at him when all he was trying to do was help. Sometimes Finn wasn’t quite sure how to act around Jermaine…they hadn’t spent the same kind of time together as Jake and him. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the easiness of that relationship just wasn’t there with Jermaine.

Coming up to their door, Finn could hear the fight before he could see it. A muffled commotion that was at once familiar, but also alarming. Pushing open the door, he rushes in, freezing in the entryway.

“Wha…” Finn had seen Jake and Jermaine get into fights before…it had grown less common as they’d gotten older, and yet more serious when it did happen. But this wasn’t just a brotherly scuffle, or even a small disagreement that had come to barks…they were really fighting. He couldn’t comprehend how it had escalated so fast.

Dropping the bucket of ice, he jumps to intervene, throwing himself in and wrapping his arms around the first dog he could get to, pulling him away.

“Guys, stop, what are you doing!?”

To a certain extent, fights among littermates were just a natural part of growing up a dog. A sort of built in tension reliever, there were dozens of times where things had built to a boiling point between him and Jermaine... only to be undone by a quick tussle, leaving them in a better place on the other side. Hell, Joshua encouraged sparring between the two of them when they were kids. In many ways, it was just another way to play.

This time, Jermaine wasn't playing around. Neither was Jake, if he was being honest with himself.

He feels Finn's arms close around his middle, even as the rest of him still scrabbled and barked. Staring at Jermaine across the widening gap between them was almost like looking in a strange mirror, expressions he recognized as his own playing across his brother's face.

"Finn, stay outta this--!"

While Jake kicked, Jermaine seems to have a different reaction to their kid brother's sudden presence. The barking subsides, standing up straighter. A bite mark on his chest hadn't quite broken the skin, but it smarted something awful. Jake sported more than a few of those, too.

"Let him go, Finn." His eyes narrow, glaring at his brother. "He'll probably bite you if you're not careful."

The remark prompted another growl out of Jake, stretching haphazardly out of Finn's grip, resulting in an angry little puddle on the floor.

“This isn’t cool, you guys!” Finn tries to grab Jake again, but he was frustratingly amorphous, and impossible to hold. Finn didn’t like them fighting like this, it stressed him out. “You guys are brothers, you love each other! Quit being dinguses!”

His protests sounded so lame in the face of their anger. He just wanted them to stop. Everything felt so broken and messy…everything literally was so broken and messy. He just didn’t know how to fix it.

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.

Edited 2022-11-28 00:55 (UTC)

“Huh?” Finn’s arms fall to his side, looking at each of them in turn, bewildered. This didn’t feel good. Jake and Jermaine had their ups and downs, their closeness waxing and waning over the years (mostly waning if he was being honest), but ending a fight like this? It left a sour taste in Finn’s mouth.

“Wait, c’mon, Jake,” Finn put a hand on his arm, leaning closer. “You don’t really wanna leave like this…do you?”

"I'm not messin' around, bro." Jake was already stretched to the opposite side of the room, pocketing fistfuls of hotel snacks. Whether he raised his voice to be heard or cancel out Finn's line of questioning wasn't really clear. It was the kind of tone that brokered no argument and one Finn heard very rarely. Not since he was a young kid, still prone to tantrums. "I saw your clothes on the bathroom floor, so don't forget 'em."

He walks past Jermaine without even looking at him. Or, more accurately, without looking at the visible bite marks on his chest and neck.

"Grab some of those little hotel soaps too, while you're at it. I'm gonna wait outside. Five minutes tops, got it?"

Edited 2022-11-28 01:36 (UTC)

Grass Finn Bullshit

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