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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..."
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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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Thinking about what he’d been thinking, at that crucial moment felt like tempting a dangerous spiral. What if he couldn’t get back out? “It was like…someone was begging me not to do it.”
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Except for that darkness wasn't just scary. Sometimes, darkness lulled certain monsters to sleep. You never knew what you were going to awaken, poking around like this.
Still, ignorance only kept you safe for so long. Squeezing Finn's shoulder, Jake braces him gently.
"Could you recognize the voice?"
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“Fern,” he repeats miserably.
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"C'mere." He says, voice warm and devoid of disappointment. "I gotcha, bro. It'll take time, but we'll get through this."
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Still, a hollowness in his chest resisted the easy comfort of his words.
"What if we don't get through it?" His voice was choked and afraid, real anxieties bubbling up now that the dam had broken. "What if I can't be a hero anymore? Maybe I'm just permanently donked up!"
Some dismal, sick with guilt part of him felt like that was fair. Fern wasnt going to be doing any heroing anymore, after all.
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Maybe he had Jermaine to thank for that? The thought curls up around his stomach, squeezing a little.
"Would that be so bad? Slowing down on the hero stuff?" Jake asks, surprised by the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Was this still Jermaine in his head? He couldn't help but think back to his own crisis not too long ago, the way his brother had walked him back to himself... Damnit, even when he was a hundred miles away and Jake was pissed at him, Jermaine still managed to be the wisest guy in the room. "You're not locked in forever. If you want to make a change, you can."
It was then that Jake caught a glimpse of Finn's face -- his red face, wet with tears and snot and looking as if his heart might break in half if Jake continued down the road he was on much longer.
"--But," Jake course corrected, not missing a beat, "I'm positive there's a solution to this. We just have to keep trying. Now that I know, we can work together on it. No supercharged hero-yips are gonna stand a chance against you n' me, and that's a fact."
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"Yeah, yeah," he says agreeably, wiping his face with one hand. "That sounds really good, Jake."
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At its core, this was just his wheelhouse.
"You know what else sounds good?" All around them, that same four poster from before grew up from Jake's back. They were both tucked into it, the canopy overhead stretching across. As a last minute addition, Jake opened a hole in the 'curtains,' stars peeking in overhead. "A little first class shuteye, courtesy of JTD Dogways."
He tucks the 'blanket' up around Finn's chin, grinning.
"Eyemask?"
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If there was anything Jake was good at, it was helping Finn get to sleep. He’d been doing it since they were babies, whether it was rocking him, or reading him a story, or wrapping him up in a warm fold of skin-blanket. He knew the ins and outs of Finn’s sleep and what he needed almost better than Finn did himself.
“Sure,” he says sleepily, yawning as he closes his eyes. The warmth of Jake’s body all around him, the resumed thud of footfalls and slight sense of movement all creating a perfectly comforting environment for him. He could feel the last bit of weary energy from the day slipping away, breath slowing as sleep finally took hold.