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Jake knew exactly how the dream went. It started with an awful twist in his gut, a sense of dread that went deeper than anything that could be felt in the waking world.
The Time Room was set out before him; the hunched form of Billy-no, the Lich, had its back to him, crouched on its haunches over something. Jake shouted in wordless alarm, stretching his arms out to grab the monster and pry him away. The walls of the room stretched with him, carrying the Lich further and further from his grasp. Jake strained, trying desperately to step forward and close the distance, even though he knew what the outcome would be. Night after night it had been the same.
Jake snapped forward all at once, and the Lich was gone. He knelt alone on the bare floor of the Time Room; the dust that remained of Prismo’s corporeal form streamed between his fingers and back into the pile on the floor. A sound like a sob started low in his throat, then grew louder, turning into a full-fledged and deep laugh. He tossed his head back, laughing his throat raw. It was the Lich’s laugh; he’d become the mutated monster he had been in Finn’s wish. Toxic waste dripped from the corners of his mouth, and in his eyes, acid green pits glowed.
Jake woke with a violent spasm and a sharp gasp. He sat upright, eyes wide and hand clutching his chest, where his heart beat violently. Just across the room, Finn slept on his side, breath coming soft and deep while Jake’s was in panicked bursts. At least he hadn’t cried out, like he had the first time after that dream- Finn had woken up and Jake lied to him, saying he’d fallen from the drawer in which he slept. Finn bought it without a single suspicion.
Jake climbed out of the cabinet drawer and stumbled out of the bedroom. Shaky as he was, it was easy for him to stretch and pull himself up to the roof of their tree fort, where he sat and pulled his knees to his chest, then wrapped his arms completely around himself. Jake clenched his jaw as he looked up at the night sky, trying to hold himself together. He gave his head a quick shake, trying to still the echoes of Prismo’s voice in his ears.
Jake didn’t know how to feel. It was as if someone had pulled out his guts and begun wringing them with bare hands. His insides were twisted and knotted to the point he thought he’d vomit, and why? Anger, frustration, guilt? Thinking about what had happened at the Citadel set Jake off in every way. It had been a mistake, no matter which way anyone could look at. Nothing had been gained and the losses were…
Finn’s dad was awful. He was scum, and he was in the Citadel for a reason. Jake didn’t know what they’d expected to happen. He should’ve talked Finn out of it the minute they found out that was where intergalactic criminals went. He’d been so excited to find his father, but… Everything had gone downhill so fast, and now here they were. Finn lost his arm, his father hadn’t given him a second look as he escaped. And Prismo, Prismo had died. In the moment, the impact wasn’t as great. Jake’s first reaction was to attack the Lich; while that was a stupid idea and he could’ve ended up just as dead as Prismo, it hadn’t gotten them anywhere.
Wait, I’ve changed my mind-
A tremor went through Jake and he squeezed his eyes shut. He and Finn had both seen some terrible things, and the image of Prismo’s physical body melting to ash wouldn’t stop replaying in his head. Back in the Citadel, he’d been blocking it out, but in the dead of night there was nothing to save him from it the violent imagery.
Jake couldn’t stop asking himself why. Why Finn’s father had abandoned him at the Citadel, why they’d fallen into the Lich’s ploys again, and why Prismo had offered to die for them to get there. He said it would have taken him a thousand years to fall back asleep. Jake would’ve never seen him again; by the time the Prismo he knew was back, he would have been dead for centuries. And he’d been so sure of it. The last thing Jake wanted to think was that Prismo had wanted to die, and yet that thought weighed so heavily on him it was hard to breathe.
Suddenly, Finn was slumped next to him, leaning heavily on his side. Jake jumped, then quickly unwound himself; he hadn’t heard him come onto the roof.
“Why’re you sitting up here?” Finn asked tiredly. Jake wasn’t sure how he’d managed to drag himself up here.
“Oh, you know,” Jake said with a false grin, “Got hungry.” It was the first and most likely thing he could think of.
That made no sense, but Finn didn’t notice; he grunted softly in acknowledgement, sounding half asleep already with his head tilted to the side, resting on top of Jake’s. They lapsed into silence again, the loudest sound being Jake’s heartbeat in his own ears. He didn’t want Finn to know about those dreams.
“Whatcha thinkin’?” Finn asked quietly. Jake swallowed.
Prismo is dead, He wanted to say. He’s never coming back, and what for? Your dad, the worst guy ever? We killed Prismo, it was us, and he was perfectly okay with it. Why was he okay with it? Why did this have to happen?
“Had a weird dream.” Jake said vaguely.
“I did too.” Finn replied. “It was me and you, and PB, and we were… We were having lunch? Or a tea party, or… something.” He kept trailing off, almost falling asleep as he spoke. “Except like… We were all facing the walls. I was looking at one and you were looking at a different one and PB was…” Finn went on until he fell asleep again, and Jake let out a shuddering breath.
Jake looked up at the endless sprawl of stars above them and his eyes filled with tears. He sat there and stared at the night sky and cried.