John was floored. He had no idea that making a stupid blog on a stupid website could lead to finding his potential father. He’d abandoned the notion years ago that he’d ever find his dad, but learning of alternates and timelines and even bloodswaps had taught him that even if he never found his friends… he’d find some.

Taking a deep breath as well as a step back from his computer, he closed his eyes and focused. His house. His home. With his dad standing next to the dining room table with a plate of cupcakes and lunch freshly set out and - He stopped his little setup, only to realize he was crying. Just a little. He hadn’t seen his dad for so long… he’d thought something bad had happened to him. And now he was going to go see him.

He took another deep breath to steady himself, using his hood to dab at his eyes under his glasses. He didn’t want to seem like a baby! He was an adult. And he wanted his dad to know that. And even if he’d done bad things he wanted him to be proud of him. Face set into a look of determination. picturing his house once again. The flowers out front. The tire swing. The refrigerator that had all his stupid drawings stuck all over it.

Disassembled and reassembled, he was deposited on the doorstep with a zap, landing neatly on his feet and eagerly trying the door. It was open, and he all but barreled inside, eyes (now dry) wide with excitement and a small amount of apprehension.

“Dad? I’m here! Dad??” Sprinting into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. There he was.