Will came 

home

rarely. Rarely enough he questioned why he still called it home. 

time

was moving fast now. When he found a moment to recount what had happened in the years that had zinged by he would realize that he had spent hardly any of it at home. Hardly any with 

family

. Such a thought was only had for a moment and then thrown away like a hot potato.

Time could only move faster from here on out. Would he still consider this place. The dilapidated town surrounding the 

cloud

 

factory

his home next time he had the chance to reminisce, what have I done in the past years, no, decades?

Will was back for a reason this time. Jesse used to say to him, back when they were best friends, you always think of home as your home, because you don't have any other. But if you lived here you would crave to get out just the same.

Jesse had not said this often. But in Will's memory it was a catchphrase seared in. He would never hear Jesse's voice again except in recordings. Never see him again except in images. Will wondered whether he would be happier now if he had recorded his friend more often. Probably not. But he could still believe he would be.

His phone vibrated. It was a text asking if he would be at tonight's service.