Per 
Context: An SCP that guides the holder home (ability is a work in progress), this is a log that was recovered with the SCP. Means of Discovery has yet to be thought up. This might be an independent Tale or an addendum on an SCP. We'll see.
Faber,
If you’re reading this, it means I didn't make it to see you off, be it because of work or family or who knows what else. Regardless, I wish you a safe trip and pray you settle in well once you arrive. This might be uncharted territory, so to speak, but I know you’ll do just fine. We’ve been through worse, right?
At least to me, at the end of the day the closest thing to we can truly have to heaven on Earth is a place to genuinely call home. I won’t pretend that everyone’s idea of home is the same, living a cozy life in a cozy little house, surrounded by loved ones and friends, but for me it was that. On the night that you told me you were leaving you helped me realized just how much I valued that home, and just how big a hole was about to be made in it.
Of the three of us, Ernie definitely took it the hardest, I mean, the two of you grew up together. Of course, I went through the motions too; anger, denial, bargaining, and the like, but this time I spent with you in these last few days made my grievances seem so obsolete and I began to look at it differently, not as a permanent tragedy, but a temporary anomaly. And I latched onto that thought with everything I had; “He’s coming back.”
I don’t know if you believe in God, but I believe that He is just and loving, and I believe that He will see to it that this hole in our home will be filled, because you’re coming back. So go forth from here and do what must be done. We’ll be waiting.
Inside this envelope I’ve enclosed an old keepsake of mine that I’d like to pass on to you. Of the countless mission trips I’ve been on, from one end of the Earth to the other and back, I’ve carried that little stone with me everywhere I went; through every jagged mountain pass, through every war-torn battlefield, through every impenetrable jungle, through every village crying out for something greater, I carried this rock against my chest as a reminder of what I needed to remember awaited me at the end of every excursion: home.
Take this stone, and when things grow hard, remember us, remember home, hold on, and let it guide you. Neither of us knows how long it’ll be, but be it two years or two decades, before you know it the wait will be done, and I’ll be able to look you in the eyes at long last and say,
“Welcome home.”
See you soon,
-Nat
