The Ice King looked at the toy in the witch's hand. He had caught her traveling through his kingdom. There was nothing impressive about the stuffed animal. Actually it was positively revolting. Dingy grey, stained, patched, miss-matched eyes, stuffing poking out between the torn seams.

A tug. A nagging sensation. An urge.

He snatched the toy from the witch and flew away.

The creatures in his vision were gone.

He wasn't sure where he was going. He didn't know. He was drifting. Drifting through Ooo. His brain was fuzzy. He was trying to think, to realize why he was doing this.

He ended up in a cave. Marceline's cave. He could see her house. He could hear her guitar. He might as well knock.

The music cut and the door was opened, "Hel- oh."

Oh. Just oh.

"It's you. Hi."

He hated that tone.

"What do you want?"

Silently he held out the toy.

Her eyes widened. She took a step back. With shaking hands she accepted the nearly destroyed teddy bear, like he had just handed her a princess, or a magic crown.

"Th-thank you…" she murmured. Why did she stutter? It wasn't cold.

He tilted his head to the side and shrugged. The nagging sensation was gone. The strange creatures that crowded his vision were back.

She was clutching the dirty scrap of cloth and fluff to her chest.

"Thank-you," she repeated.

"No problem," he responded, feeling dazed.

She stared at him for a moment longer. It made him uncomfortable. Was there something on his face? A crumb in his beard. Penguin doo doo on his robe?

"Bye," he said abruptly, his beard beginning to flap.

"Bye…" she said softly, still clinging to the bear.

He swore he could hear her say "Simon" but it was probably just his imagination.

Marceline shut the door, and slumped against it. Clutching Hambo tightly to her chest she began to sob.