A rush of colour and noises and feelings engulfed him, disorder sweeping through his brain, thoughts bubbling to a head in an instant and being buried again just as fast. A voice (his own, perhaps?) cried out, a scream echoing through the room. A warm, tingling itch spread through his body, pleasant at first, only to flare up into pain. It was the most agonising pain, as if a thousand billion tiny needles were all stabbing him at once. A single instant seemed to stretch for eternity, confusion and terror filling his world. And then it stopped.
That was what Simon Petrikov woke up to.
A deep, shuddering gasp shook his body as he pulled himself up from the hard, icy floor. He brought his hand to his face, meaning to rub his eyes, when he stopped. His hands were normal. Not all gnarled and wrinkled, but tan and baby soft. Just like they used to be. Hardly daring to believe what he as seeing, he glanced around the cavernous room, trying to see if there was a mirror. For all he knew, there probably was, but everything blurred together, making it impossible to tell. Stupid near-sightedness. Trembling hands found their way to his face, expecting his nose to rival Pinocchio's, and There was nothing but clean-shaven skin, and a nose that was perfectly average sized. A million thoughts raced through his mind, all different, but easily summed up in one word. How?
Simon took a step forward, and his bare foot kicked something metallic, a resounding clang echoing through the room as it hit against the wall. A shiver ran down his spine, and he pulled the now-oversized robe closer to his body, trying to shield against the freezing castle. Not that it really helped. He followed after the noise, and picked up the cause. It was the crown. Or, to be more precise, a scrap of it. Squinting, he scanned the area, trying to make out any details that might help him gather his thoughts on the situation. Scattered all about were bent and twisted fragments of gold, the broken remains of the torturous force that had held Simon in its grip. It was destroyed so completely, he could hardly tell which piece had ended in a point, and which had sat on his head. Really, the only intact parts were the gems.
They lay in the centre of the room, smouldering, a faint glow emitting from them. Had Simon been in complete control of his mental faculties, he probably would have stayed as far away as possible. Unfortunately, despite every bone of his body being filled with complete, unadulterated loathing for them, he need answers. And, as it seemed at the moment, the only person that could give them to him was himself. A tentative hand reached out for them, petrified of what might happen if he actually touched one. He stood there for what felt like hours, a fierce battle of wills occurring in his head.
You need information, Simon, and this is the only obvious way you're going to get it. There's-
NO! What if I go insane again? What if it kills me? They're freaking glowing! For all I know, they're about to go critical!
If, Simon. If. C'mon, what happened to the brilliant scientist in you? You used to be all about learning. Why stop now?
BECAUSE I MIGHT BE ENDANGERING MY LIFE, THAT'S WHY. A life that I literally only got back five minutes ago. I am not just going to throw it away like that!
Except you might be dying without them. Like last time.
Last time, the crown was affected by anti-magic, not freaking EXPLODED!
This went on for a few moments, with no end in sight. Simon was stuck between two equally terrifying choices; leave the jewels alone and risk dying, or touch them and possibly lose his mind again. Had his last coherent memory not been of his fiancée, and her pledge to save him, it would have been a no-brainer. Option one for the win. But if there was a chance, just the slimmest of odds he could see Betty again, Simon would have to survive. But again, what if surviving meant spiralling back into insanity? He probably would have stood there for hours, arguing with himself, had something not brought his attention to the outside world. A high-pitched bursting, like that of an exploding firework, accompanied by a glimmer of rainbow light. A hazy memory surfaced in Simon's brain, vaguely recognizing the magic he had just saw, and a confused look appeared on his face. "Magic Man? Why would you-"
"BZZT! Wrong! Geeze, Simon, you must be blind if you though I was that guy."
The voice seemed familiar, and oh-so-beautiful to his ears, but it also brought up a whole new mountain of questions. "Betty?" What would she be doing with magic? He whirled around, trying to locate the source of her voice, but she was nowhere to be found. Simon was beginning to feel incredibly uneasy again. "Betty, where are you? What's going o- AGH!" A hand had just come down on his face, and slammed a pair of glasses onto his nose, in what was quite possibly the roughest way imaginable.
"There ya go! Now you can see again! Which is great! I totally would have fixed your eyesight, too, but I didn't get the chance. Eh, I guess I can do it on our 're so getting married still, right? Right?"
Simon's head snapped up to the ceiling, eyes widening in horror. Floating above him was his fiancée, but she looked in worse shape than he had ever seen her. Her hair was matted and frizzed, her clothing was patched and ripped, she'd ended up with Magic Man's hat somehow, and- Oh god. Wizard Eyes. The blood drained from his face, and, horrified, he pulled her down from mid-air, grasping her shoulders tight. Voice gripped with fear, Simon choked out a sentence. "Betty, whatever you did to fix me, it wasn't worth it!"
Oblivious to his distress, Betty simply rolled her eyes, a bemused grin on her features. "Uh, yeah, it was. Dude, I didn't come a thousand years into future and travel all over the place and accidentally steal Magic Man's wiz-biz for nothing! Don't be stupid!" She pulled away, lifting back into the air. Hey, she'd gotten used to this flying thing. Why was she going to stand if she could hover?
"I'm not being stupid- Wait. You stole Magic Man's magic!? Betty, he's one of the biggest nutcases in Ooo! If you took his powers- Oh jeeze. This is bad. This is really really bad." Simon brought a hand to his mouth, horrified at the prospect. Betty had Magic Man's powers. Magic Man had been an incredibly powerful wizard. Wizards were prone to mental breakdown, especially the powerful ones. And if Betty had had even a fraction of the Martian's powers, chances were, she was-
"Nuts. I've gone completely nuts. But relax! It's fine! I'm so much better this way!"
"How could you say that!?" He pulled at his hair, practically hyperventilating at this point. "Betty, why!? Why would you do that!? What I went through was hell! Why would you condemn yourself to that!? Oh god, we've got to fix you, quic-"
SLAP.
Fuming, Betty stared him down, tears in her eyes. "I don't need fixing, Simon," she spat. "I'm fine!"
"But this isn't you! Please, just let me help-"
"SHUT UP. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT. This is me." She turned on her heel, and bent down, grabbing something. "Y'know what? You were right. This wasn't worth it." Kaleidoscopic sparks exploded from her fingertips, and Betty flung what she had picked up at Simon's feet. One of the jewels, now set on a gold chain. "Here's your stupid gem. It's supposed to keep you alive, so don't you even dare think of saying anything else that'd make me regret giving it to you. You've already said enough. We're over, Simon. I'm out." She teleported away, leaving him alone in the steadily melting castle, with nothing but the shattered crown for company.
"Betty…"