Marceline was just five years old when her mother got sick.
At the time, she had no idea what it meant for her mother when she was bedridden, and when her father barely moved from her side. All that Marceline knew was that her parents were busy and couldn't do things for her, which left her fending for herself in what she would now consider the loneliest time in her life. She had few friends and, due to the war raging, those she had were barred from leaving their homes. She was alone.
Marceline was forced to play in the general vicinity of her house, where her father was able to keep an eye on her on the rare occasion he wasn't at her mother's bedside. It was the safest place to be, due to raging rumors that there was a man in the woods who would eat you alive without a second thought about it.
No one would dare mess with a deathless being's family, and so Marceline had very little to worry about during this time.
Little Marceline would spend her days playing soccer with a ball that obviously needed more air, hula-hooping, and running through the trees, chasing down the pixies that came much too close to her house. If there was one thing she hated, it was those blasted creatures. They always tried to cause trouble and make noise when her mother was sleeping, and so it was Marceline's personal mission to keep them away from the house. Besides, if she didn't run them away her father would suck out their souls and leave their corpses wherever they fell to rot. Marceline couldn't stand seeing dazed and dying pixies walking around her house. They were disgusting.
As soon as Marceline developed a routine in her rather mundane life, it was shattered.
"Marceline," Martin said as he watched her kick a ball against a nearby tree from the porch on a hot afternoon. He had been sitting on the steps for well over an hour, and Marceline did her best to ignore him because he looked incredibly stressed and she didn't want to be a bother. She had to try her hardest to not look too pleased when he addressed her. "Come talk to your mother. She wants to see you."
She gasped, the ball bouncing off of the tree and rolling back towards her, forgotten. Having been craving attention from her mother, because she was not allowed to see her due to her illness, Marceline ran right past her father and into the house, where she made a beeline to her parent's bedroom. With the enthusiasm of any happy-go-lucky child, Marceline jumped right onto the bed, only settling down once her knees touched the side of her mother's leg. "Daddy said you wanted to see me, mama?" It was questioning, in the case that her father was playing some cruel, sick joke on her. He was known for his weird sense of humor, at least before her mother got sick.
"I have something for you," her mother said as she smiled brightly, reminding little Marceline of a time not too long ago where she was healthy and her family was happier. After a long moment, the woman pulled out a stuffed animal that looked like some strange hybrid cross between a bear and a monkey. It was made of several pieces of different colored material because simple things such as fabric were becoming difficult to come by, with shops hoarding them and selling them for absurd prices merely because they could and because there was nothing anyone could do to stop them.
And yet, despite his mismatched colors and his button eyeballs being two very different sizes, Marceline gasped. "Is this for me?" She asked, torn between staring at the bear or her mother.
Her mother nodded, holding the bear out to the little girl, who immediately clutched it to her chest once it was in her hands. Marceline's mother struggled to sit up, but once she had she wrapped her arms around her daughter. "It's so you'll never have to be alone, my love." She placed a kiss on Marceline's head, and the little girl beamed. "What will you call him?"
It didn't take long for the little girl to choose a name. "Hambo! I'll call him Hambo."
"That's a great name." Her mother said as she glanced over at Martin, who had been lingering in the doorway since Marceline settled down on the bed. "I love you, Marceline. Remember that. Now, go have fun with Hambo. Tell me about your adventures later."
"I will!" Marceline threw her arms around her mother, giving her one last tight hug before running off, turning sideways so she could scoot past her father at the doorway. "Come on Hambo! Those pixies should be coming back now. They always come out at this time. They're pretty stupid, you know?"
Her mother drifted off to sleep at the sound of her daughter talking animatedly to the stuffed animal. Martin sat at the end of the bed and watched her for the longest time before he even thought about adjusting his position so his neck was no longer craned.
Marceline clutched Hambo's arm tightly as she jumped from tree limb to tree limb, showing him all the places where an important event occurred. "Right here is where I punched my first pixie in the face. He tried to bite me after he scratched me." As she pointed out the long, thin scar where the little bugger had scratched her was when she saw something moving in the corner of her eye. Someone was actually walking into the forest. Perhaps he heard the rumors and thought he was strong enough to take a stand against her father? For a moment, she wondered if she should warn the stranger. She could be creepy if she wanted to, with her blue skin and unnaturally sharp teeth.
Right when she was about to jump down, she caught sight of his face… if it could even be called a face. It was Death.
Death was a good friend of her father's (although he cheated Death to gain his "deathless" status) but the man always gave her the creeps. It was hard to stop staring at his empty eye sockets, and it was even harder to discern whether or not he was looking at her or at, say, the very expensive vase in the hallway.
He was heading towards her house and she followed him as quietly as she could, worried that he was going to try to hurt her mother or her father. She was pleased to see that her father was standing right outside of the house, as though he were standing guard.
"Martin," Death said in greeting, dipping his hat. "You know what I'm here for." Martin said nothing as he looked past Death and into the trees. "I'm sorry, my friend. I cannot change the rules."
"I know." Martin turned on his heel, hesitating before entering the house.
Several minutes passed before Marceline found the will to move. Suddenly very frightened, she jumped to the ground with an oomph before she dusted herself—and Hambo—off. Although she opened the front door slowly, as to not alert either of the men of her presence, it ended up squeaking loudly (of course it would happen that way; everything she tried to do quietly always ended up being very, very loud). Once inside, she tip-toed her way through, her free hand sliding against the wall as she made her way into her parent's bedroom. Death stood by her mother, with his hand hovering over her face. On the other side, her father was on his knees leaning against the bed, holding one of her hands with both of his. Her mother was still as stone.
Seeing her father's shoulders shake but unable to see his face made Marceline freeze in her tracks. With wide eyes, she whispered, "daddy, what's wrong with mama?" He didn't answer her, and so she forced herself to take a few more steps into the room. "Daddy?"
Although the skeleton looked at her, her father did not move. Trembling, she continued to inch closer to him. Upon seeing her father crying silently, tears began to well up in her eyes. "What's wrong with mama?" She repeated, this time looking up at Death for some sort of validation that everything was going to be alright.
He gave her no comfort. "I'm sorry, kid." He whispered before heading towards the door. "Martin, take care." Without another glance back, he left the house for good.
Marceline stood there with her father for a few minutes before the man finally regained his composure, although his face was stained with tears and his eyes were red. "She's gone, Marceline." He muttered with a shaky voice. When Marceline dropped Hambo and finally burst into tears, Martin was not sure what to do. He was not a man people went to for emotional comfort, considering his position in the world. He may have bounced Marceline on his knees and told her stories for all of her young life, but when it came to comfort the little girl always went to her mother. It was the way things worked for them. He turned slightly, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her and bringing her head against his chest as he stared off into the distance.
Trying to calm Marceline down and fight back his own tears at the same time, Martin did the only thing he could think of. "Here comes the sun," he sang as his head ducked down and his grip on Marceline tightened. "And I say it's alright."
It was the last time Marceline saw him for the rest of the year.
A/N: This concludes the first chapter, guys! Although this doesn't follow any sort of absolute defined plot, the chapters will be written in order according to Marceline's age. Due to the ideas I have in regards to the upcoming chapters, this story might even be written in arcs. The updating might be erratic, because I'm a student and I am nearly always busy but I'm determined to write at least a chapter a week.
I do listen to the readers, so please drop a review and tell me what can be improved upon/what you hope to see/anything at all!
The rating might be bumped up due to violence I'm planning on having in a future chapter, but I don't think it's anything too serious.
My final note will be on romance. There will definitely be some romance in the form of Marceline's past boyfriend(s). I will tentatively say there is no pairing, although depending on how the story progresses there might be some Finnceline. I just wanted to leave that option open for me.
Thanks for reading!