Prologue:
Day One
Words spindled through the cracks of her unconsciousness, murmurs of urgency, sirens getting softer, then the moment when it happened, where it felt like the world was tearing apart. A horrible, abrupt moment filled with raw terror and screaming agony.
Young Marceline Abadeer cried out, jolting back into her dark bedroom in a mess of barely withheld howls and trembling shoulders.
"N-No.." she whimpered, biting onto her bottom lip to keep more noise from escaping, her eyes awash with tears as she wrapped her pale arms around her stomach, as if it would keep her nightmares abay, keep her from going back to that moment.
It took what felt like several long hours before five year old Marceline thought she was brave enough to open her eyes and let go of the death grip she had around herself.
It had only been a day since she'd been allowed to go home from the hospital, and despite scrubbing herself down at least three times, she still couldn't seem to get the terrible smell of the place off of her. She supposed that's what happened when you were trapped under a coma..
How long had that'd been?
It was a couple days of physical therapy to get her body ready to function and return home, but it still felt like some fantasy, thinking it had been at least months since she'd last opened her eyes, spoken a word, or stood up and walked.
It felt fake, like she was walking a blurry picture of reality. Nothing held traction, but the doctors told her that was normal, that it was okay to feel displaced.
Thin fingers searched around the sheets, seeking something to give her a sense of comfort, and they clasped eventually around Hambo. The cottons of the familiar stuffed animal causing some of the shakey tension to leave the small girl's shoulders as she hugged the prized, beloved toy to her chest and rocked back n forth on top of the shrewn blankets.
Knowing he was still there gave her a small lump of security, so much of her once happy life was missing after all. She choked on the memories that were brought back to her. A dark reminder that yes, it was actually real and not a dream. It hurt, and the child sobbed against her stuffed animal, hissing "M-Mom…! Please..! I'm so sorry! Mom!"
The door to her room opened, and little Marceline furiously wiped her face as Hunson entered the small bedroom. His dark eyes settled on his daughter's form and a heavy sigh escaped his mouth, a testament to how much the sight brought him sadness. "Oh Marce.." he croaked, moving over to the bed, he wrapped his arms around his child
"I'm sorry.. It'll be okay sweetheart.. I-It'll be okay.." he murmured, and the small girl whimpered pitfully as she clung to his shirt, nuzzling close to his chest
"D-Daddy.." she cried "W-Why did.. was it my fault?"
She desperately wanted to know, she needed to see the reason for it all, needed to understand why this had to happen, why her mother wasn't there when she woke up.
"It'll be okay Marceline.." he repeated, before pulling back to cup her cheek, meeting her teary eyes with his own broken ones "We just have to stay strong. Be strong for me, Marceline. Daddy's little monster.." he smiled thinly, and looked off to the side before kissing her forehead. They stayed there for a little bit longer, a father holding his weeping daughter
"Get some sleep, sweetheart." His deep hollow voice echoing in the cold quiet as the last thing he said before eventually letting go of her, and ridgedly exiting the room.
Marcy trembled, wrapping the covers around herself as she softly pulled herself into a fitful sleep. He never did answer her question, and would never answer any of her other questions after.
Eventually she stopped asking.
That was day one. The first night she spent home in her own bed, and the last night she could truly remember her Father caring for her.
Now, it's 12 years later, and everything has changed.