Real talk: I would think by now everyone has realized that I really like tropes. It's not often I want to do a fic type that has been done to death, but it happens, and here we are. I originally couldn't decide which of the two I wanted the story to be about, because I had so many ideas for both. Then I decided I didn't need to pick! So here's a two-shot, which I don't think I've done before.
Eh. I don't know. Work is very chaotic right now, so I wanted something fun and light while I work on the next chapter of Opening Act. It made for a nice distraction. After this two-shot I want to explore more about the interim of what made Sociopath Bonnie into Sociopath Bonnie. Don't get me wrong, I'm loving doing these pre-Bubblines and new-relationship-Bubblines, but we need to establish some things before Opening Act's sequel (assuming people even want part 3 when the time comes).
Disclaimer: All of my stories exist within the same universe/continuity - The Symphony Universe - which exists within main canon in a "possible but not necessarily probable" manner. They're just not posted chronologically, because where's the fun in that? All stories contain at least one reference to a future story, because I roll that way. They often contain references to past stories. They also usually hint where they happen within the canon continuity. I like hints.
Content Warnings:
Mention of alcohol consumption
Do not drink identified liquids
Description of illness
Science
Lectures
She's attentive, I'll give her that.
"-and what were you thinking, Marceline?! You can't just consume something because it looks like food! What if it was poison, or infused with silver?! Did you even think about-"
Not… the best kind of attentive, but. You know. Still.
"-even paying attention? I know you're awake, Marceline. I know you can hear me-
Telepath!
"-If you continue to be obstinate-"
I don't even know what that word means.
"-how worried I was about you? I had a full day of planning to ahead of me to finish construction on the library and I come into my lab to find-"
Maybe if I ignore her she'll tire herself out and let me sleep.
"-not even upset about how off schedule I am!-"
You sound pretty upset, Bon.
"-but you were just involved in that accident when I was constructing the second floor of the northern wing and… when I found you…"
Ah, crud.
With a groan, Marceline rolled on her back, meeting the piercing green eyes of the candy golem towering over her, eyes which quickly darted away. Well, that was no good; Bonnibel only did that when she was feeling both sentimental and was highly embarrassed about it. The smartest woman alive, dead, or otherwise had never been skilled with emotions, be they her own or other's, and even the vampire had noticed that they had been especially volatile lately. At first she had attributed it to stress; her castle's construction was nearing completion, her experiments to create new life - literally a new species - were proving fruitful, and she was starting to make a name for herself. But, unlike Bonnibel, Marceline actually understood emotions and quickly picked up that there was another cause… and she had a pretty good idea as to what it was.
Which had nothing to do with why she ate whatever it was that was in the conspicuous beaker in Bonnibel's laboratory, it was just a happy coincidence.
"Come on, BonBon, I'm fine."
This was the incorrect thing to say, as made evident by the younger woman's eyes narrowing. "Oh are you." It was a statement not a question, and Marceline gulped involuntarily. It was odd, really, how a woman literally made of sugar could be so terrifying, but Bonnibel made it into an art form. "Is that your hypothesis?"
This was a trick question and Marceline knew it. How it was a trick was what she didn't know. She also didn't know what she was meant to say to it, because the musician could count the number of things that scared her on one hand, and most of that hand was Bonnibel Bubblegum. "...Yes?"
At first the younger woman said nothing, merely appraising the queen. She was snugly tucked into their bed, because the young scientist had found her unconscious on the floor of her laboratory, had a figurative heart attack, carried her up to their room, then quickly rushed back down to the laboratory to solve the mystery of what had happened. Which she found to be fairly obvious by the shattered beaker on the floor, a beaker she knew to have been filled with a particular solution. A particular red solution. A particular red solution which was now decidedly a grey puddle, next to what she assumed were the contents of Marceline's stomach. Her calming breath did not quash the budding fury as she realized what had happened, and she stormed back up to her room, ready to give Marceline a piece of her very large mind.
Of course, Marceline Abadeer couldn't even give her that, because the half-demon was still unconscious by the time she had returned. That… that butt! Part of Bonnibel was sorely tempted to wake the vampire up right then, give her a verbal tongue lashing while she was still too dazed to defend herself, and make her displeasure very apparent. Fortunately for everyone involved logic had won out, as it so often did, and she had decided that while such an action might feel good in the short term - reallygood in fact - one of them had to be better than her baser instincts.
Safely on her moral high-ground Bonnibel gave her girlfriend a sidelong glance before shifting her attention to her trio of massive bookshelves, finally filled to capacity with tomes both new and from before the bombs. If she's going to be unconscious I may as well be productive. With a resigned sigh Bonnibel lifted herself from the bed, determined to do something worthwhile until the older woman woke up. After all, with no small amount of effort the soon-to-be-royal rooms were finally complete. While physics hadn't changed and they were no less spacious they were decidedly more filled out, making it more obvious people actually lived in them. The stone floor was a deep lavender, only a few shades darker than the walls. Her desk, a soft mauve, was piled high with blueprints, with biological and anatomical diagrams for her next generation of palace guards, and notes that were little more than scrawls.
The bookshelves themselves, stuffed as they were, were mahogany, carved into a delicate floral pattern and outlined in magenta and violet. In the corner was a tacky rose-colored beanbag chair that Marceline had insisted she donate to the room. Despite the fact that she never sat. Why the pink-haired woman had agreed she didn't know, and it hurt her head to think about for too long. Something about the vampire being persuasive? Of course, said vampire was now occupying their bed. The impossibly soft bed, for candy people are largely soft and easily pliable. She was buried under at least four blankets, each various shades of pink, still dressed in her jeans and 'no smoking' t-shirt. It was a necessity, for although Marceline's nerves were bad at understanding temperature under most circumstances the exception was severe trauma. Only then did she turn vulnerable. Only then did her body realize it was actually dead. The thought of her queen being Truly Dead made Bonnibel shudder despite, or perhaps because of, her rage, and she tore her mind away from that train in favor of pulling out some random book to entertain herself while she waited to give the singer a piece of her brilliant brain.
It turned out to be an ancient, oddly well-intact book about the study of acoustics and its medical applications penned before The Great Mushroom war, and were this any other day Bonnibel would have found the knowledge within fascinating, but her mind was fixated and she knew it was almost impossible to disentangle herself from a fixation, nor would it pass of its own accord. No, the only thing she could do was see it through, and in this case it meant waiting for Marceline to wake up. With great reluctance she closed the book and set it aside with one hand, pinching the bridge of her nose with the other as she closed her eyes, trying to focus herself, decide what she was going to say in a calm and reasonable manner. As always, listing the facts proved the solution.
She had spent the better part of the day collecting regents everywhere from the Grasslands to the ocean's shore and had returned home utterly exhausted. In fact, she had had a lovely plan for the day: Categorize the regents, enjoy a cup of sweet tea, plan for tomorrow's experiments, and then end the evening with breakfast with Marceline. A perfectly adequate plan for a perfectly productive day. Absolutely ruined when she returned to her lab - her previously immaculate lab, with everything in its place - only to find her girlfriend on the floor, unconscious. Bonnibel had been petrified, only calmed by the cool logic that Marceline had to be not Truly Dead, since she wasn't a pile of ash. But then her concern mixed with anger; it hadn't taken long to figure out the cause, or to carry her to their bedroom for her to sleep off her stupidity. The more the candy scientist thought about it the more peeved she became, concentration in tatters as she drummed her fingers on her now-closed book. Even now she remained in her now grass-stained brown cargo pants and thick white sweater, it itself stained from the sea water she had been almost literally immersed in. She flung her water-tight boots to the far corner of the room, mentally rehearsing what she intended to say, do, think, feel.
And then she heard the vampire stirring, the book was flung to the side, and the haranguing began.
To Marceline's credit she took the diatribe like a champ, hiding under the blankets and looking chagrined. Okay, maybe consuming identified lab tests wasn't her brightest moment, but she was still Undead and not Truly Dead, so that had to count for something, right? Right?
"I want to be very clear, Marceline. I'm furious with you."
...Right?
With herculean effort Marceline pushed herself into a sitting position, though she dare not leave the bed, both because she was terrified of Bonnibel and because her body felt like it was weighed down with lead. In fact, it felt almost numb, and no sooner had she sat up her head rushed and her vision blurred. With a groan she accepted defeat and laid back down, promising herself it was only a temporary setback. She mumbled something, not even sure what, hoping Bonnibel didn't hear anyway.
"I'm overreacting?!"
Well, this wasn't her day. Stupid brain.
"Put yourself in my position, Marceline. What would you do if our positions were reversed?"
She had no answer. No answer except: "...You probably wouldn't have eaten the thing, so…"
It was when she went quiet that Marceline knew she was in legit trouble. It only got worse when Bonnibel's voice turned sickeningly sweet. "Marcy."
If she hadn't felt so drained the musician would have turned into a bat right then and flown away. But. "...Yes, Bon?"
"Do you understand why I'm livid?"
Marceline gulped, hiding under the blanket like the walking apocalypse she was. "...'Cause I could've gotten myself killed?"
"Oh good, so you are paying attention." And then there was the sound of shuffling, of a drawer sliding open and closed, of a chair being dragged to the bed, literally dragged, making Marceline hiss from the sound. She thought she heard a muffled apology, but that could easily have been wishful thinking. "Now then."
Feeling brave Marceline peaked from under the blankets, not liking what she was seeing at all. Bonnibel had retrieved her science notebook and quill, had an unidentifiable book in her lap, her glasses perched. The vampire gulped at the detached clinical gaze she was being fitted with. Figs, I'm a science project.
"Describe to me how you feel."
She groaned. Really, with how well she knew her girlfriend she should have seen this coming. Bonnibel could never just sit with nervous energy; she had to do something all the time at every given circumstance. In retrospect, Marceline mused, had she just taken her lecture on responsibility and Not Doing What She Did like a big girl she probably wouldn't be dealing with this now. Thanks a lot, Past Marceline. You're such a donkus. She sighed, settling back into bed, eyes sliding shut and accepting her punishment. "Heavy. Numb. My head hurts-"
"What does it feel like?"
"Uh…" Crud, she has her Science Voice on.
"Pounding? Aching?"
"More like it's trying to burst?"
The sound of scribbling filled the room, then ceased abruptly. "What else?"
"Uh… I'm tired? Like… not mentally, but physically?"
More scribbling. "Anything else?"
"I think my stomach hurts?"
"You think?"
Marceline frowned but didn't open her eyes. "Bon, I'm a vampire. I haven't been sick in hundreds of years. This is new to me. All of this is new to me." That came out more of a snap than she had meant, but her girlfriend seemed unperturbed.
"Fascinating… you can't get sick…" Marceline would never had caught that mumble without such acute hearing. It worried her; she really didn't want to be a test subject to see the upper limits of what her Undead body could take, and that was exactly like something Bonnibel would do. "Do you remember the last time you were sick?"
The fact her tone was now more curious than irate was what elicited her to respond. Well, that and the knowledge that she maybe kind of sort of did this to herself. And maybe it was kind of a jerk thing to worry Bubblegum. It was just so… easy to do. It just seemed to happen naturally.
"Marceline?"
The vampire exhaled forcefully, doing her best to dredge up some concrete memory. "I don't know, Bon. I know I was really sick all the time when I was a kid…" She trailed off, discouraged for the moment, before a memory did present itself. "Oh, I've gone one! When I was like… 7? I don't know, time isn't real. But when I was still living with Simon I remember I got really sick one time and we went on this wild journey to find some chicken soup. He thought it was like a cure-all, and I dunno… I was a kid, it made sense. I kind of remember some Oozers and I'm pretty sure there were clams. It's really weird." A half-shrug. "I might have imagined it by then, but I remember Simon finally finding a can, but he couldn't get it open…" Her eyes closed as she tried to clarify the memory, tried to bring it into focus, the sound of Bonnibel's writing keeping tempo with her thoughts. "I don't really remember a lot of it, but I remember this huge pink blob was there? Like… everywhere." The scribbling stopped, not that she noticed. "I might've imagined it by then, but I'm pretty sure it was there…" And then the memory slipped away and she sighed, a pounding headache taking its place. "I dunno, Bon. I don't think I got sick after that." Silence. "Bon?" She creaked an eye open, suddenly nervous. It was never good when Bonnibel suddenly stopped talking after being on a science-experiment roll.
She found her girlfriend watching her intently, and not with a clinical gaze. Instead she looked thoughtful, though over what Marceline could only imagine; it was virtually impossible to ever guess what Bonnibel was thinking, a side effect from being the most brilliant mind in Ooo. But the sudden disposition change still caused the half-demon to squirm, especially given her current position of 'in trouble'. "Uh… Bon? You alright?"
That broke the young scientist's focus and she blinked, flushing slightly from allowing her near-trance to happen in the first place. "Oh! My pardon."
"Your what?," Marceline smirked, despite herself. Being in trouble rarely deterred her for long.
Bonnibel huffed. Well, at least she's well enough to be sarcastic. That's a positive, I suppose. "You know my what, you butt."
Marceline snickered; there was just something so funny about seeing such a composed woman lose huff and puff from two little words. "So, we good here?"
Wrong thing to say. Very wrong. Bonnibel narrowed her eyes. "No, Marceline, we must certainly are not 'good here'," emphasizing her disdain with finger quotes, quill still clutched in her hand. "I haven't finished collecting the necessary information to analyze why exactly the substance in the beaker not only had an effect on you, but a profound one at that."
A black eyebrow rose. "It sounds more like you just want to throw a lot of questions at me and make me jump through hoops to make a point."
"Science can do two things at once. Is there anything else unusual you're experiencing?"
"Uh… my skin is sensitive? And not in the good way." A frown, accompanied by yet more scribbling. Dude, how many pages is she writing?
"Can you use your powers?"
"Which ones?," Marceline drolled.
Wrong question. Wrong, because Bonnibel smirked. "Well, we better check all of them, just to be safe. Effective experimentation requires a good scientist be thorough." The groan of her vampire's exasperation was music to her ears. "But because you're being such a good little patient slash test subject I will not ask you to raise the dead." As she returned to her notes she ignored the soft, sarcastic 'hooray' originating from the bed. "Can you shapeshift?"
"Bon, I can barely lift my arms."
"So lift a different body part." When she received no response she glanced up, meeting the very displeased gaze of her girlfriend. "What? You did this to yourself! I'm just trying to keep you safe!" And then she fell silent, the admission causing her to flush and return to her work.
Marceline blinked at the odd outburst. "...What?"
Bonnibel sighed, laying her quill on the paper, closing her eyes from the frustration of it all. For such an insightful woman you can be considerably dense at times. "Marceline, please consider the circumstances from my perspective. I came home after being gone for a full day, and when I arrived I found you passed out, having consumed an experiment for reasons unknown that I'm sure have something to do with sheer contempt for your own immortality."
She wasn't wrong, but still. "Bon, I-"
"No. You made me worry, and now you are going to listen."
Fair enough, I guess- wait, worry?
"I had no idea how long you had been unconscious for, or what exactly had happened. Yes, you were still with me or you would be a pile of ash but that's hardly a comfort when I know nothing else. Were you comatose? In pain? Stuck halfway between Undeath and True Death? Napping to sleep off the effects? I didn't know, and I still don't know! You're not even alive and my experiment, which I had devised for an independent purpose, was still able to incapacitate you! Do you understand the severity of that situation? What if someone got a hold of my formula and chose to weaponize it? What if I had accidentally discovered some fifth way of killing a vampire, independent from silver, a stake, decapitation, or the sun? For all intents and purposes you are a walking corpse, and logically nothing you consume should be able to hurt you, yet here we are! There could be side effects I'm not seeing, long-term effects I cannot predict!" By now her knuckles were turning white from the force of her grip on her notebook, but it wasn't true anger she was using to glare at her girlfriend. It was anxiety.
"Hey…," Marceline began gently. "Come here, BonBon." With great effort she patted the side of the bed, inviting her to join her on the other side of the looking glass. When she didn't move, still obviously conflicted, the half-demon smiled. "Please?" That small bit of humility did it, and with a small huff and great reluctance Bonnibel rose from her chair and joined the queen in bed, laying atop the covers. At least, until Marceline tried to sit up to meet her. Then Bonnibel set aside her notebook and laid down, letting strong, cool arms wrap around her.
"...You scared me, Marcy," she whispered. In place of her anger there was only fear now, and it stabbed at the vampire. "You often talk of how afraid you are that something will happen to me, and how you regard immortality as a curse. Do you not understand that my worst nightmare is eternity without you? Do you have any sense how much it hurts to see you disregard your own safety on my behalf, or without any consideration that you could Truly Die from your own antics? Do you ever think about the consequences of your actions?"
Aw, figs. Now her sarcastic humor was gone and the older woman held her love closer. Which was quite a feat, given that she hadn't been lying about barely being able to move. Normally that final question would seem like permission for her to be further sarcastic, but sometimes context is everything. Now was such a time. "I'll be honest, Bon… I've never really thought of it like that." Perhaps it was the sincerity in her voice, but this time Bonnibel chose to listen, rather than continue her lecture. At least, for now. "I'll admit… I guess I don't really think about what it's gotta be like for you. I think a lot about keeping you safe since you might be effectively immortal, but you could still die from like being stabbed or something. I can't, so it's just… not a thing to me?"
"But it could still happen," the candy golem whispered, mind filled with memories of the many, many times Marceline had risked True Death without even thinking about it. Such as every day she chose to be diurnal so that she could share the day with her, rather than keep to the safety of the night sky. Knowing that if her parasol blew away, that if she lost the shade, that if her hat and gloves were gone she would-
"...Yeah. It could still happen." The silence the pair fell into was tense and uncomfortable. "...Is that really your worst nightmare, or were you just mad mad?"
"Both." No hesitation, no room for argument. "I'm still mondo angry at you, Marceline. You were selfish." She buried her head in her chest, as if muffling the words would muffle the meaning. It was just so hard to let her heartguts be known, but this was something she needed to say, something Marceline needed to hear. "You just wing it and always think it'll work out for you. What if it doesn't and I'm left alone again? What if I spend the rest of forever just remembering what we had and wondering…" She trailed off, hand gripping the older woman's arm. "Please, don't make me pick out an urn for you, Marceline," she whispered, voice uncharacteristically heavy.
Now Marceline's humor was forgotten, the heartbreak in her girlfriend's voice overriding her typically irreverent nature. She held the scientist as tightly as she could, let her head nestle in the crook of her neck. It was an odd thought, really, for Bonnibel to be so worried about her, and she wanted to be able to laugh it off, turn it into a joke to ease the tension, but even she knew when doing that would be messed up and totes inappropes. Like right now, because it was exceedingly rare for Bonnibel to show not only this kind of vulnerability but this amount of it. "I'm sorry, Bon. I really am. I guess I just never really thought it would hurt you this much if I bit it, you know?"
"No. I don't know." Her voice was harder now, but no less filled with emotion.
Marceline winced. "I just never really think of you as needing me."
"Of course I need you, you idiot," she mumbled. "You're my best friend." There were three little words that typically followed that statement, but they often wandered off and went missing. Not that it mattered, really. Marceline knew it was true all the same, even if Bonnibel was afraid to say it, afraid to say them, as if the sentiment itself could destroy her. This wasn't helping ease that fear, though now their silence was a hair less tense.
"I'm sorry, Bonnibel," she repeated.
She sighed, but didn't pull away. "Why did you eat what was in the beaker, Marceline?"
"...I was hungry?"
"You know I keep apples in the kitchen, and the rose garden-"
"Yeah, but… sometimes you want a little variety in your life. And whatever the stuff was looked awesome! Tasted nice, too."
Unseen by Marceline, because she was unwilling to leave the embrace, Bonnibel frowned. "So you ate an unknown substance because you were feeling peckish, when you know that I keep often dangerous chemicals in my laboratory? It could have been poison, or acid!"
"Yeah… but odds were good that it was also harmless and tasty. You do a lot with making your candy peeps, so…," she trailed off as the woman in her arms pulled away, glare back in full force. She gulped.
"How do you feel." No one could make a question feel like an accusation quite like Bonnibel Bubblegum could.
Marceline sighed. "Still the same. Nothing's better. Just heavy, my skin is sensitive, my head hurts, and I think my stomach does too? It's hard to move and I'm just… tired. It's like I'm aware of every single bone in my body."
"Mm." Now she was pulling away and Marceline was left missing the warmth she provided. "It's interesting that you're this vulnerable." That one word caused the vampire to tense; 'vulnerable' was just a nice way of saying 'helpless', and she would never, ever again-
"Shh…" Apparently her seething had been visible, because now there was a pink hand running its fingers through her hair before settling a calming pressure on the back of her neck, previous animosity either forgotten or put on pause. The vampire hated how well that stupid simple gesture worked. "I'm beginning to think the experimental solution isn't in of itself causing this reaction. It may be that it's because you're not used to being sick, and so your body is exacerbating the symptoms."
Against her will garnet eyes slid shut. "I get hurt and junk all the time," she mumbled.
"True," she agreed. "You're quite accustomed to external threats, such as crushing or evisceration. This is a different type of injury, one you're not accustomed to, and so I hypothesize that your body is, for lack of better term, going haywire in trying to find a way to fix the problem. Your healing isn't an automatic panacea, and we both know it. You have to know how something works to fix it, and I never saw fit to make sure you learned how to cleanse your body of pathogens or other foreign agents that could cause you distress."
"You say that like you're my keeper or something," she muttered.
"Aren't I?"
Even with her eyes closed Marceline could see the know-it-all smirk. At least she's starting to calm down. "...Shut up." Maybe if she didn't look at the truth it would go away.
"Mmhm." She smirked, rising from the bed. She was right and evidently they both knew it. "Though how interesting it is that you should suffer this type of reaction when I've seen you consume any number of questionable sources of red."
Though her eyes remained shut Marceline rolled onto her back, then her side once more to face the outer perimeter. Only then did she open them. "Yeah, speaking of… what was in it?"
Now her smirk was almost evil, as if she had been waiting for this. Perhaps she had. After all, nothing cheered Bonnibel up more than lecturing about science. "I'm so glad you asked, Marceline." Oh, this is gonna suck. She's got her 'you fell into a trap' face on. "Concentrated cherry syrup liqueur infused with generous amounts of phosphoric acid and fluoride. I had been developing it as a potential nutrient supply for my candy people creations, in order to prevent their natural decay and preserve their structural integrity, thus increasing their lifespans and helping to cope against the natural elements, such as rain." Marceline stared blankly, and that just made it more delicious.
"Uh… Bon? Hate to break this to you, but I've drank before, so-"
"Oh, I'm not done." Her self-satisfied smirk reminded Marceline of a shark she once met. "Do you know what alcohol, phosphoric acid, and fluoride have in common?" There's a rhetorical question if there ever was one. "They're all magnesium antagonists."
"...Uh.."
"Ah, I can see you're confused. Allow me to explain."
Figs.
"You see, Marceline, when a chemical or element acts as an antagonist it means that it works against another chemical or element, and when there is enough of one and not enough of the other it purges it. You were sick in my laboratory before I found you, correct?"
"Uh…"
"You see, Marcy." The sickeningly sweet tone had returned.
Uh oh.
"Some of the most common symptoms of a prolonged magnesium deficiency are fatigue, headaches, muscle weakness, nausea… are you noticing a theme here?" She sighed the 'you're in trouble' sigh and Marceline returned to her idea of turning into a bat and fleeing. "Vampires, by rule, drink blood. It's how they get their nutrients. You are a vampire. A vegetarian vampire, but a vampire all the same. You subsist on the color red by choice, as you refuse to risk harming others. In order to absorb the appropriate amount and types of nutrients you need to consume more red than a typical vampire would consume blood, and your diet needs to include red from appropriate sources."
"Uh…"
"Now, magnesium doesn't show up much in natural food sources that are also red, limiting your options. For you to be this deficient suggests to me you haven't been eating properly in quite some time. Is this true?" It was less of a question and more of an 'if you tell me the truth I'll go easier on you.'
Marceline gulped, unsure as to whether or not Angry Lecture Bonnie was any better than Hurt and Betrayed Bonnie. After several long seconds that felt like several long years she decided that yes, she was, and to celebrate this decision she turned not into a bat, as she imagined Bonnibel had been anticipating, but a rat with thick, plush, black fur, teeny grey claws, a long grey tail, long sensitive whiskers, and four garnet eyes. No sooner had she dived under the blankets her plans for escape were thwarted when she felt a hard grab her from above the covers, grip strong enough to keep her from wiggling. Not that this grip needed to be hard; shape-shifting had taken the fight out of her, and by the time she was maneuvered out of the blankets Bonnibel's smirk said it all.
"...You set me up."
"I did, yes. Now tell me the truth." Now her voice was softer. Still firm, but less accusatory. Now she wanted answers more than she wanted to feel her own righteous fury. She sat on the bed, cupping the rat, knowing she wouldn't run now, even if she could.
Marceline turned away. "...S'hard."
"What is?"
"...Keeping track of what I should eat…"
When she trailed off, Bonnibel smiled softly, finishing for her. "When every instinct in you says to drink blood?"
Now the rat did react, curling into a tight ball. "I don't drink blood."
For a brief moment Bonnibel felt a pang of guilt at having gone off on her twice now, for having assumed that Marceline was merely being incorrigible without fully investigating why before jumping to such an accusatory lecture. In truth, she had expected the cause to be something along the lines of her girlfriend simply partying too much to take care of herself properly, and she hadn't considered the possibility that this was a symptom of a greater problem. Sorry, Marcy.
"I know, Marceline. I can't imagine what it must be like to fight against that urge every day. We both have partially restricted diets, but I can largely eat whatever I want so long as there is copious amounts of sugar involved." Her smile was more profound now as she considered the greater implications of that statement. "I never considered how involved you are with that before now, given that one of my numerous talents is not cooking food. I had always left that part to you." With a smile she nuzzled the top of the rat's tiny head with her cheek. "You do make the best spaghetti after all. And tea. Especially for someone who can eat neither." A tiny huff, but she still leaned into the affection. "But my dietary restrictions don't involve hurting others, and I rarely appreciate your level of restraint." The rat was placed in her lap, where it remained curled up. At least, until a gentle hand began to rub its belly. Then Marceline rolled over, resuming her normal form, head still in her girlfriend's lap as she enjoyed the physical attention. Even if it did make her drowsy. Even if she was only now realizing that that was the point.
"I do have an idea, though." A pointed grey ear twitch, the only sign the vampire was awake and listening. "You enjoy apples quite a bit, don't you?"
Marceline nodded, mumbling a soft, "please don't tell me you're gonna science a new type of apple."
It was a fair accusation, so Bonnibel only laughed softly. "No, silly. Sometimes nature has solved the problem for us. You enjoy fruit, and luckily enough… there are lots of red fruits that have considerable amounts of magnesium naturally occurring. You'll still need to eat more, and this doesn't replace a varied diet, but it should help offset this deficiency." Which I should have predicted-
"It's not your fault, Bon," she mumbled, not wanting to move at all. She was just so comfortable. Not too comfortable to predict that Bonnibel would swiftly move into taking responsibility for their current situations. It was a side effect of her knowing herself brilliant, but the scientist often put the burden on herself to predict when things will go wrong, even if doing so was impossible.
Bonnibel sighed, but it wasn't one of frustration, or have sadness. It was an appreciative sigh, an affectionate one, and a reminder of the reason why she was so terrified of losing Marceline. "No, it's no one's fault. But… you're the best part of my life, and if I can solve your problems I'm going to do so. And I am sorry I exploded at you," she whispered sheepishly.
Marceline smirked, still not moving. "S'okay, you dork. I know lecturing is how you show affection. Go ahead, nerd your solution at me."
Bonnibel rolled her eyes. "It's simple. We're going to plant some fruit bushes."
The older woman cracked an eye open. "...What?"
"Oh yes," she nodded. "Remember my hypothesis? Well, we can plant a strawberry and raspberry garden around your home and my cabin. Those fruits are particularly high in magnesium. Of course, we'll have to go through the rest of your diet to see what you might be deficient in…" She tapped her chin and the musician raised an eyebrow.
"Not that I'm against this plan, cause strawberries rock… but I'm half-demon, Bon. Doesn't that, you know… make stuff harder, since it's not like I work like I would if I were human? Or-"
If anything, this brightened the candy golem's expression. "Oh! You're right! I'll need to do a full analysis of your physiology if I'm going to properly assess what an appropriate diet and nutritional intake for you would be!"
"...So when you say you'll 'need' to-"
"Oh yes. This is a need, Marceline. I refuse to allow you to get sick like this again. And who else would ever get to experience such a discovery! You're one of a kind, Marcy, and I want to know more about you." It was hard to argue with the brightness in her eyes, the elation in her voice at having a new project. And, really, Marceline didn't mind being a project; Bonnibel had done similar things before and had always treated her well, never giving any implication that she was just an experiment, or only a point of discovery, a means to an end. And, really, it was perhaps the greatest compliment Bonnibel could ever give: being interesting enough for her to want to devote her time, energy, and giant brain to. It made Marceline laugh sometimes, this version of romanticism that her girlfriend possessed that she imagined few would appreciate, maybe even be insulted by.
But that's just the way she was. She was over a hundred years old, but Bonnibel had never stopped asking 'why?'. She had never outgrown her desire to know and discover, she had only learned the ins and outs of making it happen. Marceline knew that Bonnibel loved her as much as she could love anyone, whatever that emotion meant for her. She had never feared the musician, even when she personally witnessed the atrocities she was capable of. Bonnibel trusted her, and Marceline was, perhaps, the only person in the world who could say that. Yes, she was egotistical and controlling, sometimes focusing on her own projects to the point of being neglectful, but she had always been there when the vampire had really needed her. The two hadn't started their time together as friends, and maybe their prank war had gotten a little out of hand when they were younger, but sometimes science was an art, and Bonnibel was as much an artist as the half-demon.
Marceline laughed softly, affectionately. She settled under the blankets, gently tugging a pink wrist to prevent Bonnibel from leaving. "Chill, nerd alert. Come cuddle with me and let me sleep first, alright? The you can stick things on me or in me or whatevs you're planning."
As her eyes closed she heard a sound of ponderful before she hard the ruffle of stained and spoiled clothes being shed, the bed sink under another's weight, and a familiar warmth pull her into an embrace. "Yes," she heard a soft whisper. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Marcy." Why wouldn't it be? She needed the comfort just as much as her girlfriend, and Marceline knew it. Knew it, but didn't draw attention to it. With a smile she tucked the blankets around the older woman, feeling cool breath against her chest.
"Mm… and Bon?"
"Yes?" Now the blankets were pulled around them, causing one to yawn, followed by the other.
"You're one of a kind, too. Don't change." And then she was asleep, snug in her girlfriend's arms, trusting her to keep her safe in her vulnerable state. Even if the assertion had been only mumbled it still caused Bonnibel to blush. Even now, after decades of friendship, she wasn't used to this type of affection, and she wanted nothing more than to preserve it. Of course, things changed all the time, in little ways, including people, but she knew what Marceline was really saying, and it was a promise to be by her side, to support and love and her no matter what she did, so long as she was still her. And so Bonnibel sighed her own happy sigh, knowing she was with the one person who she would ever show her own vulnerability to, the only person she knew she could find comfort it without the risk of duplicity or back-stabbing, because it was simply not in Marceline's nature. She was genuine and supportive, and despite all of the horrors of her past she wanted nothing more than to protect that which she loved. Which, apparently, included Bonnibel. But now it was time for Bonnibel to protect her, to keep her comfortable and safe as she healed.
As her girlfriend slept Bonnibel stayed awake, stroking her long onyx hair, mind racing as she considered not only the course of events of the day, but their emotional implications as well. Not too long ago Marceline had been willing to sacrifice herself by pushing her out of the way of the falling debris of a controlled implosion that was anything but. She hadn't even thought about it; Bonnibel had been her only consideration. Not many could say that when their girlfriend was tested they would put her first, especially when it was a matter of life and True Death. Today? Today Bonnibel had realized how sincerely attached she was to the vampire, how losing her was in fact her worst nightmare. Even now the thought made her tense, tightening he embrace. It was decided. Tomorrow, or perhaps the day after, she resolved ask Marceline to move in with her, because physics had taught her that time was an artificial construct, and so she needed to stop assuming that they had forever together to work things out. It was time to be proactive.
With that in mind, and with the resolve to be the family Marceline deserved, just as Marceline was the family she had always never known she needed, Bonnibel lifted herself just enough to place her lips against the sensitive grey ear and whispered three little words.