Around Marceline the buildings were crumbled. Burning.
There wasn't a clear path, a standing building. Everywhere was burning and dull.
Snow of ashes fell around her shoulders, speckling her black hair with white dust.
The cries of the city folk had become merely an anthem to the dull and burning streets that she had once played along.
Before the bombs.
Close to her chest she held her bear, Hambo. Ever since Simon left Hambo was her only friend. He was old now, with only one button eye and a torn leg.
His pinkish colour had faded now to a dull gray, but she loved him more then anything, he was all she had.
Skimming her hands along the cracked shells of the torn buildings she remembered how things, not even before the war, just before Simon had to leave. He said things, did things, that scared and confused the small girl.
She had never had her father with her, not during the war anyway. He was to busy in the night-o-sphere, keeping control of the growing demons, the fears of the once living souls on earth.
Simon had been there as she cried in the ally, confused by the screams, confronted by the flames.
He had wrapped her in his coat and sat her on his hip where the crown dangled ominously.
Simon sat in an old, and rat infested building that he remembered from before the war, it use to be a small 50's style diner, with the red checked floor and matching booths. Now covered in ash, omitting a deadly sent.
He could feel himself slipping beyond himself more these days. It was the crown.
The snow would whisper to him, the secrets of the ice creeping up his spine. He knew it would take him, engulf him with the power, but he also knew that it was his only chance of survival, and Marceline needed him, she was only a little girl and, although he couldn't be with her now, he knew that she needed him, for a dying world is too cold for a child to breath.
He twisted the photo of Marceline between his fingers, she was like the daughter he would never have.
Not after his darling betty left him. He couldn't remember why, it was the crown, the voices were all inside his head, but that changed nothing. He was loosing himself.
He never wanted this, but he didn't know how it could stop. He only wanted to live, to save her, his betty, and now Marceline.
He took a pen from his twisted belt and began to write;
Marceline, is it just you and me in the wreckage of the world? That must be so confusing for a little girl, and I know your going to need me here with you, but I'm loosing myself and I'm afraid your going to loose me too.
This magic keeps me alive, but it's making me crazy, and I need to save you, but who's going to save me?
Please forgive me for whatever I do, when I don't remember you.
I can feel myself slipping away. I don't remember what it made me say, I do remember that I saw you frown, but I wasn't me it was the crown.
I am sorry for leaving and I'm sorry I can't stay Marceline. I will always be with you.
Simon.
Simon knew where Marceline would be, where she always was, outside the cellar door, possibly even inside the house.
He knew the house would be empty, the only remains decaying bones and rotting wood, thanks to the bombs.
The house was old and shattered, a craved in mess of what was once a glorious cottage, and there, in the living room lay Marceline, sweet and innocent.
Only ten years old.
She didn't know about the magic, she was confused and innocent, and alone.
Under her arm was the bear he gave her, now faded and broken but very much the same bear.
Silently he slipped the photograph into the collar of the bear, kissed Marceline lightly on the forehead and, on creaking floorboards, slipped from the house.
Marceline woke to the creak of the floors, at first she though rats, but then she saw him. The long white hair and ice cold, blue skin.
"Simon." She whispered tearfully.
Simon jumped slightly but he didn't move to face her, he just face the wall, quiet, as though if he stayed still enough she would re-think her sight.
"Simon?" She asked again. Her thoughts were screaming, swimming and blurring her vision.
Confused she walked up to Simon, and he swept her into a warm hug, the way he did before he left.
His touch was like ice, but she didn't mind because hers was too.
"Hello Marceline." Simon said, sitting her lightly on the splintered wooden floor.
"Where are you going?" She asked, trailing him as he walked from the cottage.
"Just for a walk Marci, I'll be back soon." He ran a cold hand through her thick black hair and smiled kindly.
"Promise?" She asked. Simon looked out at the rising sun.
"I promise you will see me again." He said. Marceline hugged him tightly again.
"Please don't go Simon!" She cried.
He crouched down in the ash of the streets to meet Marceline's eyes. Marceline was crying, she was scared and alone in this burring world.
"I will be back soon." Simon said, but something in his face, the way he turned away when he said 'soon' said otherwise.
Marceline stood silently, with warm wet tears caught by the wind brushing her face. Calling Simons name.
Crying, screaming, hoping he would turn around and sweep her into the air again.
But he didn't turn around, he just kept walking towards the burning sun until he was completely out of sight.
Simon cried, it was hard, leaving something he had truly loved.
He would be selfish if he stayed, but he felt selfish now, leaving a crying girl, pleading for his love and for his presence. His unknown dangers.
He couldn't hear her anymore, he just hoped she would read the letter and understand, and he prayed to god that she wouldn't come looking. He prayed that would never happen, because he wouldn't remember then, and who knows what he would do.
The photo in Marceline's hand was filled with confusing words in Simon's obvious hand writing.
She didn't understand what he meant, that he had to leave because of the crown.
She didn't understand anything. She was just a girl in a dead world, there was nothing left anymore.
Once she had had Simon and now she has nothing. Only her broken bear, and her only friend.