Wreckage of the World

Click.

The wheels started turning, the black tape starting to unroll. The first few images were blurry, unfocused. The cacophony of sounds were garbled, almost grating to the ears.

"Is this thing on?"

She held her breath at the sound of the voice.

His face came to view, flickering in and out of the screen. Pale blue skin and bushy white beard. Those trademark round glasses sitting on the bridge of his elongated nose.

Her hands curl into a pair of tremulous balls, nails digging into her flesh. "C'mon," She hissed at the screen, deeply knitted frown creasing her own pale undead blue-grey skin. Why wouldn't this tape work when she needed it to? A fist reached out to pound repeatedly on the tape player in exasperation. She needed to know if this was what she had been seeking.

"Hello, can you hear me?"

Finally, the visage on the screen came into focus. "Yes! About time!" She leaned forward, large black eyes eagerly drinking the image that seemed like a distant dream. The young man stared back at her. Just as she had remembered him. Technology was amazing. It was little wonder why PB loved to meddle with the gizmos and gadgets in her free time. Like a distant dream finally brought to life. She almost wanted to reach out to pinch the cool cheeks and giggled at her own impulse. The vampire did dart a quick glance around, reassuring herself that she was the only one in the basement.

"Yes, I can hear you Simon," She giggled at his name, long lanky arm reaching for the screen. Simon, Simon, her savior, her father, her best friend. The Simon she knew and loved. Love. She never stopped loving.

As soon as her fingertips came into contact with the cold surface of the television screen, she paused. She hesitated yet drew her face closer to the screen. Had he always been like this? Why hadn't she remember him having such huge eyebags that the new tint of his skin could not hide? Had his beard always been so rough, tugging at his sunken cheeks as if each strands were anchors of gravity? Why hadn't she recalled those fine lines around his eyes or the grooves carved into his forehead even when he wasn't frowning? Were they scars upon his wintry terrain, one that her fingers prided themselves in knowing so well? She was tracing the fine lines that contoured the haggard looking male on the screen before her now.

This could not have been Simon.

"I don't know who else to turn to," he continued.

Both of her hands were repeatedly brushing against the screen, desperate to reach through the glass to caress the face. Maybe if she could really touch it, she would be able to prove that it wasn't him. If she could just tangle her fingers in his growing beard and tickle his chin. Run her palms across his cheeks as she pulled them back playfully to create faces while he valiantly played along by sticking his tongue out or rolling his eyes. Yet the knotted feeling in her stomach would not dissolve of its own volition. This imposter in the video had everything right, even down to the minutest details. The way the nose ended in a sharp, pointed tip like an accusing finger pointing at her. The tone of the voice and the way he bit into his words as he pronounced them. The vein-like cracks in the left blue lens. But whose world weary eyes peered from behind those glasses? Simon had gone crazy, submitted his sanity to the crown. She could not deny either of those facts. But this. This… The despondent soul of a lonely man continued to stare back at her. He let slip a sigh that only the truly downtrodden could understand.

This was not be Simon.

"The only other being with me is the child called Marceline. We've been together for 6 months now. But time… What is time but a useless construct in a world that has no one?"

She withdrew her hands back from the screen, biting on her lower lip.

Six months.

Was he this ancient six months after meeting her? Maybe if it had been a few years after, she would have believed him. But six months in? So soon? Hadn't he been… Younger? More optimistic and upbeat? Instead, the male before looked like he had been whipped into submission, his rough face groveled into the dirt till the soil polluted every open pore on his skin. If he hadn't been breathing so audibly, she might have mistaken him to have just faded between the pauses. This lethargic eidolon had no energy to live, let alone make a tape diary.

"No one."

The eternal teenager sat very still now in the cold basement filled with mountains of relics from a past that existed only in lingering dreams. Simon stared back into the camera, at an utter loss for words. The silence was palpable as the tension between Simon and her grew. The strain between past and present was now permeating this cold cavern, filling her lungs with every foggy breath she took. For the longest time, Simon simply stared at the camera, as if he was judging her the same way she judged him. The light from the screen illuminated the basement, causing her skin to glow as it bouncing off the smooth surfaces of the nearby walls and floor, fencing off the darkness that wanted to consume the troubled teenager. It was he who broke his silence first.

"I don't know how long anything will last. How long I can last. I find myself slipping away."

She drew her knees to her chest before resting her chin on her knees, arms wrapped around her long legs. A loose ebony strand of hair was brushed aside as the enraptured teenager listened to what her best friend had to say. Was this the tape she was searching for? The last tape he recorded right before he chose to leave her that winter? The one that was addressed to her and yet she was denied access to?

"I fear the end for me. For Marceline." A soft chuckle. "Or perhaps time has ceased to exist and we are in an infinite loop. To be replayed over and over."

Simon brought a hand up, examining it for a moment. She found herself following his gaze, studying the hand as he turned it about almost in disbelief. "Then we stay here forever. There is no end to fear of! I fear nothing!" A sudden sharp cackle escaped the chapped lips and Simon was quick to clasp a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the surging madness. Simon's head whipped about as he looked at something in the distance before heaving a sigh of relief.

"Good, she's still asleep."

His shoulders sagged forward, burdened by the silence that had returned once more. Was Simon this… Tired? Why hadn't she remembered him looking this defeated, even when his sanity was consumed by the crown?

"I… I can't do it anymore." His voice started to crack as his eyes grew red and moist. "How long can I keep pretending this apocalypse is an adventure? A dream world that will end one day when she wakes up? I doubt I can ever find a solution to this madness other than death. If I can end it all right now, for both of us-"

The image froze the moment her finger pressed down on the pause button. Simon the human was an optimistic soul with a tender, gentle heart that sought to protect her from even the smallest of insects. The kind, loving guardian of her distant childhood. This man who claimed to be Simon was a pessimist. A shadow of a defeated man who was contemplating death. For both of them. Her breath was caught in her throat, almost strangling her. If she had any human blood pumping through her veins right now, they would have frozen over the way merciless blizzards blanketed everything in a deathly white. This Simon, no, this monster, was bent on killing her. Simon, sweet Simon, had wanted to kill both of them while she slumbered away. Her brows came together in a frown that belied her lack of and refusal to comprehend the words. And she had thought that Simon's biggest betrayal was leaving her when she needed him the most. Leaving on the sleigh she had so carefully prepared for him. Marceline sat in the deafening silence, unable to think. This was not what she was expecting when she wanted to find the last video diary. Her world had come to a crushing end when he became nothing more but a retreating figure in the distance, blurred by her tears. Her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Despite having that image ingrained in her mind, marking the end of her innocence, she had still yearned for and loved him. Embarked on a vampire hunt so she could somehow, foolishly attempted to protect him. If she could prove that she could take care of herself… That she was stronger and more independent, and then maybe Simon would come back. She would be by his side, both of them gallivanting through the wreckage of the world once again. She would learn later on that it had been a futile dream. He had become Ice King. That had been another blow to her already fragile self but she willed herself to believe that she had somehow contributed to his survival by eliminating the vampires. She had somehow repaid her debt towards him.

But this.

This damning evidence she could not deny or fantasize about.

It stung when she finally forced down the forming lump in her throat and inhaled the biting cold air. Betrayal couldn't even describe it. In her fetal position, the proud Marceline could feel all her strength and confidence exiting her body. No, perhaps they too were just another feigned fantasy. From her very birth, she had been a failure. A burden to everyone. Even to Simon. The revelation was forced upon her like someone trying to cram something down an already clogged pipe. Her sniffle couldn't even penetrate the silence that smothered her. As Marceline sat there, rocking her body slightly, all her thoughts fled and if any remained, they were muted by a sudden piercing numbness.

Burden to Simon.

The words kept repeating themselves in her mind.

With her straggly ebony locks framing her partially hidden face, Marceline peered at the image of Simon. How could he? How could he have even thought of that? Sure she was weak back then but had not their time together mean anything? Hadn't they promised to be together? What about the times when she was the one who had pulled him to safety right before he was swiped by some monster? What about all their jokes, the nights they spent laughing in each other's arms till she drifted to sleep? She couldn't contain the sudden unbridled anger that was birthed from the sorrow and despair. The anger that tasted like bitter betrayal and wailed like a heart shattered to nothingness.

And just like Simon, Marceline found no one that she could turn to.

"I trusted you!" It was odd, screeching at an old vestige of a broken dream. "How could you Simon?!" The tears came fast and furious, cascading down her face the moment the dam in her eyes broke free. A whimper than accompanied the quivering of her lower lip. "Why?!" A fist shot out and slammed angrily on the video tape player.

Click.

The screen shook a little as if uncertain in the face of Marceline's wrath. There were a couple of odd, fuzzy noises and the image faded in and out. "Good. Just go!"

The image started playing again.

"No one will hear or view this."

No one, she was a no one.

"And so this will be nothing more but a futile attempt."

Just like their time together.

"But," Simon soldiered on, trying to form the words as he was crippled by the gamut of emotions that rose in his chest, the torment so clearly reflected in his eyes. He took a moment to wipe away his own tears, the bitter defeat still evident in his voice.

"But if this is the eternity that we must face… Then I hope she will continue to watch over me, continue to give me strength to resist. And even if I fail…" He clutched the tattered coat covering his left breast. "At least I know she'll remain in here, somehow. As I hope I am in hers. That's all I ask for."

Simon stared straight into the camera, straight into Marceline's teary eyes. She blinked hard, unsure of how to reply. "You wanted to kill me…"

"Who knows what unspeakable horrors I will act out under the crown's influence? Or how many times I will break her tiny little heart? But if it's all for her, if I can make a difference somehow… With so much uncertainty, I can only resort to this- This attempt at a memory. So that no matter what happens." He thumped his chest once. "Right here. Stay right here with me."

"No." Her protest was soft and feeble.

The screen went blank.

In the darkness, she sat unnaturally still, not daring to move. She feared that if she moved even an inch or dared to take even a breath, she might just shatter. The Empress had the temerity to ask if she was satisfied to see the Ice King in his current demented state. Dared to proclaim that Simon had been happier in his earlier pre-Ice King form. The insult had cut her deep and she hadn't showed the hurt because Finn and PB had been there. Instead she had channeled all the anger into driving the stake into the cursed Empress. Marceline lowered her gaze to the floor. A part of her had always wondered if the Empress had been right. After all, the Simon in her childhood had always been a cheerful man who strove to do his best for the two of them.

The Simon she just met was just a desperate shell.

Her remaining thoughts tumbled over each other, unable to fully make sense of the revelation. He had confided that he wanted to end it all. Yet he had asked her to stay. He was supposed to be a happy optimist, even in the worst of scenarios. He even promised to send someone who would take care of her. Someone whom he claimed would never leave. Yet-

"Marceline?"

Her head snapped up as the lights in the cavern were switched on. Ice King stood at the top the steps leading down into the forgotten basement.

"Ice King!"

"What are you doing here?! You know this is out of bounds! It was Gunter who let you in, didn't he? I told him-"

"Ice King," She cut in, ending the babbling. "Can you answer one question? Truthfully?"

"Hmmm," He scratched his bearded chin. "If it's about my laundry…"

"No," Something in her tone and solemn expression made the Ice King focus on the vampire intently. "Are you happy?"

He blinked a couple of times. "Me? Happy?"

"Yes. Are you… Happy?"

Marceline held her breath. He was taking forever to answer. Was that hesitation she spotted in his eyes? "Never-never mind," She mumbled, not wanting to be shattered again.

"Of course I am!" He proclaimed jubilantly with arms spread out. "You're right here with me!"

"What did you just say?"

"Um… Right banana? Princess? Wha- What? Why are you crying?"

She was quick to wipe the tears away using her long sleeves. "Nothing, something in my eye." A half-hearted chuckle and a faint smile. "Say… Been a long time since we last jammed."

"Oooo…" He rubbed his hands gleefully. "Yes, I have some new genius lyrics! But first, get out of my basement!"

Marceline let out a ring of laughter as she started floating towards the stairs. "Whatever you say Ice King."

And he was right there, all along, mistakes, betrayals, happiness and all.

Always.

End.