Silence. Glorious, vast and empty.

All around her were walls and walls of books, each one placed in exact alphabetical order. The glass pane ceilings streamed with the last rays of a setting sun, and the gold plaited titles shimmered on their straight spines.

And arms shaking, palms rope burned and sweaty, Bonnibel heaved herself up via pulley rope, a small wooden swing under her sore bottom.

The last book, Yeti: Gentlemen of the Snow, lay on her lap, ready to complete the final row of 'Y.'

Then, her new library would be officially finished.

At last, she was there, leaning out of her seat, the book barely pinched between her fingers. Almost. Almost there.

The corners of the book bumped along the edges of the two that would sandwich it, precariously slipping in her grasp. She strained, her lower jaw jutting forward, a drop of sweat hanging from her cheek.

But that was when it struck her.

Silence. Foreshadowing, short lived and impossible to have. Ever. Not without dramatic sacrifice.

She lunged, jamming the book sideways, almost slapping her face in her haste to correct its position.

A shadow fell across her.

"No no no no no!"

Her glass ceiling imploded, the sound of a thousand diamond slivers whistling and clinking the air rushing her ears.

A great, snarling roar tore past her, a dark, writhing mass sweeping her smack into her book shelf. It was a miracle that her hand held onto the rope.

Dazed, Bonnibel slowly raised her bumped head. Her swimming vision watched as two copies of her book danced into one, perfectly placed into the 'Y' family. The shove must've closed the last bit of space to get it in just right.

"Oh, good," she remarked, rubbing her smarting forehead.

The floor boomed as whatever smashed through her ceiling finally hit, and now Bubblegum looked down, more than happy to be unhappy.

A giant, black wolf was scrambling to get to its paws, but they were sliding, slipping all over the red gushing from its chest and sides.

"OH GLOB WHAT ARE YOU DOING."

The Princess popped her hands free of the rope, letting herself plummet down at break neck speeds.

Her watering eyes squinted against the wind. No self-respecting wolf would ever let its black and grey fur get that shaggy, that bristled and messy. Or let itself get that injured, for the matter.

No normal wolf, at least.

"MARCELINE—WHAT ARE YOU EVEN—!"

She landed hard, wind milling wildly. Blood was far more slippery than she thought.

One of the queen's long and pointed ears twisted back, and Marceline's snarling snout turned, her red gold eyes wide.

"Don't look at me like that, you insolent butt," Bubblegum hissed, her hands gripping the lower shelves for balance as she wobbled over.

Blood burst from the wolf's long and yellow fangs, and now the piercing eyes above them glazed.

"I know, I'mma comin'—Glob, stop bleeding!" she commanded, a prickle of worry starting to trail down her stomach.

Of course, that was when the Marauders came crashing through the twin doors down the hall, swords drawn and mouths foaming.

"Ey yo bros, GET OUT," she waved dismissingly. Not even bothering to turn. A few of the blue and bearded Vikings whizzed past her and Marceline, their feet kicking for traction.

"Oy! Stop messing 'round!" their leader barked.

"But the blood's so slippperrrrrryyyyyyy!" one of them cried in panic, his voice echoing into a distant cry before they both grew too small to see.

"HEY!" Bubblegum thundered, stomping her foot and whirling on the bearded veteran. "You stop messin' around before I mess with your FACE."

His scarred eyes widened, and the Marauder king swung out his arm in a signal for his men to stop. They collapsed against another like a sweaty house of cards, overbalanced in their haste to halt.

"Your Highness! Please move, we caught her creepin' in our mountains—!" he began.

"Does this face LOOK like it's even caring?" Bubblegum snarled, jabbing a finger at her clearly 'not giving a lamb' face. "Hm? HM?"

"Well…no."

"That's correct!" Bonnibel said, spreading her arms. "This stupid animal is now under my roof, my rules, and my jurisdiction. And unless you want candy all up in your buns, making everything sticky, you're gonna get OUT."

"I can't have candy up in my buns!" a soldier cried from the bottom of the pile. "I've got a family!"

"Fine," the leader growled, his white eyes narrowing. "Keep her here trapped in…what looks like your prison of doom."

"It's a library," the princess seethed.

"I can't be in a library! I've got a family!"

"You heard him, now go fetch your boys out of my 'W's."

They slid down the streak of dark red, a clattering of swords, and she finally quavered her way over to Marceline, who was now splayed across the floor.

"And you! I mean it, stop bleeding!"

"You say that like I can control it," wheezed the queen's voice from a pit of fangs, her mushroom nose flaring as she panted.

Bonnibel dropped to her knees, ignoring the chilled blood as it seeped up past her dress and leggings. Her hands gingerly pressed to the wolf's heaving side, fingers parting the sticky fur.

"What did you do, wrestle a cheese grater?" she grimaced. "Turn back, I can't find half of these under all this hair."

The wolf willed its eyes closed, and shrank down and away into the pale grey girl. The princess's eyes grew, staring at the hundreds of lacerations. And oh sweet Thor's kankles there was an enormous claw curving out of her chest.

"Oh Glob, Marceline!" she gasped. Because if it was anything besides direct sunlight or decapitation, a nice ol' impalement to whatever shriveled raisin a vampire called a heart usually did the deed.

"It's okay…just don't remove it," the vampire groaned, and somehow, she looked paler.

"It's okay," Bonnibel whispered, her hand gently grabbing Marceline's. The queen squeezed in reflex, a visible wave of pain wracking through her body. "I just need a second to think. There aren't equations for G.C.C.P."

"Speak. Normal," Marceline hissed.

"Gigantic Claw Chest Protrusions!" Bubblegum cried, as if it were blaringly obvious. Then, her mouth shaped into a silent 'oh!'

"Or is there…Marceline! If you were to bite the ulnar and radial arteries, would it not cause a diversion of your venom, thus canceling out the—"

"Really, Bonnibel?!"

"If. You. Bit. My. Wrist. Would. It. Give you. Enough blood. For me to pull out. This claw. Without. Turning. ME," Bubblegum spelled out in a long voice, her bloodied hands shaping with her words.

"Oh," Marceline blinked. "Yeah, totally." But then her face winced. "I can't ask that of you, Bonnie."

"You're hemorrhaging all over my wood polished floors. You're sort of asking for it."

"Bonnie—"

"Hide the pride, girl. You can owe me one," the princess said, stooping down and wrapping one arm around the wicked claw.

"Okay, on the count of one! Two! THREE!"

She shoved a foot into her stomach, kicking off and using the propulsion to yank the claw from Marceline like a sword from a stone.

The vampire's mouth gaped open, the little air she had left knocked from her body.

Bubblegum thrust her wrist down into it, bracing.

Marceline's teeth sank down and in with two sharp stings.

And then she was weakly suckling on the pink arm. A woozy swoon trailed up Bubblegum's legs, more at the smell of all the blood than the sucking of hers, and she sat, pulling Marceline's upper half up and into her lap.

The vampire was shaking, Bubblegum realized. Shaking and writhing in pain. Her dark eyes were closed, almost looking bruised, but something told the princess it was more from shame than exhaustion.

It couldn't be easy for Marceline to be vulnerable. Stupid, yes, but difficult.

She wasn't sure why, but her free hand unconsciously rose. Its fingers stroked the black strands sticking to Marceline's face away. Her skin, usually cool to the touch, was lukewarm, and she suspected the vampire had her own version of a fever—

"Whooooaaa," Bonnibel marveled, eyes growing large and watery.

She felt Marceline's head stir in her lap. "Boobrokay?"

"One, don't speak with your mouth full," Bubblegum scolded, waggling a finger. "Two, oh my Glob, look at your chest stitch itself back together, that's algebraic."

The princess gazed, watching as the gaping hole in Marceline's chest slowly disappeared. First in a fleshy layer of pulpy heart, then veins, bone fragments, muscle, grey skin—

Her wrist popped from the queen's lips, and Marceline coughed violently, her freshly healed chest heaving.

Bonnibel shook her head, clearing the dizzy fog from her mind. She had to stay conscious. There were so many questions. "My blood did that? Your other wounds! They're healing! You heal so fast! Is it dark in here?"

And with that, her eyes rolled back into her head, her body slumping forward.

Oh spit.

I'm unconscious. Okay, don't panic, it's just blood loss.

Wait, when did Marceline last brush her teeth? Does she brush her teeth?

Oh GOB I probably have scuzzy grunge parasites with tiny black hair and tiny fangs using my intestines as sleeping bags oh NOOOOO

"-oooooooo," Bubblegum groaned, her eyelids tightening.

"Bonnie?" came a soft voice.

And then, an ungodly stench of vomit.

"Ew," the Princess flinched, eyes fluttering open. They only needed to see a flash of what lay inside the bucket being held under her nose. "Oh CAVITIES WHERE DID YOU GET THAT."

"The bucket? Well, this handy fellow was in the corner over there—"

"THE VOMIT."

"Oh! I couldn't find any smelling salts, so I punched one of those Marauder dude's in the stomach and he totally hurled," Marceline's voice beamed, all too gleeful. "Hey, don't ralph too, the bucket's too full for your spit up."

"Just get it away!" Bonnibel squirmed, leaning back against the floor as much as she could.

Except she wasn't on the floor.

Bonnibel's eyes opened under her furrowed brow, staring into Marceline's face.

She was reclined in the vampire's lap, her spine pressing to the vampire's chest.

Their noses almost touching, and her head was lolled back on the older girl's shoulder, and their noses were almost touching.

The corner of Marceline's lip hooked up, the side of her canine shining, and for the love of God, and all that is holy, their faces were very close and therefore their noses were almost touching.

"Hey," the vampire murmured, setting the bucket down. "You okay?"

And Bonnibel had never noticed how deep, dark, and red Marceline's eyes were. Or how she had really long lashes. Or how her breath was cool and sweet.

"Am I covered in your blood?" Bonnibel whispered.

Marceline blinked. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Like head to toe."

"Ugh," Bubblegum muttered, meaning to lift a palm to her forehead, but stopping. There, on her wrist, was black gauze. The same sort of black of the tank top strap her cheek was leaning against.

"Oh—you bandaged it."

"With my shirt," Marceline nodded, pointing to a fresh tear in her fabric. Below the ragged line, Bubblegum could see the tight flesh of her stomach. An older scar sat there, something that had to have happened long before the girl had been attacked today. It almost looked like an angry sea horse.

"What happened today?" Bonnibel asked, starting to sit up, wincing, then motioning to stand. Marceline rose with her, hands steadying the princess.

"Some vamp tramp decided that they were tired of having an unofficial and inactive ruler," she muttered, huffing a black strand of hair from her face. "So we did battle, and I eviscerated him. But not before his bros showed up and gave me a pretty decent whooping. I had to run through the mountains to escape, the blue butts got mad, I fell through your ceiling, and…"

She paused, looking down at her feet, pale features struck with realization. When she looked back up, the princess was almost astonished.

Marceline? Serious? What.

"And you saved me," the queen said, her voice reflecting every inch of humble gratitude her torn clothes showed, a rip for every cut that only minutes ago had been bleeding her dry. The one over her chest showed a fresh scar. It almost looked like the rings a tree stump had.

Bubblegum's lips opened. Maybe to brush it off. Maybe to scold. Nothing like the words that came out.

"Yeah, well you scared me. You might be immortal, but as shown today, there are things that will even kill that."

What?

"What?" Marceline sputtered.

What.

"I mean…I could've lost you. So be careful."

The blush burning on her cheeks could've fueled a rocket into space. And like Marceline was helping, just standing there, completely taken aback.

Bubblegum pursed her lips hotly, her arms crossing clumsily.

"This is me scolding you. For being reckless and stupid. And messing up my library! It looks like trolls threw a rave party, vomit included. And smells like it too. And if you think I'm going to save your butt every time you go oh hey nay cray, you got another thing—"

A pair of lips pressed to her cheek. Bubblegum's throat tightened.

Marceline pulled back, her breath ghosting the princess's now red skin.

She stared at the vampire. And the older girl gazed back, a hint of a smile gracing unusually soft features. "Thank you. I'm uh, I'm going to get out of your hair now."

She literally did, pinching her grey lips as she pulled loose strands of her tresses free from the princess's gummy locks.

And then figuratively, her dark hair flickering as she kicked up and off into the evening sky framed with a shattered ceiling.

Bonnibel's fingers touched where the vampire had kissed, as if there were something tangible there to feel.

"PEEBLES!" hollered Finn, slamming down the door. "I saw the Marauders come running into the kingdom and—"

The boy slipped, crashing to the ground.

"Whoa! What's up with all the blood?" Jake squealed from the doorway, his ears flat.

"Yeah, it's not yours, right PB?" Finn pressed, his face swollen from catching the fall.

"No," the princess murmured, her hand slipping from her cheek. "It's fine."

"The hole in your ceili—"

"All good."

"Are these wolf prints—"

"Easy peasy."

The boys watched as she walked past them, staring ahead. "C'mon, let's get some help to clean up, shall we?"

"What…Bubblegum hates wolves," Finn muttered.

"And blood," Jake whined, looking like someone was throwing a blue into his yellow. "I think we should just follow her man, I'm going to be sick."

"Hmmm," the boy grumbled, but follow they did.