The mysterious man took a long, drawn out deep breath as he undid the shirt wrapped around Marshall's stomach. He paled instantly and drew his hands back, momentarily scared. This was an extremely bad case of blood poisoning, and he knew he only had a few hours. The man scrubbed his hands under a small stream with soap, then slipped on latex free rubber gloves from his first aid kit. He then coated his hands with the substance povidone-iodie in order to keep things as sanitary as possible. He hadn't preformed many surgeries in his life time, but was willing to try in the attempt to save a man's life.

The make-shift camp was actually very nice. The tent was a high-tech contraption that managed to alter one's perception of space and the environment itself, looking small on the outside but having a luxurious, much greater amount of room on the inside. The man also had a machine that could basically detect a nearby food and water source from miles away. The stream was very helpful, as it was the purest water available, melting from the snow caps of the Ice Kingdom Mountains. They were mostly surrounded by thick, tall evergreen trees that did a decent job of masking scent and providing cover. It was kind of chilly, but the tent had a magic source of heat. The man was very lucky considering he escaped with his life and so many helpful survival tools. Though he was lucky, he was sick too.

The man prepped his tools and moved to the near dead Marshall. He didn't have much time or anything advanced for medical purposed, so his knives, needles, thread, and small amount of healing cream would be good, but not quite good enough. He began to think, and using natural elements from his surrounding created an antidote for the blood poisoning. He bent over and cleaned the wound with the pads of his fingers, and good ol' fashioned rubbing alcohol diluted with pure, freezing cold water. Marshall was so out of it with the drug that he didn't even flinch. The man worked slowly and cautiously, not wanting to permanently injure Marshall's insides. It was horrifying though.

Three or four times the surgeon had to step away to wretch, or to not faint or pass out. He knew time was of the essence, but making a fatal mistake wouldn't really do his patient well either. The smell of rotting flesh wasn't exactly pleasant, and neither was the sight of it. He walked back over after a few seconds and then rinsed the wound one more time, this time with water. Then he poured the antidote right on the wound, and watched as the odd and sickly ash grey discoloration disappeared before his very eyes. Directly after, he rinsed with one more round of icy cold water. Then, with a clean and fresh towel-like pad, he blotted the torn muscles and skin, and dried them until satisfied. He carefully removed pieces of skin, fat, and muscle that were dead and decaying, then bit his lip hard as he skillfully clotted vein after vein that began to bleed. He occasionally rested his ear on Marshall's chest, and after confirming a steady beat, relaxed. He quickly got to work with the needle and surgical thread.

The surgeon knew exactly how the body's muscle layers were in the stomach, and layer by layer, repaired each muscle that had been sliced in half by connecting the piecing together. His face filled with relief when he finally connected the very top layer, the skin, and then cut the string with his baby scissors. He checked for a heartbeat again and after assuring he had one, placed a special water proof tape over the stitches with intense precision and skill. He then did two more layers, and wrapped his stomach in water proof gauze. He breathed a sigh of relief, actually proud of his accomplishments, then tended to his head. It was a simple split in the skin, and the vampire didn't appear to have a concussion when they spoke, so it was an easy fix. Slowly, he cut a patch out of his hair around the split, then shaved even further around it to keep the situation sanitary. After some rinses, he stitched up the gash, then covered it with tape.

Realizing the current state of his clothes, the caretaker gingerly removed them to find his skin blistered and boiled. "Shit. The radiation really got to him. Now... I think I can create an antidote for this... Hmmm..." He thought aloud as he began to create another concoction with the items he had brought and the items around him. He created a thick remedy with a syrup consistency that smelled like sap, pine, and aloe. It also had a strange aroma of mustard and baby lotion. After bringing the pot of it to a boil, he cooled it. While doing so he stripped the vampire of all his clothes, having the decency to cover his privates with a washcloth. He then poured half of the batch of the remedy all over the vampire and spread it all over his body, even in his hair. He didn't want an ounce of the poison left on his skin, scalp included. It stuck on him, thicker than syrup now, coating his body with a creamy, slimy texture similar to Crisco or solidified vegetable oil.

He took a deep breath, stripped to johns, removed his crown, and then dumped almost the rest of it on himself. He didn't want the poison in or on his body anymore and he was willing to bet his life that his own concoction worked. He caked himself in it, then ate a few spoon fulls. If it was safe to soak in from the skin and all natural, it was safe to do from the inside out. He then moved over to his patient, vibrant blue eyes tired but determined. He refused to stop until the job was done. He observed, noting that the blisters were popping and that his miracle substance pushed the puss and poison up and out of the layer, and it slid right off. He looked down at his own arms to see the harsh red burns healing and disappearing. "I am a genius." He chuckled happily as he shot a small dose of liquid down the back of Marshall's throat. The vampire swallowed and within minutes opened his eyes and looked around.

"What happened!? Oh my glob, I'm dead! I died! Those horrible creatures got to me and I died!" He was screaming, unable to feel or move his body below the bottom of his rib cage. His arms were still quite tingly and heavy with numbness. Two gentle hands caressed his cheeks from behind. His eyes darted up to see the face of his hero.

"You aren't dead, Marshall Lee. Just... out for the count. A little banged up." The voice was so soothing, yet sarcastically irritating, that it made Marshall blush. His eyes studied the face of none other than Bubba Gumball.

"You... saved me?" He asked, eyes wide and whole face turning red. He had never ever seen Bubba in such a way before. Every other time it was embarrassing, awkward, stressful, and tense. Now he felt nothing other than respect for the man that saved his life. He was no longer immortal or invincible. Just a 21 year old kid with 1004 years of experience under his belt. He owed his life to the pink prince made of bubblegum.

"Yes. I did. I also performed surgery on you which actually gave me quite the rush! You're also coated in this remedy I made for the boiling burning skin, as am I. It feels better, trust me. I know you can't feel." He chuckled, affectionately rubbing Marshall's hair back.

"Cut that out, I'm not your pet to be stroking!" Marshall barked and Bubba blushed and chuckled.

"I'm sorry, it's just soft, and I also need you to take a few spoon fulls of my medicine. Could you handle that? It tastes like a minty cream oddly enough. It will assure that no remains of poison are left in your body."

"Sure, hit me up. After that could you maybe get me some water and food, I feel really really sick with hunger."

"I sure can." Bubba mentioned cheerfully, glad he had a brand new buddy to hang out with, even if his company hadn't been great in the past. After feeding Marshall the last bit of the medicine, Gumball went and collected an apple as well as five strawberries and a red bell pepper. He held them up questioningly at Marshall, who nodded ravenously.

"All of it. I would eat it all."

"We'll start with the pepper and two strawberries. I know you'll be upset but I want your stomach to accept the food instead of... uh, losing it minutes later. Just eat slowly and only bits at a time. I'm going to make you drink plenty of water too, alright?"

"Okay okay just let me get something in my stomach...!" Marshall practically begged Bubba, and he obliged by holding a strawberry to his mouth.

"Slow!" The prince warned again as Marshall sucked the red from the juicy ripe berry, doing so in about a minute time period, which was good. Bubba rewarded him with another berry, then the pepper which took him longer, then the final berry. After Marshall ate Bubba gave in to his own growling stomach and indulged on some crackers and peanut butter. His eyes drooped and Marshall blushed softly, noticing just how exhausted Bubba was. It was probably four in the morning, and he probably hadn't slept in a while on his own.

"Gumwad?"

"Yes Marshall?" He asked softly, eyes dragging across the floor until they fell upon the vampire.

"Let's get you to bed, alright? I would help out but I'm kinda numb..." He blushed and the boy nodded, zipping up the tent and locking it tight. He carried the essentially naked Marshall to a comfortable cot-like bed and blushed deeper than ever. "What's up with that face?"

"If you use the restroom you'll go... everywhere. You won't be able to feel it coming. I'm just gonna lie down some towels under you and this absorbent pad. It's made for leaks in the tent or spills but I guess it can be useful considering our situation." He set the bed up for Marshall then lied him down again. He then pushed his bed close to the vampire's and lied down, piling on blanket after blanket on Marshall and himself. "If you need me just... call." He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly. The vampire twitched a smile and observed his savior under the heavy covers, nestled up, feeling better already. Of course it felt odd to be coated in a substance that was now dry and wasn't sticking to anything but themselves, and to not be able to move much, but it was night and day compared to last night. He studied the boy prince's exhausted expression and felt an overwhelming rush of... admiration, was it? No, it was stronger than that. Gratefulness? That wasn't quite it either. He felt deep in his heart that he needed to do something for the prince to show his appreciation. He felt that he needed to make the young man feel good and important. Oddly enough, he swore he felt the need to simply... cuddle him. It was a sickly sweet sensation.