Some of you may find this a little boring, but I think the interaction between these two is vital to understanding their relationship in the future. Marcy as a mommy...will get easier to write as the baby gets older.
Hope you guys like this story, R&R, please!
I do not own Adventure Time or its characters.
Marceline was tired of flying through the forest. Her face burned; she had hugged the baby close to her body the entire time, making sure the leaves of the trees scratched her ruthlessly instead of the baby. Where her pants had been ripped by the jagged claws of the broken laboratory wall, branches clawed at her flesh, making a mess of her already swollen leg. She winced, thinking that the sun would be rising soon, and that using energy to heal her injuries now would be too big a risk. She looked up and found herself staring into a dense green and black sky, unable to tell what time it was for the lack of light. She hoped she had been flying straight, at least.
The map was useless to her now- there was no way to navigate with it while swimming through the trees. She stuffed it into her pocket, leaving her hand inside to cradle the child's leg through the supple leather of the jacket. She felt the baby shift her thigh towards the touch, and Marceline unwillingly twitched a smile. She didn't know what it was that caused the reaction in her, but whenever the baby accepted her attempts to comfort, warmth flowered in her chest that was almost kind, and tender. These emotions had lain dormant in the vampire for so many centuries that she did not know how to handle them, and when they nudged at her ribs now, she accepted the reactions they emitted without much thought, and decided to think over them the next time they occurred. Each time a new wave of emotion ran through her, however, she found herself at a loss all over again.
Marceline had been lost in her thoughts for several minutes, and could now see the scant white rays of sunlight snaking through the trees ahead of her. Her skin began to tingle surely enough, and she pulled the jacket tighter around her ears, rising above the forest line, hissing at the pain of her scalp and eyes.
She procured the map and looked over it once more, scanning the horizon line.
Marceline looked into the forest, noting that she had not passed through its core, but rather cut across its edge. The most dangerous of predators lived in the center of the forest. Sure, on her own, Marceline was the most dangerous of predators, but she was carrying precious cargo. And besides, she was tired. She turned around, eyes watering from the exposure to the rising sun. Aside from the forest, the land was barren of trees, stretching into a large field several hundred acres long rendered fuzzy by stalks of grass and weeds tall as Marceline's waist. A few thousand meters away was a humongous copse of rocks, and Marceline smiled to see it. The baby stirred within her jacket, whimpering with irritation at being confined so long.
"Shh, shh, little thing. We're home, don't worry. You'll be out of this smelly thing soon…" She unzipped her jacket to allow the baby to squint into the sunlight. She decided she preferred the dark and buried her little face into Marceline's ribs, groaning audibly and pulling a chuckle from the base of Marceline's throat. The sunlight grew more intense, angry boils erupting over her neck and face, so Marceline sped off towards the rocks, diving into the grass and through a narrow entrance swirling deep into the ground. It was significantly cooler out of the sun, and the shade from the dried grass brought immediate relief from the pain of the sunlight. Marceline could hear water dripping over the stalagmites at the entrance of the cave. She was happy to know the underwater stream was alive still, as she would need it for the baby.
Sighing, Marceline shimmied off the backpack and unzipped her jacket, taking the fussing baby into her arms as she dropped it to the ground. The baby reached up to her face, and Marceline smiled down at her.
"Hey there. Gotta get rid of these soiled duds. Don't want any green nast getting into our home, now do we?"
The baby gurgled in response, squirming happily as Marceline shed her shirt. She pulled off her filthy red high tops and socks with her free hand, gently easing the torn pants over her shredded flesh. The skin was already beginning to close over the bright red flesh, and the boils receded, leaving no trace of their existence on her smooth grey skin. Marceline's wiry body was different, ignorant of the damp chill in the cave…the baby's was not. She shivered against Marceline, who quickly shouldered the pack- it had too many precious items within to leave behind or carry alone, and besides, it had been shielded by her hair- before making her way into the cave.
Around a small corner was a house made roughly of whitewashed wood. Sharpened tree trunks surrounded the house, threatening to pierce intruders. The only way in was flying up and over the trap onto a porch leading to a heavy wooden door. Marceline stuck her finger into holes drilled into the door and clicked the locks inside, pushing through into the house.
In the living room was a large generator, which Marceline went to first. She flipped it on, satisfied when it conked a bit before whirring more confidently. She tried the lights, which flickered on slowly to life and moved to check the refrigerator in the kitchen. She looked inside, grimacing at the smell of spoiled milk and fruit juices. She closed the refrigerator- she'd take care of that later.
The baby had been fussing, making small sounds while tossing in Marceline's arms. The feel of skin on skin was strange to Marceline- something buried deep in memories of lullabies and hugs quickly replaced by flashes in the sky and raging sickness. Marceline rocked her gently, awkwardly, and the small palms made their way to her collarbone and the tops of her breasts. Her cheek rubbed against the softer fabric of Marceline's tank top, the small pink lips feeling, searching. Marceline blushed, taken aback suddenly by the instinct of this small creature, and she quickly offered the infant a finger to suck on. Marceline walked to the table and put the backpack on the table, searching its contents quickly as she could.
"Hey, hey, give me a second…" The baby had a vice grip on Marceline's wrist, whining shrilly when no milk came from the pinky in her mouth. Marceline rushed through her search and found the jar she was looking for: it was small enough to fit in her hand, and the inside of the glass container was coated in thick purple goo floating in violet milk. Marceline shook it vigorously and opened the lid to replace it with a nipple- it smelled to her like milk and sweet grape jam- and moved it to the child's mouth.
The baby took to it quickly, grunting and making small gurgling noises as she drank its contents. She sputtered, once, and Marceline tried to pull it a way a little.
"Take it easy, babe…" The baby did not take it easy, but instead continued her violent suckling, stopping only when the bottle was drained. Marceline put the little jar by the sink, remembering she had to put the rest in the refrigerator (the Professor had given her four). The baby's stomach rumbled and Marceline flung her onto her shoulder, starting the awkward baby back-pat she'd heard about as a child. A small sound, and suddenly warm ooze snaked down her back, through her hair, and into the waistband of her panties. Wincing, Marceline sighed.
She'd needed to wash, anyways.
Once upon a time, the man caring for Marceline had modeled this house after his own, making a second floor with a bedroom joint to a bathroom. It was in total disarray now, centuries later, when Marceline was the one watching a forlorn and needy child. Marceline stepped into the room and squinted at all the dust, clicking a bedside lamp on only to find it did not work. She tried the one on the other side of the bed, filling the room with a warm yellow glow.
The bed was almost fluffy from all the dust. Marceline took the quilt and rolled it down from the top of the bed to the base, dropping it to the floor in a heap. She moved to her closet, happy to find clean blankets neatly folded in the shelves within. She took the largest and spread it over the bed, then arranged the pillows so the baby could lie comfortably between them. She'd been in this house once after her transformation, and she found her sweatpants and tank top inside the closet, tossed deep into a drawer beside a few scant pairs of panties. These she put on the bed beside the baby, and went into the bathroom to let the water run warm. Once it warm enough, she scooped water over herself and rinsed off the dirt and baby slime, soaking a washcloth and scrubbing more vigorously at the more stubborn stains. She turned on the shower then and washed her hair quickly, wrapping her hair in a towel and going to get the baby.
She was mid-awake, not ecstatic and not tired enough to sleep. She contently played with her toes, but Marceline stopped her from sucking on them, explaining the green could be anywhere and it was dangerous. The baby looked at her blankly, but Marceline ignored the look, moving her to the gentle current of warm water in the bathtub, which the baby contributed to with her own yellow rivulet.
When both were clean, Marceline folded a soft white cloth over the child as a makeshift diaper and dressed herself quickly. The clock by her bed read 12, which she knew was wrong. There was no way of telling what time it truly was- her wristwatch lay outside beside her leather jacket- but her internal clock flipped in her stomach, willing her to sleep.
Marceline slipped beneath the thick quilt, wrinkling her nose at the smell of closet stank and remaining dust. The baby curled into a small ball beside her, and Marceline constructed a half moon with the two extra pillows on the bed to keep her from falling off. The baby's bright blue eyes followed her every movement, entrancing the part of Marceline still in too much shock from the entire ordeal to sleep. This part willed her to reach out and pull her close, and this part made her snuggle down into the blankets, child tucked firmly beneath her chin and flush to her chest. The baby happily complied.
"No need to worry about being squashed, kiddo. I sleep like the dead."
The baby let out a soft gurgle, and Marceline swore she understood. She ran her thumb over the soft thigh she cradled, eyes drooping in time with those of her charge. It had been a long night, and they both desperately needed to rest.
Marceline's eyes snapped open at the sound of wood breaking, and the shrillness of a baby's screaming cry.