Song: You Found Me by The Fray

Suggested by: HVK

I found God on the corner of 1st and Amistad

Where the West was all but won

All alone, smoking his last cigarette

How-

How many-

How many times…

How many times has he been cracked over the head, and hurled into blackness? Five? Ten?

At first, there's nothing. He's still in his room, still half-asleep, he still has Marceline- and he believes it. Why not believe it? He believes he's there with all those beautiful people, he thinks nothing is wrong.

Then, there is everything- crashing right down on him crushing him beneath reality. He feels the cool metal on his cheek sticking to his skin like tape. There is silence all around him, beating his ears like the bass on a soundtrack. There's an excruciating thwacking on the crown of his skull in tune with the thumping of his heart- he recognizes that pain all too well. He finally makes out the noise of his own breathing, flowing in and out of his lungs like the waves of an ocean he once paid a visit to. The last to meet his mind is the sure, cruel, ruthless fear that erupted all at once at the base of his stomach like ice that forces his breath to hitch and jostle his whole body.

Last, he knows exactly where he is.

He brings a hand to his fore-head, and rubs the flesh there to help him wake, and scratches the sand from his eyes. No, no, no.

He opens his lids a crack, welcomed by the calmness of night. "Marceline," He calls out with the last dwindle of hope and breath that he was only dreaming of yesterday. He's greeted brilliantly with no answer that encouraged him closer to sobs.

Shadows are cast on the floor around him of lines… sticks… braches… bars. So familiar to him he feels the stinging in his eyes and the choking in his throat.

No.

I said, "Where've you been?" He said, "Ask anything."

He slowly sits up from the ground, careful not to disturb the migraine into anything more to deal with from moving.

No, please say no, NO, NO, NO. TELL HIM THIS ISN'T WHAT HE THINKS! PLEASE!

He refuses to believe it, simply that. There was no possible way that they found him in all of Ooo.

But look! Do you see the bars surrounding you? Do you remember the white ceiling on the tent above you? Can you hear the crowds around you? Can you feel that whip slicing through your precious skin?

The first sob jerks him in on himself, the second driving him to clutch his middle in fear it would fall to pieces on him, the third taking air from him until he was gasping for breath.

Please no. Please say no. Don't you care?

Tears are falling from the angles on his face, dropping onto his… chest? Where did his shirt go? His blue sweater? His blanket?

Please say he still had them, those garments at the least.

He leans in, head between his knees. He can't be back in Hell when he's sure he was in Heaven.

He doesn't notice when the sun rises, shinning happily on his face through the holes in the tent; doesn't care when there's birds chirping through a tarp to him. What snaps him out of his daze is the voice.

No.

Please.

If you're not going to help, you might as well just shoot him.

"You should be happy," She says calmly, standing close to his cell. Her dead, black hair was left lying around her shoulders, still and ever. "You're back."

His nails grip his bare knees, eyes wide in shock.

Shoot him now.

"Are you hungry?" There's the sound of ceramic sliding against the floor, and the smell of something delicious.

He takes the chance of glancing to his right in her direction; why was she giving him food?

"It's called Apple Pie, my friend Tree Trunks makes the best in Ooo," She only looks up at him from the ground with innocent eyes. Her hands and folded on her waist like an obedient child, back strait, feet together.

He stares at the white plate with "Apple Pie" lying in the center of the circle with a fork lying on the side. He inches closer to it drawn in by hunger. He lifts the utensil from its place, and cuts himself a piece thinking of Jermaine and what he'd do to him if he ate with his hands.

In short, it was the greatest freaking thing he's ever taster in his life. The warmth that came from it was almost more inviting that Marceline's embrace.

Marceline.

He nearly gags when he pictures her face.

He was betraying her. He betrayed her, she didn't do anything. It really sucked to realize it now that it was too late.

She had to come back, she promised; but why did he leave? Because he's insane- duh.

"Do you like it?" She takes one step closer, inquiring so much with just her deep black eyes; those wicked, vile, sinful eyes.

The fear inside him spread like Cancer, through every cell in his body that survived this long. His instincts were screaming at his to run, to break for it, to flipping B-Slap that freak show staring him down!

He wants to say something, but he knew the consequences all too well- he cringes at the thought of the words.

"No," She nods in an understanding way as if she were actually asking his opinion. Her locks swing with her head like an umbrella twirling.

His gaze doesn't leave her, this was not Ring Master. Ring Master was a vicious, unforgiving, a lethal creature ready to claw you to pieces, eat your meat, and then leave you to die when you're barley alive. She was the Barer of Fire, Ruler of Rings, La Diabla. She was the one to end your life as she laughed, whip in hand. She was a nightmare come to life. She made his life a nightmare.

This Ring Master was girly, nice, caring. Just the way she was looking at him made him doubt that she was ever that monster. But those memories were too clear, as clear as the scars on his back. He knew not to trust her, though; she was always like this when he was taken back. She was always… nice.

Then get ready for a beating, Whipping Boy. Have fun.

His tongue rolls in his mouth, pressing to be used to say so many things to her face. His vocal chords yearned to be hummed; they wanted to speak all the things he's meant to say over years. And for a moment, he thinks of letting them.

She turns her head at an angle away from him, as if she felt pain to say it- "Where were you?"

That's it, she's done it.

He opens his mouth, and bares his teeth like Marceline does when she warns others to back away. He said to himself that if he ever finds himself back in here, he's going to be the animal she wants him to be.

Fear? What fear? Right now that Fear is hormonal rage.

Her eyes widen slightly, she wasn't expecting that.

"Where?" He shrieks, standing so quickly the world spins around and forces him to grip the bars. "I was living, Bitch!"

Ouch…

"I was alive! For once!" The pounding in his skull makes him bow his head, perfect for eye contact. His hands struggle to keep his wobbling legs steady, his fore-arms fight to hold him up from collapsing.

Just shoot him for cryin' out loud, have mercy; or are you going to stand back like all the others and watch him suffer? Now that would be easy, wouldn't it?

Out of mind?

Maybe that's why he's so broken, no one ever tried to repair the early cracks in the Man of Glass.

Where were you, when everything was falling apart.

All my days were spent by the telephone that never rang

She's never felt this, never. She hasn't even felt this in her previous life.

Panic. She is panicking. This is not good. She doesn't want to panic, but what choice does she have? Maybe Panic is what's keeping her going. Or was it something else?

But what else could be driving a Vampire to find a Needle in a Haystack other than Panic?

She was so careful with him, completely watchful over all he did like danger was lingering around the corner to rip him from her grip. Maybe the danger was her.

Perhaps she was the monster he was supposed to fear right from the beginning instead of that "Ring Master" he told her about. Maybe she was meant to be feared by the one she loves.

At this moment, she feels empathy for Ring Master.

It's been a day and a night of searching, forlorn quests for the one who ran. Every second she spent away from him was a second she could be with him, holding him, protecting him.

Why was she so stupid to let him go so easily?

"FINN!" She cries out into the night, waiting several moments only welcomed by silence.

Darn, she was sure that would work.

Where is he? Where did he disappear off to? Did he even have a destination in mind- apparently not judging by what he left behind.

At first, she was pretty sure he was dead. Well, he was only human, and there's been some Rainicorns flying around for the annual Day of Colors.

Plus, it was freezing outside, and that kid left with only one blanket.

Then, she flew across this- a puddle of water housing a decent amount of blood in the middle of the Forest.

This wasn't just blood; it was Finn's blood swirling around in water like a storm on a smaller scale. When she found it, she wasn't sure if she should cheer because she knew where he was going, or if she should fall with terror because of the realization that Finn, her Finn, was dying.

Or just really hurt.

Either way, it's a fact that she flew even faster after finding clue number one.

And all I needed was a call that never came

To the corner of 1st and Amistad

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me

Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded

Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?

Just a little late, you found me, you found me.

She's been going over those first beautiful memories for hours like they were the last things keeping her from falling over the edge of Sanity, (they probably were).

She could see his crystal blue eyes from behind his mop of tangled dirty locks of gold, staring at her from above his knees with suck intensity she had to pinch herself to stop fidgeting with need. She can practically hear all those people calling back and forth mindless insults that turned to screams when she showed her identity. She can feel the tension in her muscles when she pulled the bars back as if she were going it all over again.

She found him, he was her responsibility. Or was that just an excuse for her to hang around?

She can still see those amazingly striking eyes brighter than the sun on a good day, she can still see those dark eyes squeezed shit as they cried on a bad day.

She can still hear his voice, she still cares about him, and she still loves him.

But in the end everyone ends up alone

He was expecting it; he's not going to deny that he was assuming that he'd be back in this cell at one time or another. It's only what this cruel Life had in store for him, no hard feelings?

Well, from the start really- He's known he wasn't going to be able to actually leave. He may escape those bars for a short amount of time, but they were still around him even if he couldn't see them. He'd never really escape.

Everyone ends up trapped, right? No matter what? Ring Master told him that. But why does everyone end up alone, going solo; why is everyone excluded from the pack sooner or later? Do they want to leave, or are the forced out? Maybe they aren't even alone to start with.

Losing her, the only one who's ever known

Who I am, who I'm not and who I wanna to be

No way to know how long she will be next to me

She's changed him, there's no doubting that. What was he, an injured animal ready to be hit and take it? But he's Human, it isn't right for a Human to expect to be hit… Is it?

After her "Showing-Up" those first few days, he got a little better. He still thought he'd be knocked over the head when he made eye-contact, even now.

Of all the people in Ooo, there were exactly three people to knew who he was. The Cyclops Guy, Marceline, and Ring Master.

Oh, sorry, were you expecting Jake, Beemo, or Jermaine? Well here's where he bursts your bubble- they don't know him. You may think that, they may think that, but in all reality they have no idea who, or what he is. He wishes he could tell you, he wishes he could break it to himself- He's only Human.

Humans are so fragile, so breakable; all you needled was-

A bullet.

It all depends on who's shooting.

There was no telling how long she was going to have him when he's weighing his chances with bullets. But when he finally decides what to do, who will he be losing; himself, or her? But those bullets seem really nice right about now.

There's no knowing how long they'd have each other, there's no telling how long he'll be willing to get up and forgive her. Has he already lost her, has he lost all his hope?

...

Can you lend him a bullet?

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me

Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded

Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?

Just a little late, you found me, you found me.

It was the Annual Chicken Parade at Chicken Blood Cove where they hand out free eggs. He came every year for that one reason; y'see, he had no job and ate about every two days. He took every free meal he could because he had no choice.

After his parents croaked he was on his own. His brother left home on his own years earlier, he had no idea where he went, no knowledge if he would even take him in. All alone in the world, he scavenged for food and money wherever he could- Thank Glob for the Chicken Parade. He relied on the dozens of eggs he got that one day of the rest.

All around were floats of Hens and Roosters from the days prior to The Great Mushroom War, feathers of paper and eyes made of old car tires. They were carried on these things called "Pick Up Trucks", whatever those were.

He piled up white and brown eggs in a huge basket like precious mountains. In good time, he had to grow larger just to keep it from sagging on the ground.

Even in a crowd of hundreds, it was easy to pick out a fellow dog especially his bright yellow color. After blinking his always drowsy eyes, the picture cleared to an image of his brother.

His breath caught in his throat; he thought Jermaine was dead. "JERMAINE!" He screamed drawing too much unwanted attention. "BRO! OVER HERE!" He shoved his way through the crowds of people, doing his best not to drop any of the valuable loads. He embraced his stunned brother when he finally got to him, "Where've you been?" he didn't mean for his voice to break like that.

They stood in silence for a minute… until Jake started to cry on his shoulder. He missed Jermaine more than anything. He thought he was alone in this world, his family dead, his home condemned, he was forced to do things he'd rather forget about. He thought his life was over for a while there.

Jermaine per se, he'd been living in luxury. He worked in the Candy Kingdom as a Peace-Keeper after Princess Bubblegum went missing. There, he earned enough to buy himself a home, a valley, and he'd lived there separated from the rest of the world up 'til then. Unlike the other, he knew Jake was alive… somewhere. He thought Jake was happy without him.

He overlooked his brother in horror and disgust. Jake's once bright golden fur was coated heavily with mud, fleas, and… blood? The pads of his feet were blistered from travels Jermaine could only read of. Deep gashes were scattered over his body so far into his skin you could see the muscle ready to rot away. Through all, his eyes were the same as ever- hope filled and delighted no matter the things they've seen. "What… happened to you?"

The content gaze flattered- the first blow. He wiped some water from his eyes as they lowered to the ground. "Mom and Dad," He whispered, "they're dead."

Jermaine's breath was cut short, "What?" He held on to the other's shoulders, begging for an explanation, "You're joking, right?"

Jake shook his head solemnly, where did the happiness that was his go? "The house isn't ours anymore, either."

Jermaine tried to force his head up from the floor so he could speak to him, but it only ended with Jake stepping away from him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I stole things and I hid them- bikes. I hurt people, I hurt me," He whimpers suddenly, tears rolled down his face, "Jermaine, why didn't you find me?"

He missed Jake, too.

The early morning, the city breaks

And I've been calling for years and years and years

It was so

Typical.

He-

He was-

He was here again.

The crowds around him roar louder than life, the screams and shouts pounding in his ears like the beating of a drum. His lungs take in as much air as they could, oxygen was running low by the hour.

Time was fleeing by the hour, as well. The face on the clock was laughing at him, its hands reaching out to grab him and squeeze him until he thought his last thought. He knew what was coming as soon as the last of the tourists were gone.

Whip the Whipping Boy…

He cringes at the crystal clear image of those gems on the handle. He feels his heart quicken inside his chest ticking his limited time away much too quickly. All day long-

Or has it been a week?

Since he's been open to the public again, he's been searching frantically over all the faces for a cloaked one- a face with eyes as red as autumn leaves, skin as pale as winter's first snow, fangs as sharp as his tongue. He was looking for the most beautiful face he'd ever seen to no avail.

Where-

Where is she? He thinks, peering out from the locks of golden hair. His knees are brought in to his chest, arms crossed over his legs. He wanted to cry, he wanted to shiver, he wanted to be alone- he was afraid.

Afraid for his life! He knew it- He wasn't going to see tomorrow.

He's been hoping, praying, begging for her to come and take him away from this place to a place where'd he'd never have to think about these things again.

It was so typical.

"Look at it!" A little girl screeches out above the rest, "What is that thing?" She tugs on a man's pants next to her, pointing a grubby sapphire colored finger right at him, "Can I talk to it?"

The man only rubs his hand over her stupid little head, "No, it's very dangerous, sorry dear." He smiles apologetically, never taking his gaze off the cage.

Finn watches them carefully from behind his bars. The little girl stares enviously at him; her washed out, single white eye wanting him. Her small, icy blue hands clench and unclench itching to touch him. Women scare him.

Without any sort of warning, she rips away from the man's side, and starts to race over to the cage. Dodging waving arms, slipping through legs. He found her directly in front of his cell.

Her snowy face is puffed out with pride, "You know!" She announces right to him. The girl starts to climb up the side of the enclosure, gripping the metal walls all the way to the bars.

He backs away from that side of the cell sliding on his butt until his back hits the poles. He observes the little girl make it all the way to his level. His billowed out green dress falls down over her ankles; how did she manage to get up there? "Where's my daddy?" She shouts out, right at him, one eye burning into his.

Daddy? Then who was that man?

"Leave," He whispers, turning away from her. He couldn't say anything more than that, he wouldn't.

She growls out "No! He's here!" Her grip on the bars loosen quickly, she was about to fall.

In that last second, he saw in her face someone he knew. Maybe it was her one eye. He can't help but smile inside.

Her hands squeak against the metal, her mouth opens to scream.

Without thinking, without knowing, without meaning to, he launches himself off the ground, the world spinning too fast around him. He slid his bare chest against the metal floor, his good hand out stretched. The stinging pain of weight in the joint of his wrist forces him to jerk up.

She just hung there, a foot form the trampled ground. He just lay there, trying not to drop her.

Ooo really needs a hero.

She's taken from his hands, taken far, far away where he'd never see her again. He knew it- He'd have to pay for this somehow.

He knows it, he's no hero.

Sooner than later, he curls in on himself; the sun starts to set under the horizon. His time is up.

He sobs quietly, he hurt already inside. He knows what's coming for him. He knows what's going to happen to him.

Can you stop it?

And you never left me no messages

You never sent me no letters

A puddle of blood. That's what she found.

A puddle of blood. Are you serious? She is a VAMPIRE, for cryin' out loud!

But it's a good thing she just ate a bunch of strawberries, right?

She kicked a pile of dirt into the water soaking up the puddle into part of the land, she didn't want anyone else to know there was an injured human walking around- she didn't want anyone spotting an easy kill.

She tugs the flaps of her cloak in around her to ward off the frightened feeling in her gut. Soon, she took flight, searching madly in every inch over every inch of the forest.

After a hopeless hour, she recognized the blue fabric below, alone in a sea of green it stood out all too well.. Panicking, she dives down to the ground to make sure it wasn't his-

Sweater. His sweater and his shirt.

She carefully raises his possessions to her face- they smelled of Finn, her Finn.

But why would he take them off if it was near freezing? Was he that stupid? She tucks the clothes into her cloak for safety. Now she knew which direction he was going in.

Before she was ready, her instincts flew her towards the sounds and stenches of people. Three people she knew were there even before she came to them- a man, a young boy, and an older woman, all made of chocolate. They were chatting amongst themselves excitedly, too loud in her opinion.

They stop abruptly when they come across a hooded figure in their path glaring with unnoted hatred upon them.

"Um, excuse me, can we help you?" The old chocolate woman asks irritably.

Her jaw clenches, "Where are you coming from?" She hisses, hands turn fists.

The little boy chirps up with no invitation "The circus We had A LOT of fun!"

Her blood red eyes flicker towards him, sending his to cower behind the man, "Human? Was there a human?"

Please say there wasn't a human.

The woman groans, "It was hideous! Yellow hair, no shirt! What a disgrace of Glob!" She throws her Candy-Cane around to emphasis her point.

She asks quickly, "Where's the Circus?"

The man waves his hand to brush away her question, "No use, we were all told to leave early. We dunno why." He nods his head back behind him, "Half a mile away, huge white tent, you can't miss it."

First thought- He did something. Second thought- They're going to do something.

She flew right up and over the trio's shocked faces, her nose guiding her. She knew she was close, so close.

She just needed to get there now.

You got some kind of nerve taking all I want

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me

He was taken from his cage. When he wouldn't move, they dragged him out down a stepping stool, and across the trampled upon dead grass inside the tent.

He didn't even put up a fight. What was the use?

He was brought to the familiar three-foot poles of wood with leather ties hanging off each. Their shadows were cast to the left by electric lights of another time.

The Faceless Men dragged him in between the two posts, and bubkled the leather around each of his wrists. His head was hanging below his shoulders, he was defeated without a battle.

Then came the vicious, dangerous, hate-filled voice- "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Everything. He had everything to say. He wanted to speak for the times he didn't, he wanted to talk for the lost friend who no longer could, he needed to let her know.

There came no answer. No sound, no acknowledgment that he even heard her. His bare back twitches with anticipation, the rippled long, think white scars reminded her of all those other times.

"Do it," She nods to the taller worker who held the whip.

He saw the glint of colors reflected off the colored stones onto the floor. Bright green light spider-webbed over the ground around him, creating the perfect shadow of himself cast on the grass.

He hears the sickening snap of the whip, the forced grunt of the man; the same things every time… then, a female scream, a shout, someone falling…

What were they waiting for?

"YOU!" It was Ring Master, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" She sounded as furious as a hurricane. He could practically see the dust falling off of her shaking body.

But where was the pain? The whip- did it touch him without him knowing it? That's never happened before to him. If so, what was the point of keeping silent if there was no consequence?

"Right back at 'cha, sister," Came a calm, deep tone, dark and filled with warning. It was powerful, stronger than his hope as a child. It was the voice of-

"Marceline!" He cried out, leaning his head over his shoulder trying to see behind him, ending in total failure.

Marceline… She came? Why would she come for him? Didn't she forget about him?

"Finn," Her word breaks with pity, pity for him. Or was in anguish?

No, she had to get out of there. They were going to kill her along with him somehow. They always know how to kill.

There a 'came Ring Master's screeching as if she were the animal, here "GIVE IT TO ME!"

"Don't-

"Don't give it to her!" He tries to say, but something cut him off. His voice sputtered in his sentence like a flickering light. He didn't mean to… stutter. He's new to stuttering.

Why would he if he's not afraid to speak?

Lying on the floor

Where were you? Where were you?

She didn't skip a beat; the second she saw the lit up tent she flew right in through a hole in the tarp and crashed into this guy…

But in the end it turned out knocking that guy into unconsciousness was good thing.

At first, she was confused because there was a woman practically fist-pumping, a peppermint guy with half a face watching helplessly, and a buff knight holding a whip. Then she saw Finn kneeling on the ground- SHIRTLESS!

(Finally!)

That woman… the one with the long dead black hair and fake-looking skin- she seemed familiar, but where did she know her from? She might've not liked her when they met the first time, because with no hesitation she down right hated her when she saw Finn tied up and shirtless.

What a bitch.

"He's mine!" She shouts, dropping her hood down around her shoulders. "Step off!" that was HER shirtless man!

The other scoffs, "Your's? What the cabbage? I found the human first!" She points a thumb at her own chest, and gestures towards Finn, "He's known me for an eternity!" She counters, Finn was rightfully her property.

Marceline bares her fangs in rage, still tinged with red from the strawberries, "Go to the Night-o-Sphere you sick freak!" She backs away from her one step, two steps, going for a third where she'd be able to free that shirtless Finn.

Then all too soon with no kind of explanation, the stench of death wafts around the tent… around her. It started to choke her, its invisible fingers shoving themselves down her throat and pinching off her nose. It was a smell of horror, one all vampires should fear and cower from. Someone here knew of the "No Garlic" rule (number 3). What a total jack-ass.

Finn had no idea what the red and white Faceless man was holding up, but he knew it wasn't anything good. it was some kind of white flower bud that smelled horrible forcing his nose to twitch.

"Mar-

"Marceline!" He calls out, trying to see the scene behind him only causing his neck to cramp. He was met with no answer, nothing to say to him that she was alright.

There's a thump as if someone fell to the floor, and coughing sounds coming from behind him.

At least she found him, at least she was there.

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me

Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded

Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?

No.

NO!

He struggles against the leather ropes, yanking each arm to no success of self-liberation. His boney arms crackle with each thrust, his teeth grinding into the other row from pain.

"How did she find you?" Ring Master screams, the green light of stone showering in all directions, "How does she know you?" Her voice breaks, why did her voice break? Then, there is a sob, is she crying? "Why, did she call you Finn?"

That was it. He's done with her.

"I-

"I love-

"I love her."

His words were shattering. He couldn't keep them in one piece; it was like they were breaking in his hands and scattering to dust when they hit the ground.

There's a sniffle, the green light shaking with her hand, "How?"

He says it as sympathetically as he could. "She loves me."

The snap of the whip. A fire trails its claw deep beneath his skin cutting into his muscle and down to his bone where the electricity sparks and scatters down into his legs. He cries out, his fists holding fast onto the leather. The black behind his eye lids forms the color red for the pain.

Another crack of the weapon, another mouth-full of skin gone, another fire in his arm where it jostles his limb uncontrollably, and another scream out into the night- only there was someone to hear them.

We have an audience.

She was still alive… barley. Almost unable to breathe, unable to see, unable to think. All she could do was lie there, and listen to the gut-wrenching, tortured sounds coming out of his mouth, rumbling along her ears like the sound of a time-bomb ticking away. She doesn't know why, but compared to all other tortured screams she's heard, these are going to haunt her dreams to nightmares for a long, long time. A decade?

A decade of nightmares. She knew of someone who could ward them away- if he survives.

She cringes at the volume of is screech, louder than the explosion of the nuclear bombs.

She feels the water fall from her eyes. Please stop. Don't hurt him.

This was all her fault.

He shouldn't have to pay for her mistake. Don't hurt him, he's been through enough.

After the eighth agony filled blow he took, he fell into the black of an oblivion. He couldn't take it any longer, he couldn't bare it anymore. Maybe when he woke, everything would be okay.

Ring Master delivered one last swipe to him, then another only for the feel of it even after he was responding. This is what he gets for speaking, for leaving her, for falling in love with someone else! He gets to feel how she does inside.

Eventually, Marceline was out cold as well, hurled into a darkness full of screams, blood, and the loss of life from the few she loved

What a horrible thing to do- to drag another along with one into a deep dark abyss of no return.

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me

Lying on the floor, surrounded, surrounded

There were some many things she regretted, so many people she let down. She's been doing that for one thousand years, and six months going on seven. There were so many things she wishes she could forget about, so many things she wishes she could go back to, and things she could correct. But the world is an unforgiving place which is only the truth when it came to eternity.

Now that she was confronted with death, she can see what a horrible undead life she's been leading. All that resulted was for her to come to an abrupt stop right here with the Last Human.

It was so typical. That's how the universe works- it puts the Lion and the Lamb together and expects the lamb gone on the hour. What it doesn't expect, is the Lion cuddling it up with that injured Lamb over there on a couch, in a cloak, inside a crumbling house.

The universe could never predict the Lion and the Lamb to be this way around each other.

Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you?

The next night, he wakes first as always, a different kind of tradition. He's not in his prison, why was he left here still breathing?

He's still tied to the poles. He's still in pain; but tomorrow is today, and it was already more than he hoped for.

"Marceline," He croaks out, now struggling with the binds still around his worn raw wrists. He takes in a breath through his teeth when blood breaks through the fragile skin at his hand.

Today, he feels better and worse. On the outside he's in distress; shredded tissue at his wrists, open gashes on his hand, and long, twisted, burning slashes where she gouged out his last shred of humanity on his back.

She stirs slightly, eyes flicking to life, "Finn?" She moans, dropping her head on the ground where it rests for a moment or so. "You alive?"

Her voice was like warmth to his soul, relief spearing through him like Summer's sunlight.

He coughs, "I think so," gasping slightly in shock, his voice of whole was back in action and not failing on him when he needed it. "You still sorts dead?"

She hums a note, "Maybe, got a wooden stake?"

He spots the two poles on either side of him, "Yeah."

Slowly, she sits up looking around for any sort of hazard willing to put his life in jeopardy. All seemed well at first until her gaze met what his couldn't.

What a stroke of luck it was for him to not be able to see his own back. The bloody hell was all over his skin, read blotchy liquid splattered all over the ground behind him and on the back of his pants. It was as if someone just mauled him to pieces. Was this what it was always like? Could she ever bring herself to ask?

Her nose twitches with the delicious smell of the iron in his… blood. It was literally glowing against his pale-ish skin, crusting as it dried everywhere is lay. Why was it always so hard for her around blood?

"H-how are you?" She asks, ripping her gaze from his massacre of a body.

He manages a shrug, "Same," He hisses in another breath through his mouth when the skin on his back pulls, "Rope," He whispers, careful not to shout.

She has an OH moment, and floats gently over to his place on the ground. His eyes should have a dead look in them, yet instead they're calm, almost cheerful. They hold a tender smile his mouth could not perform from biting his lip so hard.

Cautiously, she unbuckles both ropes from each hand, both falling on some place of the ground in exhaustion.

"Finn," She breathes, "I think we need to go to Doctor Princess," She shoves the hair out of his eyes so she can see them clearly, "And find a barber."

His unguarded eyes flatter when she touches him, "Leave," He suddenly says with some kind of wonder, "We can leave." He looks over her shoulder for someone, but no one is there for him to see.

She gives him a puzzled look, "Why's that so amazing about it?"

He only shakes his head with disbelief, "She gave up," He bows his head in either shame, or skepticism.

"Yeah, I kinda kicked her ass back there," She smiles majestically, white spiked teeth shining brightly against her pitch black locks.

He looks at her like she was crazy, "Because I love you," What a dumb thing to do- just come right out and say it? He's getting braver by the day, or he's just still if-y on the definition of Love.

Her smirk dulled to like a failing lamp, she searched every inch of his face for proof he was lying. Why would he say he loved her? "That doesn't make sense."

She could see his ribs clearly of how skinny he was, if he were any paler she might've been able to compare. His ocean blue eyes glinted in the artificial light playfully. This was him trusting her. "I love you."

Those three words were a blow to the chest for two reasons.

One- She's been waiting for someone, anyone to say them to her (which is what you call desperation, by the way). It's was because she felt unloved, probably for the reason she scared off everyone.

Two- the last person to ever said that to her, was her mom. And must she remind you, her mom died up to ONE THOUSAND years ago?

At that moment, she was very close to crying her eyes out. "I love you too, Finn," That was the truth.

It's always the universe's fault when the Lion falls for the Lamb.

Where was that Lamb all this time, hiding?

Just a little late, you found me, you found me.

He's not sure why he needs her, doesn't know why he wants her so badly. All he's sure of, is that she needs him.

He was better now on the inside, he was going to be braver.

Because once you've hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up.

Why'd you have to wait, to find me, to find me?

Hurray! I worked about 15 hours on this chapter. C'mon, be proud, SIX TOUSAND WORDS #$%&! That rocks my socks off.

Oh, and I got a devianart account now! I am TheMasterHama there and there's a link in my profile here.

Song Topics:

-Love

-Fear

-Angst

-Romance

-Okay look I need a lot of angst and love for the next chapter, and some pain in the mix, too.

Thanks!

~The MasterHama