Officially AU, technically, as of Stakes, but I will certainly try to keep characterization and plot aligned with my original intent and series canon as much as possible. Have a long one and enjoy.
Bonnibel nearly flies out of her shoes when Marceline places a hand upon her shoulder.
"Whoa, Bonnie. You have got to chill out. We're fine."
Bonnie sighs. She's been on edge since they made it out into the grasslands. A wide, open expanse unveiled itself to them a few hours into the night. Breaking through the last of the foliage, Marceline had stepped out first. Bonnibel followed cautiously. She had been rarely permitted to encroach upon this territory by the humans she resided with before. Open land was dangerous, and Bonnibel, no matter how old she got, had still been small; still a girl to them. Only a few select men and women were allowed to enter these premises for supply ventures only. Now, with her human tribe gone, Bonnibel is breaking the rules, albeit with Marceline by her side.
To be honest, when the vampire rests her grey hand upon Bonibel's shoulder, she feels so much less trepidation than what she normally would. Marceline is crazy strong. And she is here to protect Bonnibel. Suddenly the valley doesn't seem so frightening. Living the last few months with Marceline's company has been serene for Bonnibel. Isolation was a lonely place. Marceline herself is unlike the humans Bonnie is used to. The vampire is strange, by their standards. But Bonnibel is not, and never has been human either. There were some aspects to their species that baffled her. She has decided that thus far, she quite enjoys Marceline's company more, and is thrilled that they get along so famously. The odds of that, Bonnie decides, are one of those scientific probabilities so low that she mustn't let her brain dwell too much on, or she'll go banaynays.
The calm stillness of the evening echoes silent. Their footsteps are the only penetrating noise. Looking up, Bonnibel is not hindered by any trees and the stars present themselves to the two travelers. She gasps. The night has never revealed itself to her like this in a very, very long time.
Marceline is keeping her senses watchful, balancing them between their surroundings and Bonnibel. She is watching the other girl watch the skies. Every few seconds Bonnie tears herself from the display and tenses, looking about to see if everything is alright.
"It's okay, you know," Marceline says. "Everything is mostly asleep. I should know," she grumbles. "Pretty hard trying to catch food when everyone is hunkered down for the night."
Bonnibel shoots her a reassuring smile. "Not that you have to do that anymore, remember?" She states.
The corner of Marceline's mouth quirks up as she feels the drudging weight of murderous starvation dissolve. Bonnibel had a knack at making that happen – to pull things out from inside of Marceline and leaving them to dissipate into nothingness; unable to hurt her anymore. It wasn't like that in the Night with her father, or when Simon left her. Hambo couldn't do that for her either. Instead, such things would run amuck in a dirty circle, gaining momentum, never stopping until sleep took Marceline. Then she would awaken, and eventually, after a few hours, or even a few minutes, they would return. She couldn't find a way to relieve herself. Bonnie had a weird way of making it better. It didn't always stick, but the more she did it, the more it took hold.
Sometimes Marceline wants to tell Bonnibel these things, but she can't possibly see how she would be able to form the right words to make the other girl understand, or that it would even matter to her.
Pushing the odd feeling aside, Marceline resolves that it's alright. She's happy Bonnie has that effect on her, and that should be good enough in its own right.
They've been walking for three solid hours since breaking out of the forest. Mostly through valleys and fields mingled with the occasional tree line. Nothing too dense.
Marceline focuses her attention directly out into the distance. It's been a very long time since she's roamed this section of the land. Before she died. Her memory is more than fuzzy and she has no idea what's changed since then.
"Do you know how far it is to the town?" she asks.
Bonnibel huffs. Marceline can see she is getting tired.
"I remember the scouts used to be gone around five days. I'd say we should make it sometime later tomorrow. I think I need to crash soon."
Biting her lip, Marceline surveys the area. The nearest treeline is way off in a completely different direction.
"I know you're tired, but can we wait until we hit a good chunk of trees?" she asks, fiddling with her hands. "I don't think it's a good idea to sleep somewhere so exposed, and I know I have a sweater and an umbrella but I'm kind of… weirded out waking up in direct sunlight."
Scared. Marceline is scared to wake up in the sunlight. She could move her sweater hood in the wrong direction, or her umbrella could blow away. She can't.
Bonnibel's tired smile relieves Marceline of most of guilt she had about asking her to move on.
"Yeah, don't worry, I'm not stupid enough to sleep out here."
"We should have made camp before taking off from the woods. I just thought with everything sleeping, and not having to worry about protecting myself from the sun if anything did happen to spot us crossing, it would be easier. I'm sorry."
"It's cool, Marceline," Bonnie assures her, "It's logically sound. Besides, we're on an adventure. I have a bucket list, and being physically exhausted can now officially be checked off. It's right above 'return home smelling like a cyclops foot'."
Marceline can't help but throw her head back and let out a quick laugh. "Ha! I'm sure it would take like, sleeping in the middle of a swamp to rid you of that nice, bubblegummy scent you've got goin' on."
The moment that sentence slips out of her mouth, she watches Bonnibel's gaze quickly divert to the sky – her bottom lip sucked between her teeth, and Marceline is intensely aware of a peculiar feeling in her gut. She doesn't like it.
This is not the first time Marceline has made a passive remark about Bonnie's unique physical structure. She was indeed, comprised mostly of bubblegum. This was, however - Marceline realizes - the first time she's turned it into a compliment. She hadn't really meant to do it. But it wasn't untrue either.
Was it inappropriate to tell someone that they smelled good?
After a beat of silence that feels like it drags on forever, Bonnibel turns back to Marceline.
"The humans used to call me that, you know? Bubblegum," she says, with a bit of a dreamy smile, that lets Marceline know she's thinking of good things and the tense feeling fades off.
"One of the older ladies named me Bonnibel after they first found me when I was still relatively young. Said I reeked like candy. I didn't know what that meant. Neither did most of the people who lived there. They knew I was different and I've always inherently known what I was, I just never knew the right word they used for it until one day some scouts came back. Gum lasts for a very long time, and they had brought some back. Most of the generations I lived with had never tried it before, growing up after the Mushroom War. I guess a few of them had tried mint gum before. It had been a little more common a generation or two back. It wasn't really an item of necessity, but I guess pilfering was getting scarce and it was something they happened to stumble upon, and I immediately went to it. I just knew it was part of what I was, and when I asked them what it was called, I told them that. This is what I am.
They found it shockingly bizarre, but started calling me that often enough. It was out of endearment. I think they liked me. I helped them when people got hurt and they used to bring me back books because they knew I was an information sponge. Even though it was extra weight. It's where all my textbooks came from. One time, one of the kids even asked if it was possible to chew on some of my hair."
Again, Marceline finds her head thrown back with raucous laughter, grasping at her gut at the same time.
"Oh, my Glob. That is hilarious. Wait? So is that a thing? Your hair? Is it like chewy gum?"
Bonnibel beams at her. "Man, it totally is!"
"Ha!"
"I had no idea, but I figured if he was willing to put a chunk of my hair in his mouth, then I was all for an experiment. I randomly lose tiny bits and pieces of it anyway if it snags in the woods. Didn't bother me to rip a little piece off for him."
"That's too funny," Marceline remarks. She absently adjusts the heavy pack on her back; a slightly unnecessary gesture, before she speaks up again.
"Your uh, nickname has a pretty good ring to it though; Bonnibel Bubblegum. …I like it."
Bonnibel mirrors Marceline's actions in pulling her own backpack tight.
"Thanks." It's a little quieter than her usual tone of voice, but it is sincere.
This time, Marceline is the one to keep the flow of the conversation quick and seamless.
"I actually do remember that stuff though. I used to eat it when I was a kid."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Only for a bit though. I remember my mom telling me to be super careful with it. She said it would taste really good, but if I wasn't careful, I could easily choke."
Marceline finds herself being drawn back into memories. Her mother handing her a piece of gum, feeling the first few bites drawing the irresistible sugar out to envelope her tongue and slide effortlessly down her throat. Slipping into a paradox of needing to keep the sweet flavour in her mouth encased as long as possible and the urge to swallow it whole. With each proceeding bite, the intensity of the flavour slowly dripped away. The familiar scent carries on into hazy, fever induced memories of being with Simon. Marceline being riddled with sickness with Simon carrying her in a frantic frenzy. Always moving. Why couldn't she just sleep? Oh yes, the Oozers. And Simon, placing the crown atop his head and disappearing far away from himself. And then there's that intoxicating, familiar scent again. Safeness in that smell. A can of welcomed food is pushed into Marceline's hands and even the can itself smells of the sticky sweetness. That day when her fever pushed her to her limits, trapped in the drawl landscape of a broken city, Marceline remembers something bright and pink.
At the sudden triggering of the recollections, Marceline feels a sense of connectivity fall seamlessly into place, but she cannot grasp at it. The memory of her fever is too fragmented and broken to make anything out of it. She has the strange urge to ask Bonnibel if she remembers her. But that too, has no valid reasoning behind it. Bonnibel is thirty-one. Marceline is over two hundred.
Before either of them can say anything more, out of sheer reflex, Marceline swings her arm out to halt Bonnibel's movements. The other girl bumps into the stiffened limb and recoils back.
"Marceline, what are you –"
"There's something here."
Bonnibel immediately tenses, allowing Marceline's arm to come back and shuffle Bonnie behind her. Not that it makes much of a difference. They're exposed in every direction. Oddly, illogically, Bonnie feels safer tucked against Marceline's back.
There's nothing Marceline can see outright. The wind blows against their faces, leaving her to take a big, long inhalation. Nothing. She suspected as much. She's lived long enough hunting food to know not to linger upwind from prey. There is something though. She can sense it. Way more intensely that she ever could with her human half intact. Feeling Bonnie breathing heavily behind her, she turns them slowly, examining each direction. And when they reach around about halfway, the wind picks up and gives a quick wisp in the opposite direction.
Ah, there it is.
Marceline still can't see it, but she knows whatever it is, is rather large. There are a few scattered trees in the direction she's sensing its presence. Not enough for them to have strayed to make camp. Too far off to be convenient, and not nearly dense enough, but it's giving cover for something.
"Turn back around and keep walking the way we need to go," Marceline instructs.
Bonnibel reaches for the rusty hatchet tucked in her belt but is hesitant to move forward, though Marceline encourages her to do so. "It's behind us. Don't worry, I'll watch out for it."
With a deep exhalation, Bonnie presses forward. "So, we're safe then?"
"Hmm? Oh, no. It totally knows we're here."
"What?!" Bonnibel whispers harshly, halting her movements, to which Marceline gently pushes her along.
"Well, we have to go somewhere. The further we head the way we need to go, the more likely it is to leave the cover of those trees it's creeping behind."
"Well, maybe it doesn't even want to eat us," Bonnibel says, hopefully.
"Oh, it definitely wants to eat us."
Bonnie's blood runs cold, and her body suddenly begins to overload with adrenaline, almost to the point of panic. How is Marceline being so calm? Why is she so calm? With the humans she lived with, something like this was a very big deal. Extremely dangerous, especially with only two people. Especially in the pitch black. It's making her upset and angry.
"How do you even know that? How are you supposed to do anything when you can't even see it?" Bonnibel scolds her in a low whisper.
Marceline is a taken back by the tone. Maybe Bonnibel's trust in her is not as strong as she thought it was. Then again, why would it be? They've never been in any sort of life and death situation before, aside from their first meeting. Marceline had trusted Simon to protect her, and he did, but then he left her to fend for herself. Bonnibel had trusted in the humans, and they died out. Leaving her alone as well. Marceline was used to wandering alone. Bonnie was not. She stayed put, used what she had and what was nearby.
"I know it's not friendly because I can just…tell," Marceline offers. She knows it's a feeble answer, but she has no better explanation. "Don't you ever get that? When you know when someone means you harm or not? You just kind of, know. You know?"
"Sort of…" Bonnibel mumbles, pressing forward slowly. She likes when things come together in rational, scientific reasoning, but recalling their months together, and especially now, it appears Marceline does not run off such things nearly as much as Bonnie does.
"It's…I can smell it. I can smell it but I can also smell its intentions. I know that doesn't make sense, but that's what it is," Marceline tries to explain further. She doesn't understand it herself, but she knows it's right. She wants Bonnie to trust her and she knows she needs tangible things to do that, but it's the best she's got.
"Animals do that," Bonnibel offers. The tone in her voice a bit more steady. She's been given something about Marceline's explanation in a relative and associative manner that has been governed with past scientific study that she has both read and observed. In addition, if that is what Marceline runs off of, it also means that she trusts Bonnibel as well.
"Oh, also, I can see perfectly in the dark. Just so you know."
To Marceline's surprise, Bonnie lets out a sigh, laced with a bit of laughter.
"Could have told me that."
"Sorry, slipped my mind. Oh! There it is."
Bonnie spins and freezes on the spot, hatchet at the ready.
"I can't see anything. This is freaking me out."
Pulling the axe she dragged from the depths of the Nightosphere from behind her, Marceline urges Bonnie to keep moving – to keep the thing from realizing they know it's there. Marceline has been paying attention to it while keeping their conversation flowing, trying to keep Bonnibel calm. Its scent kept parallel with them until it had to part from the trees, to which it steadily began to move closer and into view. The grass wasn't long, it had just been too far away for Marceline to get a good view of it until now.
"What should we be doing about this?" Bonnibel whispers to her, continuing to look back every other second. Camp life has always been Bonnibel's forte. Building, repairing, cooking, healing, learning, innovating. All these things, she was primo at. Beasts and self defense, not so much. She is realizing now, that the segregation the humans imposed on them is hitting her full force. She is not equipped physically, mentally, and thus tactfully, to deal with this. This will need to be remedied in the immediate future. Because Bonnibel simply cannot stand being susceptible due to a particular lack of skill and knowledge. And some part of her is boiling at the thought that her tribe, and humans themselves, had gone on for generations in such a foolish manner.
Marceline is constantly and discreetly keeping her eye on the creature. "Well, I don't really feel like going to sleep knowing that thing is stalking us, sooooo, like, I'm thinking wait for it to get close enough that I can actually get a good swing at it."
"What? That's your plan?"
She doesn't want to let Bonnie know that despite her speed, the thing is probably faster than her. It has four legs. It's a predator. On her own, she could probably outwit it in a more useful manner, but Bonnibel is here, and Marceline needs to be in her vicinity at all times. Unless…
"Well, I can use you as bait to get the one up on it, but I'm guessing you don't want to do that." Truthfully, she doesn't want to do that either. But Bonnibel enjoys exhausting options. Marceline needs her to be agreeable.
"No, thank you."
"Didn't think so."
Before Marceline can slip out anything reassuring, she watches as the beast speeds forward. Not the whole way, it's too far, but close enough; just behind a rock they'd just walked by a few minutes ago. Nothing big enough for the both of them to hide behind, but for this thing, pressed against the ground, assuming they couldn't see it, yeah, it was a pretty alright sneaking boulder.
"It's behind that rock we just passed," Marceline whispers.
"What! I thought you said it was far off!"
"Shhhh! It was, then it decided to you know, not be far away. Keep walking."
Bonnibel hesitantly does as she is instructed. Marceline knows she needs to draw this thing out, not so it's close, just so she can have a visual on it. She knows Bonnie is terrified, and it is only just hitting her, with the predator at such a finite distance away, that Marceline is actually scared too. Not for herself. She's been a little scared for herself before. But, not really. When Simon left, after a while, it seemed like if she didn't make it, then hey, would that really be so bad? Besides, Marceline can take care of herself when it came to physical combat. More so now after rigorous training sessions in the Nightosphere. But Bonnibel doesn't have that. Marceline then registers that she is not scared for herself, she is scared for Bonnibel. Right now, it was up to her to do what Simon and her mother did for her, except she would do it properly. Marceline wouldn't die of war sickness like her mother because she couldn't. And she wouldn't leave Bonnie like Simon left her, because after feeling what it was like to have someone who she cared for leave her, she would never.
The moment the beast comes out from behind the rock, Marceline knows she has to act fast. Judging on its distance and how it had to slow after a short stint, she has maybe two minutes before it stops stalking and breaks out into a run. It is big, as she suspected. But built for speed, not distance. Apart from its muscled body coated in long, thin strands of fur, she can spot a bunched up snout with long teeth pulsing up and down with its heaving breaths. Thinks it's getting food. Funny, but no.
Grabbing Bonnibel and dragging them both into a crouching position, Marceline whispers to her, "I need a distraction, like, pretty quick."
There's panic in Marceline's voice that registers instantly with Bonnie and it takes her all of half a second before she's grasping at flower stems and the few pieces of long, beige grains sticking up from the mostly level field. They're tied together into loops with precise dexterity. She does this three times in a record twenty seconds before taking a large stick and placing it through each of the loops, which dangle off awkwardly. Before Marceline can ask what kind of crazy she's got going on, Bonnie begins to stuff the gaps between the loops and the stick with an abundance of dry leaves, twigs, and grass that sit in abundance on the valley floor.
Marceline can't even register what's happened before Bonnibel is thrusting a perfectly prepped torch into her hands; the stick long enough for her to hold, and a nice big, pile of nature's dry floor ready to be burned, latched firmly in place to the stick with healthier, more water dense loops holding them in place.
"Holy shit, Bon."
"This won't hold for very long. It will probably fall apart and burn you," Bonnie says, reaching into her back pocket for her small satchel of flint and striking stones she brought with them to make a campfire.
After years of practice with fires, Bonnibel sparks a flame in three strikes, and they each blow on it to give it life. Within seconds, the dry tinder is ablaze.
"Stay here," Marceline instructs, trudging off in a direction that is away from Bonnibel, but leaves room for the creature to recognise that she would be a closer, more obvious target.
She can see the creature halt in its tracks and follow her with its eyes. Pursing her lips out, Marceline lets out a whistle and waves the flame around. It still hasn't moved. Worried, Marceline moves slowly, but the creature's attention is diverted back to its original intent. The second it pulls its gaze away from Marceline, she knows there is a problem and that she underestimated it.
She breaks off into a run towards it.
Bonnibel is crouched, unable to move, or do anything except watch the receding flame of Marceline's torch send the other girl further and further away. Without being able to see, she can't get a handle on her surroundings and it is by far the most frightening feeling she has ever experienced. Without warning, Bonnibel hears the furious movement of grass shuffling and feet on ground. She has no idea if it is Marceline or whatever it is that's out there, but before she can move to get up and run, she sees the torch land in front of her just in time for the fire to illuminate the hideous and hungry face about to devour her, derailed by the flame just long enough for Marceline to throw her body into it and tackle it to the ground.
Beyond thinking before acting, Marceline barely registers that she's pinned the beast and slammed her axe into its skull – four times, and she's left panting, tongue coming out to lap the blood off her lips and chin, after months of feeding off colour, and it tastes so good.
Bonnibel hesitantly makes her way over, hatchet grasped white-knuckled to her chest, the receding flames on the ground lighting the bloodbath around them. Marceline relaxes somewhat when she sees her. Glancing dazed to the dead creature below her, and then to Bonnibel's horrified and perplexed face, the urge to drain the rest of the warm blood going to waste recedes, and Marceline settles for sinking down to suck the amber-red hue of the creature's fur instead.
After the danger subsides, Marceline becomes acutely aware of a surreal pulsing feeling within her. After doubling, and triple checking the sensation, she comes to the conclusion that her heart is beating.
A human reflex, most likely. Reflexes; Bonnibel has mentioned those. This seems likely.
It fades as they take off and search for shelter.
"Are you sure you don't want to go back tomorrow?" Marceline asks, for the third time that night.
Bonnibel sighs, and tugs the rope tight to the tree branch.
"Yes, I'm sure. Look, tonight was mega freaky. I'm still all jittery. It was a scary experience, but I can't just stay cooped up in the cabin for the rest of my life. Are you scared? You seem a little freaked too."
Moving to loop the rope through the tarp holes, Marceline cannot meet Bonnibel's gaze.
"Dude, I was scared for you. I told you I would protect you and that thing almost got you."
"Exactly! I was useless, and an unnecessary burden."
"What? Bonnie, no." Marceline almost drops the tarp, but grabs it at the last second.
"Yes, Marceline. I am not equipped for this type of life situation, and I need to be. I can't rely on you to be here for me forever."
"You made me a torch…"
"Probably wouldn't have had to if we made a better stealth team."
Marceline cannot argue that. And she likes the sound of 'team'.
After her side of the tarp is tied, Bonnie slumps her shoulders forward, careful to keep her balance on the wide branch she's situated on. "Look, I can't say that a big part of me doesn't want to go back, but, our house is falling apart. And I want to be able to fix it. You said you want to be useful, yes?"
Marceline does not answer her. She keeps fastening her side of the tarp. She knows where this is going.
Bonnibel continues, "Well, so do I. I got angry at you back there simply because I was afraid. And I don't want to be afraid to leave my cozy, little territory. I know it's a lot to ask for you to help me with that…but…I am asking."
Marceline does not look at her. Both sides are secure now. She does not want to help Bonnibel with this because that means putting her in harm's way. At the same time, she knows she never would have gained what abilities she has had not been put in the same situations. Maybe some good did come out of being abandoned. At least, with Marceline there, Bonnie wouldn't be alone in the endeavor. That was cool, right? Ugh, it still feels nasty. But what else can she say?
"Okay. You're right…" Marceline relents.
"Thank you," Bonnie exhales with what seems to be relief. "…Are you sure this is going to hold?"
Hold? Marceline snaps out of her trance to inspect their tarp - stretched out between two thick branches elevated about ten feet high upon a single tree. Marceline had scoped out the trees in the area after they had crossed the field in a hurry on their leftover adrenaline and picked this one out specifically.
"Oh, yeah. It's good. I used to do this all the time when there were lots of Oozers in an area. Most of them couldn't climb. You're good. Try it out," she says with a grin. Hammocks were her favourite.
Bonnie rolls off the branch and into the suspended tarp, feeling it give way just a little bit. Marceline can see the bit of panic before Bonnie settles into it.
"Oh, wow, this is legit comfy."
"I know, right?"
Moving into a comfortable position, and grabbing the blanket Marceline hands to her, she wonders aloud, "Where are you going to sleep?"
Marceline gives her a weary grin. "Just chill, I know you're still a little freaked out. I'll keep watch. I super promise it's unnecessary, nothin' will get you. I wake up to weird smells in my sleep all the time, so I know when something comes 'round."
"But you need sleep, vampire or not," Bonnibel insists.
She is rewarded with a nonchalant shrug. "I'll wake you just before dawn. I'll take a few hours then. You can make sure I don't get scorched, cool?"
Bonnie seems a little miffed, but in a way that makes Marceline happy. Eventually, the other girl nods, and flops down, exhausted.
"Yeah, okay. But wake me up. For reals, Marceline."
"Yeah, I will Bon."
There's about fifteen minutes where Marceline watches Bonnibel twist and turn in the hammock they've secured. She's put off saying anything for fear of disrupting Bonnie's attempts at sleep, but her impatient huffing and puffing doesn't leave Marceline without much option.
"You okay?"
Bonnie leans up on one elbow. "No. Guess not. Thought I was. It's stupid…"
Marceline can barely remember her days and nights in between when she had her mother and when she had Simon, but they definitely existed, and they were definitely frightening. The days when Simon first left are more pronounced. They were just as bad.
Reaching into her backpack, Marceline pulls out her teddy bear.
"It's not stupid. You wanna snuggle Hambo? He's been a pretty good cuddle pal to me for forevs."
This sort of thing does not appeal, nor make sense to Bonnibel, but seeing the way Marceline has looked at that stuffed animal, and the care she handles it with, leads her to a more agreeable manner and she reluctantly accepts the ragged thing, clutching it to her with nearly all her might.
Five minutes in.
It doesn't help. Just keeps Bonnibel from digging her nails into her own palms.
"…Would be more effective if Hambo were big enough to be around me, I suppose," Bonnie grumbles, more than frustrated at her insomnia than anything. There is no way she will be able to travel if she can't sleep. This was neither part of their plan, not is it conductive to it. It should be something she is able to overcome, but it's not. She's ashamed it's such a problem.
Marceline's mouth doesn't shut itself fast enough.
"I'm big enough."
Crickets have honestly, never been louder.
"…Yeah, okay. Can we face the tree? Make sure we catch if something comes up."
It takes Marceline a good, few seconds to register that her offer has actually been accepted. The offer that Marceline has zero idea why she blurted out in the first place.
"Yeah, sure, that's cool, makes sense…" she fades off, crawling amongst the branches to slip in behind Bonnibel.
Once Marceline flops down into the makeshift bed, she realizes that there is absolutely nowhere to put her hands. They're both shuffling and adjusting. Glob, she did not think this through. A bout of panic begins to rise in her chest before Bonnibel lifts her head and pulls Marceline's bottom arm to settle under her neck as a pillow, leaving her head to rest just under Marceline's chin.
Her other arm and her hips certainly are not relaxed so Marceline is left with no other option but to gingerly tilt her body and wrap her other arm around both Bonnibel and Hambo, grasping on and linking hands with herself to enclose all three of them.
At once, she feels Bonnie inhale deeply and melt down.
"…You…good?"
"Mmhh, think so."
"It's…better?"
"…Yeah."
"Okay. Goodnight."
"Night."
Marceline can sleep like this. She wants to sleep like this, but her body is doing something bizarre, and suddenly the adrenaline is back, but she has no idea why. They are perfectly safe here, and she's so comfy. Why would that feeling be back?
And then it happens again. The pulsing.
Her heart is beating again.
Bonnie is snoring and Marceline's heart is beating and it takes forever to actually sleep, because she is acutely aware of every single second that passes and every single inhalation and exhalation that the two of them share in sync, but finally, just before dawn, Marceline can't help but give in and passes out.