Chapter 32 - Marceline (Originally Published: 11 March 2016)

Marceline drifted into consciousness with a sense of urgency and alarm. Sleep still held its vice grip around her, but she was vaguely aware of her immediate surroundings. Where was Phoebe? She had fallen asleep with her girlfriend nestled into her, but now she was alone. Panicked and desperate to wake the rest of her body, Marceline thrashed about, but it came to no avail. She felt weak, trapped under the weight of a long slumber. Even the slight, sluggish movement of her arms seemed to be almost dreamlike, as if they were detached from her corporeal being.

The panic never subsided, only grew with time - how long had it been? Marceline was sure she'd been stuck in this hell for a lifetime. Adrenaline warred against her unconscious state, trying to spur her memory to recall a time when she hadn't been abandoned, hadn't been scared, but there was nothing but darkness there to greet her in this dream. Suddenly, something cool, soft, and familiar slipped into her hand, lacing between her fingers, and an enjoyable warmth immediately washed over her, calming her in an instant. For a few blissful moments, she could not even remember what it had been that tore her out of her peaceful rest in the first place. However, the monstrous roar of her assailant crashed against her false sense of security, and she was reminded ever so quickly of the demon she'd been hiding from.

"Shhh. I'm right here." The speaker guided her hand up to soft lips, leaving a gentle kiss against each of her knuckles.

Marceline hadn't heard herself call out, but in this dream world she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that the voice meant safety and warmth, and that she had to get closer to it. When she instinctively rolled over, a sharp, agonising pain shot through her body, numbing her mind and making her feel as though she would purge the contents of her stomach all at the same time. Her mind latched onto that sensation and with a final push she was able to jerk awake.

She sat up quickly, grabbing her side. The pain was an unbearable stabbing that seemed to sear every nerve in her body. Every movement made her brain pound against the confines of her skull, made her stomach revolt, and made her eyes feel as though they might pop right out of her head. Sitting still for a long time was the only remedy, yet even in this statue-like pose, the suffering persisted for an unforgiving length of time.

When the intensity of her pain finally waned, she blinked away the foggy curtain of tears. Only one of her eyes appeared to have the capacity for vision at this time. The other was a thin sliver of blurred colours. Marceline looked around, trying to assess her surroundings as the chaos in her head subsided.

She was in her own room, which had once again become a disarrayed mess - neglected due to her lack of mobility. Clothes were strewn about, and empty takeaway containers lay discarded on the floor next to her bed. Simon's television set - which had once occupied the lounge - was now perched on top of her desk, hooked up to an old DVD player. Her memories were clouded, but she was sure that the rearrangement hadn't been her own idea.

Phoebe was sitting on the bed with her, eyes wide and full of concern; Marceline must have startled her with all the commotion. Outside, rain beat heavily against the window pane. That was just her luck - a bad storm to top the already shitty day she'd woken up to. At least she had Phoebe.

Marceline slowly scooted closer to her, wincing with each slight twist and turn. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" she asked, tenderly pressing a kiss to the other girl's temple. Her voice was hoarse from disuse. How long had she been asleep?

"You didn't." Phoebe took her face gingerly in her hands. They were cold, not providing the usual sense of comfort that they'd always had. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just sore." Marceline smiled weakly. In truth, her physical ailments were torture. Even with the pain medication she'd been prescribed, every molecule in her body hurt like hell. The scorching baths she'd taken to soothe the aches in her joints only dulled the pain for a short while, but that was nothing in comparison to her growing worries.

Phoebe had come down with her own set of physical ailments as of late: an illness, mostly attributed to dizzy spells and bouts of insomnia that were worse than her usual. Whether these symptoms were due to stress or to the weather, it was clear that pretending it wasn't there was ineffective. Marceline could sense that her girlfriend was getting weaker by the day. Regardless of her own affliction, Phoebe continued to take care of her - sacrificing every spare moment she had for her injured lover's sake.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked, hoping to shake her mind free from the cloud of pessimistic thoughts that had settled over her.

Phoebe closed the book that Marceline hadn't yet noticed in her lap and set it aside. Then she curled up on the pillow, urging Marceline to lay back down. "You've been sleeping on and off for the past day or so. It's around one in the morning now. I have school in seven hours."

Marceline rested her head against the pillow, moving carefully so as not to harm herself any more in the process. "Don't you mean we?"

Phoebe traced her features with a finger, avoiding the cut that had split both of her lips clean open. "Do you really think I'm going to let you go out like this?" She frowned. "On second thought, I should stay home with you. You're going to need help getting around, and I'm certainly not going to let you cook for yourself after that last incident."

"I'm not going to stop going about my day just because Ash and his friends used me as a punching bag." Her jaw tightened. Thinking about them caused the blood in her veins to pump harder. "That would be letting them win, and I'm not about to let that happen."

Phoebe laughed - a beautiful sound, yet somehow tinged with sadness - and the rare auditory gift made Marceline's insides flutter. "Of course not. You're strong-willed and fearless. That may be one of my favourite things about you, Marceline... but just this once, please listen to reason."

She hummed, an impish grin playing over her face. Between the two of them, it was impossible to tell who was more stubborn, but Phoebe did have a hard time saying no to her - especially when she pushed the right buttons.

"What are you- uhnn."

Marceline grinned. Her tongue traced little circles over the pulse point in Phoebe's neck, eliciting a quiet moan in return - half in protest, half in pleasure.

"That's not- mmm... going to work this ti- nng, fuck!" Phoebe grabbed her hand, holding it away from where it'd slithered off to. Marceline had effortlessly made her a mess in such a short time, but Phoebe wasn't having it. "Not right now."

Marceline retracted her hand immediately. "I'm sorry." The words came out as sheepish and as shameful as she felt at the unexpected rejection.

Phoebe looked into her eyes, and to Marceline's relief there were no signs of resentment on her face. "It's okay. Believe me, I want to. Now may not be the best time though. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself in the process."

"That's a good point-"

"Also, you're stinky."

"What?! I am not!" Marceline sniffed her shirt, dismayed to admit that her girlfriend was right. "Okay, maybe a little bit. I guess I should take a shower or something then."

"I believe a shower is out of the question at the moment," Phoebe said, helping her to sit up.

She cried out, briefly paralysed by the discomfort that shot through her body.

Marceline was thankful that it only really happened when she shifted from a reclined position to a sitting one, but even so it still took several tense minutes before she was able to freely move around again. Feeling weak and helpless, she took her girlfriend's proffered assistance and shuffled off to the bathroom.

Phoebe made her wait while she filled the tub, likely due to the storm still raging on outside. "Are you certain you still want to go to school today?"

"I hate being cooped up, Pheebs. You know that." Marceline struggled to remove her clothes with minimal movement. She had to grit her teeth, not wanting to outwardly project how painful it was. "Besides, I'll fall behind if I don't go. School isn't really my best subject."

Phoebe turned the water off and motioned for her to get in. "Very well. Just promise me you'll go to the nurse if it gets to be too unbearable. I'll have Daddy come pick you up if the need arises."

"I promise." Marceline held her hand for balance as she descended into the steaming water. Truth be told, the prospect of being alone with her girlfriend's father was more than enough to keep her from leaving school early.

She'd been expecting Phoebe to leave her alone in the bath - just as she'd done earlier, disappearing to the other room to try to tidy up around the house - so when the other girl exited the bathroom, it was nothing noteworthy. However, she returned after a minute toting a fresh hand towel and a large plastic drinking cup.

Marceline watched as Phoebe soaked the cloth thoroughly before squirting a liberal amount of body wash onto it (some kind of floral scented soap-lotion mixture - Phoebe's own, Marceline usually just used a bar). She then sat on the edge of the tub and carefully scrubbed Marceline with the cool liquid until she was sudsy all over. Even though a few times Phoebe's hand went over a particularly sensitive bruise, being bathed by another person was immensely relaxing. Marceline thought that she could doze off like this, but she wasn't tired so much as she was comfortable.

Satisfied with her job, Phoebe scooped up some of the water in the cup she'd procured and rinsed away the soap. "Just so you're aware, I'm not going to wash your hair right now." She eyed the injury in Marceline's head, her smile falling slightly. "Your stitches are still fresh, and I don't want to aggravate them or hinder the healing process with unintentional snagging or dirty water. Maybe if it weren't still storming we could run the tap again, but as things stand this will have to do."

Marceline listened intently to the rioting of the sky outside the walls, taken aback. She had completely forgotten about the storm. Once it had been a crippling reminder of her losses, but with Phoebe it had simply faded into background noise. This mere girl had somehow managed to accomplish what years of therapy could not. Perhaps it was only a situational thing - being ignorant to the crashing of thunder outside her house - but there was no denying that Phoebe made her feel safe. She wanted to tell her what that meant, tell her how she felt, but those words had never been easy for her to grasp. They choked her, became trapped and bloated in their journey towards the surface. Just thinking about saying it - that she lo… cared deeply for Phoebe - made her heart beat out of her chest.

Marceline licked her lips, swallowing several times to try to remove the lump in her throat. "Hey?" Phoebe looked up, smiling within those brilliant blue eyes of hers. For a moment, Marceline was speechless, mesmerised by the way fiery red hair fell in place perfectly around her porcelain face. She wondered how she could have ever gotten so lucky, or if she truly deserved this. For so long, she'd questioned her worth and whether or not anyone could ever love the flawed, hopeless individual that was Marceline Abadeer. Phoebe though, she did.

Marceline tried to swallow again, but her throat was bone dry. Even if, by some miracle, she managed to work up the courage to tell Phoebe what she wanted to say - she physically would not be able to. So instead, Marceline leaned over, defying the screaming pain in her side, and kissed her.

She only hoped that the message got across. Which, judging from the innocence of the situation, she felt that it did.

"I'll get you a towel," Phoebe said with a laugh when they broke away. She left another quick peck on her forehead, and disappeared into the next room.

Marceline couldn't help the big, dorky grin that spread across her face. Her relationship with Phoebe made her feel free and vulnerable at the same time, but no matter how confusing those two opposing feelings were - she felt great.

Her smile soon faded when she saw her reflection in the metal tap. It was the first time she'd seen herself since the incident with Ash. The mirror image was undoubtedly skewed, but it provided a glimpse into the storybook monster she'd metamorphosed into. Marceline touched her face, shaken by her own awful image.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Andrews, is that he could not sit still when he taught. Marceline tilted her head, trying to catch him in her line of sight once again, but the ever-restless teacher walked even further into the blurred void of her vision. Worse still was that the chalkboard where he wrote all of the lesson notes remained hidden from her view as well.

"Bollocks," she grumbled, sitting back in her chair. Every joint in her body was sore, and she was beginning to regret coming to school. No one would think any less of her if she'd skipped out that day. I would though. And if I had, these nosy pricks wouldn't keep staring. She shot a look at one of her classmates who quickly looked away. I get it. I look horrendous.

The door at the back of the room swung open. Marceline couldn't see it happening, of course, couldn't do as the other students did - turning in their seats, effortlessly twisting their pain-free bodies - but she did hear the click of the door, and she could certainly feel the cold draft it let into the room. Especially on her newly bare scalp.

The person who did finally come into view was not one of their classmates. Marceline recognised the blonde underclassman as one of the students she'd seen working in the front office from time to time, likely during one of her free periods. The younger girl waited for Andrews to acknowledge her before producing a slip of paper for him to take.

Andrews thanked her for the delivery and dismissed her from his class. "Marceline," he said, reading over the note, "you're needed in Principal Earle's office."

Panic set in quickly, numbing her to the "oohs" of her immature classmates. She'd done nothing wrong, at least not lately, and she didn't quite see him calling her into his office to have a chat. After the immediate sense of foreboding, she realised that Jake had turned around and was looking at her. In his hand was a sheet of paper, cluttered with a neat, yet noticeably rushed scrawl.

"I took an extra set of notes for you. I'll try to catch you up on anything you miss, but in case I forget later you should take this much," he said.

Marceline thanked him, confused that he'd gone through so much trouble for her. Surely it was only out of forced obligation after she'd saved his little brother, but she couldn't argue the sentiment. Keila hadn't even done that much for her, although as Marceline now noticed, she hadn't taken her own notes either.

Her friend watched as she slid Jake's notes safely into her backpack. "Want me to carry your stuff if you're late?"

"No, it's fine." Marceline carefully pulled the straps over her shoulders, aware of how silly she must have looked. "If I know Earle at all, he's not going to let me out of his office without a fight."

Keila rolled her eyes. "He's probably going to try to call you out on something that he assumes you've done." She offered a small smile. "Good luck anyway, yeah?"

"Cheers," Marceline said, waving a hand at Jake as well when she walked out the door. Earle's office was on the same hallway as the music room, if one did not count the open foyer space that separated the two. I could walk right out the front door if I wanted to. I'd never have to deal with him again after that. He'd expel me and I'd be able to go on about my own without always worrying that he was watching me.

She glanced out of the glass doors as she passed. The sky was rather dreary, and the ground was still wet from the storm they'd had hours ago. Maybe not, she decided, not wanting to walk to Keila's house in such a grody state. If she were to have her victory over Earle, she'd want it to feel like a victory in the end.

Marceline opened the door to the front office, smiling politely at the girl who'd come to get her. She couldn't remember her name, but the other girl had fancied Bongo in primary school. Mystery girl held her gaze for a long time, remembrance flashing in her eyes; her face blossomed into a light shade of pink.

"I'm here to see Earle," Marceline said, trying to ease the tension. "Do I just go right in?"

"Oh, yes." Mystery girl stood and came around to the front of the counter. "I'll walk with you back there. Something about keeping students from wandering in places they shouldn't. You know." She waved her hands, gesturing wildly. "Come with me."

She'd expected the other girl to walk in front of her, rather than right next to her. It was a bit off-putting, and made her feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"So you're… Marceline?"

Their arms kept brushing against each other, to the point that she was beginning to wonder if it was intentional. "I am. I don't believe I've ever caught your name?"

"And it looks like you still won't." The pair came to an abrupt stop in front of Earle's office. Mystery girl knocked on the door before opening it, leaning in unnecessarily close to get the handle. "I'll see you around, Marceline." Then, with a wink, she was on her way back to the front desk.

What a bizarre person. Even if the other girl's behaviour had come totally out of nowhere, it was hard not to admit that her confident nature made Marceline incredibly flustered. Shrugging it off, she steeled her nerves in preparation for whatever accusation Earle was going to throw at her this time.

"Just who I was hoping to see," he said, grinning from ear to ear. The way he sat - reclined in his leather chair, with his hands behind his head - made her nervous. He was too confident to not have something on her.

Marceline dropped her bag onto the floor next to the door, and sat down in the padded chair opposite his desk. "That would be why you called me here, wouldn't it?"

"Don't be cheeky." Earle leaned forward, steepling his long fingers atop the desk. "I believe the last time we spoke, we made a deal. You were to be on your best behaviour at all times - both on and off campus."

Marceline crossed her arms over her chest. "Why don't we get down to what this is really about? The only reason you hate me so much is because your daughter and I-"

"Leave Hope out of this!" He slammed a hand on the desk, making her jump halfway out of her skin. "This has nothing to do with her. This is because you are a bad student and a bad influence on everybody around you."

She slumped down in her chair, suppressing a wince of pain; that would make her look weak and vulnerable. Marceline wanted to appear more relaxed in order to take power away from his authoritative high ground. Weak and vulnerable wouldn't do. "Fine. What's this about then?"

"I believe you've had a little run-in with the local police over the weekend." He opened the manilla folder that had been set in front of him, flaunting the papers within proudly as he flipped through them. "Seeing as how you're now under curfew, I can only assume that you were caught doing some ungodly act. There's no surprise there."

Her heart beat harder with every word he spoke. She'd done nothing wrong, not this time, but Earle was never going to let her go now. "I'm only under curfew until my court date. They already decided that I've done nothing wrong," she said in her defence. "You can ask any number of people. There were others there when it happened. They could tell you that I'm innocent. Better yet, why don't you call the police station."

Earle's face split into a crooked smile. "The police station has already informed me of everything I need to know about you, Abadeer. It seems you already have a bit of a criminal record from before you came to my school. I'm surprised that it managed to slip past me. At any rate, you've defiled the generous offer we've made. The only course of action I see fit is to expel you from this establishment henceforth."

She closed her eyes, desperately trying to think of a way out of this. Marceline hated school, to be sure, and she'd thought time and time again about not coming anymore… but there were a handful of people that would be disappointed in her, and she really didn't want to let them down. "What if you talk to Finn Mertens about everything? He can tell you that I was wrongly accused. That's the whole reason they let me go in the first place."

"Finn Mertens?" he asked, incredulously. "The boy that you've skipped class with? How am I to believe one of your friends?" He drummed his fingers against his desk, watching her for a moment. "If you can think of one person who is completely removed from the situation, who has no ties to you, and who is still willing to speak for you then I suppose I could allow you to stay here until your court date. But good luck presenting me with an acceptable name."

Marceline leaned forward as best she could, trying to use his desk as a shield so that she could pull her phone out without him noticing. He wasn't going to let her off no matter who she named, that much was clear. However, she might know just the person who could persuade him to back off. "Jake Mertens then. He hates me."

"The elder brother of Finn Mertens? You must think me stupid to believe he would not lie for you as well."

She looked past him, out the window of his office. Muscle memory guided her fingers to her text messages, but that was the best she could do without glancing down quickly to be sure she selected the correct name. "What about Keila Harrison? She's an excellent student."

Earle hummed, as if he were thinking about it. They both knew that it was only for show. "I do believe I said no friends. Don't even think about suggesting the Carson boy or Bartholomew Roland either."

"Okay. Fine." She sent Phoebe a message, typing faster than she'd ever had to type before - "Earle's office. Need you. Now, please." After hitting send she sat up quickly. "Bea Rae? Or even Aeryn Yang?"

He emitted a light hearted chuckle. "You expect me to believe that either of those girls knows anything about you? You're just wasting my time now."

Marceline felt a bite of anger at that. "No, I think it's you that doesn't know anything about your own damn students. Bea's not a girl. They're not anything. They're just Bea."

"You will refrain from using that language in my office, Abadeer," he said, low and menacing. "You're lucky that I'm willing to negotiate with you at all."

She snorted. "Negotiate? You just want to make me feel hopeless before you decide to expel me. I don't think you have any intention of letting me back into the building once this is through."

He tapped his pen against the desk, swivelling his chair left and right. Earle's eyes remained locked onto hers, like a predator lusting after their prey, drool seeping from their mouth. "I'm beginning to lose my patience. Any other names? This is your last chance."

Marceline had no other people that she knew would vouch for her. Her mind raced to find an alternate solution - she only needed to stall for as long as it took Phoebe to get there. Judging by the way Earle looked at her, it seemed that was becoming less and less of a viable option in terms of rescue. There was only one other name that came to her desperate mind. It was a long shot, and would possibly throw everything away, but…

"Well?"

"Bonnibel Bauers," she said, instantly.

The chair Earle had been pivoting back and forth came to a halt. "Bauers, is it?"

Marceline nodded. Something about the way he looked at her then made her spine crawl. Everyone surely knew that the two of them had been friends, at one point or another, but if Earle truly watched his cameras as often as he'd have her believe, he would have seen that they hadn't been keen on each other in quite a while. Maybe he even sensed the fear instilled in her at the idea of laying her academic career in Bonnie's hands.

Earle picked up the phone on his desk and pressed one of the many buttons. "I'd like you to find Bonnibel Bauers and bring her to me… Yes… Yes, of course." He placed the receiver back on its hook and leaned back in his chair once more. "It will be just a moment."

Great. Phoebe, please hurry.

Marceline steeled her nerves for a long, awkward wait, her skin already crawling at the way Earle's lips stretched over his big, toothy grin - acting as though he had already won. To her surprise, it didn't take long before the door opened again. The front office helper who retrieved Bonnie was different from the one that Marceline had met. She could only wonder how the principal's assistant had accosted her, demanding that she speak on behalf of someone she hated.

"Sit down, Miss Bauers," Earle said, gesturing to the remaining seat. "I'd like to have a word with you about what happened over the weekend."

"Of course," Bonnie said, claiming the other chair. She met Marceline's eyes, only to quickly look away. The small action worried her.

Earle drummed his fingers against the desk, slowly, adding volume to each passing second. "It has come to my attention that Abadeer was recently involved in a dubious legal issue. Do you know anything about this?"

Bonnie cleared her throat. The way she sat - stiff as a board, yet somehow with an air of relaxation - made her look so confident and dignified. Marceline wished that she could comfortably sit in the face of authority like that. "Yes, sir. I was the one who drove her home from the police station."

"Do you believe that she is innocent? Think before you answer, Miss Bauers." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I personally find it hard to swallow that she would be required to return for a proper sentence if she truly had nothing to do with the vandalism and burglary that occurred. What say you?"

Bonnie hesitated. It wasn't enough to make her seem dishonest, but it was certainly enough to sink talons into Marceline's heart. "There could be any number of reasons for why she would need to appear in court. Testifying against the real perpetrators could be among those things." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I truly believe Marceline is innocent, sir. If she were, in fact, dangerous they would not have let her back into the public, and besides, she hasn't been officially convicted just yet."

Earle seemed to be impressed with her answer, although whatever he was going to say was cut off by a knock at the door. "Come in," he shouted, annoyed. Regardless, he straightened his stance, putting on the guise of a generic headmaster in preparation for whoever might enter.

"Uh… Excuse me, sir. There's someone here to see you. It's… quite important, I think." The second office worker opened the door. Marceline was relieved to see Phoebe standing on the other side of it.

"Miss Edan! To what do I owe the pl-"

"I find it rather reprehensible that you would bring a student into your office and threaten to deny them an education on the basis of a false accusation." Phoebe's sharp words cut down Earle's paltry attempt at politeness. She crossed her arms, jutting her hip out in that way she did when she was angry. "I'm sure Daddy would be absolutely livid if he were to learn what kind of school he's been funding."

Marceline had almost totally forgotten how domineering her girlfriend was towards other people, having only ever been subject to Phoebe's sweet side. The wildfire raging behind her eyes gave Marceline chills, but it was oddly arousing all the same.

A look of panic flashed over Earle's face, only just briefly. "My mistake. I had only the best intentions at heart. It wouldn't do to have a criminal roaming about."

"My girlfriend is not a criminal," Phoebe said, without any hesitation. The pride in her voice made Marceline's heart skip a beat. As fierce as a lion, as hot as a burning flame... that was her Phoebe.

Earle looked taken aback. He fumbled for a moment, before waving a hand, dismissing them from his office. "You have my sincerest apologies, Abadeer." His attempt at reconciliation was forced and empty, filled with an underlying promise for revenge.

Either way, Marceline was satisfied. She leaned over to grab her school bag by the strap, feeling a jolt in her stomach when her aches and pains throbbed, and dragged it along beside her as she strode with pride out of the front office. "That was remarkable, Pheebs. How did you even know what was going on? I only told you where I was."

Phoebe stopped to grab her bag from the floor and lifted it up, helping Marceline's arms under the straps with gentle hands. The calm and caring action was quite the contrast to her earlier outburst. "I assumed that it had something to do with the recent incident, but I asked the girls working in the office. They're both members of the drama club, so naturally they didn't mind passing on the knowledge." She and Bonnie locked eyes for a brief moment. "Anyway, I have to get back to class."

"I understand." Marceline nervously played with the red hair tie around her wrist. Something about the way they looked at each other felt hostile to her, but there was nothing other than instinct to support the notion. "I'll see you after class, okay?"

Phoebe looked back up at her, and smiled. Placing a hand on Marceline's chest, she leaned up to kiss her. "I look forward to it."

Marceline kissed her again, waving goodbye when she turned to leave. Phoebe had probably been expecting that they would walk back to class together - their rooms were just across the hall from each other, after all - but she would explain later. She just needed a moment to speak with Bonnie. Thankfully, the other girl hadn't gone anywhere, despite being made a third, unnoticed wheel.

Bonnie turned to her when Phoebe was out of earshot. "Could we talk?"

"Oh. Yeah." She hadn't been anticipating that in the slightest. "What's up?"

Bonnie chewed her lip, never breaking eye contact. For some reason, she looked sad. "I've been thinking about… a lot lately." She inhaled slowly, exhaling fully before she continued on. "Things have been really crazy between us over the past few months. I know we've had our fair share of differences, but I was wondering if… maybe… we could start over?" Marceline opened her mouth to ask what this was about, stopping when Bonnie held up a hand. "Before you say anything - I'm not sure that it's a good idea for us to ever be as close as we once were. Things are just... too complicated... but I can't-" She hesitated, her lip quivering. A wet glint shone in her eyes. "I can't stay away from you, Marceline. I don't think I've ever been more dissatisfied with my life than I am now, when I have to pretend that I don't still consider you my best friend. When you were away from Whitewater, it was still less painful than this. But seeing you every day, and knowing that we've drifted so far apart from each other? It breaks my heart."

Marceline's brow furrowed. It would be a lie if she said she didn't miss Bonnie as well, but things had changed so much. Their lives were on different paths now, and even though she liked the idea of starting over, she didn't think it could be possible. There were questions too, of course. One thought in particular stuck out like a sore thumb - "What do you mean when you say it's not a good idea for us to be close again?"

The slight shift in Bonnie's posture almost escaped Marceline's notice. It was the tiniest shrug she'd ever seen. "I don't know how to explain it. Maybe we shouldn't be friends at all at this point in our lives. Logically, I know it's a bad idea. But I need you. We don't have to ever hang out again, or even talk outside of school. I just don't want to keep feeling like you've forgotten me."

Marceline licked her lips. She could list a million reasons why she didn't want to be near Bonnie again. There were countless excuses she could make, or reasonings that they should adhere to… but there was only one reason why she wanted to say yes. Fuck it.

Throwing caution to the wind, she held open her arms as a small smile played across her lips. Immediately, Bonnie fell into her, burying her face in Marceline's shoulder with a familiar ease she had all but forgotten. The embrace was tense, and likely tighter than was probably wise for her broken ribs. Marceline bit back the pain, her arms wrapping securely around her childhood friend. She breathed Bonnie in, allowing her to penetrate the walls that had been guarding from this very thing. Marceline closed her eyes, ignoring the terrible feeling brewing in her stomach.

It was love, wasn't it?