The sound of smashing glass and a bloodcurdling howl had shaken Bronwyn from her drug-induced sleep. She had shot up just to see the silhouette of the Vampire Queen ascending into the night sky. Bronwyn grimaced as a wave of pain lanced down her injured shoulder and into her spine. The wound had made everything impossible, she couldn't even breathe without aching. It had been the first time since she had been rescued since she had been alone with her thoughts. The last few days were distorted into a haze by her injuries and the drugs she'd been given to calm the pain. She remembered Marceline had come to see her, but since that night she'd seemed to be a completely different person. Everything that she had once found cool and powerful about Marceline had become menacing. She used to admire the Vampire Queen, even had a crush on her.
She was an absolute badass, an ageless rebel who'd made her mark on the world and looked good doing it. Bronwyn remembered her heart fluttering at the memory of the Vampire Queen's long, silky hair, the powerful shape she cut while demanding respect from other while wearing full punk garb, and how strong and defined her shoulders always looked. Now everything about her carried nothing but menace. Her sharp fangs, glowing red eyes, hands capable of transmutation into wicked claws as sharp and deadly as the ones that had impaled her uncle.
Your uncle is dead, she stopped breathing, screwing her eyes shut as if this could ward away the thoughts, he died trying to protect you.
She slowed her breathing, pushed back the memories of that horrible night, of that creature standing over her with its hands buried in her shoulder, gazing towards the treeline to wait for Finn the hero to come storming to the rescue of his distressed apprentice.
No, not right now. She willed the images away, squeezing the sheets on her bed in her good hand. Bronwyn wiped the sweat beading on her brow. She slowed her breathing, and gradually her mind returned to its regular path. When Marceline visited, she must have felt her discomfort. She had stayed awhile, tried to be warm and friendly, and asked if there was anything she could do. Something had transpired, there must have been a tell of how Bronwyn had changed. Marceline apologized, told her that she would give her the space she needed, before turning on her heel and walking from the room with her shoulders sagging.
Princess Bubblegum had been her most regular visitor. Bubblegum, who stood over her with something too regal to be motherly concern. She remembered trying to stop herself from crying in front of the princess, but the sorrow had just come pouring out, and she had cried on her shoulder. If she had ever meant to make herself look like a hero this is where this image had been shattered. The Princess had comforted her, dressed her wounds, giving her medicine to keep infection at bay, and the first of many painkillers.
"You have to sleep. The less you move the better it will heal." She remembered the Princess telling her when as Bronwyn swallowed a pair of pills. "It's going to be fine, Bronwyn. I'm going to fix it."
"Nothing is ever going to be fine." Bronwyn could feel tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She could feel resentment at the princess for promising something that she couldn't possibly deliver.
I couldn't save him. I couldn't even help myself, she thought, and the unwanted images in her mind were as powerful as ever. She had tried to cry out his claws only dug deeper until she was no longer in control of herself. She had gone limp, unable to tell his uncle to stop, to turn back, to get help. Instead, she had watched as the vampire thing impaled her uncle, punching clean through his torso, holding him up as life drained away from him. I should have died too.
"Are you alright?" Peppermint Butler stood at the entrance of her room. There was something reassuring about seeing the old candyman in his suit. He was a decade older than he had been when she had first met him when she was a rebellious teenager, but he had hardly changed at all, aside from the fading of his red stripes.
"I can get you something from the pain." he said, clasping his hands behind his back.
"It's alright." Bronwyn worked to keep the edge from her voice. She glanced over at the automated nurse next to her and into its unblinking eye. "Tuliad's been giving me as many happy pills as I can take."
"I don't know about that, miss. You've been through quite a bit." Peppermint unwrapped the wounded area. Her skin had taken on a sickly brown colour, there were five puncture marks on her shoulder.
"I think I'll be ok. I can move my hand by myself now." Bronwyn lifted her injured arm and made a fist. A fresh lance of pain travelled down her arm and spine.
"Good, good, It's improving faster than we thought." Peppermint sniffed at the wound, searching for rot. "How are the nightmares?"
"W-what?" Bronwyn's spine stiffened, she stood up in her bed and glanced at the butler.
"It's ok, you've been through horrible things in the last few hours, it's only natural that there's…" Something passed over Peppermint's eyes. "Psychic trauma. It would be strange if there wasn't."
Bronwyn could begin to pound in her chest once again. Your Uncle is dead, he didn't have time to say goodbye, more visions of his murder. The empty, vacant stare of the vampire as it withdrew its arm from uncle Finn's chest. The way her uncle's mouth opened as if he was going to scream only to find his lungs empty and his heart had stopped beating. Bronwyn tried to rally, to muster any shred of stoicism. "They're bad." The admission managed to keep her from bursting into tears. "Really bad."
"There's nothing to be ashamed of." Peppermint placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The good news is that there's ways to heal faster than by mundane means, both physically and psychically."
"What do you mean?" Bronwyn's mouth fell open.
"There's spells that are powered by emotion. Feelings are powerful things. There are things that would trade powerful memories for boons."
"Boons?" Memories pricked at her mind. Her grandfather had told her about these deals, but she had scarcely listened to his stories back then.
"Yes, boons for a fair trade." Peppermint Butler withdrew his hand and stared into Bronwyn's face. "You could claim them, become stronger than you've ever been. Get revenge on those who have wronged you."
"Is this one of Bubblegum's experiments?"
"No, you wont find any science in any of this, this is an art more ancient than anything in this world, but maybe you're not ready." He stepped from the stool he was standing on. "I understand, and I have no desire to pressure you." The butler folded his hands behind his back. "Please let me know if there's anything I can get you." He turned and began to walk away. His footfalls heavy on the tilled floor.
"Wait." Bronwyn surprised herself when she called out. "I want to get out of here. I want to take the deal."
"I am glad to hear it miss." His eyes seemed to blaze with otherworldly light for a moment. "We will profit handsomely from this trade, but we must hurry, we don't have much time."
