Valentine's day came and went. Nobody celebrated it anyways, but it was still a bitter reminder to Marshall that he had globbed things up with Fionna. Now, he spent all of his time at the mercy of Gumball's experiments.
He sat in a makeshift spacecraft, garbed in the spacesuit. He had been sitting there for hours, waiting for PG to figure out what was wrong with the launching mechanics. Waiting in silence gave him far too long to think, and thinking was making him depressed.
"Gumball?" He called. No one could hear him, the ship was designed to create a vacuum around him where no air could penetrate, and no soundwaves could travel. The term deafening silence never made sense to him until now.
His body was shot with adrenaline as suddenly, the little craft blasted from the ground. A voice chirped over the little intercom of the spacesuit.
"Sorry." Crackled in PG's voice. Marshall couldn't respond. Not only because the spacesuit hadn't been fitted with a microphone yet, but because his lungs were flattened against his ribcage and he couldn't draw breath if he tried. It was a sickening feeling that surely would have killed a human on the spot. How they had managed space travel, Marshall had no idea, but it wasn't as romantic as it seemed.
His brain felt like jelly wobbling in a bowl as the craft shook around him. There hadn't been time to make little windows, or give Marshall any clue to where he was, but he could feel the friction of the atmosphere trying to push him back down to Earth.
So far, they had not succeeded in breaking out of the stratosphere, and Marshall prepared for the feeling of freefall to escape yet another failed experiment.
A second blast shot from the craft, and Marshall's eyes stung with the pressure of his eyelids against his eyeballs. This was another pleasant surprise that Gumball had failed to mention before. Being his guinea pig was a harrowing job.
And then there was nothing. The rocket which propelled the craft sputtered and died, and he floated. The intercom of the suit crackled.
"We- it- !" Said a fragmented Gumball. Great, another thing to fix. So far, Marshall had not enjoyed the scientific process. Every success was met with twenty new problems to solve, and it felt an endless cycle.
"Try." Was all Marshall heard from the intercom, and it was instruction enough. He unlatched the handle, and pushed the door open.
Blackness met him. He was in space, and he hated it. More crackles came over the intercom, and Marshall felt a special kind of loneliness that he imagined could only be felt by a man stranded on an island. He'd never yearned so much for home in his entire life.
There were no further instructions, and no ominous crackling to be deciphered through the intercom. Marshall thrust his arms out as if he were swimming and found it had no effect on his movement, but if he floated, as he did on Earth, he could change his trajectory. For once, something had gone right.
He floated about for a bit, not knowing what else he was to do in the vastness of space, before he floated back down towards Earth. He didn't bother with the bucket of bolts he had come in. It wouldn't survive the land, anyways. He started to feel the pull of gravity, and he let it suck him in like water down a drain. Faster and faster he was consumed by the Earth's atmosphere, and the pressure became so intense that he lost complete control of flight. He fell like a rock to the Earth's surface, his suit ablaze with the friction of the air. At this speed, with so much air pressure, Marshall could not float back up. He hadn't the strength.
As he neared the surface, Marshall regained control, and slowed his fall, landing safely in the fields by Candy Kingdom in the ridiculous space suit.
A pink, jumping, dot made its way towards him. It was Gumball, ecstatic with scientific success, coming to celebrate.
For the first time, Marshall had hope that maybe the pink goofball could do it. Maybe he could save the world. Maybe Marshall wouldn't have to say goodbye to Fionna. All they had to figure out, now, was how to launch a near 4 ton bomb into space instead of just his little body.
After successfully breaking into the void of space, momentum picked up at Gumball's lab. Night after day after night, the two built, tested, and retested larger and larger ships. According to the Gregorian 'Yoga Cows' calendar hanging over PG's laboratory table, it was late April. Flowers began to peak out from the frost, and it was strange to watch them burst to life just as the world threatened to end. Getting into space was one thing, but digging up the bomb to transport it to the lab would be another. Marshall was dreading having to do it. He could barely sleep at the thought of having to handle such a powerful weapon. If they screwed up, the asteroid would have nothing to blast away in a few months. But they had no choice, it was either try or do nothing at all.
The bomb was located a few miles away inside of a large metal tube. In the past, it must have functioned like a giant bullet being shot out of a barrel. The barrel of the missile had protected the bomb from the elements for the most part, but would not last the journey back to Candy Kingdom. The plan was to weld open the chamber, and airlift the bomb out.
Gumball flew above the bomb in his makeshift aircraft while Marshall stared at the metal shell of the bomb. He was scared to even touch it. Why was he the one always in the throes of danger? Gumball had a bad habit of using others to do his dirty work. This made Marshall think of Fionna, and did not help him to concentrate on the task at hand.
Gumball always let Marshall do the dirty work because logically, if Marshall died, Gumball would still be able to continue his mission to save the world. It was logical, but damn, it was cold. Long straps fell from the aircraft, and the fabric slapped against the metal shell of the bomb. The sound sent shots of adrenaline through his core. One wrong move, and the thing could blow. Marshall grabbed the straps and with shaking hands, wrapped them around the bomb, securing it to the aircraft. He made quick work of it, as if the bomb was on a timer as well as hypersensitive to touch. He tied the last of the straps and looked up to the aircraft, where Gumwad was sure to be looking down. Marshall clicked on a walkie talkie to communicate with Gumball.
"All done." He said.
"Great," Gumball said in response, "Get ready for phase two."
"Are you sure this thing is not going to blow?" Marshall asked shakily.
"Nope. Not at all. I am an expert at creating life, not destroying it. Weaponry is not really my thing. But if it helps you get the job done, then yes, I am quite sure it will not blow up. Not now, anyways."
"Wow, I knew I could count on you." Marshall replied with sarcasm.
"Anytime." Gumball said, returning the humor. "Prepare for liftoff."
Gumball's voice wavered, and it comforted Marshall to at least know he was just as nervous at the prospect of moving the bomb.
A powerful wind blew over Marshall as the craft struggled to lift the weight. Metal screeched in protest at having to be moved after years of peaceful rest. Marshall's heart beat frantically in his chest. In his opinion, Gumball was being much too lax about handling this sort of weapon. To Marshall, the bomb may as well have been made of glass.
The engine of the craft struggled as the bomb began to loosen from its hold. A terrible groaning issued from the metal as it resisted being moved, then, with a final jostle, came loose from the hold to be suspended by the straps.
The bomb bumped against the barrel with ominous metal gonging before Gumball carefully maneuvered it safely from the hold. Marshall thought he was going to die from anxiety right there and then.
By Glob, they'd done it.
"Whoooo!" Gumball cheered through the walkie talkie.
"You fly like an idiot." Marshall chastised. "You couldn't have done that a bit more carefully?"
"Big words from Mr. 'say goodbye to my loved ones'."
Marshall thought of Fionna. It had been months since he had seen her, and it was precious time not spent. After Christmas, he couldn't face her again. He felt so awful for the way things had turned out, that the only way he could forgive himself was to actually save the world with PG, despite his huge doubts that they would succeed.
"What can I say?" Marshall said. "Maybe the world isn't so doomed after all."
"That's the spirit." Gumball replied, before the aircraft sped off back to Candy Kingdom, bomb in tow.
For a short while, Gumball didn't seem to need Marshall's help. The majority of the work was mainly all calculations and projections, and Marshall got in the way instead of lending a hand. Gumball grew tired of finding his friend right behind his shoulder as he was in deep concentration and resorted to kicking him out of the lab, telling Marshall to find something useful to do.
What did Marshall have to do besides think of Fionna? Nothing much, and he couldn't deny that he missed her. She hadn't sought out his company for the past couple of months, and Marshall wondered if he had completely freaked her out with his confession, or if there was hope for them to redeem their friendship before the 'big bang' to come. Eventually, he resolved that there was no time to putz around in 'what ifs' and to just be bold. There was literally no time like the present, after all.
Marshall knocked on the door of the treehouse later that night, then stuffed his hands into his jeans pocket, waiting anxiously to face the person he had avoided for the past few weeks. Cake answered, and Marshall sighed with annoyance.
"Hey, Cake." He moaned.
"Hey Vampire boy." She said cheekily.
"That's 'king' to you."
"Yeah, whatever. You looking for Fionna?" Something in Cake's demeanor was different, but Marshall couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something to do with the way she wiggled her eyebrows and her sly side eyes.
Oh Glob, Fionna must have told her about what he had said.
"Yes." He said flatly, unenthusiastic about the sure amount of teasing he was about to receive.
"Check the lake." She said with a wink, "Mr. Vampire King…" then closed the door on his nose.
Well, at least Cake didn't seem to dislike him as much as she used to, but it still annoyed the crap out of him to know that a conversation had been had about him and his stupid feelings. He imagined it was a slumber party setting, with heavy amounts of giggling and snickering.
He made his way to the lake, thinking of what the heck he was going to say to her. He just wanted to see her, really, and try to get some normalcy back. She way lying on the grassy hill by the water, looking up at the night sky. As it had done every night, the sky streaked with hundreds of meteors, the number of them steadily growing as the nights went on. For this reason, Marshall resisted looking up after dark.
"Hey, Fionna." He called. She turned to the direction of his voice.
"Marshall?" She called back. He approached her, eyeing the sky.
"Mind if I join you?" He asked.
"Of course not." Fionna said, patting the spot of grass next to her. Well, so far she didn't seem to hate him. Maybe he had stayed away from her for nothing. He sat down, and offered her a smile. She returned it.
"So, I hear you've been playing scientist with Gumball." She said. "What are you two working on."
Marshall shook his head. He hadn't expected to feel such a rush of sadness at being with her. He couldn't sit here and pretend that the world would not be ending in just a few weeks.
"I've been… helping him figure out his spacecraft." He said. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't really the whole truth either. He hoped she would not press further.
"Is he freaking out about the meteors every night as well?"
Damn, Fionna was too clever for her own good.
"Yeah." Marshall replied.
They were silent for a while, and Fionna didn't pry any further.
"About what you said last time…" She started. "Did you mean it?"
Marshall sighed. He'd rather discuss the end of the world than his unrequited feelings.
"What, the liking you thing?" He asked. "Yeah. I did, I do."
Horribly, she didn't respond.
"Sorry." He said after a while.
"You're not going to try to kiss me tonight, are you?" She said.
"No, I've learned my lesson, thanks." He said sadly. Why was she poking at him like this?
"Well, I don't know. Maybe you should." She said, looking straight up at the stars.
Marshall didn't know what to make of that, but it made his heart race in his chest.
"You like me, then?" He asked with small hope.
"I don't know." She replied. "But I think a kiss would help me figure it out."
He didn't want to seem eager, so he said nothing at all. Anxiety began to whelm in him. So much would ride on a kiss like that, did he even know how? What if he kissed her and she felt nothing?
He took a steadying breath, and decided on just a simple kiss. He was going to kiss her, and if she didn't have feelings, then tough. It wouldn't be right to be with someone who felt nothing for him anyways.
Marshall turned to face her, and placed a hand on her cheek. Her eyes bore into his.
She let him pull her face towards his, and press their lips together.
He stayed there, trying to memorize the feeling of her face on his. If this would be the first time, the last time, the only time he would kiss her, he was going to remember every morsel of sensation. Her warmth, the fullness of her mouth between his, the smell of her, all of it. He burned all of it to memory. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his brow quivered with emotion. He hoped she didn't take notice. He hoped she felt something like he did.
When she finally pulled away, she giggled, and the sound made his insides shatter.
"That was so weird." She said, covering her mouth with her hand. Weird was not what he had wanted to hear. He'd put himself, his heart on the line far too many times. And this time, Marshall felt how truly tired he was of trying.
"So?" He asked her, eyes wide with question. To his horror she shrugged, and it was a stake to the heart.
He had tried everything from patience to persistence but Fionna still didn't return his feelings.
"Well, then. I guess that's it." He said with sad resolve. Marshall didn't really want to leave but he was having one of those rare moments when he felt like crying. He pushed himself off the ground to begin his escape.
"You're leaving?" She said, watching him stuff his hands into his pants pockets.
"Yeah. I'm done." He said firmly. Fionna was taken aback.
"Like, forever?" She asked.
He nodded, trying hard not to knock the tears from his eyes with the gesture. The worst thing he could imagine next to Fionna knowing how much he liked her, was to see how much she'd hurt him.
He'd leave this world with at least his pride.
"Thanks for the kiss." He said, and then turned to float away. Fionna was dumbstruck, and wanted to follow him. She hadn't been completely unaffected by the kiss, but it was true, kissing him was weird.
She called out for him to wait, too late.