Real talk: I know what you're thinking. "CwT! You just posted a chapter a few days ago! What the flip?!" Well, CwT finally finished her Master's in historical sociology, so she had two whole days completely to herself to write! Go me! I wouldn't expect this to happen again, though. I just happened to have two solid days to write while also being really inspired to. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter, though.
Oh, and everyone should go read and review Plesiosaur's work, and Opening Act probably would still be in limbo except she's super encouraging.
Content Warnings:
One happy friendly lovely chat with absolutely no angst whatsoever
Description of an old injury
Back injury treatment (CwT isn't a doctor)
Mood swings
We all saw that, Bonnie, for shame
Marceline opening the door on the first knock surprised everyone. Her slamming it shut with clearly excessive force immediately upon seeing who her visitors were surprised no one.
"Aw, come on, Marce! Open up!"
But Finn's request was denied, his efforts instead rewarded with the sound of a bass strumming. Pausing. Strumming again. A behavior Bonnibel recognized immediately as her tuning it, something that often betrayed nervousness. Unless she really did need to tune the instrument.
Really? I'd pick now to tune it? Right now? I know you're filled with self-doubt right now, Bon, but come on.
The princess sighed deeply, a woe-is-me, pitiful thing, but only internally. It seemed that Rechte had begun kicking out her own line of thinking in favor of something more constructive. Well, not literally Rechte, she knew that. Still, she was grateful for the change in pace; her own thoughts were indeed riddled with self-doubt, and it wasn't a sentiment she was used to experiencing for anything longer than brief moments, and even then purely within the context of a scientific experiment. But whereas she would have been happy to treat her wayward-lover as an experiment in the past she knew better now, and was secretly glad that the part of the vampire that had solved so many mysteries and unknowns about herself for her was still with the candy golem, even if it only was a subconscious representation.
It made her feel less alone, that was for sure.
Another knock, and more strumming. When Finn turned to Jake and shrugged haplessly the dog frowned, rubbing his chin in ponderance. Then his eyes lit up and he turned to his monarch. "Bubblegum, you got anything red in there?"
"Ye-"
That word fragment was all he needed, and the elder hero turned back to the door, knocking once more. "Open up, Marce! We got snacks!" Despite his clever scheme, though, the door remained unyielding and he turned back to his friends, his shrug just as hapless as his brother's. "I 'unno. Worked with Unifier."
Bonnibel frowned in ponderance. But she's not Unifier. She's whole now. Alright Bubblegum, break this down. Unifier's deal was pure neutrality, and she wanted absolutely nothing to do with anything. She opened the door for us because of the novelty of red food. We won't get Marcy to open the door unless we know what she wants-
And then it hit her, and after clearing her throat she knocked once more. "Marcy? It's me. We're here because we just want to check on you. ...I just want to check on you. And… if you're ready, I'd like to discuss my-" utter betrayal "-...utter betrayal of your trust and exploitation of your-"
The door opened, a single garnet eye poking out. This time it only narrowed at the two beaming faces in front of her, the one downtrodden. A single growl that may as well be a grunt escaped her but this time the door opened, allowing the trio of outsiders entry into Marceline's room. Their hostess herself did nothing to make her invitation all-too welcoming; the moment the three had crossed the threshold the door slammed shut and the half-demon returned to her previous position, bass still clutched in her hand, though whether as an instrument or as a weapon was difficult to say.
The queen's room hadn't changed much in the brief period since her friend's had last seen it. The floors and walls were made of the same warm, dark material as the Citadel itself. Her wall of instruments was still exactly that, still filled with musical devices both known and foreign, and still immaculate. The two windows, both of which were enormous and arched, were still composed of stained glass and featuring delicate geometric tracery. Rather than display one solid color, however, the coloration flowed in combination with the pattern, changing shades as the patterns changed form. It was difficult to see through the almost entirely closed blackout curtain, but Finn thought he spotted a spiderweb crack in the right window.
The furniture was much the same, he found with relief. The heavy armoire and a dresser, both seemingly made of the same black wood as the bedroom door, both topped with various trinkets and bric-a-brac from the surface world. There were small figurines she didn't recognize, half a dozen picture frames, even strange curiosities like a lump of coal and an acorn. Huh. I gotta remember to ask about those. Not a lot of Ooo stuff in the Nightosphere.
Her four poster bed was black, both the posts and the canopy made of the same wood-like material as her door. The spires were angular, almost fractal-like, tapering upwards. Each was topped with a small four-eyed bat, complete with fur detail; even from her point on the floor the princess thought she could make out tiny garnet eyes and teensy little fangs. Their wings were spread, perhaps in an attempt to look scary. Bonnibel almost smiled. Still not scary, Marcy. The footboard itself were solid, though there were copious faint scratches in the wood. The headboard was partially obscured by an array of dark red cushions and pillows, which matched the soft blankets piled on the bed. In contrast to the rest of the room the bed decorations were strangely simple, with no lace, frill, tassels, or other decor to speak of. Just simple and soft looking.
In contrast to the rest of the room, however, something was terribly off about its denizen. Marceline wore a black t-shirt from a band Bonnibel didn't immediately recognize, but seemed to feature a dragon and a pickup truck. When she sat on her bed it was easy to see that in place of her normal jeans she wore simple grey slacks that looked rather comfortable to Jake, he thought enviously. There were no shoes. Most curiously, however, was the white and red scarf she wore tightly around her neck.
But it was the staring that the trio found unsettling.
Although her eyes were neither slitted nor pinned there was something dark hidden behind them. She was tense, eyes narrowed, staring at the three with some emotion none could immediately place. 'Loathing' came to Jake's mind. 'Bitterness' was Finn's mental guess, or perhaps 'antipathy'. But Bonnibel was closest, identifying it squarely as 'destructive', the predatory look she gave those she considered detrimental. We're the enemy right now. That's what that look means. Why are we the enemy? That was indeed the puzzle, but the young scientist was a woman on a mission. Now if only that mission would stop changing on an hour-by-hour basis. She gave the older woman a weak smile. "Hey Marceline."
Her expression didn't change. "Hello, Bonnibel."
She successfully restrained her wince, because not only did the tone match the expression but her voice was still clearly poorly healed. It seemed to no longer hurt her to talk, but it was strained now; if you didn't know the vampire very well you may not notice the difference, but Bonnibel had centuries of experience in listening to her laugh and sing, and it was like night and day. I did that. Such a reality gave her pause, made her hesitate, and she floundered.
It was Finn who took over. "So… ready to go back to Ooo, Marce?" He sounded so sincerely hopeful it was almost endearing. But the musician's eyes narrowed dangerously, not dropping their dark glint.
"I'm not going back to Ooo, Finn."
The boy paused at those words, but they didn't dissuade him. Perhaps, before this adventure began, if Marceline had made such a statement he would have relented at the declaration. But things were different now. He had seen more of his ladybro than even she herself had. More than that, though, he knew it had to be him to issue what was ultimately a challenge, to egg her on and out of her comfort zone; Jake was insightful, but often in short bursts and was sometimes prone to laziness, and he couldn't let his princess have that burden when she was trying so desperately to repair their bond. No, if they were going to convince Marceline to return home with them it was on him to at least get the party started.
"Sure ya are!"
A grey hand gripped her bass's staff tighter. "If that's why you're here you can get out of my room, Finn."
While Jake pondered what a wonderful idea that was Finn shook his head sadly, dropping his voice, softening it, because whatever it was that was messing with his friend he knew it had to come from a place of pain. Was the vampire often violent and emotional? Certainly. But that look, her tension, these were new. They were a problem and caused by a bigger problem. And heroes were all about solving problems. "What's wrong, Marce?"
"Get out, Finn," she snarled, placing her bass down to rise to her full height, a posturing move from a woman who was not made of empty threats or false promises.
An alarm bell rang in Bonnibel's mind, the knowledge that although her maybe-lover had once vowed to never hurt her Finn had been granted no such luxury, that, objectively speaking at least, Marceline was in fact a severely dangerous creature. Before she could even take one step further she felt a pull in the back of her mind.
Hold up, Bon. Let him try.
Rechte, she could obliterate him!
Let the kid try, Bon. He's not the same twerp he was when he first met you, you know?
She, in fact, did know, and it made her uncomfortable in ways she couldn't express. It was so surreal to watch someone she cared about grow and develop into not only a hero but a man, especially when she herself was ageless. A quick glance to Jake showed that he was just as tense as she was, ready to pull them apart at a moment's notice. He'd never be fast enough.
"I'm not leaving, Marce. We're friends. Right now your mindmeats are all jacked up because you just went through something super messed up. But that's why we're here. We're gonna take you home-"
"Do you really think you're in a position to be telling me what the flip I'm gonna do?," she hissed, hands shifting into grey talons.
Rechte…
Chill, Bon. He's got this. Kid can do more than you think.
His smile was both sad and gentle. "Marce, I'm not gonna force you. But you're my friend, and sometimes friendship is really messy. You gotta make a judgment call on whether you think your friend needs space or they need help. And I think you need he-"
And then Finn was pinned against the bedroom door, feet off the floor, a grey claw holding him by his shirt. Though he would never admit it to anyone he was infinitely glad it wasn't by his neck. Still, the grey claw held over him, ready to rip out his throat or perhaps some other very important part of his body was more than a little unsettling.
"Nuh uh. Stop talking. I'm done with people telling me they know what's best for me. Me? I'm gonna do what I went, when I want. I tell me what to do. No one else, ya get that, twerp? And I say I belong down here, with the rest of my kind. There's nothing up there for something like me."
Finn noticed two discrepancies simultaneously, and history would show that it was only because of this natural insight, of his ability to read between the lines, that he would know how to decipher the real problem. Interesting… you said that second part without looking at Peebo for a change. I wonder if… "Marce, we both know that's a load of boogers. You're hurt, and I get that. But you gotta get that, too. 'Sides…" He tried, really he did, but that gentle smile turning into a knowing one. At least it didn't become teasing. "You're not gonna kill me. Yeah, you might maim me or rip off my other arm or whatevs, but if you wanted to kill me you woulda done it already. Probs to send a message to PB and Jake. Or just 'cause you're hungry." Would she drink his blood in this situation? It was almost impossible to imagine Marceline as anything but a staunch vegetarian, but in her mind the Unifier had consumed Bonnibel's blood - albeit unwittingly - and there was no way of knowing whether or not that one action would matter now, in the real world. She certainly looked hungry enough for it to matter, and, on some deep and primitive level, he had to look like food.
They stared at one another, daring, challenging, two sharp fangs extending in preparation, possible for a meal, possibly for a fight. And then Finn was dropped, hitting his tailbone hard on the even harder floor. She paid him no mind, only turning to retreat back to perching on the end of her bed. "Finn, go away. All of you, go away-"
"Why did you same 'something' like you?" It took a great effort, but by some miracle Bonnibel's question was asked just as gently as Finn's, its normal arrogance absent.
When Marceline glared at her it wasn't with the same force as when they first entered her lair, and she was beginning to suspect, with glee, that they were wearing down her resistance and getting at the heart of the matter. At the very least she seemed to be relenting far easier than she would initially anticipate. Yes, something more than anger is going on here. It's only a symptom. Maybe-
"I'm staying down here with the other demons." Before anyone could comment further she hooked her thumb at her poster wall; only then did the trio realize that there were deep claw marks running through several of her beloved posters, dug into the solid stone-like wall. A silence befell the group, Jake feeling as though something from the Thorn Gate nagged at him, Finn worrying what was happening to his best friend, and Bonnibel concerned, but relieved she had the same posters in her room and could easily replace the ruined ones.
"But… you're not a demon."
Oddly enough, it was not Finn who spoke those words, but-
"Half is good enough, Jake."
"Yeah, but… is it?" His head tilted and she turned his glare on him. After his time within her mindscape, of being subjected to the Usurper's wrath, Marceline herself could only pale in comparison. At least, for the moment. And really, isn't that what counted? "You're half-demon, but that makes you half-human, right?"
"Vampire, Jake. Half demon, half vampire."
"Yeah, a vampire that eats red and ganked like a million vampires for hunting actual humans. Man, I saw your look when Finn said you wanna eat him. You looked grossed out."
Finn pondered that observation as a growl emerged from the back of the queen's throat, which was slightly more intimidating than the glare, but not by enough. "What's your point, Jake?"
"I just wanna know what's really goin' on. Yeah, you made claw marks in the wall for some mysterious reason you don't seem to wanna share." Yup, that sounds familiar. "I've done worse to get to breakfast." It was true and they all knew it.
Her claws returned to hands and she sighed, leaning her back against the bedpost, one leg rested on the soft mattress, the other hanging off. She hated when any of them were right, but the energy she had just expelled had only been a burst, and it was beginning to fade, taking her desire to fight with it. "I'm just… mad. All the time. And then when I'm not mad I'm other stuff, and I don't even know what the other stuff is. I just… can't control any of it." Her eyes closed and Finn felt a pang of guilt for his 'tough love' tactics, knowing now what caused the damage to Hunson's office wall, how Jan may have been truthful when he said his ladybro destroyed a large part of the Citadel. She sounded drained. "Just go back to Ooo, guys. I'm not going back. I'm gonna guess you saw the part of the Citadel that's not part of the Citadel anymore. If I destroy stuff there I could kill people. Here… well at in the Nightosphere morality is relative. It's just better this way."
"But Marce, we can help you get better! We're your bros!"
She laughed at that, a bitter sound that felt like acid in her mouth. "You can't fix me. You wanna see how I know?" That burst of anger again, but it gradually faded as she reached behind her, unravelling the scarf. It was only once it was free that the reason for its placement became clear: a large knot of silver tissue at the base of her throat, two thin lines of raised silver tissue wrapping around either side of neck. By the way she treated the flesh it seemed tender, as if it still hurt her. Marceline refused to look at them as they admired it, failed to see the tender look in Bonnibel's eyes. It's… exactly where Lady Evil's amulet was fused to her. I'm so sorry, Marcy.
As her mind rotated potential things to say, and Rechte prodded her to just talk to her, Finn was already on the case. "That's gotta hurt, huh Marce?" It was less a question and more a gentle reassurance that he was taking her feelings into consideration, that it wasn't just blind determination. "You went through a lot in a really short period of time. I think it makes sense that you feel unstable. But that's what you got your bros for. We're gonna help, Marce."
She shook her head, eyes closed. "No, Finn. Just go before I kill you." This time it was less a threat and more of an 'if/then/else' statement.
Talk to her.
"Marcy… you said that we could talk about my betrayal. If you won't come back to Ooo… could we do so now, and at least have that closure?"
The vampire opened her eye, watching the younger woman. Despite the fatigue it was still a glare, but soon enough her eye closed once more. "Fine. Let's do it fast, before the rage comes back."
Bonnibel chose to believe that her desire to hurry it along was less indicative of her not wanting to take the conversation seriously and more out of genuine concern she could hurt someone. The princess's smile was gentle all the same. "Thank you, Marceline. May I sit down?"
A groan, but to everyone's surprise the older woman removed her leg from its resting place across the mattress, a silent invitation for the princess to not only sit down, but to sit next to her. Bonnibel approached, gently dropping the bag at the base of the bed, minding the axe as she sat, delighted the entire time. The silence was awkward as the young scientist gathered her many, many thoughts, but true to form Marceline functioned by pulling the carpet out from under her. "Why did you keep the dagger, Bonnibel? You made it in case I wigged out, yeah, I get that. But you were always saying that you don't think I'm a monster, but you kept it anyway, even after you gave me this elaborate lie about getting rid of it. So what the flip?!"
Bonnibel took a deep breath, steadying herself against the oncoming storm. She found it was easier if she didn't look at her maybe-mate, especially her fierce glare. From the corner of her eye she tried to spot Finn and Jake, any form of moral support really, but she deserved none and received none. "The short answer, Marcy… is that I kept the dagger because I'm a terribly selfish person who took you for granted."
"True." The confirmation was ice cold, and the princess wondered if that was purposeful or a byproduct of her emotional instability.
She nodded, sighing in recollection of her conversation with Rechte. "When we first met… before I was a princess, our relationship was simple. Even when we were just friends we were still closer than I ever intended. I never anticipated getting so close to someone, because when you're that close that have a certain power over you just by virtue of their existing. We existed together so easily. We just… accepted the way the other was. It was wonderful, but it was also scary. When I showed you the knife it was to admit that I once saw you as a threat, and you only asked that I destroy it. In all honesty, I had every intention to, but I didn't rush to do so because it seemed to me like a non-issue. Silver could hurt you, yes, but we were the only ones to know it existed, and as I kept it within my possession no one could possibly find it and use it against you."
"Except you." The icy tone hadn't thawed, and Bubblegum realized now that it was purposeful.
"...Yes. That's correct. As our relationship evolved I garnered more responsibilities and burdens, whereas you were content to merely exist, taking pleasure in the simple things in life. To put it bluntly, I subconsciously resented you."
"You did all that to yourself, Bonnibel."
She nodded. It didn't make her burdens any less real or important, but they were self-inflicted, and she had prioritized them every single time over the woman she claimed to love. "I did, and some part of me expected… well, it assumed that I was growing up as a result, and you weren't." Now came the tough part of the admission. Prior to the journey into Marceline's psyche she would have been embarrassed, positively humiliated to admit it before her gallant champions- But if they've already seen the worst of Marcy it's only fair they see my weaknesses as well. "I've always been the dominant one in our relationship, and we both know that you both enjoyed and relied on that." She still blushed fiercely, still looked away from anyone. From the vampire, eyes downcast. "I focused on everything I did for you, ignoring everything you did for me. I treated you as an extension of my will and became furious when I considered you misbehaving." Her hand clenched, hard. "We've never been accountable to anyone but one another, and I saw it as my duty to protect you, because some part of me saw you as childish and unreliable. Only now do I see that I wasn't protecting you. I was trying to control you. And… controlling someone is incompatible with loving them."
When she fell silent she expected another outburst, another snappy comment. When none came she lifted her head, bracing herself to look at the half-demon. The one fixing her with a hard stare, mentally weighing her claim. Because it was so unlike the Princess Bubblegum Marceline knew, so unheard of for her to admit weakness, to defer judgment, to let someone else decide anything. ...But it's exactly like Bonnie, like she was before that stupid crown. The musician's heart may be dead and shattered, but she still felt a pang of longing, a brief, ...What if she…? But then she crushed the feeling, pushing it down. Because Princess Bubblegum was a fantastic manipulator and an adept liar. And so as much as Marceline wanted to believe that the candy golem was being honest for a change she had very strict rules against blind hope, blind faith, blind belief. No, Bonnie's gone. This… person. She's not Bonnie. Move on, Marceline. Just kill that part of you bonded to her and get it over with. Yet some small part of her nagged in the back of her mind, and it just wouldn't shut up. "So you just suddenly had a change of heart." The snappy tone had become taunting, but Bonnibel failed to react with the indignity she had expected. Confusing.
"When you put on the amulet, Marcy… your mind shattered into eight, each representing a large piece of your psyche. Each an individual, but unmistakably you." In the back of her mind she began to recite their names like a prayer, just as she did every evening before sleeping, so that she would never forget them, those pieces that made up her happiness. "Do you remember that?"
To her surprise and pleasure, Marceline chose to answer the question, rather than retort with something cruel. "No. I remember emotions and… sensing stuff. I dunno. Hard to explain."
Interesting. No concrete memories. But Bonnibel had her own, the entire trio did, and she secretly hoped the older woman never remembered. If those memories would forever scar them she could only imagine the damage they could do to the musician. "Well… one of them represented your voice of reason. Her name-"
"No. No names."
Quite an odd request, but I won't do anything to hinder your recovery. Even if knowing may actually help-
And then that familiar warning tone. Bon.
...You're right, Rechte. Thank you.
"Very well, no names. But she was detached from your more emotional and sentimental sides, and she understood me better than I understood myself. You understand me better than I understand myself." Her free hand grasped the bedspread as she forced herself to finally meet the queen's eyes. They were hard. Hard, but curious. It was enough. "Do you remember why we went to the Nightosphere in the first place?"
"Yeah. You wanted me to take over the amulet." No bitterness there at all, nope, no-siree.
"Yes." Her nod, her smile was remorseful. "You've always known that my long-term goal was to eventually become queen of Ooo itself. Due to Candy Kingdom law I can only become a queen if I marry royalty. That was my excuse to force you into the Nightosphere."
"I sense a but."
"...Yes. Deep down I always knew that, should your father decide to retire the Nightosphere is yours by default, even if you don't want it to be. There was no reason to force you to take control of the chaos amulet before your time." From behind both Finn and Jake's jaws dropped; they had never been privy to that part of their monarch's conversation. Bonnibel didn't see this demeanor change, but even if she had she would have promptly ignored them both. "I knew you had personal issues to work out, and you were quite honest that wearing the amulet brings out the worst in someone. But you did it anyway, because you wanted me to be happy. It took traversing your shattered mind to realize that I put myself before you. I have been for a long time." The pause hung heavy, the voice in the back of her mind whispering encouragements. "...I don't deserve you, Marcy. I know you're furious, and you have every right to be. I know you may never forgive me, and I won't ask you to. But… I made a lot of promises to you, and I intend to keep them all. The first of which is to help you heal."
Marceline almost choked on her laughter. "Pretty words, Bon. What makes you think I'll believe you? 'Cause it seems like if I go along with this it'll just show you that you can do whatever you want to me."
She took a deep breath, knowing that was coming but being unprepared nonetheless. It wasn't the first time some part of Marceline had voiced that opinion. "I don't think you'll believe me. At least… right away. But I want to learn to be better. You deserve better. I've destroyed the dagger-"
"Yeah, Finn mentioned that." She didn't sound like she believed him, though.
"...I know I have a lot of work ahead of me. Not just for you, but for myself." Because decisions were turning in her mind, ideas to act upon. She knew what she had to do, what she really wanted, deep down, always had, always will. But now was not the time to say it out loud. Mostly because-
"...I don't believe you." It was a whisper, the vampire turning away. Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn't give the younger woman the satisfaction of seeing them. "You've made lots of promises in the past, Bon. You never keep them. I'm disposable to you." It was because she wasn't looking that she missed the tears in the other monarch's eyes. "I think deep down ways I knew you kept it. It'd be just what you'd do. I just… didn't wanna believe it, that you'd have a contingency plan against me. That you'd tell me you love me, knowing you have something that can kill me tucked away for when you get bored." She couldn't stop a bitter laugh. "You know what Phoebe told me once? That I promised to never hurt you… but then she asked if you ever promised you'd never hurt me." Her hand clenched.
It turned her stomach, because Bubblegum knew that even in her darkest moments she had never considered her best friend disposable. But she had considered her a burden, only in brief moments, but had done so nonetheless, and knew that it wasn't a stretch that Marceline should think that of her. Because she had broken promises to her. Because Phoebe's insinuation had been right.
Finn and Jake looked to one another, silently and mutually agreeing on two things: They couldn't let this be the end of it, not when they clearly missed one another, and that Bonnibel wasn't giving Marceline the whole story.
So they would.
"Tell her about the dream, Peebo!"
Despite his enthusiasm her eyes closed in annoyance. If I wanted to tell her about-
"What dream?" Though she still wouldn't look at anyone the curiosity creeped back in her voice, melding with her anguish into a strange and heart-breaking combination.
If she didn't believe me about anything, why would she about this? But Finn had forced her hand, and it was impossible to back out now. "While within your mind I experienced a Cosmic Owl dream." That snapped the half-demon to focus on her once more, on edge now, tense. When she didn't interrupt the princess continued. "The dream revealed many things, chiefly that the Lich would return and that I was queen of Ooo, ruling the other kingdoms as territories." Garnet eyes narrowed, but she didn't say a word. She didn't have to. "Yes… you took over the Nightosphere." You actually looked like you were enjoying yourself. Being the smartest woman in Ooo, she didn't say that part. "We were married, Marcy. We were happy." Despite herself Bonnibel couldn't stop her fond smile at the memory, because even if she hadn't been in control of her body she could still feel what Dream Bonnibel felt, and Dream Bonnibel had been happy with her royal status, but was even happier with her mate.
"What." A nod, the smile becoming a strange cross between nostalgic and sad, but she said nothing. "So you're telling me that the Cosmic Owl gave you a dream while you were in my brain, and this dream just happened to show you what you want." She paused at the absurdity of it, but there was no contesting her disbelief. "You know I can check, right?"
Bonnibel nodded, "Yes, you mentioned that when we were in your mind. Your father has the Cosmic Owl on speed dial." If she didn't know any better she could have sworn she saw bafflement cross Marceline's face, but only for a moment. Then the hard stare returned.
"So you're giving me that story, knowing I can fact-check you." Now her tone turned thoughtful, her sneer a smirk. "You know what, that gives me an idea." She drummed her fingers on her bass's staff in ponderance. "I've heard a lot of junk from you about how sorry and whatevs you are. I'm gonna get to that. But Finn said something right before I went back to Ooo." When she turned, though, it wasn't to the boy. "Jake, you suck at lying, so I'm gonna ask you. Finn said that Bonnie tried to trade her kingdom or something for me coming home. True or false?"
When he shrugged as if it were a non-issue she raised an eyebrow. "Nah, that's true. She literally tried to trade the Candy Kingdom for you." He sniffled. "It was beautiful. Well, not the part where you were dying, but the romantic gesture was the stuff of legend."
"...Wait, when I was dying?"
"Oh yeah, I guess we forgot that part. So yeah, short version is that in order to come home only one of you could do it, and only one of you could absorb the others. She almost got ganked, and the only one who could save her was the one who tried to gank her."
"...One of me tried to gank the other me."
He shrugged once more. "I mean… lots of you tried to gank the others. It was messed up. Anyway though, Lady Evil-"
He froze, paws covering his mouth. Finn froze. Bonnibel froze. Marceline froze. That one didn't last too long.
"...What."
The emotion in the sentiment was unreadable, but grey hands were claws once more, eyes slit against the name. Abruptly very concerned for his brother's safety Finn took over the conversation, voice low and calm. "Yeah, Marce. I know you didn't want names… but I think that one you should know about. One of you was named Lady Evil, and she wanted to come back on her own so she could take over the Nightosphere. The only thing stopping her was the other you, so she staked her in the back. She could totes fix her and we all knew it, but she was a wad and didn't care that seeing any part of you suffering like that…" He trailed off, shaking his head to clear the thought. Once his rage had faded from memory he remembered every small detail; the blood, the stake so deep it stood of its own accord, the open wound that revealed her heart-
"And what's that got to do with Bon?"
"Well, Lady Evil kinda out-PB'd PB. She was mega logical and really sneaky. Just really cold and mondo arrogant. Manipulated everyone in your mind like we were cereal box toys, had been doing it since we got there. I think even before then. But her thing was that she really liked irony and weird punishments." Just like your dad "And Peebles figured out that like king of those would be giving the wad her kingdom."
Marceline's gaze shot to Bonnibel, but if she was hoping to see some indicator of deception - and, honestly, she was - she instead saw only affection. "Well… not my literal kingdom itself. She had no interest in anything but the Nightosphere. But we would marry out of political convenience, giving her the means to not only deny my coronation to queen, but to control the means of production of the Candy Kingdom. Trade agreements, diplomatic relations, law and order… she would have final say in every matter."
"...That's the opposite of why you made me put on the amulet in the first place." She meant for that to sound harsher than it actually came out and inwardly cursed herself for her weakness. "I might not see you wearing a crown right now, Bon, but I'm gonna guess the Kingdom is still yours."
Wanting to encourage this lack of snapping and aggression Finn picked up where he left off. "Well, the thing about Lady Evil is that she was mondo big on contracts and stuff, so we all made a deal. She healed that sorta-ganked part of you and they'd fight, and if she won she got to come back. If we won she let herself get absorbed so you could go home." There was absolutely no reason to tell her about the battle with the Usurper, or any of the other finer details involving Lady Evil, including her literally being Marceline's manifestation of Despair. Especially with the vampire's current bouts of uncontrollable rage. Besides- "She also told Jake to give someone a message for her. Which he still won't tell us."
Jake ignored his brother's squint. "Hey man, Jake the Dog is a fair dealer. You want Jake the Iguana. Guy's a jerk."
Finn turned back to Marceline, eyes full of hope, soon to be dashed. "You don't remember what you told him to tell someone, do you?"
Her eyes narrowed once more, a growl escaping the back of her throat. It was becoming clear very quickly that her tenuous control over her rage was slipping through her fingers. Secretly, he was impressed she had lasted this long. "I told you, dingus, I don't remember anything! Just emotions and stuff!"
He lifted his hands in a universal gesture of 'no harm meant', his tone and smile never wavering. "Just making sure." He almost asked 'what kind of emotions', but quickly determined that this may not be the best time. No, he still had a job to do: get Marceline to return to Ooo. Leaving the room alive was only his secondary goal. As was common with adventurers, or so he told himself.
"Marcy?"
Her glare turned on Bonnibel, but this time the young scientist didn't flinch. Though the circumstances may be vastly different she had centuries of experience in dealing with an overly emotional Marceline. Because what Finn and Jake could never understand, what with being mere mortals and all, was that Marceline had grown as a person, despite what Past Bonnibel had thought. And one of the biggest ways she had changed was in emotion regulation; when she was younger she had a very poor grasp on controlling her emotions, only able to channel them through her music. A very healthy outlet, true, but the Usurper hadn't been entirely inaccurate in assessing that the vampire possessed immense destructive capabilities, that Marceline had been the apocalypse human legends prophesied.
And so Bonnibel slipped easily into a role she had always readily filled, acting as a guiding hand for her lover without being aware of it. Because while Bonnibel herself would inevitably fall apart and need to be pieced together again Marceline would destruct and need someone to contain the blast. What better way to demonstrate what she had learned than to fulfill her traditional role, liberated from those pointy words and sentiments, those back-handed barbs meant to control, not protect. Was she relying on Marceline's promise to never hurt her? No, because she knew she deserved no such protection herself. But she had been sincere in her declaration that she had every desire to learn, to grow, to protect. Marceline had always thought herself a monster, and Bonnibel had every determination to teach her otherwise.
"I know you're having a difficult recovery period, and I imagine some deep part of you wants to tear us apart." From the corner of her eye she watched Jake shrink from being a couch reflexively, hiding behind his brother, who watched him warily. "I can only imagine how much self-control you possess to refrain. It's obvious to me that you've been trying to heal yourself. That's why you've exiled yourself to the Nightosphere, and why you've convinced yourself that it's for the best. But let me ask you just one question?" Perhaps because it was a request, rather than a demand, the vampire tensed, hands claws, but did not attack nor interrupt, granting silent permission. "Centuries in my line of work has assured I consistently have at least one or two muscle knots, and that they can be painful. You've always been the one with the talent for getting them out. I could never figure out how, and one day, after I had hassled you for decades, you finally broke and told me the secret. Do you remember what it was?"
The musician watched her warily, the animalistic stare returning once more. It looked hungry, and Finn was briefly, but graphically, reminded of the time Marceline, red-starved, had tried to disembowel and eat Jake, and every heroic instinct in him screamed to protect the princess, just as loudly as it did in his younger days. Because he could stand the thought of he himself under attack, but he would never lose that need to shield his liege from any and all harm. Even if that harm- No, you gotta let Peebo work. She knows what she's doing. If you get in the way now you might scare Marce off.
Though she was fully aware of the predatory gaze her best friend wore, and the knowledge that she may be operating more on instinct than higher thought, Bonnibel wasn't deterred. Her voice was gentle, and though she herself didn't approach the other woman her hand slowly crept closer. "I remember. I was lying in bed, just enjoying the sensation of having a particularly painful spasm soothed. I remember that this one was the worst I had experienced in over a decade. Remember the large knot? You said it was the size of your thumb. I had been trying to relieve it for days, but after only an hour of your efforts it was almost gone. That was when you taught me the secret. I had been rubbing the knot itself, trying to force it to release. But you taught me that the pain I was feeling wasn't from the knot. You poked an area below it, a very tender spot, and you were so gentle as you rubbed it out. That, you told me, was where the spasm really was. I had been trying to treat its symptom. You treated the cause." Marceline watched her warily, less a predator stalking prey and more a predator prepared to defend its turf from a foreign invader, and entity she couldn't identify.
Bonnibel considered it an improvement.
"Do you understand what I'm saying? You're trying very hard to get better, but you're only treating the symptom. You can't recover here, Marcy. If you keep yourself sequestered in this room those feelings won't stop manifesting, they'll just become harder to control. You could get hurt without realizing it." You could also hurt someone else, but that's less of a priority for me. "You can heal almost any injury, but you shouldn't need to. We're your friends." And family. "We want to bring you home because we really think you belong there. It's true that you're half-demon, and I especially have done a terrible job learning what exactly that means for you, but you aren't defined by half your bloodline. That's not who you are. It's important, but you being safe is more important to me. To all three of us."
"I can protect myself." She was still tense, eyes still slitted, but at least she was speaking again.
"You can. You've spent centuries protecting me and my kingdom, and I know you've protected Finn and Jake on more than one occasion. Now it's time for us to repay the favor."
There was definite hesitation, and though her eyes remained slitted her claws returned to hands. "...No. You've already seen me at my weake-"
"You've seen me at my weakest too, Marce."
She turned to Finn, fixing him with a hard stare as she tried her hardest to recall what it was he was talking about, what that sad tone of voice was, why both Finn and Bonnibel looked confused. She could almost remember it. Reflections flickered in her mind, and she strained to make them clear. Vague fragments taunted her. The spy room, yes, that was coming through. Finn was… what? He was upset. Was that what he was referring to? Being upset? No, she reasoned, it must have been worse than that. She had seen him upset before, seen him cry, made him cry- Oh. Wait! He had a panic attack! That's right! But the memory itself was missing, a great hole where it should be, even if the knowledge that it happened remained. Still, it was hard to call Finn out on something like that, something that was definitely not a lie, even if the finer details were gone.
While Marceline deliberated Jake was struck with an idea. A devious, marvelous plan that made him swell with self-satisfaction, his own ego complimenting itself in how much of a genius he was. As his brain and pride exchanged congratulatory high-fives Jake crossed his arms behind him back innocently, trying very hard not to look smug. "You know, Marce… I can think of a reason to come back to Ooo."
Marceline disliked that arrogant tone and glared at him, but when that failed to even make him wince she had to admit, at least to herself, she was curious. "What," she snapped.
"Just somethin' you can't get here in demon-land. Not even the night sky either! Something much more awesomers."
"What," she growled, hands threatening to become claws once more. It only took one word to cause her to all but freeze.
"Schwabl."
And just like that her eyes dilated, even as she focused on the elder hero. Unseen by her, Bonnibel smiled, shooting her champion a grateful look. "...Schwabl?"
"Uh huh. He misses you," he crooned. "He told me."
She raised an eyebrow. "Schwabl is the most awesome dog ever, present company included, but he doesn't talk, dude."
Jake chose to believe she had misspoke about who the greatest dog ever was. "Nah, he totally told me. He misses you. You wouldn't get it. It's a dog thing."
"No such thing, dip." A deep pause, but it didn't last long. "...How is he?"
Jake grinned. Of course he and Finn had been taking care of him, not that a zombie poodle required much care. But it was no secret how much Marceline loved her zombie poodle, how they had been together even before she was Turned. He was One Of Her Three Favorite People, and her hesitation spoke volumes, a fang poking its way through her lip, betraying her nervousness.
"He does dislike being in the Nightosphere for extended periods of time." Marceline turned, glaring at Bonnibel. But her heart wasn't in it, and it was obvious to the younger immortal. Besides, she was right; the vampire had complained to her more than once that although Schwabl was willing to make the trip he disliked spending more than a couple days there. Possibly because he sensed his person's tension, possibly because it smelled like sulfur. He never really said, and she didn't ask. Once again, because he was a non-talking dog.
But it had the intended effect and she sighed deeply. "...Fine. But I get back here the second I want to-"
She couldn't finish the sentence, because Finn had already crossed the room and was hugging her tightly. "Mathematical! Let's go, Marce!"
She growled, pushing him away with a hand to the face. "Get off, Finn."
The growl didn't dampen his spirits. No, that honor went to Jake. "Uh… is it still day in Ooo? Time is weird here."
His brother blinked, turning to Bonnibel. "Oh snap, I wasn't keeping track. P-Bubs?" But her frown indicated that in a rare lapse of judgment she hadn't been keeping track either. "Alright. Me and Jake will go scope it out, and get Hunson to change the portal to Marce's house." His look to the princess asked, 'will you be alright?' She looked nervous, but her look assured him she'd be fine. And so with a double thumb's up Finn and Jake were gone, leaving the two immortals alone to wait for their return.
It was awkward to say the least, but they wouldn't be alone for long, and Bonnibel intended to take advantage of that. "Look." And then her intentions were dashed, because Marceline beat her to the punch. "I don't know what to think. The dweebs aren't great liars… but I've known you for hundreds of years, and none of that sounds like you."
Fair enough. "I know, Marcy. If I were you I wouldn't necessarily believe me either. I don't expect you to. But I saw pieces of you that were hurt, pieces I exacerbated or just ignored. I was cruel to the person I claimed to love most. I was self-absorbed and treated you more like a servant than my mate. I shattered your trust in me, and I can't even ask for a chance to repair the damage. All I want is to help you heal."
Marceline was silent, rotating the heavy sentiment over in her mind. The rage was ebbing once more, and the Other Emotions were coming back, fighting for dominance in her mind, and it was eating at her mental defenses. "...You know, dad once told me that when people go through a crisis, or when their world just falls to figs, their souls go through changes. I tasted your soul once." Bonnibel nodded, but didn't interrupt. She remembered that day, very clearly. "I could do it again, you know."
Was it a threat? An offer? She knew the answer either way. "No, Marcy. This is the second time my hubris has almost killed you. The first time was terrifying, and I should have remembered it was terrifying. But you forgave me so readily that I just… blocked it out. I just assumed you would again if anything went wrong this time, and I did so because I didn't have to demonstrate that I learned anything. This is my opportunity to not take the easy way out. If you taste my soul you'll see my honesty, but then this could keep happening." She paused, because the next admission would be difficult for both of them. "You could taste my soul, and it would show that I'm being truthful, but it wouldn't show you whether or not it will regress to what it was. I don't know if I'm capable of changing, Marcy, but you once told me that we only grow through pain, because it shows us what's important to us. You're important to me. In your mind I made a promise to you, that no matter how you heal I'm going to help you."
Marceline fell silent once more, biting her cheek in ponderance. When she tasted the metallic dead blood she released her hold. "I don't know if I can forgive you. But I'll give you a chance." The words felt filthy in her mouth, but they also felt right. You won't last, though. You'll leave again. It's… what you do. The sentiment was kept to herself.
The princess was dumbstruck, too stunned to reply. But the little voice in the back of her mind wasn't.
See, Bon? Your heartguts stuff might be stunted but they're still there. You can still be your same old self. You know, destroy people and whatevs. Just remember, they're weapons. Attractive weapons, but still. Use with caution, you know?
She did. Both royals fell silent, the air tense. Finally the older woman sighed and rose from her position on the footboard. "If the dweebs are gonna take forever I might as well change." A single glance made the statement quite clear: Bonnibel was not allowed to watch. The princess nodded, indicating that she both understood and would respect her privacy. Satisfied that her demand was being heeded Marceline rested her bass against a post and took to her armoire as Bonnibel turned away, leaving the vampire to disrobe from her pajamas and redress in peace.
In was only then that the young scientist noticed the bedside table, the giant grey demon claw, spotless glass supported by three talons. Or, more specifically, the first time she noticed the single object resting on it. A picture frame forged from the fusion of dozens of spotless, albeit sharp, nails. Knowing that Marceline was occupied a pink hand reached out, carefully lifting the frame, turning it silently and just enough to confirm-
"You… kept the picture we took?"
Objectively speaking, it was a terrible photograph. The lighting was wrong, it was grainy, and overexposed. But then, that was to expected of a picture hundreds of years old. Bonnibel stroked the frame with her thumb, remembering the grass under her hands, how the two had laughed hysterically trying to hold one another as Marceline angled the picture telekinetically, but Bonnibel just wouldn't hold still and it was really really distracting. How hard she had tried to take a picture of both monarchs - of course, only one of them was a monarch back then - with the night sky as a backdrop. Because this was a very special night. It was a younger - much younger - Marceline, laying with her back against a bright brown tree, wrapped up in a soft fluffy pink blanket, a younger - much younger - Bonnibel laying with her head on her chest, content and unconcerned. It came out poorly in the picture, but behind the pair was the faint light of a meteor shower, the same event that came to Ooo every year.
The picture she held in her hands was hundreds of years old, had been taken before there was even a Candy Kingdom. They were laughing, Bonnibel's squirming making it almost impossible for the vampire to focus the camera, making the picture horribly off-center. Years later they would jokingly refer to this night as their first date, but of course where does the line blur between best friends and more? But it was a magical night nonetheless, because that was the night Bonnibel decided that whatever home she made for herself would never be complete without the older woman, and it was the night Marceline decided maybe immortality wasn't a terrible idea after all. The princess didn't think the picture survived after all of these years, but then the Nightosphere, where time essentially stopped, seemed like a good place to keep it safe. But, in all honesty, she hadn't expected the older woman to still have the thing after what Bubblegum did to her, let alone keep it on her bedside table.
When silence was her only response she chanced a look out of the corner of her eye, blushing fiercely at what she saw: the back of her perhaps-lover, a fresh shirt clutched in her hand. She was topless, maroon bra bare. It was the first time in what Bonnibel decided was too long since she had seen any bare part of her mate. Not since Tyrant- She cut that thought off before the voice of Rechte could remind her of so many obvious facts. Despite her appreciating the view, as tame as it was, she couldn't help but notice the freshly healed claw marks decorating the grey-skinned woman's sides, strange cuts and punctures on her upper left arm. Something about that, about the marks' positions specifically, bothered her, some memory trying to surface. Realizing that she was staring she whipped her head back, away from the otherwise pleasing view.
"...Yeah. It means a lot to me."
As the rustle of fabric returned Bonnibel blinked, trying to process that tidbit. Fortunately, she had an assistant.
You heard that, right?
Yes. It means a lot to her.
Bon, she said it in the present tense. 'It means a lot', not 'meant a lot.'
It took all of her centuries of experience in remaining a look of impartiality for the princess to resist beaming at that realization, because that voice that reminded her so much of Rechte was right. Perhaps it was a slip of the tongue, but something deep within her, in that new, squishy part of her that she was trying to nurture, told her it wasn't. Does some part of her miss me? She and Marceline had always agreed that hope was a dangerous thing, but given the choice between it and despair-
Yeah, you've totes met Despair already, and she's not cool, huh Bon?
-she would choose hope. Actually, she'd normally choose 'relentless logic', but 'relentless logic' was how she got into this mess in the first place, so it could take a flying-
"Alright." Taking that as permission to turn back she found Marceline had indeed dressed, the band t-shirt replaced with a forest green long-sleeved shirt featuring a black X across both shoulders to her hips, her slacks exchanged for a pair of black jeans that seemed torn beyond what should be acceptable fashion, but then Bonnibel had to admit that even after six centuries she just didn't understand 'punk rock' fashion and mentally left it at that. With a sense of searing guilt she realized that Marceline had completely covered her throat's scar, hiding it under a soft, supple-looking royal purple collar. She almost seemed to glare at Bubblegum, a growl almost escaping her when she saw green eyes trail over it, but instead she sighed, the rage she could no longer control ebbing away. Not that it made it any easier to look at the other woman, and instead distracted herself by finding where her grey sneakers had wandered off to. By the time they could be located Finn and Jake had still not returned, causing her to frown. "Let's go find the twerps." Without waiting for confirmation she snatched her bass and floated to the door, almost colliding with it when it was abruptly slammed open.
"Awesome, so it's- ...Oh, sorry Marce-"
Finn had only a moment to duck before the axe swung, almost taking his head with it. It was years of experience in being Ooo's more rockin' hero that he had seen the attack coming, that Jake had enough time to dive, just in case she decided to turn her strike vertically. In fact, she stopped just moments from doing so, blinking. She sighed deeply, strapping her instrument to her back. "Sorry, Finn." It was a mutter. A sincere mutter.
The boy only smirked. "Nah, don't worry about it. I shoulda been more careful." He meant it, too; although he logically knew his best ladybro was badly hurt he was still getting used to the knowledge that she wasn't herself yet, couldn't fully control her actions or emotions yet, that she may say or do things she didn't mean. Or did mean, but didn't mean to say. After meeting her components it made perfect sense, and he didn't blame her for it. He just hoped he wouldn't die in the process of helping her. Deep down he knew his brother agreed, even if Jake was currently glaring at the vampire through squinted eyes. "But yeah, awesome news, ladybros! It's gettin' dark, so it'll totes be night by the time we get home!" He emphasized 'home' just a tad, but the eldest member of the group didn't seem to notice. Instead she seemed puzzled.
"...Night?" Grey fingers drummed on the bass's staff in ponderance. "...Oh. Right. The Sky Ball of Death."
Finn felt a pang in his heart at his friend's deadpanned comment. He had forgotten that 'night' and 'day' hadn't existed in her mind, and that while she had indeed seen the night sky since escaping the wasteland of her subconscious she had only seen it once, and hadn't seen the sun in over a century, subjectively at least. It would be vital to reintroduce her to the day in a way that didn't risk her either Truly Dying or retreating to the Nightosphere. But that was a problem for Future Finn. Present Finn had his own problems. "Yup, no Sky Ball of Death. Just the moon and stars. Hunson's gonna drop us off right at your house. It didn't really change a lot in your mind, so it's probs a good place to start. Also Schwabl."
Her puzzlement continued. "Changed?"
Jake nodded, finally returning to his previous position, now secure in the knowledge that the vampire queen wasn't going to gank him. Deja vu man. "Oh yeah. In your mind everything was messed up. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be. Like in a fun house! But… not fun. Your house got some color scheme changes, but it looked pretty normal. Finn and me - mostly me, 'cause I have the best ideas, look it up - think it's a good starting point." He paused. "Also Schwabl." Another pause. "We'll try there, then once you're good with that we'll try the other areas that didn't really change!"
Marceline snorted, but didn't contest the assertion. It wasn't like she had actual memories of her broken mind, and the memories she had of Ooo proper were broken, blurred, or otherwise unreliable. But it bothered her on a deep, instinctive level that the trio in her room now officially knew more about her than she knew about herself, and that they now knew all about her, even the parts she would never want anyone to know. Even still, reason won out; it made sense, even to her, that she should at least try to return to Ooo, if for no other reason to say she did so and ultimately chose to stay in her birthright homeland. At least then they'd have to leave her alone.
Right?
"Fine. Let's get those over with." And with that she opened the door and floated down the hall without so much as a backward glance. Finn and Jake glanced to one another, grinned at their mutual victory, and took off after her, leaving Bonnibel to grab her bag and close the door behind her, easily catching up with the others in the silent trek to Hunson's office. Without knocking - because why would she? - Marceline opened the door and poked her head in. "The Dork Brigade is making me go back to Ooo for awhile. Be back later. Tell Jan that if he touches my stuff again I'm breaking his other leg." She thought she heard him call back 'have fun, little monster!', but chose to believe she hadn't. Once the door was roughly closed she turned to Finn.
"Alright, kid. Lead the way."
Thank you all so much for all the love you give me. It makes my day 100%, and is SUPER encouraging. Each chapter takes me about 8 hours to write on average, and you guys literally are the reason I do it. Yay for all of you!