Opening Act

by CountingWithTurkeys

Redemption and recovery may come at a steep cost, but the Rehearsal is over and it's time for Bonnibel and Marceline to decide if the price is one they're willing to pay.

15. Stress Test

Real talk: And we're back! As Lady Evil announced in a tumblr blurb (because I post trivia and announcements there), this story has officially gotten longer than I originally anticipated. Depending on how this next arch goes I might need to increase the chapter count again, but for now it's holding at 27, up from 26.

The contest on my tumblr has concluded, and in a final vote of 6 to 5 you guys have voted in favor of a Symphony Universe timeline. Because the vote was so close I'm compromising with myself. I've posted a timeline, as promised, but I've posted it on my profile so that it's out of the way. As more stories (or chapters, such as in the case of Love Song) release the timeline will be updated. This way, though, if you want the timeline it's there, if you don't it's not.

Thank you so much, I love you all for all of the attention and reviews you've given me. Please enjoy this nice fat chapter.

Content Warnings:

Feels

Survivor's Guilt

Discussion of Mental Trauma

Allusions to Disassociation

Graphic Violence

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One of the very first disagreements Marceline Abadeer and Bonnibel Bubblegum ever experienced in their six centuries of friendship was regarding the nature of control. While both agreed that the universe and all there within would always teeter between the two forces of chaos and order they differed on the opinion of which was the natural state of things or, to put it another way, whether or not chaos could be controlled, whether or not order could be indefinitely maintained.

Bonnibel, whose obsession with control had long ago crossed into fanaticism, proudly declared that order was the natural state of the universe; no matter how wrong things went they would, in time, try to right themselves, and that this held true at all levels and for all creatures and matters. For example, she would argue, after Ooo had been initially lost to the chaos following the human apocalypse what remained of the world banded together to form new societies. Even those creatures who thrived on chaos were brought to heel, if not all-together eradicated, in an effort to restore the balance.

Marceline, being one of those creatures, could not disagree more. If, she would counter, order ever reached a critical mass it would always descend into chaos because the very concept of order implies nothing can change, and that which stagnates collapses and dies. Chaos is the price, and order is nothing more than a desperate attempt of making sense of the senseless. It could not be controlled nor could it be reasoned with, because discord had no motive or meaning beyond just propagating and making more of itself. In short, Marceline would smirk, Bonnibel could enjoy whatever order she wanted, it wouldn't stop it from being a fragile illusion, and no declaration from the ruling class could change it.

As Bonnibel surveyed their bedroom she couldn't help be reminded of this centuries-old argument. Previously, as early as the night before, it had been in pristine condition, with everything in its place. It had been tidy, clean, organized, and absolutely clutter-free. Not so, not anymore. Papers littered the floor alongside pens, with a pen-to-paper ratio too off for her obsessive comfort. Some of the papers were balled up or partially burnt, but all seemed to have missed her pink wastebasket for some inexplicable reason. Those not damaged were covered in strange symbols, immaculate handwriting, or simple doodles. Some were even honest-to-goodness blueprints, or lists with names and numbers, many of which were crossed out. The center of the bed hosted a particularly elaborate blueprint, superimposed over a topographical map of the Grasslands.

Above the mess of a room floated Marceline herself, upside-down and with a black pen clasped in her left hand, a surprisingly neat and orderly bunch of papers in her right that she every-so-often wrote on. Bonnibel surveyed the room from her vantage point of her diagnol left, sat at her desk in front of her own bundle of papers, her own pen tucked in her gummy hair behind her ear. Despite the state of the room she found herself smiling because there was chaos, but it was purposeful. She wondered absently if this was another nuance she missed in her younger days because of her arrogance, because it was weirdly beautiful: the room appeared absolutely trashed, but she knew exactly where everything was and knew exactly where everything would go when they were finished with their task.

You including Marceline in that?

Of course I am. The princess glanced up, just enough to view the lovely sight of Marceline concentrating intently. She was engrossed to the point she had forgotten to breathe for several hours now, and despite how much Bonnibel missed the sound she couldn't fault the reason for its absence. After all, Marceline rarely focused on anything not prank-related for this long and with this intensity, and there was something oddly beautiful about it. Maybe it's because we're so close to her natural environment. Yes, that must be it, she reasoned. After all, if planning for a concert wasn't part of her natural environment what was? It had taken much, but once Bonnibel had successfully convinced her lover to let her handle the 'brainlord stuff' as she so put it Marceline had realized she had more time than she was used to to compose music and devise a set list. Those extra hours of work had been worth it to Bonnibel, just to see that look of elation in those garnet eyes, to see just a glint of the old spark return. Watching her shakily pick up a pen, watching her try to compose, gave Bonnibel a surge of pride, even if she would never voice it. In the vampire's deranged mind only Lady Evil herself had been capable of creating music. If she's starting to compose again then it's further evidence you will not win this, Lady Evil. She'll heal. She's doing it right now. Sure, she was noticeably struggling, and Marceline was noticeably frustrated at times, but progress was progress, as made evident by the papers clutching honest-to-goodness sheet music and accompanying lyrics.

And, really, even silent victory aside it made perfect sense: divide the tasks they were best at independently, then meet in the middle for those tasks that better allowed them to pool their respective talents. Bonnibel's tasks were those parts of planning a concert Marceline was reluctant to admit she disliked: finding a place for a stage that was both close enough to welcome all sorts of fans while being far enough away to avoid her music being interrupted or disturbed by uncool denizens wielding torches and pitchforks; building or at least finding a stage in the first place; knowing how to allocate resources towards running the show and acquiring staff; an understanding of weather patterns to make sure it wouldn't rained out… there were any number of menial tasks the half-demon hated doing. Even watching her attempt to make sense of the topographical map had been adorable, and with a brief hug and a well-concealed smile Bonnibel had taken it out of her hands, replacing the parchment instead with her bass.

The younger woman hadn't realized until that moment how much she missed working with Marceline's music accompanying her. It had been uncertain at first, the queen clearly nervous about something. It had been Rechte to point out that Princess Bubblegum hadn't always been the most encouraging of her practice sessions, and on more than one occasion she had pointed out the moments Marceline's eyes had darted instinctively to the window, even if it was day now and the only thing protecting the musician was the pair of black-out curtains. Once it had been pointed out to her, though, Bonnibel made every intention clear that she was enjoying their shared project, including - if not especially - her lover practicing.

Hours later her discomfort was forgotten, and Marceline alternated between scribbling strange symbols on a paper and playing a few… chords, was it? Bonnibel frowned, disappointed in herself for not remembering. "What are you working on, Marcy?"

It never stopped fascinating her that Marceline could both create music from scratch and have an independent conversation simultaneously. "I like to have at least one or two new songs for my fans when I have concerts. Can't just do old stuff, you know?" Even the vampire was in work mode, and Bonnibel was grateful for it. It was of her own personal opinion that work was a wonderful distraction from things that made her stressed, one of the best outlets for life's problems. Like mental trauma.

Bonnibel watched the vampire from the corner of her eye, even as she took her own notes. By now she had found a suitable location, but the weather patterns she had calculated were proving less-than-cooperative. "So that you grow as an artist?"

Marceline nodded, plucking a string, grimacing, then trying again. "Yeah. I still rep punk rock, but I can't just stick with what I know. It gets boring for everyone, so I always try a new thing. Doesn't always work out," she shrugged, "but at least I tried it."

Bonnibel nodded, no longer pretending to work. It - all of this - was too much like having the old Marceline back. Sure, the older woman got frustrated in keeping with her moods and their ebb-and-flow, and she had needed, reluctantly, to stop for a nap on occasion. But everything else? The way she talked about her work, how her calloused fingers slid across the nickel-plated steel strings, the absent humming of the tune she was trying so hard to bridge between her mind and her bass… it was just so familiar, and it reminded the princess of home. It was a bittersweet reminder though, and even though she could hear Rechte chastising her from the back of her mind it was impossible for her overly-analytical brain not to focus on how many times she could have had this and instead dismissed it, how many times Marceline must have had to split her energy between the tedium of planning the concert's practicalities and doing what she was obviously born to do, how many-

"Bon?" The candy golem's blink snapped her out of her toxic thoughts. Somehow, Marceline forgiving her had only increased her own sense of self-loathing, and rather than feel the relief of having her mate in her arms once more the thought always came coupled with a sense of guilt, of knowing that, deep down, she had found something beautiful and wanted to destroy it. Before her consciousness could be pulled down into the mire once more a gentle, cool hand on her cheek saved her. "Hey," the musical voice prompted gently, "what's going on?"

Before she could think better of it Bonnibel's head shook and she twisted to return to her task. "I'm… just tired."

It wasn't good enough, and with a frown Marceline pulled the chair away from the matching pink desk, turning it around until the two women faced once more. Something pained existed in those garnet eyes now, and it only turned the candy golem's stomach more. "Bon… stop. You wanted me to set boundaries, right? You gotta talk to me. I already don't know what's going on in Ooo… I can't not know what's going on with you, too. I gotta have something."

Bonnibel's mouth opened, a reflexive 'I'll handle it', or perhaps 'it's nothing', or something else equally dismissive almost escaping. Then she realized that that would be exactly what Marceline asked her not to do, exactly what Princess Bubblegum would have done, and her mouth closed. She nodded, but looked away, acutely aware of their role reversal, of how she was now sitting in the vampire's proverbial shoes, wrestling with emotions she was afraid to express. But why am I afraid? That was a deeper question, and not one she was ready for just yet. Somehow, admitting this weakness instead was the lesser evil. "...This was all my fault, Marceline." How had her voice gotten that grave? She sighed. "See? We were having fun and… now I'm-"

"Hey," Marceline gently interrupted. "Stop that, okay? We're still having fun, and I can't go through all of this if I have to always wonder if you're hiding something like this. What's wrong?" When the princess failed to answer the vampire tilted her head, trying to catch her gaze. When that failed as well she had her answer. "How long have you felt this way?"

"What way?," she asked quietly, not able to bring herself to meet garnet eyes no matter how nice that hand felt on her cheek.

To her astonishment, Marceline let go but only to right herself and float next to the younger royal. "I'm gonna guess… guilty? Probably don't feel too good about yourself, huh?" The words looked like a taunt, but they were gentle. Understanding. Experienced. "I know what that's like."

"That's the point, Marcy." Bonnibel shook her head, but didn't resist when her queen pulled her in for a hug. "I wrecked everything. I almost-"

"How long have you been sitting with this, Bon?" The question wasn't without affection, but was knowing.

But she wanted an answer, and lying to Marceline was something Princess Bubblegum had less of a problem with than Bonnibel herself. Unfortunately… "I can't, Marcy," she whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because-" I'm a coward "-it's been since I was in your mind… and I don't think it's something you're ready to hear about yet." Marceline watched her carefully, but whereas Princess Bubblegum's eyes in this situation would be filled with harsh accusations the vampire's were filled with something gentler, something warmer. Somehow it made everything worse. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to be happy. Not after-

"Be honest, Bon." It was… an encouragement?

"I don't know how." That one was an admission.

"I know," Marceline's smile was sad. "Try anyway?"

A deep, cleansing sigh. Or at least a valiant attempt at one. "Everything is just… it's all a reminder of everything I had but took for granted. I know you're going to say that I need to just start thinking about the future instead, but it doesn't work that way for me, Marcy. You were trapped in your mind for a hundred years, but I was only there for… two weeks? Maybe? I don't deserve-"

The hug tightened, softly silencing the princess. "I guess… I never really thought about what it was like for you guys. I've just been so mad and tired and junk all the time…" Now it was her turn to sigh. "Sorry, Bon."

Bonnibel blinked, pulling away. "Why are you apologizing?"

Marceline rubbed the back of her neck. "I mean… I prob should have thought about that earlier, right? I mean… you shouldn't have had to bottle everything up just to help me."

"You were the one whose mind was shattered." It took a great deal of effort to emphasize each word in a manner that didn't suggest the vampire was an idiot. She wasn't an idiot. But she did let her heart get in the way of her objectivity, especially where the princess was concerned. Why don't you see that this is all to help you?

"Well… yeah. But until I get better enough I'm kinda relying on you, right? And I don't really like seeing you like this, Bon. You know… hurt."

She does see, Bon. She just doesn't care.

Why did that make her feel worse? "I know… I'm sorry. I should have…" What, exactly? Told you? Hidden it better?

"It's alright, Bon."

"What is?"

"Showing weakness to someone who cares about you." And without a trace of sarcasm in her voice, too. Once more the younger woman was pulled into her arms. "I'm not gonna just back out of forgiving you, Bon. And I already know you're strong. You don't need to pretend like anything else."

Bonnibel closed her eyes, resting her head on her shoulder. That was the good thing of the older woman's grey tanktop: it allowed easy access to her cool skin. Somehow, it was reassuring. "...I need to deserve you," she mumbled.

"Deserve's not a real thing, Bon. I'm here 'cause I wanna be, and when I'm done training with Phoebe and the dweebs I'll come back 'cause I wanna. Just enjoy the break."

There may be a smirk in her voice but there wasn't in Bonnibel's. "...Just.. come back safely, okay?"

Marceline rolled her eyes, but only after making sure it would be unseen. "I'll be fine, dork. The dweebs know I can't travel until night, and the Sky Ball of Death doesn't work the same way in the Fire Kingdom, so I'm good there. Pheebs just wants to focus on my fire right now, and since that can't hurt me I'm good."

Bonnibel sighed, nodded, but didn't pull away. Both because the embrace was nice, and because- "So it's all confirmed? You've contacted the boys?"

Marceline nodded, then snickered, still not letting her newly-forgiven lover go. "Yeah… had to use your phone, though. Can't find mine. Oh man, you shoulda been there when Finn picked up. Thought I was you."

Despite herself Bonnibel couldn't help smiling. "What did you do?"

"Why BonBon, whatever do you mean?," she asked without a shred of innocence.

A pink eyebrow raised as she pulled back, staring expectantly. "I know you did something."

"I mean… I did screech into the phone, and he did scream like a twerp and then there was this awesome crash..." Bonnibel continued to stare expectantly. "He's fine! Jake said he was just bleeding a little! It's good for kids to bleed sometimes!"

Bonnibel watched her mate thoughtfully, and silently. Then, "...That's it, I'm going with you."

Marceline groaned, pulling away. "Bon, I'll be fine. They called Phoebe, she said we can practice there, it's totes cool."

"Be that as it may-"

The vampire chuckled. "Bon, chill. I'll be fine. The dweebs are half-decent at this adventuring thing, and Pheebs knows what she's doing with the fire and stuff."

"And you'll stay inside during the day?"

Garnet eyes rolled. "Bon, as much as I'm loving this 'Overprotective Mate' thing trust me, okay? I won't do anything too dangerous. It's why you're staying here, remember? So I don't accidentally…"

When she trailed off Bonnibel exhaled, cupping her cheek. "I know, Marcy. I trust you… I just…"

"...This is the first time we've been apart since you dragged me out of the Nightosphere?" There was a joke in there, but it fell flat. Mostly because it was true.

"It… feels odd, I admit. After we left your mindscape I spent almost two months without you, and now weeks solely in your presence."

"Yeah," the half-demon sighed. "It does feel weird. But it's just for a couple of days, Bon. You can always call the dweebs or Phoebe if you need me to come back early." And you'll probs do it just to check up on me anyway.

The princess brightened. "Oh, yes! I forgot!" She pulled away in favor of the nightstand and Marceline found herself missing the warmth. "While I'm sure Finn, Jake and-" to a lesser extent "-Phoebe will be responsible regarding your training I don't feel comfortable without the ability to contact you directly should the need arise, or vice versa." The sound of the drawer opening, the sound of rummaging, the sound of the drawer sliding shut preceded the princess's return. "Here," she said softly, placing a smooth, light object in her lover's grey palm.

Marceline raised an eyebrow, then looked to her closed hand, puzzled. It certainly felt like- "...A holo-crystal?"

Bonnibel smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "Oh, not just any holo-crystal, Marceline. Take a closer look."

With a raised eyebrow of her own Marceline uncurled her hand and stared at the small object. It was a crystal, that much was true, but until this moment every holo-crystal the queen had ever seen was marquise-shaped and a solid color, typically some shade of pink due to their creator's personal bias. This object, on the other hand, was triangular and was just a hair off from fitting snugly in the palm of her hand. Rather than be a solid if not translucent color it was patterned; fractals of red and black and green seemed embedded in the shape itself, patterns repeating somehow endlessly in the small canvass, making the older woman almost dizzy to stare at for too long. It was hard to tell the direction of the fractals or even its orientation, for no matter which way she turned the device the pattern never seemed seem to change direction.

"This is a very special holo-crystal, Marcy. It only connects to one other holo-crystal which, in turn, only connects to it."

Marceline tore her eyes away, looking back to the princess. "Let me guess… yours, right?"

Already Bonnibel was holding up the holo-crystal's partner, a trillion cut that seemed embedded with a strange mosaic pattern made of lilac and pink curves, all flowing together in one elongated signature; whereas the fractal's colors were harsh these colors were gentle and cool. It was equally hypnotic, but this time Marceline was ready for it, making it a point to look at its owner, and not the crystal. If the princess was aware of the effect either crystal seemed to have on the musician she didn't show it. "I've been working on these off and on, during your rests. While Finn, Jake, and Phoebe have their phones I'm not content to rely on them for communication. Until we can replace your phone-" because I seriously discount the idea of returning to your house to find it among the rubble "-we still need to be able to communicate. What makes these holo-crystals unique is that they can reach across the dimensional barrier."

"...They do what?"

Bonnibel laughed softly, a sound not derisive, merely amused. "The first time we went to the Nightosphere I took samples of the landscape. It occurred to me that if I used those samples I could devise a way to communicate with its host homescape. The original holo-crystals function quite adequately within Ooo itself, but if one of us were to leave this dimension we would have no way of finding one another."

"...You think I'm gonna go back to the Nightosphere." It wasn't quite an accusation, but there was hurt in it.

Bonnibel offered a soft smile, taking her free hand in her own to lace their fingers. "I don't think so, no. I think you have every intention of coming home and giving me the full update on how your training session went, and to help me finish planning the concert. But I prepare for every eventuality I can, Marcy, and what if something attacks you, or you feel unsafe and instinctively return to the Nightosphere? What if it's retreat or risk being caught in daylight? Or if you become separated from the others for some reason? It's not like you'd be able to call me even if you did have your phone, and I would be worried to death. This is as much… well, no. This is more for me than it is for you." She squeezed the hand, hesitating before pulling Marceline into her arms. "I've already almost lost you. This is just a contingency so that no matter what we can find one another."

In the old days, the bad old days, Marceline would have bristled at that logic, would have taken it as her leash tightening ever more. Now she knew better, now she knew this wasn't control or even paranoia, this was Bonnibel letting her go and trusting her to return as best she knew how. Did I really expect her to let me go with the guys without her doing something like this? No, because then she wouldn't be Bonnibel, her Bonnibel. Even before the crown the candy golem had been like this. Paranoid, controlling, but oddly sentimental in her own way, in a language only Marceline herself seemed to speak. Besides, the vampire had watched her make the holo-crystals; they weren't easy to create, and she could only imagine how long the princess must have really been working to get not just one but two functional. This was the type of affection Marceline had always known Bonnibel to possess: buried in science, but straight from her heart.

And she looked adorably nervous, too.

With a lop-sided smirk Marceline made a grand show of looping the string around her neck. "Thanks, Bon. I'll keep it safe."

Even more adorably, Bonnibel positively beamed at the praise. "Oh! I forgot to mention! Both the crystal itself and its strap are fireproof. Granted, I haven't been able to stress-test it against your white flame, but they can both withstand heat in excess of-"

"Science. Got it," she snickered.

Bonnibel was less than amused. "...But I trust such safety measures will be unnecessary, because you wouldn't dream of doing anything too dangerous while you're still recovering. Correct, Marceline?"

Her tone made it quite clear that there was only one right answer. The vampire still chuckled, though. "I promise, Bonnie. I told the guys that we met up with dad and I just wanna get this fire thing under control. They didn't even push it." That gave her pause. "...Which is actually weird, now that I think about it, since I've almost killed them like a billion times now."

It was through centuries of masking her true intentions that Bonnibel remained composed at that suspicious tone in her lover's voice. After all, the trust they were beginning to build was fragile, and it couldn't be ruled out that her little conversation on the phone with Finn would shatter it all. Without meaning to she took Marceline's hand in her own once more. Fortunately, the vampire didn't seem to pick up on this behavior as odd. "I'm certain it's because, well…" She gave the older woman a knowing, gentle smile. "You've been through a lot, Marcy. No one wants to push you to do anything before you're ready. This isn't a race. Remember what we talked about? How healing is often paradoxical?" She ran her pink thumb on the underside of the cool wrist until she saw the confliction melt away.

"...Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I'm just not used to it, I guess. Any of it. I know no one is, but…" She shook her head, letting herself be pulled into a hold. "...You'll be here when I get back, right?"

Bonnibel nodded, stroking down her onyx mane. "I will, Marcy. It'll only be for a couple of days, and once you come home you'll tell me all about your training and we'll finish up planning for your concert."

Marceline nodded and, to the princess's delight, didn't pull away. "What are you going to do while I'm gone? Princess stuff?"

Meet with your father. "Something like that. I'm going to take this opportunity to clear my schedule of some of the more unpleasant and tedious meetings and duties I am responsible for. That way when you come back you'll be my sole priority, rather than just my top one." Something about that, something about the way she said it, caused Marceline to blush slightly. Bonnibel was too polite to point it out, but not too polite to quirk her lips knowingly. Cute, Marcy. It was something she had picked up on, this becoming embarrassed by off-handed comments.

She's probably not used to it, since she was always your afterthought. Doubt she's ever thought of herself as your anything. Well, anything positive anyway-

Rechte's insight was interrupted by a familiar ringtone. Marceline pulled away sharply at the sudden noise, hissing reflexively as Bonnibel went to retrieve the device from her desk. The queen sighed, not bothering to listen to the impending conversation; there was only one reason the phone would go off, and it was time for her to grab her black backpack, dug straight out of her trunk. Her backpack, which was hanging by its strap from the bottom left bedpost, next to her bass. Which… seems to be already packed. Although she rolled her eyes she couldn't help but smile. There was no way of telling what Bonnibel had included, but Marceline had no intention of begrudging her by investigating. If being overprotective made her happy- then it's a pretty mondo big improvement over Princess Bubblegum. Maybe one day she'd be able to think that title without the accompanying invisible shudder. Maybe.

"The boys are out front. It's almost dark."

"...Yeah."

Awkward silence, awkward standing. It was odd to Marceline how two days could feel like such a wide chasm when they had spent up to months apart at a time. It was even odder to know that she would actually miss Bonnibel, genuinely miss her, without some lingering negative emotion festering in the back of her mind, without any recent reminders of when she had last earned the younger woman's ire. Not too long ago the vampire had been all-too happy to cut the candy golem out of her life, maybe even kill that part of her soul so bonded to her. Now? Now everything was different, every feeling, every thought. All that remained was that familiar tug in her soul that was too instinctive to understand why it was leaving again, that could not be reasoned with or reassured. What the flip did you do to me, Bonnie?

She heard the footsteps behind her before she felt the warm hand on her shoulder. "Are you ready?"

Marceline exhaled loudly, considering her options. She could say no, she supposed, and leave the mystery of whether or not she was even capable of controlling her fire, controlling herself, well enough alone. She wanted to, really, because the implications were just too profound and because she really wanted to just turn into something small and hide under the bed. But there was hope in her favorite green eyes, and she was smiling Bonnibel's smile, the one that always made her will bend. "...Yeah. Let's do it."

Without meaning to Bonnibel kissed her grey cheek, and without meaning to Marceline let it happen unnoticed. When the candy golem began to make her way out of their rooms the half-demon strapped her bass to her back, hefted her bag, and followed silently. Too silently for the younger woman's taste, and she slowed her gait to let the half-demon catch up. "It's alright, Marcy. I understand you're worried about what might happen, but that worry is exactly why we're doing this. The boys will be able to stop you if need be, but I don't believe it'll even be necessary. This isn't an exercise in your bloodlust or anything so advanced, only your fire."

Marceline frowned. "Yeah, but that's kinda the point, Bon. I get that the Fire Kingdom is literally fire and stuff, but nothing burns hotter than demon fire. I could-"

"Marceline." Bonnibel stopped, bringing her queen to a halt next to her. Before she could pull away the young scientist cupped her cheek, catching her gaze. Not an easy thing to do. "Don't worry," she soothed. "As much as I hate to admit it I believe Phoebe is the correct person to train you. She may not be able to burn as hotly-" or beautifully "-as you, but she does know about losing control while possessing the capacity to destabilize the planet's inner core temperature. The issue isn't how hotly your fire can burn, it's controlling when it turns demonic. Control, not power."

"I guess…"

Bonnibel took her lover's cool hand, tugging her gently forward, down the steps and through the empty foyer. "You'll be alright. I promise."

Though she looked unconvinced, Marceline nodded. "...Alright, Bon. I trust you."

For some inexplicable reason. "Thank you." There was more to say, more to admit, but Bonnibel never got the chance before-

"Yo, ladybro and other ladybro! Your knights in shining armor are here to escort you to the most rockin' kingdom outside of… this kingdom!"

Before Finn's enthusiasm. Marceline shot Bonnibel a look, but her mate only smiled as she watched her human champion dismount from her canine champion, who was grinning just as widely. "Greetings, Finn and Jake! Thank you for your generous assistance once more, and on such short notice."

"Phft. No prob, PB," Finn grinned. When he caught Marceline floating behind the princess he waved to her as well, taking no offense at all when she only spared him a passing glance. "Hey Marce! How ya feelin'?" A glare. "That good, huh?" Perhaps in the old days such an action would have wounded his friendship-pride. Now he knew better, now he could read the signs. Marceline was clearly anxious, and looked just a smidge tired. No doubt she was repressing the ebb and flow of her moods, and though the young champion may have imagined it it almost looked like she was hovering a little too closely to his princess. None of this, he knew, should be drawn attention to. "Well no worries! Your best bros are here to escort you to the Fire Kingdom. Phoebe is already waiting for us. It'll be good old fashioned heroing time!"

Marceline narrowed his eyes at his enthusiasm. "None of this is 'good old fashioned' anything, Finn."

"Disagree. We're three pals on an adventure. What's not good old fashioned fun about that?"

Before an argument could inevitably ensue Jake stepped between the two, oversized hands breaking their line of sight. "Alright, alright. Cool it, guys. Let's hit the road. The ride has mad hungies and there's nothin' between here and the Fire Kingdom but my stomach." To the loud protests of his vampire friend Jake's mass increased until he was far larger than was strictly necessary, perhaps twenty times his size, scooping her up as he engorged. "Uh uh, you're riding up here where I can keep an eye on you. If you go wandering off we gotta go find you and I'm not explaining to the princess that we lost you. Either princess."

Finn couldn't help but snicker at the musician's indignant protests, but before he could follow his brother a hand on his shoulder gently stopped him. He blinked and turned to meet its owner. "What's up, Peebo?"

Bonnibel's eyes quickly shot to Marceline before returning to the human. Her voice hushed, counting on the queen's squabble with Jake to cover her. "I packed some food with Marcy. Try to get her to eat something, okay?"

With a frown Finn matched her volume. "Marce isn't eating?" Please don't tell me she's gonna red-starve on us.

The princess shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not, though now isn't the time to discuss it. I'm worried, though. She's not responding to hunger as she should be, and I'm afraid it's making her physical and mental trauma worse."

That bites. No pun intended. Finn saluted. Subtly. "Don't worry, P-bubs. Getting peeps to eat is me and Jake's specialty. We'll be totes subtle about it." And if we blow it Phoebe could probs do it. He didn't dare voice that opinion though. He wasn't suicidal.

"Thank you, Finn." Her smile was small, but genuine. "Marceline's phone was lost when she fled her house, but she has a holo-crystal should she need to get in touch with me. I have a rather important meeting tomorrow and I may not be available through conventional means." There's no reception where I'm going.

The poor boy, he accepted this without question. "Gotcha. We'll take good care of her. Just some fire and wanton destruction. No biggie!," he grinned. Whether he actually believed that or was just trying to reassure the immortal woman standing in front of him was anyone's guess. Possibly including his own.

"Yo!," a voice called behind him, coaxing him to looking over his shoulder where he found Jake tapping his back right paw impatiently. "We're waiting, man!" From his back Marceline sat - actually sat - watching the pair with an unreadable expression. Or, more accurately, watched Bonnibel with an expression Finn couldn't read.

Finn might not understand that look Bonnibel would know it anywhere. It was the same look the vampire gave her before every tour, before every diplomatic summit, before every trip back to the Nightosphere. It simultaneously broke and warmed the candy woman's heart. I'll miss you too, Marcy. "I'll see you all in a couple of days!," she called as she watched her hero join her lover and his brother. "Please give my regards to Phoebe!"

"You got it, PB!," Finn shouted from his brother's back. "See ya!"

Bye, Bon. Marceline didn't say it though, didn't say it because she felt something stir in her she hadn't felt in… well, if she was honest with herself, years. It was the sensation of her soul itself protesting against being separated from its chosen mate, like part of her was being stretched and pulled in an all-too unpleasant way. It had been a long time since she felt that yearning to return to the other woman so strongly. Not since… the crown? Yes, that had to be it. Something about her lover becoming Princess Bubblegum had dulled that tug to a level just barely perceptible, significant always but not quite enough to stop the vampire from wandering off. Now it was back, and it was both uncomfortable and confusing to so strongly miss someone she had until mere days ago been furious at. Stupid dumb soul. Make up your mind. I mean, I guess you did, but… ugh!

"Marce!" The vampire snarled as the boy plopped himself next to her, then snarled more when the first snarl did nothing to dissuade him. "How ya doin'? I haven't seen you in a bazillion years!"

He was grinning. Why was he grinning? It was unsettling, and the half-demon frowned. "Nothing's changed, Finn. Still getting mood swings, still tired all the time, still resisting the urge to rip your head off."

He nodded thoughtfully, as if she were doing no more than describing the weather. "That's cool. You excited for this?"

Her eyes narrowed. "No, Finn. I want to go back to bed."

Finn was unconvinced. "Aw, come on, Marce, don't be like that. I think it's gonna be crazy fun, and if anyone can help you get control of your demon pows it's Phoebe. Besides, everything's already on fire!"

Is that supposed to be reassuring? The sad thing was that she knew it was. "Finn, nothing burns hotter than demon fire. I burned a guy to death once who was already on fire. If I snap I could do the whole kingdom in!"

He shook his head sagely. "Nah, that's what you got me and Jake for, dude."

"Yeah, 'bout that. How exactly are you supposed to stop me if I lose it?"

'Cause nothing can be worse than Usurper. "Let us worry about that. 'Sides, if you know too much it won't be as effective, you know? You'll see it coming!"

The frown deepened. "I'm pretty sure you're bluffing."

The boy shrugged. "Nah, but you don't have to believe me now. But serially, how do you feel? You've been staying at the castle with Peebs, right?"

Marceline turned away. It was painfully obvious the human was fishing for information and that knowledge made her bristle. Wasn't she allowed to have some privacy, or was the whole world supposed to be allowed to know what was going on in her life in by-the-minute updates? For months now others had been assuming her life was on display, a spectacle for the ages. Her mind snapping was perhaps the worst of it, and to make it more humiliating not only did she not remember it but it was still influencing her thoughts and actions without her knowledge. Somewhere, that part of her that actually understood the concepts of 'logic' and 'reason' reminded her that she was electing to not be told what happened in her mind, but that part was small and easily ignored. It was much more gratifying to be mad. Still. "...Yeah."

Even if she didn't see it Finn gave her a sad smile. He was smart enough not to give away any of the information volunteered by Bonnibel, but it was telling that Marceline herself wasn't volunteering it. What it told him, though, was a mystery. He lowered his voice, letting empathy bleed into it. Regardless of how standoffish the immortal was she was still his best ladybro, and he knew it was impossible for him to comprehend what she was going through. The best thing he could do was be there for her, because if his time with Fern had taught him anything it was that you could never underestimate the power of just being the support network in someone's life. Maybe if I had just- No. Don't go down that road, Finn. "It's alright if you don't wanna talk, Marce. We're still here for you."

"No one asked you to be," she growled.

"Nah, I know. But I know you, Marce-"

"No, you don't." Another growl, this one deeper.

How could he tactfully remind her that he, in fact, did know her, and rather intimately at that? No, she doesn't need to be reminded. I guess everything is a reminder for her. Immediately he felt guilty for pushing her, for not respecting her obvious boundaries. After all, if Bonnibel was to be believed - and why wouldn't she be? - Marceline hadn't really left the castle at all, except for her brief field trip to the Nightosphere. He looked away from his friend then, scanning the horizon.

Though they were away from The Grasslands Incident they were still in the Grasslands itself, and Finn had clear memories of Marceline being quite uneasy in his home turf. Maybe it was from repressed memories of the monsters that lived in her subconscious, an inability to tell what was real with what was a delusion, exhaustion, or just good old stress, but clearly something was putting his friend on edge, and he only hoped the Fire Kingdom would provide neutral enough territory that it would help calm her. He hated seeing her like this; this was not how Marceline was meant to be. She was meant to be playing pranks and singing to the moon. Not curled on his brother's back, clearly anxious about what was to come. Gotta respect her boundaries, Finn. "Listen, Marce… I mean no offense. You know that, right?" Silence. "It's just… we're all really happy you're home. I know a lot of messed up bazang has been going on over the last few months, but we're here. Me, Jake, Phoebe, and Bubblegum."

"You don't get it, Finn." Now the anger had ebbed, leaving something much worse, much sadder. "The amulet made me its prey. It took everything messed up in me and made it more messed up just to gunk me up. I can't even tell the real Ooo from my brain's Ooo. I can't even tell me apart from… ugh, I don't know!"

Finn reached out, but his hand collided with an invisible barrier. Although he didn't take it personally his heart ached for his friend nevertheless. Can't tell yourself apart? Are you…? He almost spilled the beans, almost told her about the other versions of her, only holding his tongue because of her explicit request not to know anything about them. Deep in his heartguts he knew that she would have to know one day, that she was running and hiding and both could only last so long before her vulnerability would turn already dangerous knowledge lethal. Finn had secretly hoped that his ladybro would remember on her own, that the memories would trickle back to her and he would help pick up the pieces instead of his current position of needing to spread them out. That was looking less and less likely. I already miss PB. She'd know what to do. But that was a lie as well, the remnants of his childish view of the world, where Princess Bubblegum's wisdom was infallible and she always knew what to do. He knew better now, because Princess Bubblegum was merely the role Bonnibel played, and Bonnibel, for all her intellect and experience, was fallible and despite her effective immortality she was still only eighteen and just as prone to mortal weaknesses.

But then… Marceline was the same way as well, wasn't she? Cursed with immortality, doomed to see everything and everyone she loved be destroyed, die, ripped from her again and again, but her mind was cemented at nineteen. For all of her preternatural strength she was fallible as well, but the stakes were different for her because she was acutely aware of what she was capable of. That's gotta be so isolating. Finn scooted closer, against the invisible shield, but push it a second time. "I really can't imagine what you're going through, Marce." His voice was low and almost melancholy. "But we're here, and you can't get rid of us, okay? I'll totes respect whatever space you need, but, it's like…"

He looked up at the night sky. It was overcast but pleasantly cool, the moon's rays barely peeking through. "One time, when me and Jake were puppies, I got mad at mom for something so I went into the woods, like a dinger. I stayed out there all night just being mad. Well, I wanted to stay up all night, but Jake got bored so he went to find me. When we got back to the house I saw the porch light on, which was mad weird 'cause mom and dad always turned it off 'cause it attracted these mega giant moth things. Jake said they left it on for me, so that I'd know how to find my way back when I wanted to come home." He smiled sadly at the memory, absentmindedly turning his head to the front of his ride. "We'll leave the light on for you, okay Marce? You don't need to come in now, but when you want to the door's open. I know that's true for the princess, but it's true for me and Jake, too. No judgies or anything. Promise." Marceline didn't reply, or lower her defense, but she also didn't pull away any further, nor did she offer a biting comment. He took it as a win. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're back." Not wanting to overstay his welcome, not wanting to give her the opportunity to argue with the sentiment, and not wanting to encourage her to waste what little energy he knew she possessed, Finn stood and swiftly made his way to the front to join his brother, leaving Marceline to her pondrance, and to herself.

Jake felt the moment Finn sat on his shoulder and stretched his mouth and a furry ear to meet him there. "How's it hanging back there?"

Finn sighed. "She's hurtin', man."

"Yeah, but what else is new?" And yet there was no frustration or malice of any sort in the question. It was matter-of-fact, an inarguable truth.

Finn gaped. "Jake!"

"What? It's true! It's why we're doing this shindig, right? So she's able to put all this biz behind her and she can learn how to be a demon without burning stuff that shouldn't be burned 'cause it'd probably be us?"

The human frowned, but didn't argue. After all, it was true. "Yeah, but… you shouldn't say it like that, man. She doesn't like things being like this."

"Bro, I know that. It blows chunks that she's feeling like this, but that's why we're doing this. Pooling our strengths to help her through this. We'll meet up with Phoebe, she's gonna have some ideas on how to help the demon fire whatevs. Once Marceline sees she's not the blood-thirsty monster she thinks she is she'll cool off." And that would have been a lovely thought, had it not been followed up with- "I mean, she has a blood-thirsty monster in part of her mindmeats…," he trailed off unhelpfully.

"Dude!"

The dog groaned. "Finn, I know she was just a part of her brain. Like… a big part. One of the biggest. And she ripped off your arm and tried to kill me with-"

"Jake, knock it off." He dropped his voice, hopefully out of vampire-hearing range. He knew his brother meant no real harm, but Marceline had been explicit about not wanting to know about her shattered self, and Finn was unwilling to disrespect that. "It's not just about controlling her pows. That's just part of it. PB…" He trailed off, looked over his shoulder, then thought better of bringing the princess and her secret revelations into the conversation. The last thing they needed was to sow the seeds of distrust after the two were finally beginning to reconcile. And Jake was a terrible gossip. "Mental stuff doesn't heal instantly. This'll help, but it's not a cure." He would know. After Fern, after his own depression, he would know.

"Finn, I know. You weren't there in the Thorn Gate. When you were messing around with Linke I had to bust Nav and Unifier out, and that place was mega crazy. I got 'em out though, and they got through it. If…," he began to count on his paw, "like a quarter of her mind can get through mental stuff the rest of her can do it, too."

Finn exhaled but didn't argue, only glancing over his shoulder once more. It seemed as though the lull of their journey had put Marceline to sleep; there was no rise and fall to her chest, but she definitely looked asleep, and that was good enough for the young hero. "...Yeah. She can do it," he smiled.

"Trust, dude. We got this. Then when we get back to the Candy Kingdom PB's gonna love this. Maybe you'll get another kiss," he grinned. Finn flushed, the memory of his friend kissing his cheek after he called out Arbitrator for secretly wanting to be a good guy still burned in his mind. Sure, he had grown up and let go of his childhood crush, but one never forgets their first love interest and he had enjoyed the gesture more than he'd admit, both because pride was an important thing and because he was pretty sure he didn't want to mess with a territorial demon. Even if the demon was his best friend.

Despite everything he was optimistic about the journey before them, even glad to be part of it. The Grasslands were calm that evening, the sky had cleared, and Jake was making wonderful time towards the Fire Kingdom. While the task before them wouldn't be easy for anyone Finn was glad for it, glad because it marked such an improvement over where they began. It was so easy to be frustrated by everything that lay before them because there was just so much, but they had already come so far: they had rescued Marceline from her mind; they had retrieved her from the Nightosphere and brought her home; they had secured in the Candy Kingdom castle after her psychotic break; she and Bonnibel seemed to be making up, slowly but surely; even if she was experiencing considerable mood swings they seemed to be stabilizing, as was her inability to tell reality from her disassociative episodes; she just got up and moved closer to Finn-

Wait, what?

"Hey, Marce," he smiled. She grunted, but that was the extent of her ire. "Totally," he agreed, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to. Then he left it at that, because he was serious about not pushing her, not scaring her back to the other edge of Jake's back. Inching closer, let alone sitting next to him even in silence was a monumental improvement over the last time he had seen her and he wasn't going to spoil it. Be normal, Finn. Play it coolio. Best thing you can do is not act like she's being all weird. No way I'm gonna make her feel self-conscious about this. Marceline could feel self-conscious at the worst possible time, and the last thing she needed was for anyone else to act like she was a different person and not the punkest prankster Ooo had ever seen.

Marceline could see the moment the Grasslands gave way to the outskirts of the Fire Kingdom. After all, it was like a third home to her, after the Candy Kingdom castle and her cave house, and one of those didn't exist anymore. How many times had she visited Phoebe since their initial introduction, when the vampire almost tore her head off? And how much time had she spent in the Kingdom even before her friend was born? Time wasn't real so it was difficult to say for sure, but it was enough that the denizens, even the royal wolf mounts, knew her immediately whenever she visited. It felt odd going back in her current state of being, weird to be meeting with Phoebe on her home turf under the current circumstances.

Oddly, though, the changing scenery was beginning to calm her in a way the half-demon didn't expect. The dweebs said there was no Fire Kingdom in my brain. Maybe it's just happy there's some place it's not fighting with? That made sense: it was familiar and her mind wasn't fighting with itself. The hard ground coated with volcanic ash, the rivers and sea of lava, the plumes of thick smoke from some of the more aggressive fires…

It was nice.

Well, until Jake started whining, his paws performing an interesting dance. "Oh man, it burns! Where's Flambo when you need him?!"

Marceline blinked, suddenly aware that mere mortals were quite capable of burning to death and alarmed by that fact. "Hold on, I got this."

There was a strange his, a slight headache that faded as quickly as it onset, and then both the dog and his brother were glowing a fine blue. Finn stared at his hands in awe as his brother set him down and returned to his normal size, not because of the flame shield but because- "Dude, I didn't know you could do that!"

Marceline raised an eyebrow. "I'm half-demon, Finn. Demon magic, yo. Who do you think taught it to Flambo?"

Was that a hint of pride in her voice? Hey, she's earned it.

Finn was about to vocalize as much when he was suddenly swarmed with wolves. Or, more accurately, Marceline was swarmed with wolves. Happy wolves. Wolves that repeatedly burned her bare flesh, only to have it heal moments later without any acknowledgement on her part. Instead she was laughing, actually laughing, as they tackled her. "Alright, I'm here! Geeze you guys, you'd think you'd never seen a half-demon vampire punk rocker before."

"Can you blame them for missing you? They smelled you the moment you crossed into our border."

Whereas Finn's head whipped to the sound of Phoebe's voice Jake merely waved. "Hey, we brought the prisoner like we promised. Where's my snacks?"

Phoebe sighed and shook her head, not hiding her smile. "They're inside, Jake. We can grab them and catch up. Hey Finn," she waved, smiling as he waved back. Then her attention turned to the woman surrounded by happy canines. "I'm glad you decided to come, Marceline." When the musician's response was muffled by her old friends Phoebe rolled her eyes. "To my side," she commanded. Only then did the small pack stop and look to the princess, retreating to her and letting her friend right herself.

"I had nothing better to do, and these dweebs wouldn't leave me alone." Only one of those was a lie and everyone knew it. Knew it, but didn't call her on it. Mostly because of the light waver in her voice, the obvious slow realization of what she was about to do.

Phoebe's smile was knowing. "The boys mentioned when they called me that you visited your father? How did that go?"

Finn and Jake instinctively held their breath, eyes darting between the two royals. Marceline had never been a fan of anyone gossiping about her, and she was certainly not a fan of her business being aired to the world, especially something so sensitive; when she had called him earlier in the day he could barely get that much out of her, yet here was Phoebe waltzing her way into the heart of the matter with no visible concern. It could be suicide. Or Marceline could just exhale strongly, glancing up towards red-streaked sky as if the question were no big 'd'. "Yeah. Bonnie and I took a trip to the Nightosphere. Killed a couple demons, let one go to spread the word about The Law of Bigger Than You."

"What did Hunson say?"

Marceline closed her eyes, suddenly quite tired again. "That all of this will keep happening until I stop being afraid of myself and what I can do. When we were in his office he talked about…" For a moment she trailed off, shook her head, then regained her footing. "He talked about my mom. I don't even remember most of it 'cause the Nightosphere's aura was messing with my mindmeats, but I got mad. Like the kind of mad when I burned that guy to death. Made my white fire come out, but he just put it out like it was nothing. He and Bonnie think the best place to start all this is with my fire. Learn to control it, summon it whenevs I need it. That kinda thing."

The flame princess nodded along thoughtfully. "Yeah, I can see that. I can see why you came to me."

"Yeah," Marceline began reluctantly. "I mean, my fire can burn hotter than yours but, well…" She glanced over her shoulder to the two gradually-becoming-more-bewildered boys before returning her attention to Phoebe. "...You know."

That we're kindred spirits, created to be weapons, abandoned by those meant to protect us having lived most of our lives having our flames directed by another, forcing us to learn to adapt and understand ourselves with little if any guidance? "I get it. So Finn," she turned to him, "are you just here for moral support?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Moral support, and if anyone needs friendly back-up." Emphasis on friendly.

Phoebe nodded, catching the deeper implications that weren't being said. "Alright, makes sense to me. You ready, girl?"

The vampire snorted. "Do I have a choice here?"

"Well, yeah, you always-"

Phoebe cut Finn off with nary a thought. "Nope. You gotta learn this or you're going to be uncomfortable in your own skin for another thousand years." Despite the harshness of the words there was understanding in the younger woman's voice, and it wasn't said unkindly. It was the tone of voice of someone experienced, someone who had gone through exactly this situation before. Of someone who knew of a shared secret few could know and fewer could understand.

Marceline groaned. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Phoebe's smile was light and triumphant as she turned to head off. "Follow me. I set up a space for us to practice that's away from my citizens and anything particularly valuable."

The vampire started to follow, but soft whining stopped her. With a smile that wal altogether different than the one she gave Phoebe she extended her arms, pulling the wolves in for a hug. "I'll be back soon, guys. Be good," a glance over her shoulder, then a mumbled, "when you're being watched. Fight the power guys. Represent." With a snicker she pulled away, floating after Phoebe and Finn who were oblivious, Jake who was eyeing her. "What?"

"I'm on to you."

"Cool." She smirked an almost-normal smirk - or at least one with her anxiety expertly hidden - and floated to the front of the pack to be beside Phoebe. "So… what's the plan?" It seemed the flame princess was leading the trio beyond her castle's walls and it roused the more paranoid part of the vampire's mind, the part that seemed to go hand-in-hand with her anxiety. Nah. This is Pheebs. She's cool. She hasn't done messed up stuff to me. That… I know of, I guess- no. Uh uh. Not going down this road.

"Did you wonder," she asked softly, snapping Marceline back to what she hoped was reality, "why I asked Bubblegum for the technology she used to make the lamp she imprisoned me in as a child?"

It was asked passively without any hint of animosity, something that the vampire found baffling. "Yeah, but… sorry…," she muttered. Even years after the princess had been rescued Marceline still blamed herself, and whether or not she was complicit or at fault was a non-issue to the younger woman; the musician was righteous as far as she was concerned and a true friend, who just happened to be completely submissive to and wrapped around the little finger of a monster.

Phoebe glanced out of the corner of her eye. "Marceline, we've talked about this. You can't apologize for Bubblegum on her behalf. Even if she regrets past actions-" which she totes doesn't "-you're not her, so it's not your responsibility to make amends on her behalf. I know you grok her, but you're your own person, girl." Though what you see in her is a hardcore mystery. Before Marceline could even open her mouth- "And it's not your fault she and I are fighting right now."

"Yeah, why are you guys fighting?" Finn jogged to meet the two royals, walking beside them as Marceline rubbed the back of her neck, not looking at either of her friends, or really anything at all.

"It's… complicated."

"No, it isn't." Phoebe turned to Finn, leaving Marceline to her discomfort. "Bubblegum is overstepping her boundaries into mine and Marcy feels it her duty to prevent us from killing each other."

"Oh, 'cause-"

"Phoebe, why did you want Bonnie's tech?" It came out in a rush, but Marceline wanted nothing more than for this conversation to be over, both because the guilt was being considerably amplified by her unstable moods and because, well… Bonnibel may be Bonnibel, but Princess Bubblegum lurked inside of her somewhere and the queen didn't want to risk her wrath by accidently spilling state secrets.

Whereas Finn only heard the nervousness of Marceline's question Phoebe easily dissected its deeper implication, and it internally made her frown. Are you still afraid of her? That would have to be something to discuss later, but it would need to be discussed. The younger woman had never made shy either her dislike of Princess Bubblegum or Marceline's choice in romantic partners. Honestly, she just thought the immortal woman could do better, at the very least deserving of someone who wasn't an abuser, currently or previously. For now, though, that opinion would have to be held until it was an appropriate time to check on her friend's physical and mental health, away from the boys. They were sweet, but too emotionally invested. "Don't worry, you'll see soon. For the purposes of training, though, you can't know just yet."

Marceline frowned but didn't argue. Years of both watching and being subjected to Bonnibel's experiments had drilled into her that sometimes knowing too many details altered the results, and given the nature of her demonic powers it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to believe that knowing whatever Phoebe had in mind for her training might cause the vampire to subconsciously alter her efforts, undermining all of… well, everything. "Alright… so where are we-"

Phoebe stopped short, and only then did Marceline realize they had cleared the castle's bounds and were now behind it in a clearing of molten rock, a place she had not been to in centuries. It was an oddity in the Fire Kingdom in that it was flat, without any mounds and absolutely spotless of soot. It was like a plateau of rock, surrounded by thin streams of lava. Looking over her shoulder Marceline saw the back of the castle, a thick wall of stone separating the field from the building itself. While lost in thought Phoebe had brought the group to the northern edge of the circle opposite the castle wall, not quite next to the lava river but close enough to be mindful of it. Out of the corner of her eye the half-demon caught the tail end of Phoebe directing Jake and Finn as to a good location to sit, helping the brothers settle into both couch and couch occupant. Taking this as a cue that this was their destination Marceline dropped her backpack to the ground, not exactly minding when Jake stretched a paw over to snatch it out of harm's way. "What is this place, Pheebs? Last time I was here this was just… rocks. Lots of rocks."

Phoebe left the young heroes to join her semi-willing student. "When my uncle and father ruled they thought only the strongest of us deserved life. I think all of my citizens are individuals who deserve their own chance at happiness, so I had this converted to a field. It's where our children learn to harness their sparks, and where our ill have a place to recuperate while they re-adjust to life after whatevs happened to them." She smiled, forming a small orange fireball in her palm. "I levelled the field myself, actually. Not… purposefully. I was trying to control my own flame and before I knew it I had melted half the field."

"...That's pretty rad, Pheebs. But isn't this… I dunno, a little close to things I could accidentally destroy that you kinda care about?"

Phoebe nodded, agreeing with that first part of Marceline's assessment. "I thought this would be a good place for you to try because it's the farthest part of any aspect of my kingdom while still being within the kingdom's boundaries. I don't want to chance being on the outskirts, given how flammable the surrounding territories are." When Marceline clenched her fist nervously Phoebe crossed to her, placing her hand on her shoulder. "I've felt your flame before. Your real flame. It's beautiful and it needs to breathe. It needs to be free. So do you."

Even from across the field the stench of burning flesh stung Finn's eyes and choken Jake's snout, yet somehow the seared and blackened flesh on Marceline's shoulder seemed to not bother her at all. No, she was too busy averting her gaze, too embarrassed, too indignant, too- "I'm fine, Phoebe." But her voice was too firm to be anything but full of lies.

Which of us are you trying to convince? "Marceline, my feelings for Bubblegum aside you need to come to terms with what happened to you. And I don't mean the amulet." Garnet eyes narrowed in challenge, but Phoebe didn't feed the half-demon's ego by showing the least bit of intimidation. "You've spent the past thousand years denying who and what you are because you're afraid of the negative aspects of what you can do."

"Yeah, I know," she grunted. "We're both flames."

"We can burn forests down, or we can toast marshmallows," Phoebe recited. "But it's our choice."

"Yeah, we've talked about this. I choose not to kill someone. It's why-"

"You're afraid of yourself." Phoebe withdrew her hand, allowing the torn and charred bare muscle under to begin stitching itself whole, offering grey skin room to regrow, and giving the brothers some reprieve from the stench. "So, the point of this training is for you to learn what you can do and how to control it. We're away from the castle and anything you could potentially kill to give you the space to let loose. You've spent your life constrained and restricted. No more cages, Marceline, not even the one you put yourself in. Not here."

"...No more cages." She meant for it to be a deadpan, but it sounded… nice. Why? She exhaled strongly, landing as she unslung her bass to rest against her bag. "...So what do I do?"

Phoebe's smile was encouraging. "Start by summoning your flame."

Despite every reservation in existence, Marceline extended her palm, an orange ball only slightly larger than Phoebe's igniting. "Pheebs, I don't want to keep pointing out the obvious… but I mean, you're made of fire and you watched me literally kill a guy who was on fire- ...Oh. Right. Sorry, I forgot he was one of yours," she smiled sheepishly, though also unapologetically.

Phoebe shook her head. "I already banished you from the Fire Kingdom, and I have no idea how you snuck back in here with Finn and Jake just now. Now focus, Marcy. I promise you that I'll be fine. I learned how to control my powers, remember?"

"Yeah… how?"

Phoebe's flame intensified, matching Marceline's in all but color and hue. Only when they were identical sizes did the flame princess realize that her own fire was darker with an earthier tone, whereas Marceline's seemed to crackle, giving it something not unlike a soft glow. As if it wants to turn white… It was both a question and a prompt, a curiosity mixed with a need for guidance. "I learned that I was involuntarily controlling my fire with my emotions. I knew what would cause a blaze and what would cause me to fizzle, but beyond that I had little control. I had to find another way to anchor it."

Just like on the night they met, years ago, Marceline looked beyond the younger woman's fireball and into her eyes. And, just like on the night they met, years ago, Phoebe held the queen's gaze captive. It was the only way she could ever be sure the vampire wasn't lying, because as great a liar as she was - after all, she had learned from the master - those same lies lived in her eyes, and she'd never been able to hide them there for long. "Anchor it?"

"Yes," Phoebe nodded. "Anger was where my power came from, and I had a lot of anger to feed off of. What Bubblegum did to me, how my father abandoned me, how my kingdom was thrust upon me-" what Finn did "-those experiences I would never have… it all fed my fire, and it felt good. Just like I know it does for you."

Marceline blushed lightly, but didn't look away. "No idea what you're talking about."

Phoebe laughed softly. "Marcy, you know Nightosphere demons flee here before spreading to Ooo, and they're not always hiding from your father. They even have little camps on the outskirts just north of here."

"Not a clue what you're talking about."

"Alright, culpable deniability is your choice, but my point remains. Anger feels good, and the times I've seen your true fire have been when you were mighty angry, girl. Ideally, we find a way to connect your fire to something else."

"Like… another emotion?"

"Maybe.. Emotions are unstable, especially for you while you recover. The goal is to find a way for you to elect to summon your fire, regardless of what you're feeling. Until then you're always going to be fighting between your anger and your fear." Marceline would have liked to argue that she wasn't afraid, but she knew it was pointless, Phoebe just knew her too well. After all, only two princesses could rightfully claim that they had witnessed the vampire in a bloodlust state and lived injury-free to tell about it and only of those two had a sacred vow protecting her from harm. And that one was not Phoebe. "Start by making your fire as intense as possible." Garnet eyes broke the stare just long enough to dart to the mere mortals sitting not *feet away. "They'll be alright. Don't worry about the size of the flame, I know it can get mega even when we're just playing around." It's why I keep spare clothing of yours in one of the guest rooms, remember? In case you torch your own accidentally again? By the half-demon's light flush, she did.

"...Alright. Here goes." Marceline took as many even breaths as she could, focusing now on her own fire, on the way it shimmered and glowed, how it danced in the night air. Though she herself could not feel it the way Finn and Jake shuffled uncomfortably seemed to indicate that the temperature had increased, or at least that the heat had spread enough to warm the space beyond the two royals. It encouraged her, even emboldened her as she continued to stare into the fire, continued to pour more of herself into it.

Phoebe watched her student carefully, lowering her hand and letting her own flame fade as she began her new project. When she was certain Marceline was much too distracted the younger woman glanced over her shoulder at her friends who, upon being spotted, both gave her a double-thumbs up and almost believable grins. Well, at least they're alright. She returned to Marceline, whose flame had noticeably increased the temperature of their little training field, but had, predictably, remained orange. A light orange, but orange. "What are you thinking about, Marcy?"

"Trying to get this dumb fire to turn white."

Phoebe sighed softly. "Insulting your flame won't help, Marcy. It's part of you. I know how you feel about your own worth, but I wish you wouldn't insult yourself. Those of us who care about you don't like-"

"Like what? It's a dumb flame and when it turns white it burns everything to the ground," she muttered.

Phoebe smiled at her friend sadly. "Having the ability to destroy doesn't make you a monster."

"It's not like I haven't done junk like it before," she growled. Her depression was edging off, slowly being replaced by something far more volatile.

"And I once almost blew up the planet. Having the capacity for destruction-"

"But you didn't want to blow it up. Some part of me… does." From behind Phoebe Finn and Jake exchanged a knowing, worried look. "If nothing about me wanted to wreck stuff I'd be fine… but it feels good, Pheebs. Everytime I've ganked a demon it wasn't just about proving my strength to Bonnie, it was about proving to me… I don't even know what. It gets worse in the Nightosphere, but I always feel it."

"Repression isn't healthy, Marcy," Phoebe ventured gently. "You possess the capacity to cause untold mayhem, true. But if what Finn and Jake have told me is true you also possess the unparalleled ability to protect those you care about. That's what you should focus on."

Marceline shook her head. "You don't get it, Phoebe. You protect your peeps and you help out your buds. You're a good guy, and I don't think you've noticed but between all my ripping heads off and biting out throats I'm not a good guy."

"But you want to be," she whispered.

Marceline was overcome with an immense sense of deja vu, vertigo turning her stomach and making her dizzy. Why, she wasn't sure. She only cared that this conversation had happened before. Not with Phoebe. But… "Ugh!" The flame was extinguished. "I don't even know why you guys are trying to get me to do this! I could burn everything to the gonkin ground!"

"Why would you?" Despite the growing instability of the half-demon before her the flame princess remained calm. She had said she wasn't afraid of her friend, and she meant it sincerely. Not because she was certain Marceline wouldn't hurt her, but because she knew these were symptoms of greater problems, not of her nature. Of all people, Phoebe knew that when someone grew up in a harsh and unforgiving world they became bitter and full of malice or gentle and loving. She had no doubt which way Marceline had chosen.

The vampire glared at Phoebe, willing her to flinch, willing her to react, willing her to do something besides stand there, giving her that supportive look, sacrificing her valuable time and putting her life on the line- "...Because I want to," she whispered guiltily. "Not… not all the time, but I want to, Pheebs. I just… want to take something beautiful and just tear it apart." As she turned away she sat in the air, right hand clamped around her left arm. At some point in her admission her hand had become a fierce claw, talons now digging deep into the soft grey flesh. Dark blood began to trickle, dripping from the skin to meet the hot ground, and the soft fabric of her jeans. "Do you know how many times I've dreamed of just… destroying Bonnie's castle?"

Unseen by either woman, both of the brothers' eyes widened in alarm. "Because it took her away from you?"

Marceline shook her head softly. "No. Yes? I don't know. Sometimes the urge goes away, but sometimes-"

"You want to just turn into a giant bat and wreck up the joint?"

Marceline's head shot up, gaze sharp as Jake covered his mouth. "What did you say." It was almost a deadpan, but it wasn't emotionless. It was just filled with something repressed.

Finn put his hand on his brother's shoulder, slowly standing. Misunderstanding the gesture Marceline quickly righted herself, eyes boring into the boy's. Oh boy. Thanks, Jake. "Okay, Marce-"

"What did he say." But it wasn't a 'what' question, it was a 'why' one, though she dare not vocalize it. "'Cause that was really specific, Finn."

No fear, Finn. "You… uh… asked us not to-"

And there it was, the return of her flame. Still orange, but summoned without her conscious direction. It ignited her right claw as it pulled away from her gruesome arm and she held it there, letting it almost engulf her hand. "WHAT DID HE SAY?!"

Finn's eyes darted to Phoebe, but the princess was watching Marceline carefully, deep in thought, expression unreadable. ...Okay, some fear, Finn. Just don't let her see it. "Okay, listen… Marce… when we were in your mind we met the part of you that just wants to burn everything to the ground. She was your rage and your jealousy in one form." He closed his eyes, unsure if he was about to make things better or worse. "She… destroyed the castle. It was in your mind, and just like you said she turned into a giant bat and wanged it apart." And almost killed us. He didn't tell her that part. Marceline stared at him, eyes hollow.

"...I thought I dreamed that," she whispered. "It was like a memory, but I thought it was a dream. When I saw the castle when I got there I got this super bolt of pain. It was worse than when we saw my house." Her voice was still full of repression and it made Finn's skin crawl, made Jake's fur stand on end. It was just too much like Usurper's, too close to her emotionless taunts. "I thought I wrecked the place, but Bonnie didn't say anything so I didn't either. I didn't think I really had it in me to actually…"

She trailed off and Finn frowned. "She was just a part of you, Marce, just the really angry part. She didn't speak for all of you. Most of the you's we met were really chill, or good guys just stuck in bad circumstances. There was just her and the part of you that was like pure instinct, and she was actually pretty cool." Until she found out about the dagger. He didn't say that either. It just seemed like it was in bad taste. "She just got weaker when your bros are around, so she wasn't really our biggest fan."

"And that's all of them?" It wasn't a question, it was- "The messed up parts of me?"

Finn's jaw clenched. He was being lead somewhere and he didn't like it nor did he know how to stop it. You don't need to know about LE. "...Marce," he began carefully. He wasn't allowed to finish.

"It's like I can feel her watching sometimes. If I start to feel really weak, I can feel her watching from the back of my mind. I had a Cosmic Owl dream about her." Unseen by either Marceline or his brother Jake whipped his head to Phoebe, shaking his head rapidly. "She said I'm destined to end the world." Her gaze turned south, at her still burning hand, and she laughed bitterly. "Didn't even feel this."

Phoebe put her hand on the queen's shoulder, gently pulling her away from Finn's general direction. "You're afraid of her because she's stronger than you. That part of you outweighs the other parts." Marceline stiffened. "I don't know what part of you she represented, but I can see it in the way you talk about yourself, and in what you can do. The only way to take control of this is to be just as strong as that part of you, and the only way to do that is to accept what you can do, what you can't do, and what you do and do not want to do. Do you want to end the world, Marcy?"

"Of course not!," she snapped. To no effect, Phoebe was entirely unphased.

"I know you don't. That's why this hurts you so much. But," she gingerly took the flame-engulfed arm and held it in her hands, "you did this without even meaning to. What were you feeling?"

"Anger."

"What else?"

The vampire eyed her. "What do you mean, 'what else'?"

"You're able to have more than one emotion at a time, Marcy. I don't think anger was the only thing you felt when Jake helpfully blurted out your unknown mental trauma." At least the dog had the good nature to look chastened.

Caught. "I just… didn't want it to be true," she mumbled, but when she tried to look away Phoebe directly her gaze back.

"Why not?"

"Pheebs… come on."

The flame elemental shook her head. "Follow me on this, Marceline. I have an idea."

Marceline groaned, but at least the emotion was beginning to return to her voice. Even if she did sound emotionally drained. "I didn't want to hurt Bonnie. I don't want to. I don't want to hear that some part of me does."

"You want to protect her."

"Well… yeah. She's my mate. I love her."

"So some part of you expressed the desire to hurt her, while the greater part of you knows you'd never really do that. I don't think you'd hurt any of your friends." Her look was knowing and Marceline was finally allowed to look away.

"You don't know me," she grumbled.

"I know you can turn into this righteous void demon thing." Marceline's head whipped back to Finn. "You made it a form to protect Peebo, right? We saw it in your mind. It was part of your mind, the loyal part. It protected all of us."

She snarled at the boy, eyes slitting once more at the very idea that someone other than Bonnibel or Phoebe even knowing about that form, let alone seeing it and living to tell the tale. Were they best friends? Probably. But everyone has boundaries, and this was beginning to cross them. "Listen-"

"It sounds like the desire to protect is what drives a lot of your rage. Perhaps not all of it if what Finn is describing about this jealous-rage part of your psyche-"

"Bunk, Pheebs."

"No, I don't think so. Girl, your self-loathing is because you're afraid you'll hurt the people or places you care about. You're preventing yourself from releasing your true flame because you don't want to cause untold destruction. You almost hurt Finn for suggesting you'd ever do something so messed up to Bubblegum. Everytime you've been angry it's because you thought you'd fail to protect something or someone… and if you really did have that kind of Cosmic Owl dream I think that anxiety is only feeding this. You're preventing yourself from getting stronger because you think weakening yourself means you're protecting. You could protect so much more if you allowed yourself to live up to your potential."

"Or I could-"

"And I think you need to come to terms with those pieces of you that Finn, Jake, and Bubblegum found in your mind."

Now, for the first time, Marceline's eyes slitted against the younger woman. "Don't. Do. Not."

Phoebe shook her head. "I'm not going to force that knowledge on you, Marcy. I wasn't even there and I know you went through a really bad time. I don't know enough to not make it all worse, but I think you shouldn't avoid it forever. When you're ready you're ready, but don't hide from yourself. Instead," she curled the grey, flaming hand into a fist, "put more juice into this. Don't think about what it can destroy, think about what it could save."

"It can't save anything, Phoebe. Fire destroys."

Her head tilted and she turned to the brothers. "Am I destroying anything right now, Jake?"

"No ma'am."

"Finn?"

"Nope," he popped the 'p' and everything. "Got a sweet castle and mad awesome peeps and everything."

"See?" She turned back, ignoring the way Marceline's eyes were narrowed. "Fire can destroy, but without it there is no warmth. I know you're worried the most about hurting Bubblegum, given that she's made of candy. I won't lie, your fire could legit hurt her, so I think we should start there."

When Marceline's look of ire grew to one of disgust mixed with confliction Finn decided to take a gamble, one that would either make things much better, or much worse. "Marce?" She turned to him, eyeing the boy. "You know… it's demon fire, right? The only part of you that was a demon was Lady Evil." Even at her name Jake shuddered, though the vampire herself only stared. Evidently the name, or her relation to the greater psyche, wasn't new information. "She could use her fire whenevs, and P-Bubs was like the one person she liked. No matter what she did to us she never hurt her, so I don't think that part of you with the fire wants to either."

Marceline watched the boy, scanning for any sign of disenguinity. It was a difficult thing to do, doubting Finn, because the boy was just so sincere and so earnest in everything he did. He just looked so hopeful, so encouraging. In fact, they all did, and it was too much for a thousand-year-old vampire who suddenly felt every bit of her age. As she sighed her flame extinguished. "...I'm gonna take a walk." After grabbing her bass she floated off, strapping it to her back as her friends watched her retreat, all silently agreeing to give her space.

It was just… too much. Marceline knew, logically, that they were her friends and they were doing their best to help, but it was also painfully obvious that they had no idea what they were doing. Which she didn't exactly blame them for; she didn't know what she was doing either. Regardless, though, it just further cemented for her those things that were different now, both about her and around her. Sure, she and Phoebe had had numerous long talks in the past about what it meant to be a weapon and what it meant to control their natures, but the immortal had been hoping 'training' would involve less talking and more blowing things up. The fact that Phoebe was so focused on her 'accepting herself' made her nervous in a way she couldn't explain. In the same vein, it was nice to see Finn and Jake alive and well, but the way they spoke to her, watched her, handled her… it was another reminder of what they had gone through and it soured her gut, that feeling of guilt mixed with resentment.

They now knew more about her than she ever could about them, and even if they didn't say it out loud she knew they wanted her to remember what happened in her mindscape. Even assuming such a thing was possible- Do I even want to? It was hard to say. Even Bonnibel had admitted that it was impossible to say for sure whether or not remembering trauma would help or hurt her recovery. Or whether painful setbacks could actually help her heal better. But the more they pushed her- Wait… are they even pushing me? Am I just… reading too much into this? Whether she liked it or not, every road led back to the shattered mindscape of her psyche, of her soul splitting into eight autonomous representations. Of how she came to be whole once more. Does that mean I need to remember to get over this?

"We don't need to do anything."

Marceline stopped short, reaching for her bass instinctively. She felt the air shift around her, felt something move from the shadows.

"Aw, come on. Don't be that way."

The vampire tilted her head, listening to the disembodied voice. Something deep inside of her was abruptly on edge, her fangs extending as if anticipating a fight.

"Peekaboo, I see you. Peekaboo, do you see me?"

Marceline knew that voice. Not the malicious, childish tone in it, but the voice itself and it filled her with an unnamed emotion, something just shy of fury but with a healthy topping of indignity. With a snarl she ignited her hand, forcing the orange flame to spread outward as a small wall. Just as she had hoped a section of the barrier collided with an unseen object and shimmered, displaying the location of her taunter. Without thinking the queen gripped her axe into a downward slash, only to have the staff caught by an unseen hand.

Then the woman materialized before her. Marceline had expected her tormentor to be at least partially burned, given the firewall she had just been assaulted with, but this was much stranger. A dark maroon coat that seemed to absorb all life-giving light produced by the Fire Kingdom's flames. It was secured by a single black strap in the front, over the other woman's breasts, and was made of soft material akin to leather, covered in an intricate design unique to the Abadeer clan. The same material, with the same intricate design, lined the sleeves, as well as the other woman's chest up to her shoulders. Above the strap featured no buttons or clasps, allowing it to stay open, exposing a black blouse underneath. Below the strap were three sets of buttons, open, allowing a full view of pants made of the same dark material as the strap and covered with an unidentified metal. The sides extended to her knees and were slitted, allowing easier movement.

But it wasn't a flawless outfit. The coat was heavily ripped and torn, as if clawed at by a feral animal. The left sleeve was missing entirely, exposing a bare grey arm underneath; the shoulder was mounted oddly, indicating that this woman had done a poor job of resetting the bone, suggesting it had, at one point, seen the arm severed. The worst damage of all, the wound that caused bile to rise in Marceline's throat, was in the center of the woman's chest. Her entire front was drenched in dark blood that shined as if still wet, framing a gastly circular wound a good five centimeters in diameter, centered right above where her heart would be. The other woman had done nothing to cover the whole and Marceline found herself looking directly into it, into the shattered chest cavity surrounded by small slivers of white bone, each now embedded in bright muscles that seemed to twitch and writhe in vain, as if they had not yet been told there was no heart left to beat. A grey hand that was not her own grabbed the shell-shocked vampire by the chin, lifting her face until her gaze locked with a single, slitted garnet eye.

"Boo."