Real talk: Guys, I actually managed to stick to my goal and finish before Halloween! Hooray for me! This chapter was a challenge to write because fight scenes are difficult for me. So much coordination. I had originally planned to switch back and forth between what Marceline was up to and what Bonnibel was up to, but I realized that this would be too confusing right now. It's the kind of thing that'd be more enjoyable if Opening Act was actually complete, but until then it's more jarring than anything else. So we get to conclude one arc before starting another. Yay sensible decisions!

Content Warnings

Fight scene

Graphic violence

Strong mental health caution

Cliffhanger (even for me)

Implications of a consensual domme/sub relationship

There had, since time immemorial, been a common misconception among all people and creatures alive, dead, or in-between: things that were big and strong did not experience fear in the same way things that were little and weak did, that there was a fine line in nature between 'should feel fear' and 'shouldn't feel fear', and that, for the most part, this line was imagined as absolute, without any real gradient or grey area. This was commonly divided into two categories for ease of understanding the duality: predator and prey. Predators were big and strong, at least in spirit, and they took what they wanted when they wanted from who they wanted, unafraid of throwing their weight around, knowing the ground trembled beneath their claws. Contrarily, prey were little and weak, at least in spirit, and scurried about hiding as best they could, hoping to avoid those monsters that cared not for their existence except in so much that it could benefit said monster, typically as food.

After a thousand years of life Marceline Abadeer knew this distinction was a lie. In fact, this divide between 'fear' and 'not fear' was one of the greatest lies ever told, and she would know. She was born half-human and half-demon, and while she masterminded the genocide of an apex predator species - becoming an apex predator in the process - she had done so terrified the entire time, not so much for her own safety, but for those of her charges, those soft and vulnerable humans, the last of their kind. She had taken an apex species and absorbed those powers that made it such, and in the process became one of Ooo's most powerful creatures, a title she had been enjoying for the past one thousand years.

Marceline Abadeer prided herself as an apex predator. Although she often ran from the knowledge that she was one of Ooo's most powerful beings she never denied it, nor did she ever assume herself infallible. Her strength was flaunted, but not without her observing what she could really do if she let go of herself. In fact, she knew a great deal about fear, and she knew how nuanced it really was. She knew about fear, she knew about anxiety, she knew about insecurity, and she knew how to tell the three apart. She knew what it was like to have the strength of a Cosmic Entity but be powerless to stop the woman she loved from tearing herself apart. She had watched herself in a haze of bloodlust destroy what she hoped were enemies in an uncontrollable fury. She had been hunted by Grassland denizens. She had pursued lesser demons as her prey when they made the grave mistake of invading her territory.

Fear was a primal reaction, something that could not be reasoned with. It was instinctive; it didn't matter how strong or smart you were, the lizard brain could not be argued with. It knew a predator when it saw one, and it knew prey when it was one, at least as a general concept so far as staying alive went. Above all, though, Marceline knew what few did, and that was the nature of true fear, of terror beyond reason. It was not something she had experienced more than once or twice, but she would never forget the sensation, the feeling of her soul paralyzed, the inability to command her body to move away. True terror was a deep, primordial thing, buried deep in Instinct where Reason would never be able to touch it. No, it could not be persuaded, nor ignored, and it had a way of making even creatures like herself prey, make them feel small and weak.

And in this moment Marceline Abadeer was very aware that she must look exactly like prey.

"Aw, what's wrong? You look like you see a ghost! A really righteous, awesome ghost."

The doppelganger before her still held Marceline's chin, not letting her look away from the single garnet eye, slitted and boring into her sanity. It was painful, the sensation of half your mind working in overdrive to process what it was seeing while the other half tried to shut down from revulsion. It was evident the one-eyed woman could see her discomfort and was taking great joy in. She was smirking that same smirk Marceline herself wore when she had cornered a hapless assassin and was, as Bonnibel once put it, toying with her food.

What exactly was happening? She knew this woman. Somewhere, from some time, she knew her. Looking at her was disorienting and surreal, and though she was no stranger to gore the gaping, bleeding wound in front of her sickened her on some deeply personal level. Some spark in the back of her mind was calling to the vampire, trying to remind her of who this creature was, what had caused that injury, why all of this was impossible, but a greater part of her revolted against knowing it, any of it. It was an overload of stimuli, and by her smirk the strange woman seemed to know it. Through the mental clash only one thought survived.

"I know you."

The woman tilted her head. "You sure about that?"

Marceline shook her head, an answer but not to that question. "You can't be here. Uh uh. You aren't real."

The woman raised an eyebrow. Then, in one swift motion, her hand lashed from Marceline's chin to the back of her skull, driving it down as her shin shot up. Her forehead caught on the not-stranger's knee and Marceline hissed against the sickening crack, the sound of her ears ringing, the thin trail of blood trickling from her right ear. It was all healed within moments of course - it wasn't the first time the half-demon had broken her skull - but-

"Did that feel real to you?" Marceline reached up to her ear with her free hand as the woman let go, feeling her cool blood coat the tip of her grey fingers. Yes, that definitely felt real, but it just raised further questions. The beast of a woman snickered at her counterpart's bewildered expression. Or was it at her broken head? "Do you remember me yet?" Marceline's eyes shot to her, narrowing in the process. The pain was forgotten, replaced with indignation at being sucker-punched. "No? Oh, come on! I mean, I know the dweebs don't really talk about me much but," she looked over her shoulder dramatically, leaning closer for a conspiratol whisper. "I'm kind of a big deal." Her voice returned to normal. "I even managed to kill two of us! Do you know how hard that was?" She shrugged. "What can I say, though. It was a labor of love."

Thoughts - or were they memories? - murmured from the back of Marceline's mind, and though they were held at bay only by some benevolent force one flash escaped, only to be quickly extinguished. Too late. "...You're the one that destroyed Bonnie's castle. In my mind. When… the guys came to get me."

The woman sighed dramatically, abruptly leaning back to recline in the air. "Yeah, but… I did other stuff, too! Come on, man, that was my early work. I'm an artist! You gotta branch out and try new stuff. Like when I got Bon to kill her slave!" Her voice dropped to a hush whisper, a maddened glint reflecting in her remaining eye. "Between you and me, that's my favorite piece. You ever see the light go out in someone's eyes? It's a rush."

"...You took her throne," Marceline mumbled, mind still reeling as it tried to make sense of the spectacle before her.

A loud sigh, somehow even more dramatic. "Okay, first of all, it was my throne. I carved my initial in it and everything." She rotated, lounging mid-air on her stomach, chin rested on her folded forearms. "See, there I was, minding my own business. Had a sweet castle, nice comfy chair, when bam, these five buttnuggets show up to take my stuff! Can you believe it? I hadn't even killed anyone yet!" At that she chuckled. "Fixed that pretty quickly though, but it was her own fault." Marceline didn't really want to ask who 'her' was, something told her she'd hate the answer. She could almost remember, and she didn't really want that, either. "So!" The woman clapped. "Before we do this, here's the question, and every time you get it wrong I'm going to… I dunno. Break a bone or something. Probably one of yours. I like mine. What's my name?," she grinned.

Marceline knew. She knew she knew. But the name got caught in her vote as her mind reeled at the idea of acknowledging that any of this was real. As she tried to cough out those three little syllables the woman's head tilted and, after a slight pause, she lashed out and grabbed Marceline's arm, twisting it. With a sickening crack the ulna displaced, fracturing the vampire's wrist. With a soft cry of pain she dropped her bass from her palm, the blade embedding itself in the volcanic ground. The woman grinned, her grip tightening. As she spoke her hand twisted, forcing the musician to hear as the radius began to crack and splinter. Sharp agony shot down Marceline's left arm and she couldn't tell where it began and where it ended, if it indeed had a beginning and an end and she bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out further, the sharp fang slicing straight through her flesh with ease. As the split lip allowed dark blood to trail south her assailant laughed. "Man, you keep this up and we're not gonna be able to play that little concert of ours, huh? So, I'mma ask again, and if you keep ignoring me I break that other big bone in your arm. The radi… whatevs. What's my name?"

Marceline knew. She knew she knew but, like bile, her throat instinctively choked it down. When she felt the hand tighten once more, when she felt the other vampire ready to make good on her threat, Marceline's free hand ignited into a bright orange flame and she forced it forward, deep into the gaping wound in front of her. Contrary to her hopes that a direct hit would destroy the woman she merely hissed in surprise, but she let go and for now that was all that mattered. When she recoiled to stand Marceline followed suit, watching in something not unlike disgust as the flame faded, leaving the wound unchanged. Paradoxically the beast brightened, grinning. "Hey, fire! I can do that, too!" As her hands shifted into claws twin purple flames erupted, a heat Marceline could feel from over a meter away. "Wanna see who can burn down who?"

Marceline blinked, only vaguely registering as her wrist healed itself. "...Why's your fire purple?" Indeed, unlike her own flame the maniac's was a deep royal purple, something that caused her skin to crawl for reasons yet unknown.

Aforementioned maniac frowned. "Dude, that's your question? You could totes just ask me who I am but that's where you go? Weak. And," she nodded to Marceline's hand, "why's your flame orange?"

"'Cause fire's orange? It can't be purple."

Her single eye rolled. "Guy, fire can totally be purple. See? Mine's purple right now! Just call Bonnie on that weirdo necklace she gave us, she'll tell ya."

The retaliation escaped before Marceline realized it was even a thing. "I'm not calling Bonnie to ask her something that dumb. She's doing weird important princess junk."

And just like that all levity dropped from the lunatic and she stared impassively at her other self. "...You know. You sound like The Tool. That's a personality flaw. I thought I fixed that."

Marceline froze. Another memory "...You're the one that made Bonnie.." Kill her, her mind filled in. But kill who?

When she trailed off the creature snickered. "Dude, I didn't make her do anything. She's a brainlord, she totes could've figured something else out. You know what happened? She panicked, 'cause under her high and mighty facade she sorta flips between being as big a monster as me and being as weak as they come. Like I told her before, her greatest weakness is that she's exactly as smart as she thinks she is. Don't get me wrong, though, I'm the first to admit that she's really hot when she's destroying peeps, but…," a deep, melancholy sigh, "what are you gonna do? I mean, I know what I'm gonna do, so it's like… ugh, what's that word? When you ask something but you don't actually expect an answer 'cause you're just making a point?"

This is dumb. "And what's your plan here, Usurper?" She froze. Usurper didn't. Oh no, instead she grinned, eye brightening and if Marceline didn't know any better she could have sworn her purple flames only grew. "...I remember you," the arguably-sane vampire whispered once more. Not her crimes, no, but the woman herself? Yes, that was hitting her full force. This was the monster that destroyed Bonnibel's castle, and while Marceline didn't remember the fine details she remembered the emotions that accompanied it: rage, jealousy, indignation, disgust-

"Rock. I knew you'd get it if I just kept poking you. Just needed a bigger stick I guess," she snickered. "But no, really, what's that word? Ugh, this is gonna bother me forevs." But Marceline was only half-listening, too dumbfounded, too overwhelmed not with mental pictures but with a wave of emotions, and none of it good. When her fire wavered Usurper smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "See, here's the thing. If the Dork Patrol had just let me do my thing we'd be cool right now 'cause I had a plan when we got back here. They didn't though, so now we're like… this." She wrinkled her nose as she gestured to Marceline, half pointing at the collar that concealed the vampire's shame.

"So you're gonna… what? Kill me and take over our brain?"

Usurper's sigh was mixed with a groan. "We've been over this. Believe it or not, we're all one mentally scarred person now. A lot of peeps saw to that. I wanna gank you and like… body-snatch you, but that's not a thing."

"So… what?"

"Well, it might've escaped you 'cause you're having the world's most uncool freakout right now, but you're having the world's most uncool freakout right now. The dweebs just pushed too hard and now you're like this."

"Like what," Marceline snarled.

Usurper raised an eyebrow. "Like this, pay attention, geeze. And they say I've got the attention span of a rodent."

"Seems like an insult to Science." And then Marceline blinked again. Where had she heard that before? When had she said that before?

"Yeah, I get it, everyone loves the mouse for some weird reason. Aaaanyway… wait, what was I saying?" No response, but it didn't matter. "Oh right! See, I kind of like us like this, so I'm here to make sure we stay like this, 'cause eventually we're gonna snap for realzorz and knowing us that means we're gonna burn everything to the ground."

The orange flames wavered once more, betraying her apprehension. "That's the point of me doing this training. So that doesn't happen."

"Really? 'Cause you sound unsure. Me? I'm never unsure," she chirped happily. "Buuut… first I gotta break our brain a little further. Nothing personal." She paused, frowning. "No. Wait. I got that backwards again. It's actually everything personal. You know what, I don't need to explain myself to myself. I just wanna see bodies drop and stuff on fire."

Before Marceline could so much as raise her arms to defend herself Usurper was on her with a roar, bringing her flaming claws in an X into her counterpart's chest. Whereas her right claw missed her left raked across Marceline's chest, shredding her shirt from just above her right breast, digging deep red trails into her left. Maroon blood mixed with the embers of the shirt, but before Usurper could move for another strike Marceline struck back; her right hand extinguished as she shifted it into a sharp stinger, impaling the maniac in the left shoulder. There was the crack of bones and the snap of tendons but Marceline was smarter, too smart to press her luck; the lance was remove as she retreated, just out of reach. Usurper glared, never breaking eye contact as the wound began to stitch itself together, but something was off. ...It's slow. She's healing slower than I do. But-

And then Usurper was on her, claw narrowly missing her throat. Unfortunately, a stray talon managed to rip Marceline's collar, grazing the vampire's scar. She hissed and recoiled, her remaining engulfed hand extinguishing as it covered the scar. "But I'm twice your speed." Usurper's head tilted at Marceline's dumbfounded expression. "You forget we're one person? 'Cause I can hear your thoughts." The lunatic rushed her again, elbow slamming into Marceline's sternum. "I'm twice your speed, I'm three times your strength, and unlike you loser I'm not afraid to use any of it!" The levity was gone from her voice, replaced only with rage, fueling her purple fire until it engulfed her arm. "You're weak! We were strong once! Then you had to go become a pet and start hanging out with mortals!"

Marceline seethed, barely feeling the pain under her own budding rage. "So because I don't burn everything to the ground that makes me weak?!" As Usurper prepared a volley of fireballs Marceline caught a most welcomed sight from the corner of her eye. With a startle of relief she summoned her axe to her, just in time to turn against the fire, effectively deflecting the worst of it. The flames heated the metal of her axe, burning her hands until she felt only ice but that wasn't of concern, not at the moment. If she could out-heal Usurper it was the one advantage she had, and she knew she had to find a way to use it wisely.

"Ignoring what we are makes you weak!" With a snarl Usurper dropped her flaming assault and instead extended her claw, grabbing the axe by the blade. True to her claim that they were one person the edge refused to cut her and she squeezed tighter, pulling. When Marceline began to inch forward from the brute force of Usurper trying to rip her weapon from her hands she gritted her teeth, shifting her feet into three monstrous talons of her own which dug into the hard ground, cementing her. Usurper scoffed, but grinned a self-satisfied grin. "Look at you. Can't even fight me at full strength 'cause being a goody-goody is too deep in you." Abruptly she let go of the axe and Marceline stumbled, just long enough for Usurper to turn. A thick, reptilian tail that she hadn't even notice Usurper shapeshift slammed into her thigh causing the leg to buckle.

Pain shot to the vampire's knee and up to her hip, even creeping into the base of her spine, forcing her to drop her bass once more. For a brief, horrible moment Marceline panicked, unable to ascertain if the blunt force had been enough to sever her lower spinal column, but the pain told her otherwise: no spinal column, no pain, and oh boy was there pain.. As she forced her body to heal what would otherwise be a pretty brag-worthy bruise Usurper cackled, almost intoxicated by her true self's suffering. "Is this the best you can do?! I know it isn't, 'cause I'm not even doing the best I can do! Stop being lame and either fight me like you flippin' mean it or die and stop being boring!"

Marceline hoped Usurper would turn and assault her again, would give her a chance to counter-attack, but evidently she was smarter than that, and as the half-demon straightened, leg now pain free, she found herself almost decapitated by a long, grey scythe. Instinct took over and she shifted into a small fluff bat, just in time to avoid anything of value being sliced off. The second momentum drove the scythe away she took to the sky, counting on the dark sky to at least partially shield her presence. Instead Usurper narrowed her eyes, nose wrinkling in disgust. "DUDE! Now you're even stealing my fav form?! What the butts! Come on, I'll show you a real bat." With a mad, cruel chortle Marceline's other self shifted once more. Now her scythe was an arm again, grey and tipped with sharp talons. A grey pelt sprouted, fangs lengthened, her single eye widening. As the sound of bones snapping, reforming, and snapping again sang through the air black, supple wings sprouted, tattered by fully functional.

Just as Marceline herself had done Usurper took to the sky, almost managing to snatch the other woman from the air only to miss as the smaller bat dropped. With a snarl Usurper dive-bombed after her, but by the time she had reached the ground there was no bat, leaving only one explanation for her disappearance. "You going invisible? Look, I don't know if you've forgotten what I am… what we are… but since I have your attention I'mma remind you." As Usurper spoke Marceline, hiding in the shadows, couldn't stop herself from mouthing along, compelled by some memory, some phantom from a former life, to repeat the mad-woman's speech to herself in silence, even as a bolt of pain, the sensation that a hot poker was being stabbed through her eyeball, taunted her. "We're a being of pure chaotic energy, basically invincible, able to take any form, heal any injury. We can summon fire, manipulate objects and people without touching them, stalk any prey, break any wall. We can level mountains, waste kingdoms, incite mayhem, and annihilate entire armies on our own. Whether you wanna admit it or not we're the most powerful being in all of Ooo. We're the beginning, we're the end, and we're the apocalypse that all those pre-War legends talked about."

As the large bat tilted her head, listening for any sign of her opponent Marceline considered her options. She couldn't exactly argue with the maniac; everyone, even those she knew cared about her, wouldn't dream of contesting her claims even if they did sicken the vampire. 'Can''s a large step away from 'would', you psycho.

Usurper whipped her head, but frowned when she found her counterpart had failed to reveal herself. "You think that, but obvs some part of you really wants to." A pause. "That part's me, if that wasn't clear. Look, it's real simple: if we have all this power why not use it? It's tons of fun for the whole family!"

We could use it to, you know… do other stuff! Like protect our home and friends!

Usurper sighed, head tilting in the opposite direction. "You can't even protect yourself from me, so if I gotta make us snap permanently, and I for one am having a wonderful time. Wish there was more screaming though, but I can fix that."

Marceline frowned from her hiding spot above the giant bat. Whether she liked it or not she couldn't beat Usurper, not like this, the vampire was at too much of a disadvantage. Her physical wounds may have healed but her opponent was ferocious and relentless, every much the killing machine she was-

Wait.

"You said we're the same person, right?"

Usurper's head turned sharply to the sky and she grinned. "There you are," she sang. Just as Marceline had once done to her Usurper summoned her flame, pushing it outward until the smaller bat was forced to generate a telekinetic shield, displacing the fire and revealing her position. No longer able to hide Marceline dropped all pretense landing both visibly and in her normal form. "Yay, she's back!"

Marceline refused to dignify that quip with an acknowledgement. "If we're the same person and you're rage and jealousy than you're part of me, right?"

Usurper shook her head slowly, disbelievingly, before stretching her arm to gouge Marceline in the stomach. Her talons sank into the grey flesh under the tattered cloth, piercing straight through her abdominal muscles into the supple organs under. "Sure I am! Don't you feel my fire in your belly? The urge to kill and destroy? That's me!"

As she shuddered from pain, grimacing from the strain of healing just as quickly as she was being mutilated and trying really, really hard not to think about how her own digestive tract worked Marceline's hands wrapped around the grey arm, flexing into a grip with strength disproportional to what should be possible, given how haywire her nerves were going, given the immense focus she was engaged in just to stay conscious. Even Usurper seemed surprised, head tilting even as she sensed no danger. "You know…," the injured vampire began, stopping to cough up dark blood. It was almost a retch, but she refused to give the monster the satisfaction. Instead she gritted her teeth, choking down her agony. "Now that you mention it, I do. I do feel you there. That's the secret, isn't it? You're always there, so I'm always angry."

"Right! So why fight it?"

Now Marceline's hands became claws, her fingers grey talons that pierced into the Usurper's arm, pinning it in place. "That's the secret. You're rage, and I can't destroy you. I want to, but I can't."

"Right! So why fight it?," Usurper repeated with an almost maniacal glee again. "You can't win."

"I can't destroy you, and I can't fight you," Marceline agreed, a deep barking cough escaping her, "but I don't need to. If you're part of me then all this is pointless and dumb. Yeah, you can drive me insane, and maybe I'm already too gone to ever even remember who I was-"

"You know who I am, though," Usurper grinned darkly.

"Yeah. I do. So does everyone else who met you, and I have this weird memory… of you dying. Of me dying. Don't remember how, but I remember that, and I remember Bonnie not letting her dagger hurt me. She coulda… but she looked at you and she saw me, so she didn't, and I get it now. I can't kill you, and I can't fight you, but I can beat you."

There was a loud screech, but it wasn't from Marceline. No, this time the howl of pain came straight from Usurper herself as she wrenched her arm free, her arm now covered in severe burns, the flesh once grey now almost black, stiff and tender. Instinctively she cradled it to her chest, glaring at the white flames engulfing Marceline's claws. "You BUTTNUGGET! You could've put my eye out!"

In the back of her mind Marceline was just as shocked as her counterpart, but that surprise, that realization that she had managed to purposefully summon a demonic fire for the first time in her life, would be a present for Future Marceline. For now the vampire had enough problems, chief among them healing and ending this. "I'm not doing this, Usurper. Not 'cause I can't, but 'cause I choose not to. You're part of me, and you're not a part I'm fighting anymore. I can use you to do good stuff-"

"Like protect the dweebs? Protect Bonnie?! What, you're gonna become the guardian of Ooo now or some other plop?!" No longer able to maintain her charred form Usurper returned to normal, arm still cradled. The sleeve was gone now, not even bare thread remaining, perfectly exposing the black and red mess underneath.

Marceline shook her head. "Nah, Ooo's got Finn and Jake. 'Sides, I think we both know it's just not us to be goody-goody. We just… do stuff, and it'd destroy our cred. But here's what I'm thinking, so hear me out. You wanna smash stuff. You wanna burn it down, and you don't like being told when to smash and what to burn, right? 'Cause I have this really vague memory of you telling Bonnie you don't like being in a cage, and I dig that." When she held up her still-flaming right hand Usurper's left arm ignited with purple fire in retaliation. "I'm still not going to fight you. You're… like… the second oldest part of me. You're not just my rage and my jealousy, you're also the part of me that's-"

"Completely mad?," the half-demon grinned. "Go on, you can say it. I won't be offended, I proms."

She wasn't wrong, and it wasn't worth pretending otherwise. "The same stuff that made me a loyal person made you like this-"

"And you need me," Usurper cooed.

Once more she wasn't wrong and it wasn't worth pretending otherwise, because- "You're destructive and I'm pretty sure you're a legit supervillain, but you're going back where you belong. We do this," her eyes glanced to her still-burning white fire, 'together 'cause nothing burns forests down like you. You just… gotta toast marshmallows sometimes. Still destroying junk, just a different way to look at it, you know? You're always gonna be hungry, but I don't think letting you starve is the answer."

At first Usurper said nothing, head tilted, arm still ignited. Then she shrugged, but it wasn't for the reason Marceline hoped. "Nah guy. I like me the way I am. I don't wanna be fed. I wanna hunt. And when we're done here you will too."

Before either vampire could react, before either knew what was even happening, a black spear shot past Marceline's arm from behind, bypassing her; with perfect aim it pierced Usurper's chest wound, exactly where her heart once was, exiting her backside. Only then did it curve, hooking the now enraged half-demon to the ground which cracked under the force of the downward strike. Marceline blinked, too stunned to register what had happened, too stunned to understand that something, some other force, had managed to pin Usurper to the ground and she was, for some reason, unable to dislodge herself.

Until.

"She's not really the epiphany type."

Behind her Marceline found yet another version of herself, and while she knew she should have felt surprised, felt something, all too late she had realized that somewhere in her altercation with Usurper she had grown numb. But she had no time to really consider this, what with the new threat and all. This one stood behind her, not quite close enough to easily strike but not quite far enough away to clearly mean no harm. It was odd, Marceline thought, to see herself stand and not float. What was even odder was the soft pink collar seamlessly wrapped around her new self's throat. Her hair was a soft mohawk, the sized shaved down, and she wore only a simple grey tanktop and black denim shorts. None of it was an article of clothing Marceline recognized and she narrowed her eyes, summoning her axe to her, because one thing had grabbed her attention: the straight stab wound levelled over the woman's heart. Contrary to Usurper's puncture, this one was clean and precise and Marceline felt her skin crawl at the sight of it. She was tired, she had the planet's biggest migraine, and she was just not in the mood for this. "Who the flip are you."

Curiously, though, the other vampire only tilted her head, appraising the injured woman. Her gaze strayed to the axe, then returned to position. "That's not necessary. You and I don't have a problem. I'm just here to retrieve this one," she nodded towards Usurper, "before she does any more damage."

None of that made sense in the slightest. "'Retrieve her'? And what do you mean we don't have a problem? You're part of me too, right?"

"Yeah. A pretty big part, too."

"Then what are you doing here? No, scratch that, what are you both doing here?! The dweebs put me back together when they took me out of my brain!" At least… they said they did?

The other woman's smile was almost sad, and when Usurper began to speak she drove the scythe deeper until it paralyzed her diaphragm, rendering such an action impossible. "Yeah, they put us back together, but did you think that meant we were cured?" She shrugged. "Demon fire comes from our pain and… despair." For some reason she seemed to hesitate at that word, and Marceline could almost place why before the knowledge slipped through her fingers. "The guys meant well, they just pushed too hard this time and we kinda broke."

"So you're… what? Gonna take Usurper back to wherevs?"

The other half-demon nodded. "Yeah. Bonnibel has pretty strict rules about self-mutilation. You did what you had to do to defend us, so props to you for not going overboard, but Usurper's gotta rejoin us now before she wrecks something permanently."

"You're holding her down, though. 'Cause… she's injured? Or 'cause you're just as strong." Her frown deepened. "Then why the flip weren't you here in the first place?! I coulda been ganked!"

Once more, the collared woman shrugged. "Brains are weird, man. But yeah, neither of us should be here."

Throughout their brief conversation Marceline couldn't shake some feeling, something uneasy about the vampire's presence. It was like something about her radiated loss and melancholy, sadness and regret and longing. She had felt exactly this somewhere before and her blood, dead as it was, ran cold. "You… you're the one. When I had those dreams about that room. That was you."

The woman nodded. "Yeah. That was me."

"You were waiting for Bonnie." Marceline's voice dropped to a whisper as she fought her hardest to repress the memories teetering on the edge of conscious thought. She wasn't ready for that, not yet, and she knew it.

Once more, the woman nodded. "Yeah. I waited for a long time. I knew she'd come though. She and the dweebs brought us back. I'm here to make sure we stay here."

Marceline stared at her, trying to understand. There was a subtle nuance there she was missing and it was frustrating, but something caught her attention instead: the scythe itself. "Wait. I thought… when you were in my brain you couldn't shapeshift? Except for-"

This time she smirked, but it was somehow affectionate. "Bonnibel's been a lot more laid back with us, so I guess my leash has some slack. You've been good for her. She's laughing again, she's smiling… she's happier."

"And you're good with a longer leash?"

"Yeah. As long as we're on a leash I'm good. We wouldn't be happy without one, even if it's got some slack now."

Marceline tried to gulp down her question, but it escaped anyway, the crafty fiend. "...Were you- or… I guess… was I happy when she was more like Princess Bubblegum? 'Cause I don't remember me… or, I guess… you-" ugh, this is so confusing "-being this calm before."

The fellow musician's smirk became a smile that seemed somehow far away. "I'd always be happy with her. Just… a different kind of happiness."

She remembered now. Something about that, about that sentiment and mournful tone, made her remember. "...She killed you. With the knife."

Her head shook. "No, she didn't. No matter what either of them say Usurper killed me. Bonnibel did what she had to do to bring us back. Maybe one day she'll understand that. But anyway," her attention turned back to the now thrashing vampire, "I have to take this one back with me. Gotta start healing the mindmeats." As she dragged Usurper behind her the vampire approached Marceline. This time the half-demon lowered her axe, allowing her to reach out and touch her forehead. "This is gonna suck for you, but remember what you told Usurper, alright? Oh, and tell Bonnibel she looks good in the jacket." She paused briefly, then laughed softly. "And the word you were looking for was 'rhetorical'."

There was the sensation almost like her brain itself being rearranged, as if it were playing musical chairs with Marceline's thoughts and possibly her sanity. Her vision darkened but she remained conscious, remained upright. Her wounds burned, her head ached, and exhaustion slammed into her. She turned her axe towards the ground, leaning against the staff. She panted, an odd behavior given that she needed no air… but then breathing always had been a comfort behavior she supposed. A wave of dizziness overcame her and she landed, unable to support floating anymore. Despite her best effort to use her bass as a crutch she found herself on the ground, curled against something hot.

There were voices, but not the Usurper or her counterpart whose name she didn't want to remember. They were familiar though, hushed, but nothing she registered as a threat. The words only made superficial sense to her but it wasn't the meaning she cared about, it was following them out of her haze. The fragments became beacons, unintelligible and yet guiding her somewhere unknown, but anywhere was better than where she was.

"-doing okay? She's been just staring off for a long-"

"-like I used to have after Fern-"

"-be alright, she'll snap out of it soon, then-"

"-don't wanna have to tell PB we broke her, dude we'd be so dead like forever dead-"

"Marcy? Can you hear me?"

The first full sentence, the first non-fragment, and Marceline found the haze in her mind thinning. Not exactly lifting, but clearing just enough for her sight to return. Her vision was out of focus, her head pounded, and who knew how injured she was from her ordeal, but at least she could place that voice. And the familiar burn on her cheek where a flaming hand had cupped it. Or, more accurately, was cupping it. Not that she felt the pain, not even now. "...Pheebs?"

It was a mumble, but enough to get her point across. "There we go. Guys, she's back."

At first Marceline wasn't sure who she was referring to. Then- "Finally! Dude, you had us worried nuts-butts!"

Finn? Well, that would certainly explain the explosion of noise; if Finn was there Jake couldn't be far off. But the loud noise made her wince and the boy kneeled in front of her, offering an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Marce. I forgot about how strong your hearing muscles are. Are you feeling okay?"

There was concern in his voice, but Marceline supposed that made sense; after her battle with Usurper she could only imagine how covered in wounds she must have been. "How bad is it?"

Finn and Jake exchanged a quizzical look. "How bad is what?"

Marceline frowned and reached down to her stomach as if to emphasize her grievous wounds… which would have been quite effective if there were any grievous wounds. With a start she looked down, touched her arm, her abdomen, her leg, everywhere she knew she had taken damage in her fight with Usurper. Even the dried blood on the side of her skull was missing. When she looked over her shoulder she saw not a broken landscape but instead Phoebe's castle, which she appeared to be propped again. "What the fuzz…?"

Phoebe granted her a levelled look, some mixture between concern and determination, though the cause was impossible for the vampire to concern. "What happened?"

Marceline gradually sat up, gradually being the key word. Even if her physical wounds were missing the searing pain behind her left eye and the trembling that always indicated muscle fatigue were not. Also the regular fatigue, that made itself apparent as well. "I… I met her."

"Met who?"

"...Usurper."

Jake's eyes widened. "Uh uh. No way. Don't tell me she's back, 'cause… oh man, she's probably mega-mad about the eye thing, huh? 'Cause-"

Finn gave him a look, but it didn't stop his panic. Instead the boy shook his head, returning to his dazed ladybro. He'd deal with his brother's freak out in a minute. "What happened?" His voice was softer now, softer and understanding.

"We fought. She showed up and we just… wailed on each other…" As the half-demon trailed off she raised her hands, flexing them. "She was like… I dunno. Trying to make me worse? Is that a thing brains do?" Ugh, where's Bonnie when you need her? Where indeed. "Then when I got her pinned someone else showed up… ah, crud, I didn't get her-" She blinked, looking up at Finn. "You'd know. I know you'd know."

"Know what?"

"Who she was."

Finn nodded, slowly, trepidation evident. "Yeah… but…"

She knew where this was going. "I want to know. I need to know, Finn. She was strong enough to stop Usurper, so she's gotta be a big part of me, right? I need to know what she is and why she helped me."

As waving as it was the musician's voice was firm and the young hero didn't have it in him to argue. Sure, telling her could go horribly wrong, what with whatever the flip just happened… but if she wanted to know how could he say no? What right did he have not to tell her? He was her friend, and though that often meant protecting friends from themselves this was a first, her wanting to know what happened in her own mind. How could he refuse. "...Alright, Marce. What did she look like?"

"Besides me?" She rubbed the back of her neck; even her collar was still in place- "...She had a pink collar. And a mohaw-" But at the words 'pink collar' Finn's eyes widened and Jake suddenly looked quite uncomfortable indeed. "What is it? You know, don't you?" There was that anger again, but it was weaker than before. Or maybe I'm just tired.

"Yeah…" He sighed. Was he prepared for this? Did it matter? "Her name is Tyrant. She was one of the three Big Baddies, the ones of you that were the strongest in your mind."

"She had a knife wound. Was that…?"

"Yeah. That's where PB…" He shook his head to clear the memory. Now was not the time to regale her with that particular story. "She was your loyalty, and she wasn't a bad guy. She saved us. Def a true ladybro."

Marceline nodded absently, turning to stare vaguely at the black and red landscape of the Fire Kingdom. "Yeah… she didn't try anything. Just… took Usurper back to somewhere? Then… I was here? Ugh!" She rested her head in her hands. "This is so dumb! I don't even know what the flip! First I was fighting her and we were wailing on one another now I'm here and not hurt except for my head-"

Finn looked over his shoulder at his brother and second ladybro before kneeling, putting his hand on Marceline's shoulder. It earned him a glare, but at least it stopped her. "...Remember PB's spy room? Before we went to the Nightosphere the first time? When I… and then you…?"

Oh. That actually explained a lot.

"So… what? I lost it?" She almost added 'like a loser' before remembering that Finn wasn't a stranger to psychosis as well, that she had seen him so vulnerable, and so instead she figuratively bit her tongue. Somehow it was more acceptable to her if it was Finn, not for any malicious reason but because his own experience seemed more valid. He had accidentally killed his friend. She was just being a legit lame.

Finn's smile was understanding. "Happens, Marce. You went through some stuff. You alright now?"

Was she? She turned her attention to her hand and extended it, focusing. "Well, when I was fighting Usurper I actually summoned my fire. So…" Concentration, the sensation of pushing something forward, something deep in her… and it all culminated in a single ember of white fire. "Oh, come on!," she growled.

Contrary to her ire, though, Finn's eyes widened just as much as Jake's. "Dude! That was awesome!" It was weird because he sounded so genuine.

"Was not."

He shook his head, grinning. "Marce, come on, you gotta admit that was righteous."

"It was like… a spark. A weak one."

"But it was white! It wasn't even orange at all!"

"He's right you know." As she approached the pair Phoebe seemed to almost smirk. "Until now your fire was orange, and only with rage did it ever turned white. You seem angry now but it's coming from you being hurt and your fire skipped its orange stage entirely. Even if it was small it's remarkable improvement for just an evening of training." Marceline grunted, turning away. "Why don't we continue tomorrow? It's still early in the evening, but I think you could use the rest, even if you won't admit it." Another grunt and she brought her knees to her chest, feeling too exposed.

"She's got a point, Marce. 'Sides, I don't wanna have to explain to PB that we broke you. She's scary when she's mad mad."

You have no idea, Finn. "Fine," she murmured.

"Rock. Phoebe, is it alright if we crash here? Then we can do more after some-"

"Snacks!," Jake emphasized. "Jake's got the hungies only snacks are gonna satisfy! I'm wasting away!"

Phoebe nodded, wrapping her hand around Marceline's arm to help her stand. Despite the burns Marceline barely seemed to notice. "That's probably best, and there's plenty of room here." Only once she was sure that Marceline could stand on her own power did she let go, leaving the burns to heal. "I'll have a couple of rooms prepared, and yes, Jake," she turned to him, eyebrow raised, "I'll make sure to find some food suitable for you." Ignoring his soft cheer the fire elemental returned her attention to the queen. "Am I right to assume that Bubblegum packed something for you to eat?"

"Probably," she grumbled. And it's probably got her blood in it, too. Ugh.

"Good-"

"You know…" Jake's interruption was accompanied by a sly grin. "If the night's still young and we got snacks we should celebrate Marceline getting a white fire, right?"

Finn knew where this was going and his grin was just as sly. "You thinking what I'm thinking, bro?"

The dual cheers of 'MOVIE NIGHT!' were followed by the brothers racing to the castle.

Phoebe shook her head, but only trailed after when she was sure Marceline was going to follow. "Are you alright?"

It struck Marceline how odd that question was, both because it was impossible to answer and because whereas Bonnibel had asked it gently, as if the older woman were made of glass, Phoebe's concern was firmer, matter-of-fact. Still caring, but more concerned for the cause and effect of the musician's psychotic break from reality, rather than the emotions behind it. Both attempts were just as valid, but- "I'm just tired," she sighed.

"From what just happened?" But Phoebe's voice indicated that she knew better. This was a prompt and nothing more.

"Just… being different, I guess. It's ruining my cred and it's just making stuff worse for everyone else. Maybe I should just bail, Pheebs."

"Marceline." Odd how the younger woman could mimic the exact some tone Simon once did, when she was much younger and had said something ridiculous. "That's bonkers. We're all here because we want to help, and we both know that if you did run Bubblegum would send a fully armed banana battalion to find you, and I might be inclined to help her." It was a threat, and Phoebe didn't make threats she didn't intend to keep. It was one of the reasons she and Bonnibel clashed so often, a fact Marceline was all-too aware of. "I may not have journeyed to the mindscape, but I know running isn't the answer. Finn and Jake would go looking for you too, then you'd just feel worse that you made us worry." Marceline suddenly felt very small. "If you want space we can give you space, but be real. Is that what you want, girl?"

Now it was an actual question, less an 'I told you so' and more of a 'how can I help?' Marceline exhaled strongly, but shook her head before she realized she was doing so. It was instinct. Stupid, stupid instinct.

Phoebe bobbed her head. "Why don't we head inside, before Jake eats me out of house and home?"

Marceline was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. I'll be there in a sec." When Phoebe raised a skeptical eyebrow the vampire gave her a weak smile. "I will, I promise. I just wanna… I dunno."

"Have a moment to think?" Without waiting for a response Phoebe strolled to her castle. "You know where we'll be. See you soon, girl."

Marceline watched her walk off, waiting until she was certain the flame princess was out of earshot. Then she reached into her shirt, retrieving the holo-crystal. Every instinct in her demanded that she call Bonnibel, that she tell her about her profound break from reality, about how she remembered Usurper and, to a lesser extent, Tyrant. Especially about Tyrant. She wanted to tell her how the guys were right, it was a big improvement that she summoned a white flame, even it was little more than a spark. There was just one problem: Bonnibel had indicated that in Marceline's absence she would be doing princess junk, which meant calling her lover meant every possibility that she wouldn't get Bonnie, she'd get Princess Bubblegum. After everything she had just gone through that wouldn't be something she could handle. As much as she wanted to see her Bonnibel she feared seeing her princess persona more.

This was so skronked up.

Tucking the crystal back into her shift Marceline strapped her bass to her back before grabbing the very full backpack prepared for her, floating after her friends. Just as Phoebe had claimed the immortal woman knew exactly where to go. After all, it wasn't the first time she had retreated to her friend's home for a movie night. Unlike Bubblegum's palace Phoebe's castle was more practical. The walls were the same warm volcanic stone as the outer crust, harder than even the ground as it wasn't covered with soot, though without the soot the castle was naturally tinted red. Burning stalagmites decorated the castle's floor, the tops ground smooth over time; the only real decorations it had. The walls featured haphazard entrances, each triangular and most missing any sort of door. Something about Phoebe not wanting to mar her kingdom's natural beauty.

Honestly, if you didn't know your way around the entire building was like a maze. There were odd twists and turns, for Phoebe refused to alter the natural landscape that formed the castle in the first place. Fortunately for Marceline she had spent quite a bit of time in this castle, both before and after Phoebe's birth. Up the numerous steps she didn't need to climb, in and out a series of doors, passed several denizens who had grown so used to her presence they merely waved an acknowledgement, and there they were. The television was, to Finn and Jake's surprise, rather new in comparison to their own; it was actually something Marceline had found and brought to the younger woman, had taught her how to manipulate for reasons even she didn't remember, though she had seen fit to use her demonic abilities to make it fireproof. Whereas Phoebe was quite comfortable on her hair stone chair Jake had decided it best to become a couch, and Finn had decided it best to allow it. When he saw her he waved and Jake patted his back, next to Finn. "Come on," he whined through a mouthful of some food stuff Marceline wasn't quite sure of. "We wanna start."

Finn eyed him, frowning. "Dude, don't be weird."

Jake narrowed his eyes at him, mumbling about freedom of expression. But his offer was too tempting and Marceline landed next to Finn, lowering her bass and backpack with odd care. The two brothers squabbled over what to watch before Phoebe made some decision for them, some decision they seemed content with. And so the four settled into a comfortable night, a night of throwing popcorn at one another, of offering hilarious commentary, and though Marceline - content as a little bat on Jake's furry back - was asleep before the credits rolled the night continued on, because as all three had repeatedly stated she was still Marceline, their best ladybro, and no amount of mental trauma would ever convince them otherwise. Marceline's final thoughts before succumbing to sleep were of Bonnibel, and wondering what she was up to.

She had no idea that what her mate was up to would change everything, for everyone, forever.