I meant to post this yesterday, I apologise for not doing so. Massive love and hugs to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited so far, genuinely when I get an alert email letting me know someone likes what I write it makes my day. You are all so wonderful and I love you guys so much.

Only four days til Christmas. Want a challenge fic as a present? Ask! I'll write it asap.

Content Warning: From this chapter onward it's going to get increasingly dark. Like, however dark you're thinking? Probably darker. So for this chapter trigger warnings for medical language (some people genuinely find that triggering, I'm not being sarcastic), discussions of domestic violence, violent homophobia, historical character death.

"Hey Simon, it's Marcy. How are you feeling? Can you hear me? I'm here, anyway. I brought a friend with me, her name's Bonnie."

Marceline was used to Simon mostly ignoring her when she spoke these days so it was the best kind of surprise when he turned his head towards her and focussed bleary eyes on her face.

"Marcy?" he repeated, confused.

"That's right, Uncle Simon. I'm Marcy, your niece."

"I know you."

"Yeah, I come see you all the time. I bring you cheesecake. Do you remember?"

He nodded, still seeming confused but with a little more certainty in his pale eyes than she'd been accustomed to seeing in recent weeks.

"My niece. Marceline. You're Hunson's girl."

She flinched; of all the things he could have remembered about her it had to be her father.

"You're so big now." Simon continued, staring at her critically. "You look so much like your mother when she was your age. How old are you now?"

"I'm twenty one, Simon. Almost twenty two. I've got my birthday at the end of next month."

He nodded carefully, as though that made any kind of sense to him at all. Marceline took his hand and sank weakly into the cheap plastic chair by his bed. It had been so long since Simon had had a good day and really remembered her. She didn't want to waste one precious second of it even if it meant he wanted to talk about her father.

"I took you to the funfair when you were little." Simon said suddenly, smiling in a way she'd almost forgotten. "We went on the Ferris wheel, you and me and your Mum. I won you a teddy bear on the crane machine. Do you remember?"

Marceline almost laughed and nearly sobbed; there was something heartbreakingly ironic in him asking her if she remembered.

"Yeah, it was the best birthday ever! I still have the teddy bear, he's still my best friend." she told him, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

Simon nodded again and closed his eyes, resting his snowy head back against the pillows. He winced a little and Marcy leaned forwards worriedly to watch his pale face intently for any trace of pain.

"My chest is sore." he told her quietly after a while.

"Yeah, you had to have surgery. They had to put a tube into your heart, Uncle Simon. To help the blood flow properly."

"Oh. I… that must be why it hurts. I'm ill, aren't I? Is Betty coming to see me?"

Her heart fell; he'd been doing so well. Marceline hesitated, wondering if she should explain to him yet again that his wife had died a long time ago. In the end she couldn't bring herself to watch his heart break all over again. She took the coward's approach instead.

"Not today, Uncle Simon. Betty can't come today" she replied quietly.

"Are you the nurse?" he asked with a confused frown, looking at Bonnie who was hovering nervously in the corner unsure what to do now that she wasn't needed to offer comfort.

"Me? No, I'm Marceline's friend."

"Oh. Her... friend?"

"That's right. I was really upset when I found out you were ill and you'd been taken to hospital and Bonnie came to keep me company while I was waiting to see you." Marceline soothed. She squeezed Simon's scarred hand carefully and smiled at the way he looked around at her voice. It was a painful kind of wonderful when he had good days. She knew it wouldn't last long but it was the highlight of her year when Simon looked into her face and actually saw her.

"Hey, do you want me to get you a coffee?" Bonnie asked her quietly after a minute. Marceline nodded, distantly relieved to discover that the redhead could do subtlety after all.

"Yeah, thanks. That'd be great. Think they can make it with soy milk in the canteen here?"

"I'll go and find out. Might take me a while, don't go anywhere."

Bonnie squeezed her shoulder comfortingly and let herself out of the room with a quiet goodbye. Marceline was fairly sure she wouldn't be back for a while; seemed like she could recognise when someone needed some time alone. Perhaps it was a skill she'd developed when dealing with Finn's transition, Marceline reasoned. The slight blonde boy seemed like the kind of person who needed to just have his space for a while sometimes. The door slid shut with a click and she turned back to Simon, all thoughts of Finn forgotten. She wanted to fling herself on her uncle and hug him tightly, cry on his shoulder and tell him how much she missed him. But the mass of bandages and dressings on his chest were enough to keep her in her chair. Instead she clung onto his gnarled hand just like she had on her seventh birthday at the fairground.

"Don't let him know." Simon warned her in what she recognised as his rarely used serious voice. Marceline stared at him; his eyes were open again and he was watching her face with a pensive expression.

"Don't let who know what?"

"Your father. Don't let him know about your girlfriend, he would react very badly indeed. He does not accept that kind of lifestyle and he already has ideas about what your future will be."

"She's not my girlfriend." Marcy muttered, looking down at their hands. Simon was looking at her more clearly than he had in a long time and his speech was more direct, more awake than he usually sounded. If she let herself pretend it was almost like he wasn't ill.

"But you want her to be. It's written all over your face, Marceline. Please, do not let Hunson know. He's... he hurts your mother, hits her when he gets angry. Please don't let him do that to you or your girl. Don't give him any more reasons to hurt you."

"I know what he did to Mum. I saw it often enough and I wasn't planning on letting that bastard know anything about me ever again. He's not part of my life anymore; I haven't seen him since I was a kid. You saved me from him, don't you remember?"

Simon nodded seriously and squeezed her hand. After a moment he continued, a little gruffly.

"I just want the best for you. Me and Betty both do. So, as long as that girl treats you well and makes you happy then you'll always have our blessing, we'll help you hide it from Hunson. And it's always good to have a nurse in the family."

Marceline just smiled warmly and ran her thumb over the deep bubbling scars that ran from the back of Simon's hands all the way up his arms to his biceps, as familiar to her as every single line and curve of her own skin. It was more effort than it was worth to explain that Bonnie wasn't a nurse, or her girlfriend. And it was unexpectedly wonderful not to have to go through a traumatic coming out to Simon. Ironic that the day he was taken so seriously ill was such a good day for his memory that he knew who she was and could still read her moods, at least for a little while. Perhaps they should have talked about other stuff and she did consider changing the subject but it made her weirdly happy to hear her uncle validate a part of her identity that was usually ignored by everyone, especially herself. She'd never even thought about it much, hadn't had the time or head space to process it. And somewhere deep down she'd been too afraid to face it head on because she remembered more of her father than just the way he'd slap her mother around. Marceline remembered his attitudes too.

"I always knew Marcy was different." Simon continued, closing his eyes again. "I knew ever since she was a little girl, I think her mother did too. Claudia hid it as best she could from Hunson because he was always unreasonable homophobic and she just wanted her little daughter to be happy. She was such a tomboy! Always climbing trees and getting muddy and scraping up her knees. Such a charmer too! She could light up a whole room with her smile. My sweet little girl. I want her to know that there's nothing wrong with her. She's perfect just the way that she is. Don't let her hear any of that Old Moscow Family crap that tells her otherwise. Tell her we love her no matter who she is."

She nodded, unexpectedly tearful at his abrupt acceptance.

"Dad used to say that homosexuals were paedophiles, perverts, the worst kind of filth. That they should be lined up and shot, 'fixed' somehow. That was the worst. I didn't understand when I was little but I think I know what he meant by that now and it terrifies me. Do you think I'm a pervert, Uncle Simon?" Marceline whispered after a moment, knowing what he'd say but needing to hear it anyway. Because when she took the time to really think about it there were some pretty massive emotional wounds that Hunson's violently homophobic attitudes had left on her that she'd never really examined or attempted to heal. She'd never wanted to accept they would apply to her.

"You? No. I think you're just like everyone else, darling. Just as wonderful and just as perfectly human no matter who you love." he replied gently. "Make sure Marcy knows that, too."

"I'll tell her." Marceline replied roughly in a voice half choked with some thick emotion she didn't want to try to name in case it turned out to be too hard to deal with on top of everything else.

"Do you mind if I sleep? I'm getting tired."

She nodded again and pressed a careful kiss to his whiskery cheek. She wasn't certain he even knew who she was right now. He'd been talking about her in the third person so perhaps he thought she was his sister or some other family member.

"Sleep well and feel better soon. Love you, Simon."

"I'll try. Love you too, Marcy."

No, she was wrong. It seemed that he knew exactly who he was talking to after all. His eyes slid closed and after a few minutes his breathing slowed and deepened in sleep. It might be months before he was so lucid again, or it might never happen at all. There was no way to know. Marceline waited until Simon was snoring deeply to let her tears fall again. Her heart beat heavily with a nameless emotion; head swirled with things she'd left repressed and unexamined for too long and so much bittersweet love for the man who'd raised her.

...

There was a small pack of photographers and assorted press hanging around the main accident and emergency waiting rooms. Bonnie wondered briefly which celebrity had turned up at the hospital but she realised she didn't actually care. She just continued on her quest to find a canteen on any floor that would make a vegan coffee for Marceline. It was obvious her uncle had some kind of memory loss problems, most likely vascular dementia if he also had heart problems. Bonnie hadn't completely followed the conversation between Marceline and her uncle but from what she'd understood he often forgot who she was and needed to be reminded. Marceline was obviously very close to him. Nobody else had arrived and she'd not mentioned contacting anymore, so maybe he was the only family she had? She'd flinched back when Simon had mentioned her father; Bonnie got the feeling there was probably a story behind that. And as socially awkward as she was she knew better than to ask about it right then.

As she walked she considered how terrible it must be not to have any family. Her own mother lived not too far from her little apartment in Leyton and they saw each other most weeks, their houses were within walking distance of each other. She hadn't seen her Dad or his new wife in quite a while but she supposed she'd probably miss them if anything happened to them. Bonnie knew on an intellectual level that one day she'd be walking into a hospital morgue to say goodbye to her parents but she hoped it wasn't for a long time to come. She couldn't even begin to imagine how alone Marceline must have felt if she'd lost her entire family so young.

She finally found the main hospital canteen and plucked up all her courage to ask the harassed looking waitress wiping down tables if they had soy milk. The woman looked at her like she'd grown an extra head which Bonnie took to mean 'no'.

"We got whole, semi or skimmed." the waitress told her, perplexed.

"No, I need vegan milk." Bonnie replied distractedly. She was half watching the small press of photographers that were setting up in the corner of the room. Obviously they expected Mystery Celebrity to appear there sooner or later. One of them had even excitedly taken a snap of Bonnie scratching her head and frowning into the cold drinks cabinet. She frowned harder and glared at the man who shot her a cheeky wink and went back to staring at the main doors.

In the end Bonnie just grabbed a carton of apple juice and a couple of slightly over ripe bananas along with a flapjack for herself. She didn't know if Marceline had eaten or if there was even any food in the canteen that was definitely vegan other than fruit. She grabbed a chair in an out of the way corner and sat, slowly nibbling on the flapjack while she texted Lady.

So I'm at the hospital with Marceline, we were gonna got to dinner again but then her uncle got rushed in with a heart attack. So… can I ask your opinion about something? x

She wasn't waiting long before she got a reply.

Oooh hot date! Go for it, I'm not as good as Lydia but I can try

Bonnie considered. Maybe she was just reading too much into it. But she was certain, a bit, about seventy percent certain at least.

We were hugging and she sort of pulled me a bit closer and I think she might have been about to make a move on me but we got interrupted by a doctor. Do you think she's interested? I dunno, I asked her if we were friends and she just laughed and reminded me we went to dinner? I was certain she was straight but now I don't know. Maybe I just really want to kiss her so I'm projecting? Why are women such hard work!? x

Lady replied after all of about thirty seconds.

YESSSSS you dork, kiss her she's totally hot for you! OMG this is way exciting I KNEW she liked you!

Bonnie frowned. That wasn't how Lady texted at all, that was more like-

Lyds?

Her phone buzzed immediately.

Perhaps, nerd :D

Bonnie nearly groaned out loud. That was the last thing she wanted; she'd texted Lady because the quiet girl could usually keep a secret. Lady must have left her phone unattended around Lydia which everyone knew was a rookie mistake. Actually when she thought about it the first message should have given her a clue; Lady was fairly unlikely to reply praising Lydia like that. Bonnie sighed and composed a terse reply.

DO NOT make a big deal out of it. It is not a big deal. I'll be home late, no idea how long I'll be at the hospital. Please… just try not to make a big deal of it?

It took a while longer to get a text back after that. Bonnie was nearly finished her flapjack and she'd been away from Marceline's uncle's room for a decent amount of time. She judged she'd left them to talk for long enough.

Not a chance, dorkface! We've been taking bets on who would make the first move since last weekend. Finn owes me a tenner :D I knew she was into you!

Bonnie slid her phone back into her pocket with a quiet growl. Trust Lydia to somehow interfere and make the whole thing into An Event. And bloody Finn, he should know better than to join in! She was furious at the both of them.

By the time Bonnie found her way back to Marceline's uncle's private room she'd managed to get her anger under control. But only because she didn't want to have to explain to the other girl why she was so annoyed. She entered quietly and slid into the chair next to Marceline, mindful not the wake the old man snoring softly in his hospital bed.

"How is he?" she asked quietly.

"Lucid, which is a nice surprise." Marceline replied. "Simon's got dementia and he doesn't often remember me. Of course it'd be a good day when he has a fucking heart attack. That's just typical Simon."

To Bonnie's surprise Marceline shifted a touch closer and leaned her head on her shoulder with a long sigh.

"Thank you so much for being here." she said again, so quietly it was almost a whisper. "Simon's the only family I have left. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, too."

Bonnie nodded, unsure if she was glad she'd been right or not and distractedly aware of how the other girl's breath was ghosting across the exposed side of her throat. It was warm and sweet and so close that her lips were almost brushing Bonnie's skin. She had to repress the shivers that each breath caused, not wanting to do anything at all that might bring the unexpected closeness to an end. In an uncharacteristically brave move Bonnie reached down and gently took Marceline's hand. She carefully laced her fingers through the other girl's and rubbed her thumb soothingly against the velvety skin of her wrist.

"Like I said, I'm your friend." Bonnie replied just as quietly. Marceline squeezed her hand in reply and snuggled a little closer.

They sat like that for a long time. The room was silent but for the low beep of Simon's heart monitor and their mingled breathing as they watched the old man's bandaged chest move up and down in his sleep. After what felt like hours, though it couldn't have been more than a single hour at most, a nurse stuck her head around the door. Both girls jumped and Marceline leaned away from Bonnie's shoulder, dropping her hand immediately.

"I thought it was you." the portly nurse muttered, mostly to herself. "You'll need to use the staff exit, Miss Ab- um, Petrikova. Someone must have recognised you from the papers or recognised your uncle's name. There are a number of photographers in the public waiting areas and I'm sure you'll want to avoid a scene. People still remember your mother."

Marceline looked like she'd been hit in the face. She stared at the nurse for a long moment, wide eyed like a deer in the headlights. Bonnie stared at her too, confused and unsure what it was she'd missed.

"What the fuck? Some bastard called the papers? But… it was so long ago. I guess I look like her but- but how is this even news? I wish they'd just fucking leave me alone!" Marceline replied with a heavy scowl, suddenly tense and upset again. Bonnie gaped at her; she was the celebrity the press were chasing? But she wasn't famous. She played in dingy pubs and took her payment in free cranberry juice. It made no sense at all but Bonnie knew better than to ask just then.

The nurse just nodded sympathetically and offered her an understanding smile.

"We do have protocols in place for things like this. You're not the first person we've had to hustle away quietly. My shift is finished now anyway, I can show you where the staff entrance is." she murmured in reply. Bonnie wanted to ask more but Marceline was standing, looking around the room critically for something.

"Do you think I can borrow a uniform or something, and maybe a hat?" she asked the nurse eventually.

...

They escaped through the staff entrance into an underground car park. Marceline was disguised in a shapeless nurse's shirt over her own clothes with her hair tucked up under a wide brimmed sun hat that had apparently been in the lost and found office for months. Just to be extra careful Bonnie went around every corner first and peered around for people waiting with long lens cameras. Finally they were free from the hospital grounds and could sprint down the now darkened street together. They ran still arm in arm, trying not to act suspiciously just in case anyone was watching the streets around the hospital too. Bonnie didn't think she'd ever been involved in anything quite so weird and she was burning with curiosity to know why they were hiding from photographers. Once they were firmly ensconced in the back of a hastily flagged black cab and they'd gotten a good few streets away she turned to Marceline who was busy shaking her waist length black hair out from under the hat and tugging the borrowed shirt off.

"Ok." Bonnie said, a little breathlessly. "Spill. I smuggled you out of the hospital, James Bond style, and there are people with cameras chasing you all over London. Wanna tell me what the hell is going on? Are you a spy or something?"

She'd meant it lightly but the other girl's smile died on her face and Marceline was suddenly much more interested in staring at her fingernails. Bonnie remembered too late that she'd said Simon was the only family she had left. It occurred to her that maybe the press weren't tailing her friend just because of her musical talent.

"My Dad killed my Mum and he's spent most of my life in prison. I was only seven years old when I last saw him and most of the time I pretend he's dead too. Dad was involved in organised crime and every time anyone tries to link him to further charges their body turns up in the river sooner or later. He still has contacts on the outside and he's managed to avoid actually being prosecuted for most of it. He's killing anyone who informs on him, he always gets to them in the end. After Mum died I had to go live with Simon because he was the only family member I had left. Then a few years ago he started acting weird and forgetting things and stuff. I dropped out of school and looked after him but this year it got so bad he had to go into care and now I'm basically alone again. He knows he loves me but he doesn't know why. He can barely remember who I am most of the time."

Marceline said it in a flat voice completely devoid of emotion, like she was reading it from a book. The whole time she gazed out of the taxi window at the dark buildings sliding past them and never once made eye contact. Bonnie stared at her, absolutely horrified.

"You're... I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Your own Dad killed your Mum? Why? I mean, I'm sorry, it's so rude of me to ask that. You don't have to talk about it-" Bonnie broke off with a squeak as the other girl turned and wrapped her back into another crushing hug.

"I'm so glad you're my friend." she muttered unexpectedly against Bonnie's hair. "I've done nothing but talk about it, for years, and you're the first person who ever apologised for asking me questions. Everyone thinks that because Mum was moderately famous- she was a model, before she married my Dad and he stole all her independence- well they think they can just ask me anything. Like my grief is public property because people know her name."

Bonnie nodded as best she could with her face pushed against the other girl's shoulder. She didn't know exactly how it felt to have a famous murderer for a father but she was willing to bet it was awful. The cab lurched to a sudden standstill in front of a rundown looking apartment building and Marcy shoved a handful of loose notes at the driver.

"This is my stop." she mumbled, letting go of Bonnie and turning her face away to hide her expression behind a sheet of hair. Bonnie hesitated; it wasn't far from Bethnal Green underground and she doubted even the fistful of cash Marceline had handed the driver would cover her as far as Leyton. Should she get out with her, walk her up to her building? Or was that too forward?

"I'll walk you to your door." Bonnie heard herself say. Apparently her mouth had made its mind up while she was still dithering. Heart suddenly hammering again she slid out of the cab after the other girl and followed her towards the stairwell leading to the first floor corridor.

"This used to be Simon's place, until he got too ill and had to go to Whitehills. I just... it's the only place I've called home that has happy memories for me, I wanted to stay." the dark haired girl explained as they walked. Bonnie just nodded, unsure what to say.

They stopped in front of a flaky painted red door and Marceline turned to her, looking her fully in the face for the first time since they left the hospital.

"Look, thank you for today. This was in no way as fun as Ramiro's would have been. Wanna go some other time?" she asked softly.

"Um, sure. I'd like that." Bonnie mumbled. Was it a date? Should she ask? She had no idea; she suspected she'd probably be the last person to know.

But this time she was sure she wasn't imagining it. Bonnie's heart almost stopped dead in her chest with shock and joy and some kind of unnameable fullness. Because Marceline was swaying forwards again, closing the distance between their faces and in another second their lips would touch-

At precisely the same moment Bonnie became distantly aware of footsteps on the stairwell. Marceline changed her trajectory entirely and swung her head to the side, leaning in for an awkward hug instead.

"Thanks for today." she mumbled, pressing her cheek against Bonnie's for a brief second before pulling back. And then, more loudly and in an entirely false cheerful voice, "Hey, Mo! Been waiting in ambush for me to come home, huh? Don't worry, I didn't forget about your bass lesson."

There was a hulking teenage boy staring at them from the end of the corridor with a huge old fashioned bass case slung over one shoulder. He couldn't be older than about sixteen and he was glaring at Bonnie with open jealousy and disgust.

"You remember Bonnie, right? My friend from the pub. Bon, this is Baseem Mohammed, he's the boy from downstairs that I tutor." Marceline said still a touch too loudly, grinning nervously back and forth between them. "Bonnie was just heading home, B-Mo." she added.

With a forced nonchalant shrug Bonnie turned towards the stairs. There was already a sharp churn of rejection in her gut and she was desperate to escape to somewhere she could have the meltdown she knew was coming in private. She pushed past the boy and almost tripped in her haste to get down the stairs.

"Hey, I'll text you about dinner!" Marceline called after her. Bonnie just raised a hand and waved over her shoulder. She didn't want to risk speaking and give away the intense stab of hurt that the other girl's strange behaviour had caused to lance through her chest.