Marceline strums on her guitar one night at the treehouse, after the stuff with Ash and her memories got fixed. She doesn't like thinking about the past, more than she has to, but just now it doesn't hurt so much anymore. She thinks, memories are a funny thing. They come and go; she thinks about the tide. It rises and it falls.
The echo of the past, of the days and thoughts and times that made you, hurts more some days, and others, it hurts less.
It was funny, she realizes slowly, her fingers gently working out a tune and below her floating body, a human boy and a talking dog are winding down, getting sleepy. It's a comforting thing, immersed in what feels like family to her.
There's a lot of feelings right now. Most of them don't hurt much.
(She can see the spiky heights of the Ice Kingdom from here. They sit there like a huge brooding beast; not the kind of monster that chases you, but like the kind that just sits and waits. It's like inevitability, too. The worst kind is the one that stays there, and you can't forget it no matter how much you try.
She thinks about Hambo, lost in the clutches of a witch, and she wants to cry. It's an old hurt, but the day's events have her mourning all over again.
Nonetheless. She did think 'most' for a reason. Just for a while, she can pretend its all okay, that being on speaking terms with her dad is the best she can do.
Marceline doesn't know it, but from a distance, the Ice King has noticed her. He is sitting there, and his brain is a painful stew of compulsions and misfiring memories and vague reminders of stuff he thinks he wants. Maybe tomorrow it'll be something bad. Maybe tomorrow he'll just forget about until her name pops up like a buoy too big, too important to be ignored, something so heavy that a huge part of his mind orbits around it even if there's no context for it anymore. 'Marceline', he says to himself, and wonders why he wants to cry but feels good about it at the same time.
He's a long way from coming back into her life. He is a long, long way from making the slow climb back up from what he has become, to being pulled back into love and light and leaving the cold behind. It can't happen for a while. But Finn and Jake are there, sometimes, sometimes enemies but just as often the closest things he has to friends, a warm and happy feeling inside that makes him want to try for them instead of just shouting until he gets his way.
Not yet. But soon enough.)
Marceline Abadeer closes her eyes. The past is an anchor, its an ocean. It sinks her deep, and pulls her under, and it seems there's no end of the things that hurt her; the things she said or did, the things she wanted to say or to do but didn't do them or didn't think to do them until it was too late or she only realized she should have done it with the benefit of hindsight.
She thinks of people like Ash. She's known her fair share. She also knows, in an intellectual sort of way, she lets herself get taken in by cruel men and mean women and lets them walk all over her; the willing victim to people who knew vulnerability no matter how much she tries to snarl and bite.
She strums, the beginnings of a gentle lullaby. She looks down, at a small human boy and a dog contorted into an impossible shape that sort of looks like a smile.
She remembers a little demon girl, alone in a world with nothing quite like her. She knew there were plenty of monsters in it, and she thought she was one of them. She certainly met a lot of them, one way or another.
She didn't think she was the kind of person who deserved to live in a time of heroes, or to meet real heroes.
She glances, out of the corner of her eye, at Finn. A human, she thinks. Probably alone in all the world, as best as she can guess. Almost as much as she was, once.
She closes her eyes and keeps strumming, as he falls asleep.
She looks around the treehouse.
Funny. She thought it would hurt, hanging out here again, after thinking about Ash.
None of it felt like him here any more. It was just Finn and Jake's place.
She let herself drift away into a kind of half-sleep, and she let one eye open for a moment to look out the window at the Ice Kingdom. She let the reminder stick there, just needling into her heart for a bit, and it felt okay. She was fine with hurt.
Finding love like a family all over again was scarier than just being hurt.
She wondered how long it would last, and she was surprised to think that she didn't mind finding out.