Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One - Does Anyone Remember?

Finn stares straight ahead, unable to tear himself away from the numbness that filled him. Although he didn't remember much of the trip, he found himself standing in front of his treehouse. He was home, home... the empty shell of a place that once held happiness and warmth. It wasn't home now, just a place to sleep and store things.

Taking a key out of his pocket, he opens the front door into the treasure room. Wandering in, he shrugs off his green backpack, letting the well-worn bag drop onto the floor and spill open. A few coins roll from its depths, stopping against the already massive piles filling the room. Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the room and shadowing Finn's features into a skeletal mask. A low distant rumble of thunder warns of the impending storm's arrival.

Unconsciously he swings his arm, aiming to shut the door behind him. He clips it, sending it swinging, but it doesn't latch. Slowly, shuffling toward the ladder, he makes his way up to the living room. He simply stands there, staring into the dark room. The place was quiet, unearthly quiet and still. Scanning the space, his eyes alight on a sheet of paper propped up on the table. Gingerly walking forward, he can see it has the sloppy handwriting of his brother. Picking it up, he holds it close to face to read in the darkened room.

Yo Bro,
Lady needs some help with the kids so I'm gonna head over and see what I can do. BMO came with me. Food's in the fridge, make sure you eat. Be back in a few days. Later bro.
Jake

He reads the note twice then lets the paper fall from his fingers as his arm drops to his side.

"You too, Bro..." His voice sounds strained and weak, as if the very act of speaking was more than he could muster. Lightning flashes again, accompanied again by the low rumble of thunder. Then the rain starts, first lightly then quickly turning into a downpour, pelting the foliaged roof the massive treehouse. Still standing by the table, Finn slowly looks around the room, seeing all the things that filled his life, once upon a time, with a sense of happiness, of hope, of love ... of... "Home." he whispers into the darkness.

Lightning crashes as a single tear rolls down his face. He looks over toward the clock, it was late, nearly 11pm. Another tear spills down his face as he reaches up and pulls off his white hat. Free from its restriction, his blonde hair tumbles down, obscuring his face. He closes his eyes as more tears start to flow and stands there, head bowed, in the darkness weeping silently. His hand opens, letting his hat slip from his fingers and fall to the ground. Carefully, he slowly makes his way thru the treehouse to Jake's and his bedroom.

"Not one of them. Not one of them ... remembered." He whispers to the darkness surrounding him. I thought they were my friends, my family... They don't need me. They only want to use me, the Great Hero of Ooo. He thinks as he stumbles thru the darkness toward his room. They don't care. Did they ever care? Or have I been fooling myself all this time?

Finally climbing one last ladder, he enters the cramped dark room. His messy bed, complete with its various random furs sits like the remains of some hulking beast. The only time he even comes into the place anymore was to sleep, which he has done far more than normal in the last few months. Of course, if anyone had been paying any amount of attention to him, perhaps they may have picked up on strange behavior. If they cared. Standing there, he can feel more tears fall down his face. Lightning lights up the space, highlighting the stark contract the various pieces of furniture. Most items are laden with random objects, but the lightening reflects off something on the top of his dresser that catches his eyes the most. Four picture frames line the top of the aged dresser. Four pictures that he once considered some of his most prized possessions.

"Did any of them ever really care?" Shuffling forward, he pulls his shirt over his head, yanking the long sleeves roughly down and off his arms. As the lightning comes again, it illuminates his scared and beaten body. It wasn't an odd sight to see him covered in bruises and healing injuries. His carefree attitude and wreck-less willingness for action over thought, often left him with reminders. As the light fades, if anyone else were to see him now, they would realize, this was not normal, even for him.

His skin, normally vibrate and glowing, was pale and held a unhealthily cast. The muscles that normally were hidden under a light layer of body fat, stood out in stark relief, each rib could be easily seen. Covering his pale flesh were dozens of fresh and healing bruises, old scars, but also fresh injuries. Considering how he often pushed aside psychical injuries, often ignoring them, there were more covering his body than normal. Across his chest, down his stomach, up his shoulder and down both arms. His arms held the highest number, dozen on each, criss-crossing over each other all the way down to his wrists. Some were old, healed and scared. Others, fresher, barely holding together in the earliest stage of healing.

Dropping the shirt, he crosses the small space to stand before his dresser, staring down on the frames arrayed across the top. Picking up the first picture, he stares into the glassy surface. The picture displayed a scene from years ago of him and Jake, outside this very treehouse. Jake looks like his normal self, but Finn is much younger. They both look happy, doing their signature fist-bump and hugging each other. Oh how times have changed. Jake, once so carefree and spontaneous, now has Lady and his kids to worry about. He's grown up as much as his hates to admit it and it's noticeable. Over the last year, he has spent less and less time with Finn and more time away, being a dad and husband.

"Jake, how could you, of all people, forget? I never forgot yours. Never." Anger washes over him, stirring forth rage from inside and he brings the photo frame down on the edge of the dresser, smashing it. Staring down at the shattered glass, he releases his grip and lets the damaged item fall to the floor. More silent tears fall from his red rimmed eyes as he glances at the other pictures. The subject of the next one was Princess Bubblegum.

She stood there, all prim and proper, with Jake and himself flanking her. Several of the candy people including Peppermint Butler are surrounding them, everybody looks happy and cheerful. But to him, it feels like another lie. Bonniebell, Bubblegum, PB... always thinking of her subjects and kingdom first. Always searching for answers in her science and technology. She called him her knight, her champion, her Hero. He once loved her, with every ounce of his life. He tried several time to explain his feelings toward her, but she pushed him away. "You're too young Finn, too childish." Those words wounded him worse than any sword or spell, they tore his heart and soul. It left a hidden wound that he tried to bury in his vault and move on. He wanted to push past the hurt, to prove to her that he wasn't a child, that he could be the man she needed.

That old wound was open, bleeding invisibly inside his aching heart. Again rage swelled up through him and he brought down her photo in the same fashion as Jake's, smashing the glass and wood.

"You lied PB. You lied to me, used me... you never cared." The frame fell to the floor to join the ruin of it's companion. "I wasn't one of your precious creations, so you didn't have to worry about me. You just needed a tool to tackle what you couldn't deal with." Looking back to the top, two more frames waited.

The next frame was a black metal one, a fancy scrolled affair that seemed fitting for the subject it contained. Marceline, the self claimed Vampire Queen. She was wearing her outdoor clothes; long gloves, umbrella and sunhat. Her infamous bass axe was strapped to her back. Her expression was odd, she was making a strange symbol with one hand with her forked tongue poking out between the raised digits. Marcy, who was both wild, playful and adventurous, and also frightening and dangerous. He tried to get close to her over the years, tried his damnest to be a friend, as much as she claimed she didn't want one.

Every time he got close to her, she would push back, often joking him to the point of blatantly insulting him. She considered everything a game, and perhaps to one who had lived as long as she did, it was. It felt like she never understood how much it hurt him when she joked him, mocked his actions or turned his emotions upside down. He once thought he could grow to love the vampire, but after years of her jokes and taunts, he couldn't stand the pain anymore. He knew she had her own messed up childhood, but why did she have to mess his up as well. Her photo suffered the same fate as the rage demanded a outlet, he brought it down, but the first strike failed to do more than twist one of the fancy edges. A second, harder hit shattered the glass, letting the metal frame warp. Unbeknownst to him, or perhaps he was beyond caring, the frame fought back, the twisted scrollwork slicing into his hand and drawing blood. Falling the floor, it bounces once and lands face down.

Reaching for the last picture, his hand hovers over the simple wooden frame. The subject of said frame was that of his ex, Flame Princess. She stood alone, shyly waving with that cute smirk she would get when she was around him. Remembering, he brought forth the memory of taking that picture with BMO. They were outside her new house Finn and her had built. The one on the sea cliffs... the one where he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss her. A frown forms on his face, as his memory drags back the pain of that horrid day. It was a precursor, he understood that now. Their fate was sealed, it was the beginning of the end. It was the day his heart broke, although he refused to accept the truth, even at the possible cost of his own life. Another day, not far away, she would return to the Flame Kingdom and choose to leave him. Yes, he had hurt her too, but he didn't fully understand why or how, he was young and stupid, foolish. He still loved her, in a way he never did over Bubblegum or Marcy. Her passion, her life... it was so much like his own, but at the same time, so opposite.

Although it was almost a year past, that hurt never went away. It couldn't, he didn't want it to leave. It was a reminder of his failure, of the fact that he wasn't perfect nor was he as good as he thought he was. As others thought her was. Rubbing his thumb across her face, he smears blood across the photo. Looking down at his hand, he can see the crimson fluid continuing to leak out from a fresh wound. Watching the blood, a sudden giddiness overtakes him. He rubs more blood across her photo, his red merging in with the red of her natural form. All he could see though the bloody haze was her twin coal black eyes, staring at him. Blaming him. A snarl works its way free from him as he raises the frame up and smashes it. The glass erupts out of the frame, bouncing off his bare torso. The photo slides loose and he rips it free, letting the remains of the frame to fall. Grabbing both edges, he rips the offends picture in half and tosses it aside.

Lightning flashes again, highlighting another object on his dresser, one that had been hidden behind the now destroyed frames. A long thin, bright silver scabbard lies there, alone in the now returning gloom. Reaching out, he gently picks up the fragile blade, slowly drawing it from the scabbard, the sharp edge of the blade seems to glow faintly. His only friend...

He had been dungeon crawling for weeks, trying desperately to keep himself from thinking about his screwed up life. He had stumbled on the opening of some long forgotten hole and took the chance that it was the very distraction he was seeking. It was, but it was a strange. It was trapped, like all good dungeons should be, but half the traps where already disarmed. It wasn't until he was deep within did he start to find the bones, remains of whoever had come before him. Then he found the traps. The place was crazy deadly and gave him the chance to lose himself. He was in his element.

It was after he emerged and was sitting outside in the fading daylight, that he took the time to sort through his haul. Most of it was damaged, rusty or just out right broken. It was a disappointing collection of random pieces, all except the silver dagger. That had been at the very bottom of the dungeon, the only decent item in the place. Picking up the fragile blade, it suddenly occurred to him that FP would love it. Sliding the blade free from its scabbard, he had sat there, absently playing with it. Even now, he wasn't sure what had happened, had he fumbled it or had it twisted in his grasp, but it slipped free from his fingers.

Falling, he reached for it and missed, letting it lightly graze his forearm. To his surprise, a razor thin line appeared across his flesh. It hadn't hurt, at least until the blood started flowing. In shock he sat there, watching the blood run down his arm and drip onto his pants. The pain in his arm was strange, it hurt, but not in a bad way. For some reason, it felt good, almost euphoric. Liberating even. He leaned down, picked up the fragile blade, caught it's edge in the setting sunlight. As the blade reflected the reddish light into his eyes, he found himself bringing the blade down against his arm again, making a second deeper gash. More blood welled up and again, the pain came, but also that sense of calmness. It put the hurt of his memories into the vault of his mind, slamming the door shut for the first time in months. Releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding, he lent back on the ground, calm and relaxed. Slowly, he raised the silver dagger up to his view, a smile across his lips. Whatever it was, it had become his new friend.

Over the next few months, whenever he felt the memories creep from his vault, he took the blade and drove them back into the darkness. To hide what he was doing, he started wearing his long sleeve shirts, even though summers in Ooo where killer hot at times. He was worried someone might find out, might even notice his change of attire, but nobody said anything. Never once had any of them asked. Sadly, that did nothing to help improve his ever increasing negative moods. Time passed, the blade became his only friend as those around him grew ever distant and more occupied about their lives over his.

With little thought Finn brought the tip of the thin blade down against the flesh of his stomach. Pulling suddenly, a thin line appeared. At first no blood came, so he placed the edge slightly high, pressing harder and repeated the action. With the second line drawn, the blood finally came, weeping like red tears down his skin.
The blessed pain came with the blood, the calmness that he had come to rely on ebbed into his soul. The rage was still there, burning inside like a ember. It wasn't enough, the hurt was still there. The ache, the betrayal, the sorrow. Just make it stop, make it stop! Again and again, the silver blade dances across his pale skin, drawing a roadmap of pain. Filling up the available space on his stomach, he turns his fury against his arms, first covering one then the other in weeping wounds. Blood falls around him like rain, splattering the floor, covering the remains of the pictures he so recently destroyed. Crimson drops coat the smiling faces of those he once called his friends, his family, masking their happiness with his pain.

"None of you, NOT ONE GLOBBING DAMN ONE OF YOU REMEMBERED!" He screams, tears and blood flowing freely from him. "DO I MEAN SO LITTLE TO ANY OF YOU!" A sob escapes him as he drops to his knees. Landing roughly, he throws back his head and howls. The sounds that issue forth from his mouth was soul-shattering in its rawness. Thunder rips through the treehouse, it's matching lightning lights up the miserable figure. For several brief seconds, his screams fight the peals of thunder , fighting to drown out the might roar of mother nature. Gradually his voice gives out, his throat torn raw by the force of his venting. His vision dims as he slumps forward onto his hands, the thin blade still tightly gripped in one blood coated hand.

"None ... of... you" he croaks faintly, coughing violently as his throat spasms. His eyes, bloodshot and swollen stare blankly ahead, seeing nothing. Lifting his head, he turns and starts to crawl toward the ladder. Even his last friend couldn't fix what was wrong with him, what was broken inside. The ache was still there, the rage and anger. All he can think of is to hide, to find the hardest, loneliest place in the house. To lie down. To give up and give in to the darkness inside.

Chapter Text

((** these are translated from Korean - didn't want to try and double translate things & make reading harder))

Morning dawns, rainy and gloomy, as Jake rolls off Lady Rainicorn. Her bed was big, but it was easier to sleep in her coils than make space for both of them. Scratching himself, wondering what time it was, he makes his way to the ladder leading down to Lady's kitchen, Behind him, Lady wakes up and sleepily mumbles to him.

**Jake, where are you going?** She yawns, trying to force herself more awake.

"Breakfast, want some?" He answers, starting down the ladder. He stops, waiting for her answer, but she has fallen back to sleep. He smiles and continues downstairs. Outside the storm has lessened from last night, but a peal of thunder rumbles in the distance. Jake looks around, digging around various cupboards until he has found what he needs to make breakfast.

Turning toward the fridge, frying pan in hand, he stops in his tracks as a flash of lightning lights up the room. A bright shaft of light falls across the calendar hanging on the wall. He stares at it, now back in its darkness, thinking. All yesterday, something bugged him while he helped Lady with the kids. It kept bothering him, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't figure out what was causing this feeling of distress. It was like he had forgotten something, something real important. He shrugs, taking a step toward the stove.

Lightning flashes again, the calendar is illuminated, the date was still set on yesterday. The large number caught his eye... something about the date... date...the date...

Suddenly Jake drops the frying pan he was holding as his mouth drops open. "OH MY GLOB!" He screams, dashing off toward his things. Lady, hearing him scream, snaps awake. Groggily peering over the loft edge at Jake, she watches him rummage through his bag.

**Jake, what's wrong?** She asks, trying to stifle another yawn.

"Oh my Glob, oh my Glob! I forgot, how the heck did I forget!" He yells, finally standing up with his phone. He looks up at Lady, she can see he's upset. She flies down to him, waiting for him to explain. He fiddles with his phone, hitting various buttons and finally finds Finn's number.

**Forget? What did you forget?** Jake looks up from the phone, worry is clearly written across is yellow face.

"FINN'S BIRTHDAY!" He shouts, hitting the send button on the phone. The news snaps Lady fully awake. Jake had memory problems, but to forget something like this was not like him. She coils up, watching him fidget, concerned for both Jake and his brother, Finn.

Jake paces in a tight circle, muttering under his breath. The phone was ringing, but so far no answer came. Finn wasn't picking up his phone. "GLOB IT!" He shouts, hangs up and tosses the phone aside. "ARGH!" He dives back into his bag, rooting around again. How in Glob's name did I forget something this important. Damn it Jake, you have GOT to do something about your memory issues. I mean, really man, forgetting Finn's birthday is inexcusable>, he curses to himself.

Suddenly BMO pops up, glaring up into Jakes face.

"Jake, why are you yelling? I was sleeping." Jake blinks at the little robot, surprised she was in his bag.

"I gribbed up bad, BMO. I totally forgot Finn's birthday!" The little robot's screen flashes to a surprised emoticon. "I need my Special Occasion phone."

"Ok, hang on, I will get it." she says, diving back into his bag. Jake watches the bag move and wiggle as BMO crawls around looking for his SO phone. After a few seconds later she pops up, triumphantly holding the phone over her head. Jake snatches it from her little hands and quickly scans through the speed-dial.

"Thanks BMO, you're a life saver." He turns away as the little robot crosses her arms, a big smile across her screen. Finally he sees Finn's SO number and dials it.

The Special Occasion phone is a special phone they only use to call their closest friends. It was supposed to be used for emergencies or special occasions, but since Finn didn't answer his normal one, Jake took the chance he would answer this one. The phone rings, twice, three times, four and more. No answer. Oh Glob, Finn where are you buddy? This isn't good, not good at all.

Jake stares up into Lady's worried face. After the tenth ring, Jake hangs up.

"Why won't he answer?" He whines, worried to the point his stomach feels sick. Lady thinks quickly, they could leave now to look for him, but they had no idea where Finn was.

**What about calling Princess Bubblegum or Marceline, perhaps they know why Finn isn't answering.** She offers.

"Great idea Lady!" Jake scrolls down the list and the next name on the list is Marceline. He may not like the Vampire Queen, but Finn trusted her. He stabs the button and dials her phone.

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In the candy Kingdom, Marceline and PB where standing in one of the Princess's labs, in front of a bank of screens and tables with various scientific equipment laying around. PB, dressed in a white lab coat was bent over a microscope with a notepad in her hands, scribbling down hasty notes while her eye was glued to the scope.

Marceline on the other hand was lazily floating around behind PB, upside down. She also held a note book, but she was doodling little pictures, mainly of various musical instruments that she might like to make from weapons. She glances over at PB, who she had come to borrow some glue to fix one of her instruments. When she arrived she found the other woman engrossed in her studies. While she wanted to get back and fix her stuff, she knew interrupting PB during her "science time" wasn't the best idea if she wanted something from her other than a good fight. She sighs, looking up at the double sword lead guitar she had sketched up. There are times PB gets WAY too caught up in her hobby. She chuckles softly to herself and jumps as her phone rings from her back pocket, dropping her note book.

As she struggles to remove it from the tight pocket, PB glares up from her scope at her, clearly annoyed at the distraction. Huffing to herself, she goes back to her microscope. Marceline flips it open and notices the number reads JAKE SOP. She hits the accept button, floating upright, wondering what would have Jake using that number to call her.

"Hey Jake, s'up dog?"

"Oh thank Glob you answered!" Jake screams down the line at her. She holds the phone away from her ear and stares at it. Wow, he was upset something fierce. PB, sits up from her scope, putting down her notepad. Jake had screamed loud enough for her to hear.

"Jake, you ok?" She cautiously asks, floating down to stand on the ground as PB gets up to join her. She tips the phone to the side and hits the speaker button.

"Have you seen Finn? He's not answering his phones!" Jake hastily shouts. Marcy looks at PB who also has a look of confusion on her face. Finn not answering his phones is NOT a good sign of things, especially if he wasn't answering his SO phone.

"No, Jake I haven't. Why? Where are you? What happened?" She tries to ask the dog. On the other end of the line Jake starts whining, Lady pats his shoulder trying to calm him down.

"I don't know Marceline. I'm at Lady's place, but I gribbed up bad." He whimpers and moans, "I forgot Finn's birthday was yesterday!" He finally shouts. Marcy and PB glance at each other in shock. Finn's birthday PB mouths at Marcy. She brings her hands up to her mouth, looking pale. Marcy reaches out and grabs PB's arm, steadying her. What the heck is going on here, she wonders.

"Did you see Finn, PB?" She asks, loud enough that Jake and Lady can hear. PB swallows, nodding yes as she opens her mouth to speak. She coughs suddenly, then starts again.

"Yes, he came by yesterday morning, but I was so busy, I sent him away. I honestly forgot until just now." Marcy looks at PB, angrily but then sighs. She can't get angry at PB because she's guilty of the same thing.

"Damn, I forgot too." She admits. How downright pathetic of me, to forget something as important as Finn's b-day. Jake starts whining louder and drops the phone, running in circles. Lady picks up the phone.

**Can one of you go to the treehouse and check if he's there?** She asks as Jake sits down, rocking back and forth, whimpering.

"Sure thing Lady," Marcy replies, already starting to float. "Are you and Jake gonna come here?"

**Yes, we'll head to the Candy Kingdom as soon as I can calm Jake down. Please, call if you find out anything.**

"No problem Lady. Hold on Jake, Finn is fine." Marcy says, closing the phone and glancing over to PB. She had sat down on her lab stool, still looking shocked and pale. Marcy floats over to her, grabbing her shoulder to give her a slight shake.

"PB, you ok? Don't go all Jake on me girl." PB blinks, shaking herself. Then she stands up, smooths her lab coat and nods. PB may be many things, but rarely did she get emotionally distraught over things, or at least for any amount of time.

"You can get to their treehouse the fastest, Marcy. If you need anything, call. I'll check around the Kingdom to see if anyone has seen him." Marcy nods and flies off, winding her way out of the castle into the storm outside. She didn't like flying through rain, but this was an emergency. Finn would not answer Jake's calls, not if he could. She flew higher, sighting herself in the right direction and takes off toward their treehouse.

Damn it, how could I forget the kid's birthday. I mean, he's always around, right? Well... she thought to herself, he actually hasn't been around allot lately. I mean, yes, I've been dealing with Simon more than normal, but usually Finn's by once a week. That's odd. She speeds up, the rain now becoming slightly painful. In fact she can't remember the last time she hung out with him... maybe 3 weeks ago, if that. He seemed off that day, their typical jam session wasn't as lively as it normally was. He seemed distracted, almost moody, totally not like his normal bubbly self. Something in the back of her mind worries her, his behavior was off but at the same time, strangely familiar to her.

"Damn it, Finn. You better be alright, you little turd." She sped up some more, that nagging voice in her brain was growing louder and she, for one of the few times in her life, was getting afraid.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure?" The question was simple, but the answer was one the Flame Guard knew the fiery girl before him would not want to hear. The group of five Guards managed to keep still, all kneeling before the throne where their ruler sat. The girl, dressed in a simple dress, did not look capable of much, but everyone within the kingdom knew the power hidden behind that pretty face. The Fire Princess was unstable at times, disappointing her could be bad for anyone's long term health. Realizing he couldn’t delay things further, the lead Guard speaks up.

"Yes, your Highness, we checked every store, warehouse, stock pile, back alley market and armory within the Fire Kingdom. Even the hidden black market was raided. The blade is nowhere to be found." One couldn't tell from looking at her, but the Flame Princess wasn't happy. Her face was blank, her black eyes did not relay the emotions she was struggling to contain. These Guards weren't the real source of her frustrations, they did not deserve any part of her wrath. They performed as expected, it wasn’t their fault the item in question was not where it should have been.

Glancing up, she stares up into the large glass jar suspending over her head. Inside was the familiar figure of her father, the former Flame King. He was idly looking at his hands, trying to look as if he hadn’t been paying attention to the events below.

"Did you move it, Father?" Frowning, she glowers up at him. Sighing, he holds out his hand, shrugging. When she didn’t address him again, he spared a look down to find her still glaring up at him. His daughter was young, but she wasn’t stupid.

"Honey, if I wanted that thing out in the open, I would have given it to you when you were younger." The Flame King smiles wickedly. That was a lie, both of them knew. He had wanted to get rid of her when she was young, to make sure she couldn’t do exactly what she has done, overthrown him. I wonder, did I cause this locking her away or was it already written that she would and there was nothing I could do to prevent it? The thought chilled him, the broad implications of this thought did nothing to ease his mind.

"I wouldn't be in this predicament if I had, but of course, there would be a chance, none of us would be here.” The frown on his daughter’s face deepened, whatever she thought about this item, it was nothing compared to the reality of the danger confronting them all. “Trust me, my daughter, that thing makes Evil afraid."

Frowning, she keeps her gaze locked to his father’s for a few more seconds. As wilily as her father could be, it looks like he was telling the truth for once. Shaking her head, her eyes fall back to the kneeling forms of her guards. Why the heck was it even still around? She waves signaling the guards to rise.

"Keep looking, double check everything and everywhere. It is of utmost importance this item be found. The longer it remains missing, the more danger it presents." Rising, the Guards nod, saluting her, then turn face, marching out of the throne room. Although none of them show it, they all praise Gob, thankful to be spared their queen’s wrath.

Watching the retreating backs of her guards, Flame Princess leans back against the stiff back of her throne. These nasty outcome did nothing to ease her fears, not just for her people, but herself and perhaps, even Ooo itself.

Since she took charge of the Kingdom, she had tried to bring everything back into a state of order, to repair the damage her father had done to his people. The Fire Kingdom was known for its chaos, even before her father had made things so much worse. There were a lot of things that where dangerous to her people, she took it as her responsibility to do what she could to protect them. It was a colossal task, but if she didn’t tackle it, then who would?

Various monsters had hunted down and destroyed. Certain areas were cleaned up, making them safe for the Fire citizen to once again venture beyond the borders of their cities. Others had been sealed, preventing innocents from wandering into a place where harm would occur, no matter the precautions taken. It was during the reorganization of the castle, that she found a list of artifacts that the Fire Kingdom had acquired over the centuries. As she read through the list, she became alarmed at how many were stored away or even worse, left out in the open. Some of these items could destroy hundreds of people before anyone could realize what was happening. She had sent out all the Guards to gather all of them, either to confirm their location, confirm their destruction or sealed away. It took some time, but most of the items on the list were accounted. One item was left, but as she would later learn, it was far more dangerous than all of the items, combined. The Whispering Blade.

While it was being searched for, she had found stories relating to the weapon. Many spoke of horrible deeds committed by the welders of the blade. Somehow the blade influenced its welders, both Good and Evil, whispering lies and stories, slowly driving them insane. Some of the acts committed where do vile, that Evil beings considered the weapon accursed. Out of all the tales, one part was similar among all of them; the welder of the blade meet a nasty end, often a victim of the weapon, directly or indirectly. No welder of the blade lived to pass it on. Some welders tried to hide the blade, but it would fail to stay hidden for long. How her Grandfather both found out about the weapon and then saw the danger it presented. He realized what it was and managed to secure it away without falling under its influence.

"Father, why didn't Grandfather destroy it instead of hiding it away?" This time she didn’t bother to look at her father. Staring off, she let the facts she knew about the missing item circle through her head, trying to put everything together. Her father was silent for several minutes, then begrudgingly answers his daughter.

"I don't know.” She glimpses over her shoulder. “Yes, I know you don’t trust me Daughter, but I do not know. He only told me that it was a useful tool, but that even Evil has it's weakness and it was one. That's why he hid it in a dungeon.” He looks up into the shadowed cloaked rocky ceiling. He had spent days asking about the weapon before his father had simply knocked sense into him.

“There once was a map, it had the exact location of the dungeon, but I have no idea where it may be." Flame Princess sat bolt upright.

"A dungeon? A map!" He looks down at her, wondering what she would do with that tid-bit of information. He really should keep his mouth shut, it seems determined to get him into trouble.

"Oh yes, Father told me had one, but I was never able to find it. After all this time, it is possible it no longer exists."

Oh no, she thinks, not a dungeon. Couldn't it have been anywhere else but a dungeon? This is really, REALLY not good. Grabbing her head, she leans forward against her knees. She could handle it missing, but to find out it was missing from a dungeon, that was specifically hidden. Fate was just being cruel, unnaturally and horrifyingly cruel.

It was then Cinnamon Bun broke her mood, running into the throne room. Looking up, she spies the blue tinted pastry, who was holding a tube in his hands.

"Princess, Princess, I think this might be helpful." His face, tinted blue from the Fire shield spell, was covered in dusting of grey. Lighter than soot, powdery. Coming to a stop before her, he tips the tube over, spilling the contents on the ground. A rolled slip of paper falls free, partially unrolling when it lands. Picking up the paper, he turns it around to she can see the surface. It was a picture, more specifically, a map. Torn, moldy, and slightly singed, it was still readable. On its aged surface, there were many symbols. Some were crossed out, random words such as “gone” or “burnt” beside them. Others where circled, different words with these, “stone”, “blade” or even “Key”.

“Where did you find this CB?” Leaning forward, she reaches out, stopping just before touching the paper. Tracing a path, she began to recognize landmarks, even a few cities. This map was of the Fire Kingdom and the surrounding lands. Eyes roving, her gaze lands on some writing at the bottom right-hand corner. There in the flowing script of her Grandfather, was his name.

”In the room you found. I went back and turned it over for you.” He had that smile of his face, happy that he was able to provide something she wanted. Leave it to him to do what she hadn’t done, she had gone through the room, but apparently a pathetic job of it. Once again, CB proved to her his worth.

“Thank you CB, this will help a lot. Please take it to the Flame Guard, have them compare it to the list and see if they can get any clues from it.” CB turns to obey, leaving the old tube on the ground. Suddenly she leaps out of her throne, jumping down to catch his arm.

"Wait, tell them that if has the location of the missing item, they are to go retrieve it, but NOT to TOUCH it. If they find it, have some stay to guard while the others to return to get me.” CB looks confused, not an uncommon expression to find on his doughy face.

“Don’t touch it?” She nods, letting her grip loosen.

“I believe it is cursed. It effects those who touch it, thus they cannot touch it. We need to secure it before it falls into the wrong hands." CB stares at her for a second, before asking the obvious question.

"Who's hands would it be bad for, Princess?"

"Anyone's, everyone’s." She answers, turning back to the throne. He head was beginning to hurt, she needed to get some rest. All of this was weighing on her, adding unneeded worry on top of everything else she had to handle inside the kingdom. Flopping down, she rubs her temple.

"ANYONE who touches the Whispering Blade, dies." CB swallows, nods and runs off.

FP holds her head in her hands, her heart was hammering in her chest. Why her Grandfather had let something like that continue to exist, she'll could never understand. Yes, the Flame Kingdom has been known as Evil, but there are circumstances that override all thoughts of Good and Evil. If this item was as deadly as the tale, it should have been destroyed a long time ago.

She hated to admit it, but she was afraid. Not necessarily of the artifact itself, but the damage it could cause to others. Or in this case, one rather specific person she knew who had a knack for finding lost evil artifacts. Shuddering, an icy tendril of fear creeps into her fiery heart. She knew of one person in all of Ooo that loved finding "lost" dungeons, he seemed drawn to them like a moth to a flame. Not only that, but he loved challenging himself by tackling the danger they often held. Did it for fun.

For all the hurt he caused her, she did not hate him. In a small way, she didn’t even fault him for what he did. She wasn’t the easiest person to deal with, but her sudden freedom and inexperience with just about everything didn’t help matters. Both of them could have done things differently, but the past is just that, the past. Some small part of her still held the faintest glimmer of love toward the bay, but things could not be. They were like the Sun and the Moon. Complementing each other, but forever circling, total polar opposites.

"Oh Finn, I hope to Glob you didn't find this place." If the guards didn't locate this weapon soon, she was going to have ask for help. To her, she couldn’t think which was worse; fearing an ancient evil was free in the land, or to contact the one person she loathed the most. Most people would scoff if they knew the reason behind her reluctance, but it was the truth. As much as she found the idea distasteful, she knew that she had to warn others of its existence. If it couldn’t be found, the whole land of Ooo may be in danger.

Chapter Text

Darkness. Pain. Cold.

None of them could take the time to remember... none of them. Why?

They don't want me (y...o...u...), they only use me (y...o...u...), they... forgot me... (y...o...u...)

Why?

Cracking open his eyes, Finn stares numbly into gloom surrounding him. His sight was hazy, foggy, his eyes couldn't focus. Where am I, how did I get here? His reply is a weak throbbing poke from inside his head. Mouth dry, he tries to swallow, only to gag and retch. His chest burns, his lungs want to cough, but something keeps him from giving into the drive. Not only would it stir up the pain in his head, but would do nothing to help his throat. His throat burns, his mouth full of a salty copper taste he knew was blood. It felt as if someone had forced him to eat glass or maybe sand.

Unwilling to move, he kept still, hoping more clues to his predicament would present themselves. First thing he recognized was the ground or floor. He was lying down on something hard, cold and flat. The hairs on his arms rose as a chill breeze flowed over him, bringing with it the tell-tale scent of impending rain. It was possible he was outside, but how? Confusion mixed with a spike of fear starts to wash through him. Outside in a rainstorm was bad. As much as he found lying still pleasant, he knew something was wrong. Slowly, he tries to move, twitching slightly, then groaning as pain flares within, warning him against trying again.

He was numb, but in pain, horrible pain. Not only his mouth and throat, but head and in fact, his whole body. It felt like every inch of his skin was on fire, but he was freezing. It kind of felt like his whole body had fallen asleep and was now waking up, that strange pins and needle tingling that promised pain was coming. His memory was fuzzy, like his sight. What did I do? Where is everyone, am I alone? Staring into the darkness before him, he realizes that he was utterly alone. A creak of wood, the whistle of the wind, there was no other sound, minus his shallow breathing. The silence sat like a psychical weight on his heart, pressing down in an attempt to stop its movements. Alone, in more ways than one. Eyes drifting shut, he can only listen to his heartbeat, the soft thump that proved he was still alive.

A memory drifts across his dazed mind, a flash of silver, a flare of pain, bright red rain. Rage that had boiled over, spent in a mindless drive to end the pain. It had happened before, but never with such violence, so much desire to end the endless suffering. He knew what he had done, he knew why. Sad part, was he failed. His one last friend had failed him, leaving him alone. Just like they did.

No one came looking? They truly don't care, no one cares. I’m just another broken toy they have outgrown, ready to be cast away with the trash.

Cold tendrils sink into his hand, causing the muscles to twitch. Something was in his hand, smooth and cool against his skin. Struggling, he forces his eyes to open, cracking enough to glimpse toward his hand. There, grasped in his pale hand, lay a long silver knife, the thin blade darkened by dried blood. Unbidden, a faint smile graces his cracked lips. My friend, at least you have not left me. Trying once more to move, he stares at his hand, willing his weak flesh to obey. His fingers twitch, closing around the hilt, but nothing else. A stab of pain spikes in his skull as a wave of grey washes across his vision. As close as his friend was, he was unable to bring it any closer. What little strength he had was spent, his body too weak. The grey deepens, fading into spots of black. If he any tears left, he would have shed them in sorrow.

Even this, I can’t do right.

Blue eyes slip shut again as his mind finally drifts away.

Marceline flew faster than she realized, arriving at the massive treehouse in record time. The distance between the tree and the castle wasn’t large, but the weather made the trip miserable. The rain had started shortly after she left, quickly soaking through her clothes. Once wet, her flight chilled the water considerably. She wasn’t dressed heavily, only a pair of jeans and shirt, she hadn’t even bothered to grab her leather coat before she left, more worried about getting there than the impending storm.

As much as the rain was a bother, her overall discomfort was minor. Being undead did offer some advantages, namely the cold didn't bother her like it did to the living. Landing softly in front of the main door, she wipes her damp hair out of her eyes, reaching for the door knob. Even if it was locked, she knew she could get in via other methods, but as her fingers brush the knob, the door swings gently open.

Not a good sign. She thinks, dropping into a crouch. Nudging the door harder, it finishes swinging open, showing the room beyond. A general sense of unease had been building within her during the trip. Jake’s freak-out bothered her more than she cared to dwell over, he had a tenacity of over-reacting, but something wasn’t right, it set her nerves on edge. Plus, now finding the front door standing open did nothing to calm her discomfort. The faint light from outside gives her enough illumination to see into the darkened room. Piles of treasure line the walls, random bits of items poking from the golden mound. Everything looked in place but for one thing. Sitting in the middle of the floor was a green object, lying in a puddle. Tip toeing into the room, she kneels down beside object, Finn's now soggy backpack. It was spilt open, a faint red light was flashing from within. Carefully digging thru the bag, she pulls out Finn's phone. A small red light was flashing on it, indicating it had a missed call.

This is getting worse and worse, why would Finn leave his backpack down here. Hell, why did he leave the door open? She tucks the phone in her free pocket, floating up. The old semi-broken ladder was still in its place, as well as the rusty suit of armor. Slowly, listening with every inch, she moves into the house, namely the main living room. Floating up into the space, she waits, taking in the silence. It helps that she once lived in this place and knew the layout, but the atmosphere of the place was different.

Realizing there was no one in the room, she softly lands. The place looked grungier than she remembered, like the place hadn't been cleaned or even lived in for some time. Trash, clothes, papers and general stuff littered the place, a normal state for Finn's home, something about it made her uneasiness grow. Stepping forward, she stops as her foot kicks something soft. Leaning over she picks up a cloth, almost dropping it as the shock of recognition hits her. It was a familiar white hat, Finn' hat, the one she rarely ever saw off him. Holding it in both hands, she scans the rest of the area.

Something else catches her eye in the dim lighting, a sheet of paper. It had fallen underneath the table, so she had crawl under to grab it. Standing back up, smacking the dust off her jeans, she spots black marks, words. It was a note. Reading quickly, she can mostly make out the words, the messy handwriting recognizable as Jake’s. It wasn’t earth shattering, just a quick letter to let Finn know where they were. But why under the table?

Standing there, one hand holding the note, the other gripping Finn's hat so tightly her knuckles crack loudly in the silence, she realizes the longer she stood there, the worse that feeling became. Oppressive, but more than that, almost aggressive, like something didn’t want her there. That wasn’t right, this place was homey, and it had that warm fuzzy feeling like a cup of coco on a chilly night. Now, it felt like something was lurking in the shadows, waiting for her to turn her back. There was something horribly wrong here. Finn wouldn't just leave his things lying around like this, not his backpack, especially not his hat. Taking a risk at alerting anyone who might be hiding, she calls out.

"Finn? Hey bud, you here? Finn!" Her voice echoes in the silence, but nothing replies. Silence, except for that nagging voice in her skull. It’s screaming, raising such a ruckus, for a second she almost believes that it's a real sound. Rubbing her arms, realizing that she's shivering, but not from the cold. Tucking Finn's hat into the waistband of her jeans, she lets the note drift back down to the floor, once again taking up residence under the table. It wasn’t often she felt fear, being a thousand year old vampire makes her pretty immune. So what was making her undead heart pound in her chest? Why was she afraid, and more importantly, what was making her? Steading herself, she drifts over to the ladder hole leading deeper into the house.

Flame Princess stood there, hands held behind her back, watching Finn holding BMO. "Finn, what are doing?"

"I'm trying to get a picture of you silly, I have one of all of my friends." She smiles, shyly waving at him as BMO's flash goes off. BMO hums and a square of white paper ejects from the front of the little robot. Finn grabs it, watching as the face of Flame Princesses slowly appears. He smiles, rubbing his thumb across her face, smearing a red streak across the image. He stares at the photo, drawing it near his face, then looks at his thumb. He's bleeding.

"What..." He's holding the picture, now framed, the glass shattered and smeared with blood. "No.” He tosses it away, the sound of it striking the ground loud enough to shake the earth.

“No... NO!” He spins in the darkness, the ground surrounding him was covered in broken glass, all of it covered in blood. Directly at his feet was a picture, the smiling face of Jake half obstructed under a stripe of red. This couldn’t be happening to him, these pictures, they were his friends. Why are they broken, why is there blood everywhere?

“Finn… Finn…” The words emerge from the darkness, echoing around him. He took a step forward, only to have pain shot up his leg as the glass tore into his now bare feet.

“Finn… where are you…” His mouth was open, but his voice was stuck, like the glass in his foot. Looking up, he saw something shine through the darkness. It moved fast, swinging out at him, making him jump backwards and loose his footing. Bracing himself to land on the glass strewn floor, he is shocked to find himself falling further. Squinting his eyes shut, he refuses to look around.

"Finn!" The words cut thru his mind like a knife, pulling him from the darkness in which he was falling. Eyes snap open, breath catching in his chest, his body jerking to full conscience. Did I hear something, someone? He starts shivering as fear grips him, overriding the pain wracking his battered body.

What if someone was here? Would they find me? Would they stop me? No, no… no…

Although weakened, the sudden burst of adrenalin brought by fear gives him strength. Pulling up his arm, he can feeling the skin and hair pull as if they were caught in something. Tugging harder, his arm suddenly flies free. Raising the limb, he can see the outline of dried blood along the length. How long he had lain there, so that his blood dried enough to glue his skin to the floor? It was the sudden onset of fresh pain that made him realize, the abrupt movement cost more than some arm hair. Groaning softly, he can feel a multitude of wounds that had once sealed, tear open. Within seconds, there was the slight tickling sensation of fresh blood seeping out. Gently lowering his arm, he pulls his hand toward his chest. Locked within the pale digits, the thin silver blade seems to glow a faint red in the darkness.

"No…" The word was harsh, his throat still damaged, but audible. He would not let anyone stop, it was too late for whatever pathetic attempt they might force on him. He never went anywhere, they chose to abandon him, to leave him alone. So alone he would be.

Marceline stood in the hall, through the darkness, listening to the faint sounds the treehouse made as the wind whipped up outside. A low rumble announces the impending storm was near, it wouldn’t be long before the weather would get nasty. It occurred to her, if Finn was home, perhaps he was crashed in his room. The kid had a knack for pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. More than once could she remember basically dragging him home, only to watch him curl up on the floor, snoring within seconds. If luck was on her side, he would be passed out cold, which in turn would explain why his stuff was lying around and his lack of answering the phone. A few more turns brought her to the ladder leading up to his room. At the bottom, she floated to a stop. Looking up into the dark hole, that strange pang of fear made her want to leave, to escape the horrible feeling that permeated the whole place. I should go, come back in the morning…Wait? Why the hell am I thinking about leaving? Finn could be in danger and here I sit, afraid to go into his bedroom? Shaking herself, she floats up into the darkness.

Emerging from the ladder well into Finn and Jake's bedroom, her breath caught in her throat as she drops out of the air. Landing on her feet, she stands there stunned, eye wide with shock over the scene that splayed out before her. Finn’s room was messy on a clean day, what she was looking at was far beyond normal. Glass, wood and metal litter the floor by Finn's bed. The alarming part was what was covering the floor and everything on it, blood. A lot of blood, dark red and drying.

It was overpowering to Marceline, strong enough to make her heart thunder in her chest. The smell was intoxicating, but at the same time, sickening. It was old blood, split hours ago and drying. Worse, she knew the blood was Finn's. Shaking, the fear from before grew. It was tangible, coiling in her guts like a snake thrashing to escape.

"No..." She hisses, struggling to control her breathing, to stop so she couldn’t smell. She couldn’t lose control now, not if she wanted to help him. If all the blood came from him, he would be in bad shape. She had to help him, to find him and hope that she wasn't too late.

"No, you can’t lose it. Finn needs you." It takes her several minutes till her shaking stops, till the smell didn’t make her mouth water. While she stood there, an idea whispers through her mind. It wasn’t something she wanted to believe, in fact she refused to think further on the topic. Looking down, the mess before her was still there but its effect on her wasn't as strong. Slowly scanning the area, she takes in everything. At first glance, the destruction looked widespread, but after taking time to really look, she saw it was localized to the area beside Finn’s bed.

Carefully stepping through the mess, avoiding the glass and larger puddles, she reaches an object that caught her eye, a small square of white. Several of them are lying on the floor, all of them splattered with blood. Reaching down, she picks up the closest one, instantly realizing what she was holding. Staring up at her was a picture of her own face, a photo. It took her a few, but she could remember when this was taken; several years ago shortly after she first met Finn and Jake. Looking back to the mess, she spies other similar squares. Snatching them up, she can recognize every one of them.

A picture of Finn and Jake, being their typical dorky selves. There was PB, surrounded by candy people. The last was a torn picture of FP, the smiling face torn in half. These where all of Finn's friendship photos, some of his most prized possessions. The pile of rubble she stood in was their remains, destroyed and cast aside like trash.

"Who would have done this? Why?" She whispers, her voice growing harsh. Anger boiled up inside her, brushing away the fear from before. Her eyes darken, fangs sharpen, protruding past her lips. Whoever destroyed these pictures, they did so before the blood was split. All the photos have small smears or drops covering them. Did Finn walk in on someone damaging the frames? Was there a fight? Looking around here, the area didn’t like anyone had fought here, other than the frames and blood, the place looked like it always did.

Turning to leave, she stops as she looks at the wall by the ladder. There was a bloody hand print on the wall, smeared as if someone had braced themselves against the wall. Twisting back around, she studies the floor, ignoring the rubble, instead focusing on the blood, or rather the way it was spread out. Staring, her mind was struggling to piece it all together.

If Finn had been attacked, there should be more blood. Not more as in volume, more as in where is it spread. His bed, even with its messy furs, was free of the red. The wall behind the dresser as well. All the blood was split in one place, directly in front of the dresser, specifically over the destroyed photos. Her mind offered up its conclusion, which she immediately shoved aside. There had to be another explanation, because it wasn’t making any sense to her. More than before she had to find Finn.

The photos drop from hands, landing back in the mess on the floor. If this was Finn’s blood, she could track him by it. As much as it sickens her, she inhales deeply, bringing in the scent. Walking toward the ladder, she jumps down, landing on the floor below with a loud thump. In the darkness, her red eyes glow faintly as she sniffs the air. Whipping round, she glares into the darkness.  Time to figure out what is going on.

Pain, agonizing, all-encompassing pain was all he could process. His breath felt like it was being torn from him, his heart beat like a frightened beast caged by his ribs. Slowly he pulls the blade closer, resting it so the pommel stone was pressed into his chest, the blade angled straight out. It would be over soon, his friend would help end his pain, his suffering and torment. He would have his peace.

It was peace that he wanted more than anything. He was tired of being the hero. Tired of being used, of being the last one to be considered, the only one not wanted, uncared for, unloved.

Drawing the deepest breath he could and holding it, he turns his hand, placing the sharp point of the blade against the hallow of his throat. It wouldn't take much pressure, one last burst of his waning strength and peace would be his. Closing his eyes, he tries to press the blade up, his last breath hissing thru cracked lips as the metal pierces.

"FINN!" The cry froze him, as if a band of steel clamped down on his arm. A bead of red forms near the tip of the blade, slowly sliding down. All of his strength evaporated at the sound of his name.

Eyes still sealed shut, he pushes up again, hoping it wasn't real. No, go away. Leave me be.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - Lost and Don't Want To Be Found

Marceline flew past rooms in the house, her nose helping point out the direction. Even without her sense of smell, she would have been able to follow the trail. The deeper she got into the house, the more evidence was left. Small droplets of blood litter the floors, here a smeared hand print against the wall, there a small table knocked over into the hallway. She rushes thru the mess, not bothering to check the rooms she passes.

Within a few minutes, she lands before a heavy door, slightly cracked open. Water has pooled on the floor, signaling that it's been open overnight during the storm. She knows this door, it leads to a secluded section of the treehouse, one of the uppermost areas of the whole place. Her anger was still raging and she grabs the door, throwing it open hard enough to crack one of the hinges. Outside, the skies were thick with storm clouds.. Furious, she walks out onto an open air bridge.

It was raining again, nature washing away any signs of the blood that may have been left and diluting the scent. It didn't matter, the bridge only lead to one place, a small elevated canopy. She floats over the bridge, fear once again rising, but her rage still giving her strength to move. To access the canopy, there was a small rope pulley rigged to a bucket that one could use as a manual elevator. Marceline stares at the bucket, tipped on its side, the rope cut cleanly through.

A low peal of thunder echoes across the sky and she looks up into the dark access hole above her. He had to be in there, dear Glob...

"Finn?" She calls out, but no sound returns. Clenching her fists, she rises up into the darkness, dreading what she would find.

As her head clears the floorboards, she sees nothing but an old torn poster on the wall. Her gut heaves as the smell hits her and she whips around, scanning the small room. If she was mortal, the sight that filled her vision might have been enough to cause a heart attack, even now she felt as if her heart locked up and skipped a beat.

Finn, lay on the floor, shirtless and pale. He was curled on his side, covered in blood. Even in the gloom, she saw the small dagger held to his throat. For a second panic blinds her, pushing away both fear and anger. Then she watches has he pushes the blade into his skin.

"FINN!" His name rips out of her. A small bead of blood appears where the blade pierces his skin and it breaks the spell over her. She lunges forward, watching in horror as he seemingly attempts to push the dagger deeper. She's at his side in a breath, grabbing his hand and wrenching the blade away from his neck. The force of her action whips the blade out of his hand to clatter against the far wall.

Marceline drops to her knees in front of him, panic has wiped reason from her as she stares down at the young man. Do something, NOW, he's DYING! She was shaking, but carefully rolls Finn over onto his back. He's covered in gashes, some of them leaking a thin trickle of blood feeding the semi-dry pool he's laying in. His bare chest rises with a shallow breath, sounding labored. She presses his wrist, trying to find a pulse, gives up and tries his neck. It's there but so weak.

She leans over him and brushes some of his blonde hair from his face. Oh Finn, what happened to the happy little boy, what drove you to do this? He was so pale, his cheeks were sunken and dark circles shadow his eyes. Tears start to fall as she carefully gathers the youth, cradling him like a child, whispering his name. How come I didn't notice this, I mean, hell, I've gone down this road myself. Oh Finn...

"Finn, oh, Finn. Why? Why this?" Her heart feels dead, her soul hurts. How in the hell did I miss something like this? He stirs in her arms, slowly opening bloodshot eyes.

He feels someone, something touching him. He didn't want anyone to find him, he wants peace.

Please go away…

"Finn, oh, Finn. Why? Why this?" The voice is familiar, but when it should bring comfort, all is did was stir thoughts and feelings of shame. He forces his eyes open, trying to focus on a pale shape above him. Something touches his face, almost lovingly, like a mother would do to comfort a sick child. Without thinking, he leans into the touch.

That's all I am, a sick child. Forever a child...

His sight clears and he finds himself staring up into Marceline's pale face. She was crying, her eyes red as her tears fall onto his worthless body. Shame erupts in his chest, strong enough to physically hurt. Oh, Marcy... please, no. He struggles to lift his arm, to comfort her. He understood that it was his stupidity that was hurting her. He didn't care anymore about ending his suffering, his torment and pain. All he wants is to make her stop crying.

"Mar...cy?" She smiles weakly down at him, grabbing his hand. At her touch, he grimaces in pain. Still crying, she leans over and places her forehead against his, her red eyes burning into his.

"Finn, why?" Her voice cracks as she struggles control herself.

"I’m sor...ry, I...I.." He gasps painfully, trying to talk and breathe through his injured throat was proving too much. Between the injuries to his throat, blood loss and more, the last of his strength finally gives out. Eyes rolling back, he shutters in her arms and goes limp. Her eyes go wide.

"Finn, Finn! " She shakes him lightly but it gets no response from the boy. Staggering to her feet, she clutches him to her chest. Swiftly turning, she leaps thru the hole in the floor and lands hard on the deck below. Finn moans softly in her arms, but nothing more. The rain was coming down hard again, but she felt nothing but the weak, dying boy in her arms.

"Please hang on Finn." She leaps out, gathering speed, trying to out race death back to the Candy Kingdom.

Princess Bubblegum was pacing, she didn't know what else to do. So far, every report back came back with negative signs of Finn. No one had seen him since the morning before. In desperation, she activated the GPS device she had hidden on Finn. The little red dot on the screen matched the coordinates of his treehouse. With Marcy on the way there and no word from her yet, all she could is wait.

She was beyond worry at this point, fear had lodged itself in her mind and she was trying to keep busy to prevent it from overpowering her.

"Your Highness," Peppermint Butler interrupts causing her to jump and grab her chest. She stands there for a second, gasping. Whoa, I'm way too wound up, need to relax.

"Sorry, I didn't mean..." She waves at him, dismissing his apology, it was her fault for not paying more attention. For letting fear cloud her mind. When she finally catches her breath and calms her nerves, she addresses him.

"It's alright, any news?" He shakes a dismaying no.

"But I do have other news, Lady Rainicorn and Jake have arrived." She nods, heading out into the hall. It gave her something to do other than worry. Pep Butler falls in behind, closing the door. She hurries down to the throne room where she finds Lady Rainicorn and Jake. Jake isn't taking things too well, since it's still raining, he's soaked but too obsessed with worry to care. Lady looks to PB, then back to Jake.

**Jake...**

Jake is pacing nervously in a circle, but looks up at Lady then in the direction she was facing. As soon as he sees Bubblegum, he rushes over to her, grabbing on to her dress.

"Any word, any at all?" His eyes are large and she can clearly read the worry in his face. She kneels down and grabs him in a hug. He's shaking, cold and wet. She needs to get him taken care of so he doesn't get sick.

"Not not yet. No one in the Candy Kingdom has seen him since yesterday and Marceline hasn't called in." She leans back and Jake whines softly. It wasn't like Finn to just disappear on him. Something was very wrong, Jake knows it's all his fault.

"It's all my fault. How in Glob did I forget Finn's 16th birthday. I've been planning a super bomb party for years, heck, even the Party God offered to help set things up." Jake just stands there, shaking and wringing is paws together. Bubblegum stands there, watching Jake for a few seconds.

"You're right Jake." She says absentmindedly. Lady gasps at her as Jake whimpers louder. She pats Jake's head, "No Jake, not that it's your fault, that you could have forgotten something so important. In fact," she stares off, not focusing on the room or its inhabitants at all.

"How did ALL of us forget something this important?"

Jake stares up into her pink face as Lady floats over and coils around Jake, trying to comfort him.

**I didn't remember either.** She offers, but PB just shakes her head.

"You're not as close to Finn as Jake or even myself, no offence Lady." She adds, although Lady understands and merely nods in agreement.

"Jake sometimes has memory issues, but to forget something like this is out of character for him. As well as myself. I know I have the date written on several calendars, but how I managed to totally forget is strange." She wonders if Marceline had written the date anywhere, cause to have all of them forget something like this was highly suspicious. She stands there, thinking, pondering what would be necessary to make all of them forget a single event when the doors to the throne room slam open.

Everyone, including Peppermint Butler, jump and stare in shock at the figure in the doorway. At first no one can process what they are seeing, then it hits all of them. Marceline stands there, soaked to the skin, holding the half naked form of Finn in her arms. The flight back had been desperate, at the speed in which Marcy flew, the rain became a pelting force. Instead of washing Finn of his dried blood, it just allowed the wounds to reopen and start bleeding again.

Marcy takes a step forward, rainwater and blood dripping from both of them and collapses to her knees. PB turns to Pep Butler, screaming, "Go get Doctor Ice Cream, NOW!" Pep Butler, knocked from his stupor by the force of PB's command, quickly runs off to find the Doctor. PB runs forward, stripping off her lab coat. She comes up to Marcy and can see that the Vampire has been crying, hard. Her eyes are red and puffy, she can't tell if it's water dripping from her hair or tears.

Jake is frozen in place, his mouth open in shock. He can't move, he can't believe what he is seeing, his bro, Finn bloody in the arms of Marcy.

"Marcy...what happened?" PB tries to ask, but Marcy just shakes her head. She spreads her coat over Finn and touches the side of his neck. He's cold to the touch, but she can feel a faint heartbeat. He's still alive, for now explanations can wait.

"Can you walk?" Marcy simply nods and with PB's help, regains her feet. Just as they were about to head inside, the same door Pep Butler went thru, opens. Doctor Ice Cream was there with a stretcher. He meets Marcy halfway across the room and she gently lowers Finn's covered form on the table. Doctor Ice Cream just stares down at the human for a second, wondering how he managed to suffer such injuries, but then pushes the table back toward the doors. Pep Butler goes with him, assisting in maneuvering the stretcher toward the hospital wing.

Everyone turns toward Marcy, waiting. She walks over to Jake, still frozen in shock. Dropping to her knees in front of the yellow dog, she reaches around and encompasses him in a hug. Jake stiffens for a second, being this close to the vampire was enough to make his shock break. She nuzzles into Jake and starts sobbing. Tears come to his eyes as well, but he manages to stifle them for the sake of Marcy.

Jake eyes Lady and PB, but then slowly wraps his arms around Marcy. Several minutes pass and her sobs taper off. Finally, she lets go of Jake, sitting back on her heels. Jake just stares at her. He doesn't even know where to begin, he’s never seen the vampire cry before. Behind them, both PB and Lady are crying softly, holding each other.

"He did it to himself." She softly says, keeping eye contact with Jake. "I found him... before he could finish it." She was numb to the very core of her soul.

"What? ..." It takes a few seconds to fully process what Marcy said. "Why? I don't understand...Finn would have never…" He feels as cold as if the Ice King had encased him in another block of ice. Why would Finn ever want to hurt himself? He's never been ... depressed... like this before. I mean, FP broke his heart, but that was more than a few years ago. He always said he was over it.

A tear rolls down Jake's face as the conclusion hits him. Finn wasn't over it, not in a long shot. Since the kids came around, he's been spending most of his time with Lady, not with his bro. He knew he had been acting off the last few months, but to do something like this. Jake didn't understand, he couldn't understand.

PB and Lady come up behind the two of them, PB dropping to the floor beside Jake, hugging him. Lady coils around all of them.

Through the open door behind all of them, lightning flashes and the rain continues to fall.