Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After doing this for a while, Pris knew the drill. Sit in the booth, listen, and withhold judgment. He knew it wasn't his place to question or condemn sinners. He was a witness, a viewing window for Grod’s divine plan. Even if his faith shifted from day to day, Pris was pretty sure he was still a believer. From his point of view, the fact that he parked himself in that booth every day was more than enough proof.

So when the boy--red-faced and soaked from the rain--entered the church that night and sat down on the other side of the booth, Pris was ready. He was patient and quiet, waiting to receive whatever sorry story this poor kid had for him.

The boy was about sixteen years old. Long blonde hair--drenched from the downpour--fell over his shoulders and down his back. He was wearing an oversized comfy-looking hoodie and a pair of generic blue jeans. He had backpack when he first entered the church, but he dropped it before going into the booth.

When a whole five minutes passed and the boy didn't speak, Pris cleared his throat.

"Why have you come here, my child?" he said.

He could hear water dripping. The boy must have walked all the way through that storm just to get there. What kind of parents let their kid outside on a night like this? Wasn't it past his bedtime?

The boy finally spoke. His voice was pained and scratchy, like he'd spent the last ten minutes screaming his lungs out.

"I didn't know where else to go," he said.

Pris nodded, but he kept his mouth shut. The boy seemed to be in some kind of trouble. Maybe that was why he was wandering around by himself in the rain? Was this about his parents? Was he on the run from an abusive household or something?

"I-I think," the boy started.

He swallowed, choking down a sob as it ballooned in his throat. His shoulders shook, his fingers clawing at the legs of his jeans. The boy's hands moved in abrupt jerky motions.

"I think I killed my brother," said the boy.

Pris clutched at the holy book resting in his lap. It was times like these that his faith in Grod really came in handy. Without his beliefs to prop him up, Pris wouldn't have had the strength to listen to the boy's story.

One month earlier, in the small town of Candace, Bonnibel Gunn--or "Bonnie" as she was more frequently known--had just finished her last delivery. 

Working at a pizza place had its perks, or at least that's what her boss said. Honestly, Bonnie had yet to find that mystical diamond buried in a pile of utter shit. Not that it mattered. Diamonds were worthless anyway, despite the lies pumped out by those fat cat executives.  

At least there was the free pizza. Once in a blue moon, a customer failed to pick up their order and Bonnie got to take the uneaten food home. But after a while, even that supposed perk lost its novelty. In such a relatively small town, it just didn't happen often enough for Bonnie to get excited. The only change of pace she actually looked forward to were the occasional prank calls from dumb teens and middle-schoolers.

Bonnie hopped off her moped, unloaded the empty delivery containers, and walked through the front door. Working late on the weekend as usual. Catering to a steady stream of college kids and high-schoolers. The nearby campus was pretty much the only reason this place was still in business.

"I'm out, chief," said Bonnie.

She pulled off the stupid cap she had to wear--it had the place's logo and name stamped across the front--and plopped it down on the counter. Ugh. She hated deliveries. It was always a bunch of frat boys or some blazed idiots goofing off. Fridays were the worst.

Max--her boss--dragged his greasy fingers across his T-shirt, leaving a gross trail. He was wearing that expensive sports jacket--the one with the enormous sleeves--that he liked to show off. Bonnie got tired of seeing it during her first week, but of course the guy wore it every single flipping day. He would have looked naked without it.

"Excuse me, what?" said Max.

He'd been running Pizza Sassy for a good fifty years--not true at all. Bonnie checked and the place had only been open for five years, plus Max couldn't have been older than mid-thirties--and he'd made zero changes since opening day. Same booths, same royalty-free music over the speakers, same tiled floor and busted soda machine.

Fun fact: Max bought that soda machine for twenty bucks at an auction. It broke within a week of use and he refused to replace it. It just sat in the corner with an Out of Order sign. He told Bonnie the whole story during her initial interview.

"I'm, uh, done for the day," said Bonnie.

Max leaned forward, elbows on the counter. He grinned at her, his head propped up on his hands.

"Oh no no no no," he said. "You're far from done, Bonnibel."

He dropped his gaze to the counter, tracing random shapes with his finger. His fingernails, beard, and mustache were perfectly groomed, giving Max a put-together look that was more than a little misleading. If it hadn't been for the grease on Max's shirt, he would have looked somewhat handsome.

Bonnie folded her arms.

"Shift's over," she said. "No more deliveries tonight."

Max shook his head, tutting at her like a disapproving hen. He spoke in a sing-songy voice, resting a hand under his chin and tilting his head like a curious cat.

"No no no, Bonnie my dear," he said. "I've still got some work for you. Yes I do, yes I do."

He abruptly snapped back to his normal voice, straightening up and smoothing down his ruined shirt. For a split second, Max almost looked like, well, the boss and owner of a mildly successful pizza place. But the illusion was gone in seconds. Max was just a guy in the most expensive--and greasy--outfit Bonnie had ever seen. He was a man in an overpriced sports jacket and pants that weren't the least bit suited to his actual job.

"You know that new delivery girl?" said Max. "About 5'7? Long black hair? Pale as a baby's bottom?"

Bonnie had no clue what he was talking about. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Um, no?" she said.

Max lifted his leg and plopped it onto the counter. He pressed both hands against his lower back and stretched, letting out a long groan of exertion.

"Oh?" he said. "Oh yeah, totally forgot to tell you. Totes my fault, Big B. I'm such a lovable scamp."

He stretched and groaned again, making Bonnie flinch.

"So I hired a new delivery girl," he said. "You don't mind giving her some pointers, do you? Just want to make sure she gets it, you know? You remember your first night on the job, don't you?"

Bonnie slammed her palm into her forehead and sighed. Really? Why tonight of all nights? Was Max trying to make her life nightmarish?

"What the stuff, man?" said Bonnie. "I'm your delivery girl!"

She knew it was a dumb thing to be ticked off about. But it was the only thing she could think of, because everything else was so incomprehensible to her.

"Why the flip would you hire another delivery person?" said Bonnie. "That's hecking banana-bonzo-bread."

Bonnie just didn't get it. They had a system. They had a way to do things that worked better than all the other ways. Bonnie and Finn did deliveries, the kitchen staff handled the food, and Max pretended to do his job. And somehow it worked out perfectly, like a well-oiled machine or a carefully-crafted sandwich.

Max snapped his fingers.

"You're right," he said. "It is banana-bonkers-bears. Imagine that."

He threw back his head and laughed. Max finally slid his leg off the counter, still guffawing as if he'd just told the funniest joke in the universe. Bonnie wished she was in on it, because she didn't find any of this funny. But Max was just loving it. And the longer Bonnie stood there silently seething, the more Max cracked up at his own unmatched sense of humor.

Fortunately, the arrival of the new delivery girl finally shut him up.

She emerged--that was really the best word for it--from the back. As Max had promised, she was about 5'7. She had long dark hair, curtains of it falling down the sides of her face and along her back. She brushed the hair from her face, grinning and showing off some unusually long canines. She was definitely walking, but there was a gracefulness to how she moved. If Bonnie hadn't known any better, she would have assumed this new delivery girl was gliding a half-inch or so off the floor because she moved so smoothly.

"Ah, here she is," said Max. "Margaret."

The girl gave Bonnie a quick once-over, crossing her arms.

"Marceline," she said. "Marcy. Marcy Abadeer."

Feigning politeness, Bonnie stuck out her hand. She swallowed a few snarky comments about Marcy's weird last name. After all, she worked for a guy whose last name was King and whose middle name was Hustler. Another juicy detail Max had dropped during the very brief job interview. Maxwell Hustler King.

"Bonnibel," said Bonnie. "Bonnibel Gunn."

Marcy took Bonnie's hand and shook it. She was making a lot of eye contact, that slightly crap-eating smile frozen on her face. Even under the near-blinding lights of Pizza Sassy, Marcy looked pale. In fact, her skin almost looked pure white under those bright lights. Marcy looked like she hadn't seen the sun in ages.

"Nice meeting you, Bonnibel," said Marcy.

Max clapped his hands together.

"Tick tock," he said. "Tick tock. The night is young, ladies. The night is young and the pizza is fresh."

Bonnie sighed. Of course. She was supposed to accompany Marcy on her first delivery. It was standard procedure, something Bonnie didn't think she'd ever have to put up with. She wanted to ask if Finn could do it, but she didn't want to advertise how ticked off she felt. She could at least fake being neutral about this.

Bonnie gestured towards the front door. She slapped on her best customer service smile, grinning wide enough to show way too many teeth.

"Let's go," she said.

She grabbed her cap from the counter and returned it to her head. Bonnie frowned as she adjusted it, a shudder of disgust sprinting up her spine.  Bonnie was pretty sure her cap had been less greasy a minute ago.

Marcy wasn't wearing the standard uniform, or at least not all of it. She'd ditched the cap--something Max normally wouldn't tolerate--and she was wearing a letterman jacket. Marcy kept the shirt, but Bonnie had a feeling the sleeves were ripped off or something. Alterations to the uniform were a hundred percent not allowed.

They were walking, although Bonnie would have preferred the moped. But the address was within walking distance, so Bonnie decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Those cheap mopeds only worked about fifty-percent of the time. Bonnie didn't want anymore headaches. Her patience was already being ground into a fine powder.

"So I guess you're new," said Bonnie.

Bonnie tried to keep her head down, but she definitely would have noticed a tall pale girl running around town.

Marcy had her hands shoved into her pockets. She was staring up at the night sky as they walked.

"Sure, you could say that," said Marcy.

Bonnie cleared her throat. By her estimate, that was enough small talk. Bonnie had some stuff to say. And she needed Max to be out of earshot. Bonnie didn't need another halfhearted lecture from Max about employee etiquette and her so-called "uptight-a-tude".

"And you're late," said Bonnie. "You can't just come in whenever you want."

She almost added that she was never late. Bonnie was always there promptly at opening time. Max hardly ever enforced his own rules, but Bonnie stuck to them. If she hadn't, there probably wouldn't have been anyone doing their actual job on a regular basis. Showing up on time was the least Bonnie could do.

Marcy shrugged.

"Boss man says I can come in after dark," she said.

Bonnie frowned, skeptical. She could believe Max just didn't give a dingle-dangle about promptness, but him actually telling Marcy she could come in after dark? Him being openly flexible about the hours? Bonnie doubted it, but she didn't know enough to call Marcy out. It was possible, just not very likely.

"Well, at least try to be here before we close," said Bonnie.

Marcy groaned, tucking her arms behind her head.

"Oh, really?" she said. "Are you my boss now, Bonnibel?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She didn't think she was being unreasonable. Whatever strange deal Marcy had made with Max, Bonnie wasn't having any of it. This felt less like walking a pizza to someone's house and more like a very aggressive briefing.

"You can't just do whatever you want," said Bonnie.

Marcy pressed a hand to the side of her face and opened her mouth, feigning surprise.

"Whoa, really?" she said. "I did not know that. Good tip, Bonnibel. I'll keep that in mind."

Bonnie groaned. There was no way she'd been this insufferable on her first day. Max had put zero thought into hiring Bonnie, because he put zero thought into anything business-related. But Bonnie still worked her ass off to prove she could do her job, even if Max didn't give a crap. But Marcy seemed to be on the extreme opposite of Bonnie's work ethic. And Bonnie was probably going to have to put up with her for a long time.

They finally reached the house.  A big old house that had probably been there for ages.   

Bonnie hung back. She watched Marcy march up to the front door with the pizza. Maybe whatever Marcy lacked in positive energy, she made up for with great people skills.  That was something they could use on their team.   

Marcy raised her first and pounded on the door, balancing the pizza on her other hand.

"Yo, man!" she shouted. "I got your pizza, dingus!"

After two whole minutes of knocking, the door opened. A buff man wearing a tank top and a pair of cut-off jeans was standing in the doorway. His hair was perfectly-styled and his upper lip was covered by a bushy mustache.

"Ah, my repast has arrived," said the man. "A welcome treat after spending all day working on my impressive physique."

He flexed slightly as he spoke, showing off his massive tree trunk arms.  Bonnie recognized the guy:  Mr. Cups, a semi-regular.  He ordered from them—always vegetarian—about once a week.  And sometimes he dropped in during his jogs for a cold drink.   

Marcy shoved the pizza into his hands.

"Whatever, dude," she said.

She held out her hand.

The guy didn't seem put off by her attitude, although he probably didn't really notice it. He was too busy flexing and admiring his own muscles. He was putting on a little show--mostly for himself--as he reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet. He took his sweet time counting out the cash.

"Keep the change," he said.

Marcy didn't count the bills. She just shoved them into her pocket and nodded. She instantly turned and left, waving at the guy over her shoulder like they were old friends.  For his part, Mr. Cups didn’t seem to mind.  He just waved back at her, standing in the doorway for a few extra seconds as Marcy returned to the sidewalk.   

She met Bonnie on the sidewalk. It was a cold night, but Marcy wasn't even shivering. That made sense. Unlike Bonnie, Marcy was actually dressed for the weather. That jacket must have made a big difference.

"So how'd I do, Bonnibel?" said Marcy.

Bonnie didn't answer. She wasn't sure Marcy even wanted an answer. Was this all a game to her? Was this really how people got their kicks these days? Bonnie couldn't believe she'd trusted Max for even a split second. The guy was an incompetent jackass and that was pretty much it. Bonnie couldn't argue with the mountains of evidence.  

Bonnie turned and started walking away. She hoped Marcy would take the hint and wander off somewhere. Bonnie was fine with walking all the way back by herself. Candace was one of the safest towns in the world. There hadn't been a violent crime there for a whole fifty or sixty years. It was nerve-wracking, but Bonnie was confident that she'd be fine. Plus she had training. If someone tried anything, she could definitely defend herself.

But Marcy was apparently too dense to realize she was being snubbed. Or maybe she actually wanted to keep this job for some reason. Either way, Marcy wasn't getting left behind. She followed Bonnie, coming up beside her and flashing that grin.

"Nice night, huh?" said Marcy. "Reminds me of when I was a kid."

Again, Bonnie resisted the urge to make a snarky comment. Something along the lines of "What, two years ago?" Or probably something even more clever and emotionally devastating. Bonnie just didn't get Marcy's deal. She didn't get why Marcy was there, what she was trying to do, or why any of this was happening.

So Bonnie latched onto one question she was pretty sure Marcy would answer. It had been bugging the heck out of her since Marcy said it. But Bonnie didn't ask at first, because she was too ticked to think straight. Now that her head was more or less in order, Bonnie decided to take a stab at solving one little mystery. She needed to know just one thing about Marceline Abadeer. And once Bonnie got her answer, she could settle into a nice Marcy-less existence, even if it meant pretending that Marcy didn't exist.

"So why exactly can you only work after dark?" said Bonnie.

She was thinking "day job", although she couldn't even fathom what that might be.

Marcy stopped in her tracks. She shoved her hands into her pockets, her grin spreading even wider. Lips pulled back to expose those unusually sharp canines again. Her eyes slightly wide and shining in the moonlight. There was something weirdly animalistic about her face. It was subtle, but she had this slightly wolfish quality. It really only came out when Marcy smiled like that.

"Oh dip, Boss Man didn't tell you?" said Marcy.

She tossed her hair and laughed. For a split second, Bonnie could have sworn Marcy's eyes flashed red. But that had to be a trick of the light. Because that was impossible. Human eyes didn't do that. For that matter, the sharp high-pitched laugh that came out of Marcy's mouth sounded vaguely unnatural. There was suddenly this very subtle yet somehow overwhelming sense of strangeness just throbbing out of her. It struck Bonnie somewhere deep in her bones.

Marcy stopped laughing. She locked eyes with Bonnie, a deep penetrating gaze that went straight into Bonnie's chest.

"I'm a vampire," she said.

Bonnie suddenly felt very cold and very warm at the exact same time. It was a jarring and unpleasant feeling.

Chapter Text

Logically, Bonnie knew vampires weren't real. Logically, she knew that the existence of any supernatural creature was questionable at best. Logically, she knew that this wasn't just her being a skeptic. This was--without a single doubt--the most logical conclusion to come to after any amount of research. Bonnie wasn't an idiot. She knew ghost stories were bullshit and cheesy romance novels about sexy vampires were just fiction. Bonnie had known both of these things as absolute facts since she was a child.

But as Bonnie biked to work on Monday, her brain kept getting pulled back to that eventful Friday night. A night of deliveries that ended with the weirdest encounter Bonnie had ever expected to have with a new employee.

"I'm a vampire," Marcy had said with a straight face.

And Bonnie had said the only thing that made sense in the moment, the only reply that encapsulated everything she was feeling.

"Vampires aren't real, ya donk." 

Not her proudest response, but Bonnie stood by it. Because vampires definitely weren't real. Bonnie knew that for an absolute complete utter fact. It was indisputable.

However. 

There was the little problem of Marcy's unusually pale skin, those sharp canines of hers, the way she moved, that strange thing with the eyes.

Bonnie slowed to a stop in front of Pizza Sassy. She leaned her bike against the building and locked it up. Bonnie maintained a perfect one hundred percent record of never having her bike stolen. She planned to keep that record for as long as possible.

She jammed the key into the lock and turned, leaning on the door to open it. Sharp canines weren't really that unusual, if Bonnie actually thought about it. Neither was pale skin. And that eye thing had most likely been a trick of Bonnie's tired brain. Eyes didn't do that. They just didn't. 

And Marcy didn't move in ways that were impossible. She was graceful, but graceful like a practiced dancer. Someone light on their feet. Someone who knew what they were doing.

Bonnie stepped into Pizza Sassy, tucking the keys back into her pocket. Max was supposed to open the place every day, but of course he was always late. Bonnie was usually the first one there. Thank god Max gave her a set of keys. Bonnie couldn't even imagine waiting outside for two or three hours past opening.

She walked over to the counter. So why was Marcy even on her mind? Bonnie had met tons of girls just like Marcy in high school. They weren't special.

"I'm a vampire." 

Bonnie shook her head. Why had she even expected a serious answer? Marcy clearly wasn't capable of taking anything seriously. Even a job at a crappy pizza place was too beneath Marcy for her to care. Bonnie wondered what kind of parents or parent raised someone like that. Must have been a strange family.

But there was undoubtedly something weird about Marcy. Not supernatural, because that was just dumb. But there was definitely something odd there. And Bonnie wasn't sure how she was going to figure it out.

She pushed open the kitchen door and headed inside.

Bonnie couldn't simply ask Marcy. She knew exactly what she'd get: snarky answers like the one from last night. If Bonnie attacked this directly, she'd just end up getting frustrated. And that wasn't going to work, because Bonnie legitimately wanted to know. It pained her to admit this, but she was interested in Marcy.

There was only one thing Bonnie could do. She needed to study Marceline. Bonnie needed to start keeping detailed notes on her activities, learning everything about her. It was the only way Bonnie was going to satiate this growing hunger for answers. It was the only approach that made sense to her as a scientist.

But there was one huge glaring problem: Marcy couldn't know that Bonnie was studying her. If the subject became self-aware, it would taint the experience. Bonnie needed raw data.  And that required keeping Marcy in the dark.

Bonnie fired up the oven. Keeping Marcy in the dark was the easy part. The hard part would be collecting and analyzing the data she needed.

But Bonnie could handle that. She had experience.

For the next week, Bonnie was on Marceline watch.

That's what she called it. It was like studying a wild animal in an enclosure at the zoo. Fascinating, but also a little sad. And necessary if Bonnie wanted to understand some of the subject's stranger behavior. Her sanity seemed like a worthy sacrifice for the cause.

As promised, Marceline only showed her face after the sun went down. With Pizza Sassy open well into the evenings, this wasn't really a problem. Max insisted on keeping the place open until eleven at night for the blazed college kids and high-schoolers who got the munchies. Bonnie had zero proof, but she was pretty sure Max was selling weed and stuff to the local students. It was accidentally a pretty sound business practice.

The first thing Bonnie noticed--after about three days of watching--was that Marcy didn't go home. She left after closing like everyone else, but Bonnie never actually saw Marcy leave Pizza Sassy. She'd just sort of disappear while Bonnie was doing whatever extra work she’d been assigned.   Bonnie never heard the front door open or close. Did Marcy go out the back and circle around or something? Why would she do that? Caution? Paranoia?

Bonnie decided to take the direct approach. She went up to Marcy and asked her where she lived.

Marcy was loading up one of the mopeds for a late night delivery. Those mopeds were older than the pizza place. Supposedly they were treasured mementos from Max's college days. And despite being crappy, they actually worked pretty well. Bonnie never bothered asking Max why he had a whole fleet of mopeds in college.

Marcy straightened up, sweeping her hair out of her face. So much hair. Bonnie had to step back to avoid getting whapped in the face by it. The sight of it made Bonnie want to chop off her own hair just to make it more manageable. At least Bonnie rocked a nice ponytail when she was on duty.

She turned to Bonnie and grinned.

"Ooooh, does little Bon-Bon want to follow me home?" she said.

Bonnie folded her arms, flinching at the nickname like it physically hurt. Three days. Three flipping days. She should have been used to all this by now. Bonnie was glad she only worked at Pizza Sassy four days a week. Any extra time with Marcy would have been a nightmare. Plus Bonnie needed that off time to go over her notes.

Marcy fastened her helmet, pulling the strap across her chin and clipping it into place.

"Where do you live, Bonnibel?" she said.

Bonnie furrowed her brow. She wanted to be ticked off, but technically she asked first. Couldn't really blame Marcy for turning it back on her. And maybe if Bonnie at least pretended to be okay with it, she might get some actual info out of Marcy.

"Um, apartment," said Bonnie. "Near that bakery."

She hugged herself, shivering from the cold.

Marcy was showing a lot more skin tonight. Marcy had ditched the letterman jacket in favor of a gray tank top and a pair of ripped jeans. But she wasn't reacting to the cold at all, even as Bonnie--wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of really thick pants--was almost freezing her ass off.

"Coolest Apartments?" said Marcy.

It was a good guess, given that there was only one apartment complex in Candace.

Bonnie nervously played with her hair. Crap. She should have lied and said she lived by the train tracks or something. Too late. No take-backs.

"Yeah," said Bonnie. "That bakery has, like, the best tarts. Totes banyangles."

She tried to smile, hoping this came off as a normal conversation instead of a desperate probe for information. It had kind of morphed into both.  Those really were the best tarts in Candace, maybe the whole world. They were also hella expensive. Bonnie hadn't had one since her last birthday.

"Nice," said Marcy.

She hopped on the moped. Marcy wiggled a little, adjusting herself on the seat and getting comfortable. She twisted around in her seat and waved at Bonnie as she sped off, long hair streaming behind her like a curtain.

Holding her arm, Bonnie waved back.

So no answers that night, but Bonnie had plenty of old data to analyze. Marcy was just like any other subject. Bonnie couldn't expect Marcy to give her everything right away. Bonnie needed to work for it. It was too bad she didn't have unlimited free time. Bonnie really wanted to know Marcy's deal.

Finn appeared, the front door swinging shut behind him as he stepped out of Pizza Sassy.

"You okay out here?" he said.

Bonnie exhaled, fighting back an eye roll. Of course she was freaking okay. She'd only been out there for, what? Ten minutes? And Marcy was right there, or at least she had been less than two minutes ago.

"Yes, Finn," said Bonnie.

She turned around and gave him a double thumbs-up and a huge fake grin. Bonnie was fully aware that Finn was into her. He hadn't exactly been subtle about his little crush. But if he wasn't going to bring it up, Bonnie was okay with ignoring the subject. It was actually kind of fascinating, the way the human brain manufactured so many emotions to cope with basic human needs. Bonnie really wanted to hook Finn up to one of her homemade brain scan machines, but that probably would have violated some kind of rule about employee conduct.

Finn rubbed the back of his head. He had his long hair tied into a ponytail for work. He thought it looked silly, but Bonnie was grateful he took his job seriously.

Bonnie grabbed Finn's shoulder, causing his cheeks to flush. She guided him inside, getting them both out of the cold and into the nice warm pizza place.

They settled in one of the booths, sitting across from each other.

Kara had her earphones in, bobbing her head to some song as she scrubbed booths. She didn't seem to notice Finn or Bonnie. She was completely in the zone. It wasn't exactly closing time, but it was never too early to make sure the place was spotless.

"So, thoughts on Marceline?" said Bonnie.

Finn folded his arms on the table.

"The sexy vampire lady?" he said.

Her calm demeanor shattering, Bonnie groaned in frustration and dragged a hand through her hair.

"Vampires aren't donking real!" said Bonnie. "Ghosts, werewolves, vampires. It's all nutso, Finn. Totes nutso."

Finn nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Upsetting Bonnie was never fun. And it wasn't like he didn't know she'd freak out. But Finn had to be honest with her.

"I know, BB," said Finn. "Usually I'd think this stuff was some serious nutso. But I don't know, man. I kind of believe her. I mean, what's with the only showing up after dark thing?"

Bonnie folded her arms. She couldn't believe Finn was being this dumb.

"Seriously?" said Bonnie. "Photosensitivity. She's allergic to the sun and trying to play us."

Finn thought for a minute.

"Okay, so what about the fangs?" said Finn.

Bonnie leaned back in her seat. Of course Finn didn't know about her research. He didn't know that she'd thought about all of this a dozen times. Pages and pages of detailed notes within a single document.

"They're not fangs, you butt," said Bonnie. "They're just abnormally sharp canines. She needs to get them filed down."

Finn leaned forward and spoke quietly, like he was revealing some kind of secret.

"I totally saw her eyes flash red one time," he said.

Bonnie threw up her hands, giving Finn her best look of total frustration. Marcy was way too good at convincing people that she wasn't full of crap. Maybe that was how she got hired. Not that tricking Max was difficult.

"Dude, that's a trick of the light!" said Bonnie. "Haven't you ever seen red eye in photographs? She's in your dome, man. She's making you see things."

Finn looked a lot less sure of himself. And why wouldn't he? Everything Bonnie said made complete sense. And now he was starting to doubt he'd seen anything weird.

Bonnie stood up. This conversation hadn't gone in the direction she wanted, but she hoped Finn had learned his lesson. Finn was an overall good guy, but sometimes he was too naive. Maybe it had something to do with his home life.

"Finn, vampires aren't real," said Bonnie. "You're being nanners."

She didn't mean to sound so harsh. She understood how Finn fell for Marcy's dumb little prank. But she was getting sick of this bullshit. The joke stopped being funny after that first night. But Marcy just kept messing with them.

Finn jumped out of his seat. He'd just remembered that he was supposed to be working. Working at Pizza Sassy didn't feel like much of a job, but Finn tried not be a slacker. If it wasn't for his and Bonnie's work ethic, the place would have gone under. And Kara and Moe helped too, because Kara and Moe were awesome.

Finn rushed to grab a mop and start scrubbing the floor. He knew Bonnie wanted the place spotless.

 
 
Finn shouted his brother’s name, throwing his jacket over the back of an armchair.
 
He was always like this after a long day at Pizza Sassy.  It wasn’t the most physically or emotionally taxing work he’d ever done, but it was definitely up there.  Mostly it was having to constantly cover Max’s ass.  Honestly, Finn didn’t even feel like Max owned or ran the place.  Bonnie did a good chunk of the work.  It was like they were all playing the boss while Max goofed off.  And if that had been the original arrangement, Finn would have been stoked.  But Max clearly thought of himself as the ringleader.  
 
Finn flopped into the armchair, letting out a long sigh.  Bonnie.  Crap.  He couldn’t believe he’d gotten into a fight with her.  Not even a fight.  More like a verbal sparring match.  Except instead of winning, they both just sort of dropped it.  And all because Bonnie couldn’t accept that Marceline was totally a vampire.  Seriously, how could she not see it?    
 
On the other hand, maybe Bonnie was right.  There were a ton of better explanations for Marcy’s weirdness.  But Finn chose to believe Marcy because….because….  Well, okay, Finn didn’t really have a good reason to think Marcy was telling the truth.  It was more of a feeling deep in his gut.
 
Jake came into the living room.  He was tip-tapping on his phone, eyes hanging on the small rectangular screen.  He managed to drag his attention away from social media long enough to smile at Finn.  Jake’s phone twittered out a series of notification sounds as he looked up, like it was pissed about being ignored.  It clearly took a considerable amount of willpower for Jake to keep his eyes on Finn.  
 
“Hey, buddy-bro,” said Jake.  “You okay?” 
 
Finn grabbed the arms of his chair and leaned back.
 
“Work is bunk, man,” he said.
 
He raised both his hands and waved them around.
 
“Check it,” he said.  “So there’s this new girl at Pizza Sassy.  And I swear to Grod there’s something weird about her.  But Bonnie’s being all science and math about it.  She doesn’t believe this girl’s a vampire.”
 
Jake flinched at the dreaded V word.  Ever since he watched a bunch of old vampire movies, he’d been terrified of those undead freaks.  He didn’t get this whole sexy vampire craze.  Teenagers were donking insane.  Those cold clammy hands, those empty eyes.  Ugh.  How could anyone get all hot and bothered about a walking corpse? 
 
“If Bonnie says she’s not a vampire, she’s probably not, dude,” said Jake.
 
Finn shook his head.
 
“No, man, I saw it,” said Finn.  “She’s totally a vampire or a zombie or something.”
 
Jake shrugged.
 
“Nah,” he said.  “It’s just made up for movies and junk.  If that stuff was real, we’d all be dead as dead.”
 
Finn jumped out of his chair.  He was getting sick of being talked to like he was a kid.  He was almost seventeen, for Glob’s sake.  Why did everyone feel comfortable just brushing him off?   
 
Giving up, Finn stormed into the bedroom he shared with Jake.  He closed the door behind him, a nice hard slam that shook all the bedroom shelves.  He was briefly—before the anger settled inside his chest again—worried that something important might tumble off its shelf and crash into the floor.  But Finn didn’t really care.  Only half the stuff was his.  
 
Jake called to Finn from the living room.
 
“You’d better not bunk up my stuff, dude!”  he said.
 
Finn hopped onto his bed, burying his face in the pillow.  He knew he was acting like a child—which didn’t really help his case—but Finn didn’t care.  He was so tired of being treated like he was five.
 
Grumbling about Jake being a buttface, Finn flipped onto his back.  He dug his phone out of his pocket.  It was one of those ancient flip phones.  Jake told Finn it belonged to their dad—their dad—and he’d found it in one of the many unmarked boxes filled with their parents’ stuff.  Most of their parents’ junk was in the attic, stacked and tucked away.  Jake probably hadn’t thought about those boxes in a long time. 
 
Finn called the one person he knew would believe him, the one person who might actually treat him like an adult.  He knew Jake would be pissed if he found out, but Finn didn’t care.  Finn would be more ticked off at himself for not trying.
 
He arranged a meet-up.  Finn emphasized this whole thing being a secret, even though Finn felt scummy about keeping something like this from his brother.  But it wasn’t like Finn was doing anything shady.  He was just asking a friend for some advice and guidance.  The fact that Jake was being kept in the dark was just an unfortunate sacrifice.  Maybe when this was all over, Finn would tell Jake everything.  But for now, he was better off keeping his mouth shut.
 
Finn opened the bedroom door a crack and peeked out.  He’d only been in there for about twenty minutes, but he was pretty sure Jake had given up.
 
Sure enough, Jake was asleep on the couch.  He was lying with his phone on his chest, strands of curly straw-colored hair all over his face.  Jake was snoring, arms folded over his stomach.  
 
Grabbing his coat off the armchair, Finn felt a twinge of genuine guilt.  Jake worked so hard.  He took odd jobs just to keep a roof over their heads, balancing his fluctuating career as a freelance entertainer with whatever random work he could find.  Finn was trying to help, working at Pizza Sassy and doing some furniture moving for a local company.  But sometimes they both got stressed and Finn knew it wasn’t fair to blow up at Jake. 
 
Finn zipped up his coat.  It was late—ten minutes after midnight—but this couldn’t wait until morning.  He needed to prove he wasn’t going nuts.  Maybe if Finn proved he was right about Marcy, he’d feel better about getting so pissed at Jake and throwing a tantrum.
 
He didn’t leave a note.  Finn wasn’t going very far.  He’d probably be back before Jake even realized he was gone.
 
 

 
 
Finn met his friend at an all-night coffee place.  Finn didn’t like coffee—it made him jittery—but he ordered a cup of hot chocolate while he waited the usual ten minutes.
 
He bit his lip, clutching the table like he thought it might float off.  His sins just kept piling up.  But if his friend had agreed to this, there was no way it was bad, right?  Even if Finn was doing this behind Jake’s back, it wasn’t like he was completely demolishing Jake’s trust.  The two of them—Finn and this friend of his—used to hang out a lot back in the day.  Usually it was the three of them.  This covert meeting was making Finn feel gross, but he was too late to back out.
 
He sipped his cocoa while he waited, barely tasting the rich chocolaty goodness.  Finn wasn’t sure how he was going to approach this.  He hadn’t really explained himself over the phone.  He just said it was “urgent”, which might have given the impression that he was in danger.  But Finn’s friend had to know he was okay, right?  If Finn had really been in danger, he would have gone to Bonnie or Jake.  Unless, of course, Bonnie or Jake were the ones causing the trouble.  That wasn’t too far from the truth. 
 
Finn heard the bell above the door tinkle.  He stared into his cup of cocoa, realizing how weird he must have looked.  Some random teenager inside an all-night coffee place after midnight.  Finn knew he looked younger than his sixteen years.  People constantly mistook him for a twelve-year-old and it wasn’t the least bit fun.
 
Someone sat down across from Finn, setting their bag aside as they settled into their chair.
 
Finn snapped his head up.  He was relieved.  Finn wasn’t scared about being out this late, but he was starting to get worried that his friend might not show up.
 
The woman sitting across from Finn was tall.  She was wearing the most blinding collection of colors Finn had ever seen.  A lot of yellows, reds, and greens clashing with each other in one simple outfit.  The rainbow stockings completed her bizarre and visually aggressive look.  The woman placed her phone on the table, unicorn phone charm swinging back and forth as she pulled it out of her bag.  A long pale blonde ponytail—dyed blonde—bounced when she moved her head. 
 
She said something in Korean.  Finn slightly understood—he’d spent enough time around her to pick up a few things—but he wasn’t entirely sure what she meant.
 
The woman switched to English, grabbing her bag and placing it on the table.
 
“You wanted to see me?”  she said.
 
Finn nervously wrung his hands.  Logically, he knew there was nothing weird about meeting with Rain.  She was his friend too, even if she was dating Jake.  But this was one of the few hangouts that Jake wasn’t involved in.  Finn hoped he was actually going to get something out of this.  Otherwise he’d dragged his brother’s girlfriend out of her house in the middle of the night for nothing.
 
“Uh, yeah,” said Finn.  “I think you’re the only one who won’t think I’m totes nanners.” 
 
He grabbed his cocoa and pulled it towards him.  
 
Over the course of ten minutes, Finn explained everything.  Marceline, Bonnie, the strange vibes he was getting, his theories.  He even admitted that he wasn’t sure whether or not he actually was nanners.  Maybe Finn was making a mountain out of, well, a speck of dirt.  Maybe Jake and Bonnie were justified in treating him like a child. 
 
Rain ordered a mocha with extra cream, but she didn’t stop listening to Finn.  She just sat there, hands folded in her lap as Finn told her everything.  And when her drink arrived, Rain took a few light sips while Finn wrapped up his story.
 
Finn slumped in his seat.  Even if Rain didn’t believe him, at least she let him talk.  Finn really needed to get all of that off his chest.  His frustration towards Bonnie had sort of escalated as he thought about it.  It really hurt.  He’d had a crush on her for a long time and Bonnie still thought he was some silly kid with a big imagination.  
 
Rain sipped her mocha a little more.  She weighed her answer carefully, taking in everything Finn had said.  Putting it all out there, it sounded more than a little outlandish.  But Rain wasn’t laughing or telling Finn to be more sciency about this.  She was actually looking at his point of view, like he was an adult and they were having an intellectual discussion.  Whether she believed him or not, Finn was visibly relieved.  
 
“Does she have a reflection?”  said Rain.
 
Finn had to think about that one.  There weren’t exactly a ton of mirrors at Pizza Sassy.  There was one big one in the gender-neutral bathroom, but Marcy never went in there.  There used to be two working bathrooms—one for men, one for women—but the mens’ bathroom had been out of commission for a while.  Max’s solution was to re-brand the other bathroom as “gender-neutral”.  It was cheaper than actually fixing anything and none of the customers seemed to mind.
 
“I’m not sure,” said Finn.
 
He tried to remember if he’d caught Marcy’s reflection in anything—a shiny pot or something—but he had no clue.  That wasn’t something he paid attention to.  In hindsight, checking for a reflection should have been Finn’s first priority.  Bonnie could make up excuses for Marcy’s pale skin and the fangs, but a lack of reflection was a little harder to debunk.
 
Rain unclasped her bag and reached inside.  She pulled out a little round thing and handed it to Finn.
 
Finn took the thing from her and flipped it open.  It was a mirror.  One of those small compacts that people used for make-up.  Small enough to fit inside a bag.
 
“Catch her with this,” said Rain.
 
Excitement roared in Finn’s chest.  Finally.  How had Finn not thought of this before?  He felt like an idiot.  He didn’t even need to come up with a convoluted plan. 
 
“Dude, awesome!”  said Finn.
 
He tucked the compact into his pocket.  Finn was already trying to figure out how he was going to catch Marcy’s reflection—or lack of reflection—without her noticing.  Even though Marcy told him she was a vampire, she couldn’t have expected him to believe her.  It was her idea of a game, something to piss off Bonnie.  But Finn knew it was real.  And he was about to get some hard evidence.
 
First he was going to show Marceline that he knew.  He was going to present his undeniable proof to her and Bonnie.  And once Marcy was caught completely off-balance, Finn was going to stab her.  Stab her right through the heart with a wooden stake.  Because if there was one thing Finn knew for sure, vampires were evil.  
 
“Do you have any, like, holy water?”  said Finn.
 
He was recalling all of his vampire knowledge from old movies and books.
 
Rain shrugged.
 
“I could make some,” she said.
 
She was busy, but never too busy for Finn or Jake.  Rain was an artist, specifically a painter with a deep love for radical and bold color schemes.  But she primarily worked for a small local ride-share service.  Painting was amazing, but it didn’t really bring in a reliable regular income.  Rain couldn’t wait until she had enough cash saved up to quit her day job and start painting full-time.   
 
“Sweet,” said Finn.
 
He paid for his drink and Rain paid for hers.  It was after one in the morning and they both needed to head home.
 
Finn felt a thousand times more confident as he left the coffee place.  It didn’t matter if Bonnie and Jake didn’t believe him.  They could sit in their boring gray little bubble of science and logic.  Finn had something way better:  a real live vampire.
 
 

 
 
Observing Marceline had its challenges, but Bonnie was prepared.
 
She spent a while in the bathroom—a domain Marcy seemed unwilling to enter—adding to her notes and doing some research.  For Bonnie to truly understand how Marcy operated, she needed to dig up some info.  Bonnie needed to understand what made Marcy tick.
 
But as Bonnie frantically scrolled through increasingly irrelevant pages of search results, Bonnie just couldn’t find a single thing.  There was no social media trail for her to follow.  Marcy didn’t have any accounts for Bonnie to stalk.  And despite Bonnie plugging Marcy’s name into pretty much every database she could find and making inquiries with some of her tech buddies, Bonnie came up blank.  It was like Marceline had zero online presence, which seemed ridiculous in this day and age.  Even Bonnie had two social media accounts, one of which was dedicated to posting science hot takes and the other was a more private account for her to connect with her fellow programmers.
 
Bonnie let out a frustrated groan.  The sound bounced off the bathroom walls, reminding her that she was sitting on a filthy toilet in a bathroom that never seemed to be fully clean.  And earlier that day, Bonnie had skipped lunch for the sake of her research.  Now she was really feeling her mistakes.   
 
“What the frag, dude?”  said Bonnie to herself.
 
She tried again, hitting the Search icon for the fifth time that day.  But it didn’t matter.  No matter what combination of words she tried, nothing was coming up.  Ten whole pages of zilch.  Plus none of Bonnie’s online contacts had gotten back to her.  They were usually very prompt and thorough.  Was “Marceline” even her real name?  Or was a fake identity part of her stupid prank?
 
Bonnie started scrolling again, faster this time.  A bunch of pages she’d seen before.  Very little new stuff.  Nothing that told Bonnie anything about Marceline Abadeer.  
 
She slammed her laptop shut.  Ugh.  How elusive could one woman be?   
 
Bonnie shoved the laptop back into her bag and left the bathroom.  Whatever.  She had work to do.  With the fate of Pizza Sassy on her shoulders—a depressing thought—Bonnie couldn’t afford to slack off.  If this place went under, she was out of a job.  And it wasn’t like Bonnie could rely on Max to step up.  This was entirely on her. 
 
She stopped dead in her tracks, bathroom door swinging shut behind her.  
 
Marcy was sitting on the counter.  She was right next to the cash register, her legs crossed and dangling off the side.  Bonnie had never really appreciated how long and thin Marcy’s legs were.  If it wasn’t for the attitude, Marcy could have been a model.  Marcy had the grace and beauty to dazzle a runway.
 
Her eyes were closed, fingers plucking at the strings of a battered old bass.  The bass was shaped like an ax, Bonnie noticed.  Some kind of custom instrument she’d never seen before.  It looked old, like it had been through two or three generations of musical talent.  And Marcy was just sitting there strumming and humming, seemingly unaware of her surroundings.
 
Bonnie stared.  If she’d caught Finn or anyone else slacking off like that, she definitely would have reamed them for it.  If they weren’t going to be cogs in a well-oiled machine, there was no point.  And Bonnie reminded them of that every day, because she knew they needed it drilled into their heads.   
 
“Marceline,” said Bonnie.
 
She tried to sound gentle, like a mother reprimanding her kid for goofing off.  But it came off a lot more impatient than Bonnie intended.  
 
Marcy opened her eyes.  She didn’t seem surprised to see Bonnie standing there.
 
It was after closing time.  Finn was sweeping the floors, Kara was scrubbing the tables, and everyone else had gone home.  It was usually just the three—or four—of them after the place shut down.  Bonnie didn’t mind.  Less people to yell at for screwing up.  Plus staying late at Pizza Sassy gave her this warm fuzzy intimate feeling.  Or at least it used to.  Marcy had ruined a lot of Bonnie’s work-fuzzies.   
 
“Oh hey, Bon-Bon,” said Marcy.  
 
She hopped off the counter, sweeping her hair out of her face.
 
“Pretty sweet bass, right?”  said Marcy.  “Totally bayangles.”
 
Of course Marcy was right.  That bass was totally bayangles.  But Bonnie didn’t care.  She had stuff to do:  inventory, money stuff.  Bonnie was pretty sure Max was stealing supplies and crap—from his own donking restaurant—and selling them online.  But she had no proof, so Bonnie just had to pretend she didn’t notice the occasional missing cooking utensil.   
 
Bonnie went into the kitchen.  She wanted to curl up in bed with a good book or maybe get started on the other stuff she had to do.  Unsurprisingly, working at Pizza Sassy wasn’t Bonnie’s only source of stress.  She had other stuff going on.  School stuff—online classes—and her other crappy job that she did when she wasn’t working at Pizza Sassy.  Bonnie envied Finn, Kara, and Moe.  The three of them had such comparatively easy lives.  And of course Marceline just did whatever she wanted.
 
She yanked open the door of the giant walk-in freezer.  Bonnie flinched as a rush of cold air slapped her in the face.  But she journeyed bravely forward, stepping into the relative darkness of the freezer.  She’d been in there dozens of times and she still hadn’t gotten used to the cold.  It was such a different breed of cold, way more bitter and biting than the outside.  
 
Finn followed Bonnie into the kitchen and into the walk-in freezer.  Before he started working at Pizza Sassy, Finn was pretty sure only serial killers had walk-in freezers.  Those things were death traps.  Big scary wintery coffins.  
 
“Yo BB, you gotta check this out,” he said. 
 
He was pulling out his phone.  Finn glanced over his shoulder, making sure Marcy hadn’t followed him.  He could still hear the strains of her bass from where he was standing, but he could never be sure.  Marcy moved fast.  One minute she was chilling by the door, the next minute she was right behind him.  Marcy loved grabbing Finn’s shoulders and making him let out that high-pitched scream of his.  Marcy did the same thing with Bonnie, or at least she tried to.  After the third time, Bonnie just started expecting it and it stopped being fun to watch.   
 
Out of everyone there, Kara was the only person Marcy never messed with.  Probably because Marcy didn’t want to get decked in the face.  Kara could take a joke—Finn knew this from experience—but she was also a huge wimp about being startled.  The last time Finn surprised her—by accident—she almost broke his nose.  A harsh but necessary lesson.
 
Bonnie sighed.  She didn’t want to treat Finn like a child but, well, he was a child.  And like with any child, Bonnie had to choose when to indulge and when to ignore.  This seemed like a pretty okay time to indulge, given how eager Finn sounded. 
 
“Yes, Finn?”  she said.
 
Finn checked over his shoulder one last time.  Confident that Marcy wasn’t about to sneak up on him, he stepped into the walk-in freezer.  He held up his phone, a huge satisfied grin on his face.  
 
“Ba-ching!”  he said.  “I got mad proof that Marcy’s a vamp.”
 
Eyebrows raised, Bonnie turned to look at what Finn was showing her.  She squinted at the phone screen.  At first Bonnie couldn’t see anything.  It looked like Finn had somehow snapped a picture of his own phone, which didn’t make any sense.  But eventually Bonnie noticed the outline and the familiar bits of background.  It wasn’t a photo of Finn’s phone.  It was a photo of a what looked like a small compact mirror.
 
She folded her arms and stared at Finn like he was an idiot.
 
“Um, what the bunk is this biz?”  said Bonnie. 
 
Finn pointed at the phone screen, as if looking again might disclose more information.
 
“This biz is proof that I’m right,” said Finn.  “She is a vampire.  Check it:  no reflection.  I pointed the mirror right at her and she’s not there.” 
 
Bonnie wrestled with about a million things she wanted to say.  She thought they were past this.  Finn hadn’t brought it up since their last talk and Bonnie was getting comfortable looking for answers without Finn’s help.  But apparently he hadn’t let it go.
 
“Finn, that’s just your phone,” said Bonnie.  “You can’t see dip.” 
 
The smile slipping off his face, Finn checked the image on his phone.  Bonnie was right.  With the way the shot was angled, it just looked like a mirror with a phone reflected in it.  Finn had been way too quick taking that photo.  In the moment, he was thinking about how he needed some kind of photographic evidence before Bonnie would buy it.  He’d flubbed up again and now Bonnie was getting pissed at him.
 
“Dude, I saw it,” he said.  “I pointed this thing right at her and no reflection.” 
 
Shaking her head, Bonnie turned away from him.  She had her own Marceline mysteries to work out.  Finn’s conspiracy bunk wasn’t helping.
 
“Or maybe it’s broken?”  said Bonnie.  “Mirrors can be fake, Finn.” 
 
Finn pulled the compact out of his pocket.  He was a hundred percent sure that mirror wasn’t fake.  There was no way Rain would give him something that didn’t work.  Rain took this dizz seriously.  This stuff was a whole part of her life.
 
“How do you fake not having a reflection?”  said Finn. 
 
Bonnie wasn’t facing him, so he couldn’t see the look on her face.  
 
“You use, like, light or something,” she said.  “It doesn’t matter.  Maybe you just wanted her to not have a reflection.  Our brains are like that.  Sometimes we see some weird biz, dude.  That’s science.” 
 
Finn stared at the compact in his hand.  Huh.  Maybe Bonnie was right.  If someone could fake not having a reflection or rig a mirror, this wasn’t really proof.  And honestly, Finn went into this test with the outcome already in his head.  He’d mentally prepared himself for what he was ninety-percent sure was going to happen.  Even if the mirror was perfectly okay, Finn definitely could have tricked himself.  
 
He left without saying anything.  Finn wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.  Should he keep going with this vampire theory or was he reaching a dead end?  Was this all just his brain?
 
Bonnie stood in the freezer for a few more minutes.  She watched her breath evaporate, staring off into the distance.  
 
It had to have been Finn’s imagination.  Either that or it was another one of his dumb pranks.  But the second one seemed unlikely.  Even Finn wouldn’t have had the courage or the skill to keep it going for this long.  So Finn legitimately believed Marceline was a vampire.  He believed it enough to be searching for evidence.  
 
Bonnie shook her head.  Of course Marcy probably tampered with the mirror or something when Finn wasn’t looking.  Either that or—as she assumed before—it was all in Finn’s head.
 
After she finished doing inventory, Bonnie was in a pretty big hurry to get home.  It was nearing midnight and she just wanted her nice warm bed.  Bonnie didn’t bother calling Peter Butler—her roommate—and telling him she’d be home late.  He always expected her to be home at an unreasonable hour.  Sometimes he even seemed to want her to be home late.  
 
Bonnie stepped out into the cold.  She hugged herself, shuddering in the frosty night air.  It was been unseasonably warm earlier in the day, so she felt confident leaving her jacket at home.  It was still a little chilly, but Bonnie thought she could handle it.  She somehow hadn’t anticipated the nighttime chill.  She was going to freeze her ass off just walking home.  
 
She jumped as a pair of hands—cold hands—grabbed her shoulders.
 
“What the fluzz?”  said Bonnie.
 
She twisted around, slapping Marcy’s hands off her shoulders.  It was one of the few times Marcy actually got her.  Bonnie had gotten used to Marcy’s habit of jumping out at people.  Bonnie couldn’t tell if Marcy was doing it unintentionally or if it was Marcy’s silly idea of a prank.
 
Marcy held up both hands in a gesture of surrender.  She looked legitimately sorry, like she really hadn’t meant to scare Bonnie.  Of course Bonnie didn’t buy it.  That had to have been intentional.  
 
“Whoops,” said Marcy.  “My bads, Bon-Bon.  My bads.” 
 
She shoved her hands into her pockets and tilted her head up, staring up at the stars.  It was a beautiful night.  No clouds.  A sky full of stars.
 
“Nice night,” she said.  “All cold and spooky.”
 
Bonnie shivered.  Cold?  Yeah.  Spooky?  Not really.  There wasn’t anything particularly spooky about the town of Candace.  Bonnie had lived there for a while and she hadn’t seen anything even mildly interesting.  Well, except for that one time she met a girl with a prosthetic arm who was “just passing through”.  Other than that, nothing remarkable. 
 
Marcy was wearing that letterman jacket again.  The exact same one she’d been wearing that first night.  Marcy pulled it off and offered it to Bonnie.
 
“You want me to walk you home?”  she said.
 
Bonnie pushed Marcy’s hands away, shaking her head as she rejected the offered jacket.  She was cold, but not that cold.
 
“Flip no,” Bonnie said.
 
Marcy rolled her eyes.  She offered the jacket more insistently this time.
 
“Dude, just take it,” she said.  “I don’t give a badonk about where you live, okay?  Geez, Bon-Bon.  You’re such a baby.”
 
Bonnie turned and started walking off, hugging herself.  She didn’t look back as she walked, even as Marcy called after her.
 
Getting too intimate with the subject was a huge no-no for any decent scientist.  If Bonnie was going to unravel the mysteries of Marceline, she had to keep her distance.  She had to keep Marcy at arms length.  Bonnie needed to understand exactly who and what Marcy was.  And she wasn’t going to get closer by getting closer.   
 
That wasn’t how science worked most of the time.  And that was the kind of science—distant, simple, straightforward—that Bonnie loved.
 

 
Bonnie entered the dark apartment, shutting the door with her foot.
 
She stood in front of the door for a minute, hugging herself.  She really really really wished she’d taken up Marcy on that jacket offer.  The temperature had started to drop out there.  Bonnie could feel the frosty air in her bones.  She needed something hot to sip and a nice warm blanket.
 
It didn’t usually get this cold at night.  Another mystery for Bonnie to ponder, although this one wasn’t top priority.  Bonnie had enough to think about without factoring in the weather.  It wasn’t like chilly nights were some kind of impossible phenomena.  The abrupt temperature drop had just caught her off guard.  No big deal.
 
Bonnie walked into the kitchen.  She wanted to make herself some hot cocoa or something.  Anything to heat herself up.  Bonnie just could not get rid of that cold.  It was almost becoming a part of her.  There was no heat in the apartment.  They usually didn’t really need it at this time of year.  Bonnie usually snuggled up in her blanket or made herself something hot.  Interior heating was for the bitter unforgiving cold months.
 
A short man with reddish-brown hair was standing in the kitchen.  He was in front of the microwave.  The man seemed to be heating up some leftover soup.  He was watching the bowl spin around and around, his face lit up by the little patch of light emanating from the microwave.
 
At the sound of Bonnie entering the kitchen, the man spun around.  At lightning speed, he reached into his pocket and withdrew something small.  It looked like a standard pocket knife, except the blade was unusually sharp and pointed.  It vaguely reminded Bonnie of Marceline’s teeth.
 
The man flipped on the light, the knife still pointed at Bonnie’s motionless figure.  Realizing it was her, he let out a slow sigh.  The man—Peter Butler—tucked the knife back into his pocket.  He did it casually, like pointing a knife at someone was the most obvious thing in the world.  He didn’t seem to regret having probably scared the absolute crap out of her.
 
“Geez, dude,” said Bonnie.
 
Shaking her head, Bonnie walked over to the fridge.  
 
Peter smiled sheepishly.  He was the definition of a night owl.  Normally active at night, Peter went to work at about three in the morning and returned before sunrise.  He slept almost all day.  Bonnie wasn’t even sure what he did for a living.  Whatever it was, it must have paid really well.  Bonnie didn’t ask because it wasn’t her business and she was pretty sure it wasn’t anything illegal.
 
“Sorry,” said Peter. 
 
Bonnie opened the fridge and started rooting around.  She was looking for something she could heat up.  Bonnie wasn’t really in the mood for cooking.  She was never in the mood for cooking, even though Peter insisted she at least try to eat something other than takeout.
 
“Why the blomp do you have a knife?”  said Bonnie. 
 
Peter nervously shifted from foot to foot.  
 
“You might have been an intruder,” he said.
 
Bonnie shrugged.  She was too tired and cold to argue.
 
“Yeah, might have,” Bonnie agreed.
 
She finally found one of the lunches Peter had made for her.  He had a whole week’s worth in the fridge, just in case she wanted something quick and easy.  Bonnie appreciated his efforts.  If it wasn’t for him, her diet would have consisted of instant noodles and takeout.  Peter had to remind her to drink water and eat dinner when she got home.  Peter also did the majority of the cleaning and his mysterious job contributed to more than half of the rent.  Bonnie was lucky to have him.  
 
“Are you okay?”  said Peter. 
 
Bonnie was still shivering as she took the plastic container out of the fridge.  She nodded as she pried open the top, her fingers clumsy and shaking.
 
“Yeah, I’m good,” said Bonnie.  “Just cold.  Really cold.” 
 
Peter frowned.  He turned and hit Stop on the microwave.  Peter grabbed a pair of oven mitts hanging above the counter.  He popped open the microwave and reached inside, grabbing the warm bowl with his oven-mitted hands. 
 
“You need soup,” he said. 
 
Bonnie was standing in front of the closed fridge with the container.  She tried to shake her head, but another shudder raced through her body.  She just couldn’t get warm.  It was so cold in the apartment and freezing outside.  Bonnie didn’t feel any better indoors than she had walking home.  At least she could focus on walking.  Back in her own apartment, Bonnie became even more aware of the sudden and drastic plunge in temperature. 
 
“I’m fine, P-Butt,” said Bonnie. 
 
But Peter pointed at the kitchen table, his face stern.  He didn’t want to order her around—he would have never dreamed of it—but Peter was concerned.  He was always at least a little concerned about Bonnie.  Peter didn’t like how she holed herself up in her room for hours.  He didn’t like how she lost herself in her science stuff and forgot about life outside of research.  Peter knew she had school and her jobs, but it was more than that.  Peter had tried—a long time ago—to set Bonnie up on a date.  He’d tried to help her develop some kind of social life.  But of course Bonnie just ended up treating it like an experiment.
 
Bonnie didn’t have much choice.  Peter was standing between her and the microwave.  So she returned the container to the fridge and sat down.  Even if Peter hadn’t been in her way, Bonnie was too tired to argue with him.
 
Peter put the soup in front of her.  He’d made it himself from scratch.  
 
“Eat,” he said.  “You’ll feel better.”
 
Peter handed her a spoon.  Smiling, he turned away from her and went over to the cupboard.  Peter wanted to make her some nice warm tea.  He had a special brew that was perfect for Bonnie’s situation.  Something to relax her.  Peter was amazing with tea.  He made his own at home with fresh ingredients.  
 
Bonnie scooped up a spoonful of soup.  She blew on it before taking a reluctant sip.  The second the liquid hit her tongue, Bonnie felt revitalized.  It was like someone flipped all the right switches.  The cold just melted off of her, leaving her warm and comfortable.
 
“Oh my Glob, P-Butt,” said Bonnie.  “What the heck’s in this stuff?”
 
Peter was busy with the tea.  He poured some of his special brew into a teabag and tied off the end, humming to himself.
 
“Oh nothing,” said Peter.  “Veggies, herbs, spices.”
 
He glanced at Bonnie, the teabag suspended in one hand.
 
“You’ve been stressed lately,” he said.  “More than usual.  How’s work?”
 
Bonnie dropped the spoon into the bowl.  It rattled against the side, the sound punctuating Bonnie’s drawn-out groan of frustration.  Bonnie slumped a little in her chair and shook her head.  This dramatic display told Peter all he wanted to know.
 
“I’m honking tired,” she said.  “It’s Marceline.  She’s so...ugh.  She doesn’t take her work seriously at all and she’s just the blee-blopping worst.” 
 
Peter had heard all about Marceline before.  Marceline had been the subject of a very long and slightly incoherent rant.  From what Peter understood, something about Marcy had rubbed Bonnie the wrong way.
 
“I’m sure she’ll fall in line,” said Peter. 
 
That always seemed to calm Bonnie down, even if Peter didn’t believe it.  
 
Bonnie snorted.  For once, she didn’t believe that.  Nothing about Marcy indicated she was going to be less infuriating in a few days, a few months, or however long she lasted.  Maybe Marcy would keep being, well, Marcy until Bonnie unraveled the secret of her little game.
 
“And get this,” said Bonnie.  “Finn thinks she’s a vampire.  A donking vampire.  What the dizz?” 
 
Peter tensed, the teabag almost slipping from his fingers.  In some distant part of his brain, he remembered what he was supposed to be doing:  making tea for Bonnie.  He’d been about to grab a pot and fill it with water.  But Peter had mostly blanked, his queue of tasks interrupted.
 
“Oh?”  said Peter.  “Why does he think that?”
 
Bonnie focused on Peter, arching her eyebrows in surprise.  
 
“I don’t know,” she said.  “You know how Finn is.”
 
His brain starting up again, Peter grabbed a pot.  He turned on the sink and filled the pot up halfway.  Peter had decided they both needed some nice hot tea. 
 
“Well, be careful,” said Peter.  
 
Bonnie turned back to her soup, a little bewildered.  Be careful of what?  Vampires weren’t real. 
 
But Bonnie didn’t need to convince herself.  She already knew Marcy wasn’t a vampire, even if she didn’t have all the puzzle pieces.  It was Finn who needed convincing.

Chapter Text

Finn shook the bottle Rain had given him, watching the contents slosh around.

“Is this it?” he said.

He was trying to be grateful—Rain had taken time out of her schedule to help him—but he couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. Finn felt like he’d been stiffed. A whole week of waiting and this was what he had to show for it? One pill bottle of holy water?

Rain shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Making holy water wasn’t easy and she usually didn’t have the ingredients on hand. R ain didn’t have tons of extra time on her hands. She had her steady job and art projects. Rain wasn’t exactly drowning in clients, so she couldn’t afford to be selective or lazy with her commission work.

“I could make more,” she offered.

She couldn’t—she didn’t really have the time—but she didn’t like seeing Finn so beaten down. This vampire thing must have really been getting to him.

Finn shook his head, tucking the pill bottle into his backpack. He’d psyched himself up for this meeting. The second time him and Rain met without Jake’s knowledge. And there was that scummy feeling in Finn’s stomach again. At least they’d met during the day this time, so Finn felt slightly less skeevy about the whole thing.

“Nah, it’s good,” said Finn. “You do your stuff. I’ll figure something out. Something radical.”

So his initial plan—rigging up a giant tub of holy water and dousing Marcy when she came in for work—was going to be a little bit harder to pull off. Finn had to think of something more subtle. Unfortunately, being subtle wasn’t exactly in his wheelhouse. Direct action and direct results were more his style. But what the heck was he supposed to do with a pill bottle of holy water and a mirror?

He stood up and grabbed his backpack. Finn wanted to keep this professional, like a business transaction. Not that Finn knew anything about business, despite having worked since he was about fourteen. But it was usually manual labor jobs that paid under the table. Pizza Sassy was the first instance of Finn working in a field that didn’t require tons of heavy lifting.

“I’ve gotta work,” he said. “Catch you later.”

Finn threw some bills on the table to pay for his half of the drinks. He’d ordered two hot chocolates because he was feeling extra cold that day. He just had this weird chill under his skin all morning and into the afternoon. It wasn’t even an especially cold day. But Finn was bundled up in a thick sweater and jeans. Even the exertion of work hadn’t warmed him up.

He left quickly, pulling up the collar of his jacket. He’d wasted—or at least it felt like a waste—his entire lunch break for this. Now Finn was hungry, a little tired, and cold. He almost wanted to skip work and go straight home.

Finn trudged back to his job. He knew he was being too hard on Rain. She was trying her best and he appreciated every second she spent trying to help him. But Bonnie had really gotten into Finn’s head. He was doubting himself and that just made him feel bad. He wanted to believe he could trust his own judgment and his own eyes, but Bonnie was telling him that neither of those things were true. So did Finn trust himself or did he trust Bonnie? Why did it have to be a choice?

Finn and the crew were moving furniture into a newly-renovated house. Finn was walking slower than usual, so he was a little late coming back from lunch. By the time he showed up, everyone else was already getting started.

He spotted Kara hauling a heavy couch into the house. Finn rushed to help, even though she seemed to be doing fine on her own. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t handle it. Finn had worked with Kara long enough to know she was more than capable. It was Kara who got him the job at Pizza Sassy—it was her recommendation that got Finn bumped up for consideration—and they were work buddies even before that.

“Late,” said Kara.

Finn blushed. He was only about one or two minutes late, but even that was out of the ordinary. It wasn’t his fault. He’d gotten swept up in his conversation with Rain. As it turned out, Rain knew a lot about vampires. A lot more than she could have covered in a single lunch break.

“My bad,” said Finn.

Kara had once worked as a security guard at a science lab or something. She knew the importance of being prompt and responsible. Moving heavy stuff and making deliveries was a step down from security guard, but the pay was okay and Kara could handle the lifting. Like Finn, she seemed to enjoy the hard grueling labor.

They got the couch into the house and placed it against the wall. This was a big house. Bigger than anything Kara or Finn could have afforded. The living room was larger than Finn and Jake’s apartment.

Finn rubbed the back of his neck. There was a reason he’d sort of tagged along with Kara. Finn didn’t want the rest of the crew—especially Monica, his extremely well-muscled boss—overhearing this conversation. Finn knew his boss was just itching for a reason to kick him off the crew. She appreciated his work ethic, but Finn was still a kid. From Monica’s point of view, she was doing Finn a favor by letting him do the work of a full grown adult man and paying him for it. If Finn hadn’t proven himself, there was no way Monica would have even considered letting him join her crew.

“Hey, Kara,” said Finn.

Kara was already heading back outside. She’d hardly worked up a sweat. Kara kind of admired Finn. He looked so scrawny and weak, but he could lift like a pro. Plus Finn worked harder than anyone else on the crew. No wonder Monica hired him.

Impatient, Kara turned around. They had a full day of work ahead and Finn wanted to talk? Couldn’t this wait until they were done for the day? They could have grabbed dinner after work or something. But Kara could tell that Finn had something big on his mind, something that was eating away at him.

“Finn?” said Kara.

Finn perched on the arm of the couch. He had to get it over with. He couldn’t spend the next hour trying to figure out what to say.

“There’s something really banyangles about Marcy,” he said.

He explained what he’d been trying to gather evidence and how it wasn’t going too well. After the mirror test, Finn had really started to feel like he was losing it. If he couldn’t trust his eyes—as Bonnie suggested—what or who could he trust? There had to be a way to find concrete physical evidence.

Kara frowned. She walked over to Finn and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a reassuring embrace.

“Bonnie is a dum-dum,” she said.

Finn looked at her in shock. Kara had never said anything bad about, well, anyone. But then again, Kara didn’t really like to talk about people behind their backs. Maybe this was something Kara had felt all along, but now seemed like the best time to express it?

“She’s, like, the smarts!” said Finn. “She’s got mad brain skills. She says big sciency words all the time.”

B onnie was the smartest person he knew. Jake was brimming with older brother wisdom and Kara knew about construction work, but Bonnie was a powerhouse of information. She knew how to fix stuff, she did science all the time, and she was amazing with computers. The trifecta of human brain power.

Kara slid her arm off Finn’s shoulders and shrugged. She understood where Finn was coming from. After all, Kara’s girlfriend was a scientist. She knew what it was like to feel like someone she loved had all the answers. But as difficult as it was for Kara to learn this, cute nerdy girls weren’t the apex of intelligence. There was always something in between or off to the side. That in itself was a big part of science, as Kara’s girlfriend—Frieda--explained to her.

“Sometimes science is bad,” said Kara. “Sometimes there’s more than big words and pretty flashing lights.”

S he tapped the side of her head, as if to make a point. Kara didn’t usually think about the accident—she barely remembered it—but sometimes it just struck her. Dr. Gross—the doctor who treated her after the accident—had told her that this level of memory loss was normal. If it hadn’t been for that implant in her head, Kara probably wouldn’t have survived. Or at the very least, she wouldn’t have been able to walk and talk. She didn’t fully understand the technology that had saved her life, but she was eternally grateful. Dr. Gross had really stepped up for her former student, footing the bill for that incredibly expensive operation and the tech involved.

Life would have been very different if Kara hadn’t crashed that boat and ended up in the hospital. For one thing, she probably wouldn’t have met Finn.

“So you think Marcy’s a vampire?” said Finn.

He was excited to have someone else in his corner. Maybe if enough people believed him, Bonnie would have to give up.

Kara furrowed her brow.

“I think there’s something about her,” she said.

She rubbed her hands together, like she was trying to get warm again.

“Cold,” she said. “Very cold.”

F inn shivered. He thought the exertion would warm him up, but he was still chilly. It was like his body was rejecting any source of heat. Everyone else seemed fine—Monica was even wearing a short-sleeved shirt and she seemed okay—but Finn wanted to put on more layers and snuggle under a blanket. He was pretty sure Bonnie was in the same boat—he’d noticed her shivering—and he’d considered asking her about it. If Kara was feeling the cold too, maybe there was something going around.

“Back to work,” said Kara.

She hurried outside. She didn’t wait for Finn to follow her. The last thing Kara needed was to get reprimanded for slacking off. They were on a time limit. Monica would be pissed if Kara and Finn held everyone up.

Finn hopped off the couch. He trailed behind Kara, less enthusiastic about work for the first time in his life. The frosty air in his bones was making him slightly lethargic. Finn wanted to head home and get some rest.

He told himself he was fine. If he just pushed through and did his job, he’d feel a lot better. There was no reason to piss off Monica. There was no reason to make Jake worry about him. Everything was okay.

B onnie hunched over the register, hugging herself.

Crap. She thought she’d feel better by the end of the day, but she still had that chill running up and down her bones. It was like her body was just refusing to accept heat, which made zero sense. Other than that frost living under her skin, Bonnie felt totally fine. Peter had checked her out before she left the apartment: blood pressure was normal, no muscle or joint pain, no headaches, no lethargy. In fact, Bonnie felt like she’d been injected with weapons-grade enthusiasm. She was just cold.

Peter’s soup was the only thing that helped. He’d made a huge thermos of the stuff for her. Bonnie had eaten half of it during her lunch break. She was still working her way through the other half, taking long sips every few minutes as she went about her day.

Bonnie reached for her thermos—it was pink of course—but she abruptly withdrew her hand. Crap. Crap. CRAP. Of course she left it in the kitchen.

It was after closing. Max had bolted almost immediately, shouting something about his marriage license. Bonnie had decided that her life would be a lot easier if she only listened to half of what Max said, so she wasn’t exactly sure why he’d been in a hurry. But as usual, Bonnie was left with all of the hard after-closing work. Finn and Kara were cleaning up. Everyone else—including Moe—had already left. And Marcy was being, well, Marcy. Bonnie didn’t even want to know where Marcy had wandered off to.

Finn came out of the kitchen. He was undoing his ponytail and singing to himself.

Bonnie looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was being his normal self, but Bonnie had noticed him shivering. He must have been cold. Was this some weird new bug going around? Had they caught a bad something from Marceline?

Ugh. Things had been so simple and okay before Marcy showed up. Everyone stayed on top of their duties, everyone was healthy, no one was talking about supernatural bullshit. What happened to that? When did Bonnie’s life turn into a big pile of this? Marceline had thrown off their entire team dynamic. If Bonnie had believed in astrology and all that stuff, she would have said that Marcy was disrupting all of their auras or something like that.

Bonnie clutched the cash register with one hand, the other clenching and un-clenching on the flat counter top. Screw. This. The next chance she got, Bonnie was confronting Max. She was going to demand that Max fire Marcy’s cursed ass. If Marcy just left, thing s would go back to the way they were. Everything would be fine. They could pretend she never came into their lives. Deep down, wasn’t that what they all—Kara, Finn, and Bonnie—wanted? And everyone else—the entire kitchen staff—had to want that too. Bonnie couldn’t be the only one who felt all of this.

Bonnie sucked in a deep steadying breath, rolling all the frustration inside of her into a little ball. She took that ball and crammed it somewhere deep inside her chest cavity.

Finn shook out his hair. He’d cut it a dozen times in the past—mostly for charity—but he always ended up letting it grow out again. Finn couldn’t be satisfied with short hair. It just clashed with his nature. And Jake never pushed him to do anything with it, so Finn let it grow out and sometimes he brushed it. It had never been a problem for him, except when he had to tie it up like that.

“Heading out, BB,” he said.

B onnie nodded. Finn was a kid, so she tried not to keep him out too late after Pizza Sassy closed. She knew that not getting enough sleep was detrimental to a teenager’s development.

“Be safe,” said Bonnie.

Finn blushed, even though Bonnie said that to him every time. He pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head and tucked his hands into the pockets.

Marcy emerged from the kitchen. She grinned at Bonnie, like she knew Bonnie was thinking about her. After over two weeks, Marcy must have realized that Bonnie hated her guts. Well, maybe “hate” was a strong word. Mostly, Bonnie just wished Marcy’s guts—and the rest of her—would leave forever. And Marcy must have picked up on that.

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing into the doorway she’d just exited.

“Woof,” said Marcy. “Guess she’s all tuckered out.”

She had to be talking about Kara. Everyone else had gone home. It was amazing how most of the kitchen staff cleared out so quickly after closing. Not that they had much of a kitchen staff. It was Kara, Moe, a weird little guy named Buddy Cinnerman, and a good friend of Max called Tommy. Half of them barely did their jobs.

“Aw geez,” said Finn.

He rushed back into the kitchen, almost shoving Marcy aside. Having once been a security guard, Kara was used to working late hours. But sometimes she forgot to sleep, especially when Frieda was out of town. She’d been working really hard for that entire week—it was Friday—and her body just couldn’t take it.

Marcy put her elbows on the counter, smiling and propping up her head on her hands.

“Hello Bonnibel,” she said.

Bonnie pretended to be busy with the cash register. She’d finished a few minutes ago, but she hoped Marcy would take the hint.

“What do you want, Marceline?” she said.

She emphasized the use of Marcy’s full name. She hoped it would get her point across. It was a little trick her aunt and uncle used to pull when they wanted to express how disappointed they were. It had never really stopped working on her. Bonnie still felt her stomach drop every time an authority figure casually tossed out “Bonnibel”.

Marcy turned around and leaned on the counter, propping herself up with both hands.

“Wow,” she said. “Just wow. Can’t we just talk, BB? Why you gotta be so mean?”

Bonnie wasn’t in the mood for whatever weird game Marcy was playing. She’d had a long day and she was cold for no reason. Couldn’t Marcy lay off tonight? Couldn’t everyone? Bonnie just wanted the whole world to leave her alone. But instead the world was shoving Marcy at her like the universe was intentionally trying to piss her off.

“I’m doing my job,” said Bonnie. “Maybe you should give it a try.”

Marcy leaned her head back, her long hair falling over her neck and the counter. Maybe Bonnie was seeing things—she was tired, so probably—but she was pretty sure no one could tilt their head that far back without breaking something.

“Ugh,” said Marcy. “You’re so boring. You need to, like, get drunk or something.”

B onnie slammed the register closed. The sound bounced around her ears, going off like a cannon blast in the quiet room.

“Excuse me?” she said. “You don’t think I donking want to relax? Let my hair down and just go blooby-blob nutso? We can’t all be like you, Marceline.”

Marcy adjusted her position, turning around to look at Bonnie. She actually looked concerned, like she was invested in Bonnie’s well-being.

Throughout the many days they’d worked together, Bonnie had walked a thin line between what she wanted to say and her understanding of polite conversation. Bonnie knew that yelling at her fellow employees wasn’t conducive to a safe healthy work environment, so she just balled it up and kept it stashed inside of herself. But for the first time, Bonnie wasn’t sure she even wanted to yell at Marcy. That genuine concern—the concern of a friend—was making her doubt herself. It almost felt manipulative, but Bonnie searched Marcy’s face and couldn’t find a single hint of insincerity. Marcy was being for real.

“Sure you can, Bonnibel,” Marcy said. “You just won’t let yourself.”

Bonnie tried to fire back with denial, but she just couldn’t. Annoyingly, Marcy was right. It had been a long time since Bonnie let herself go. If it wasn’t school, it was science stuff. If it wasn’t science stuff, it was work. If it was none of those things, it was some other thing that popped into Bonnie’s head when she was trying to actually relax. It was just an endless cycle of things. And maybe Marcy didn’t grasp the full scope of it because she didn’t know everything, but she got the gist of it. Marcy understood stress.

“Shut up,” was all Bonnie could say.

But she sounded as defeated as she felt. Marcy might have been, well, every single thing that pissed Bonnie off, but there was something about her. Something that at least slightly realized what Bonnie was going through. Not enough to become a well of empathy, but enough to recognize it as a detriment to Bonnie’s mental health.

“Whatever, ya donk,” said Marcy.

She turned away, flipping her hair over her shoulder like a runway model.

“Gotta jet, boss,” she said. “Stuff to do. Vampire stuff.”

And just like that—switch flipped—that little ball of frustration in Bonnie’s chest expanded. It broke right through her cold rib cage, shattering everything inside her chest as it ballooned to five times its original size. Pure congealed stress. Bonnie could almost taste it on her tongue—gross and sticky and sharp like earwax—as she spoke, her voice rising angrily.

“You’re bananas,” she said. “How many times do I have to say this? Vampires. Aren’t. Real. What the dip is…”

Before Marcy could finish her thought, she heard a commotion from the kitchen. Remembering that Finn and Kara were in there, she turned towards the doorway.

Kara came barreling out of the kitchen. She was panting like she’d just run a mile, her chest heaving. Bonnie often forgot how big Kara was. Kara was tall and muscular, more like a tree than a human being. Her and Finn had once teamed up to move an industrial-size fridge into the kitchen. Bonnie and Max had contributed, but neither of them felt like they’d really done anything. Among the many heavy-lifting jobs Kara had worked throughout her life, she’d once been in charge of moving massive kitchen appliances and she’d done some construction work. Bonnie had no reason to doubt Kara’s track record.

“Kara?” said Bonnie.

Kara was staring straight ahead and clutching the door frame. There was something wrong with her eyes, although Bonnie assumed it was a trick of the light at first. But nope. It wasn’t just the light or anything equally explainable. Kara’s eyes had a strange emptiness to them, a soft green glow pulsing in her eye sockets.

Bonnie tried to rush towards her, her brow furrowed with concern. She didn’t really register Kara’s body language.

Marcy almost threw herself in Bonnie’s direction. She grabbed Bonnie’s shoulders and held her back.

“Dude, no,” she said.

Bonnie didn’t say anything. She didn’t even fight against Marcy’s grip. She just sagged into Marcy’s arms, her eyes focused on Kara. She had no idea how she was supposed to react to whatever the heck was happening. The sight of Kara—massive and totally capable of breaking her spine—had temporarily shut off the logic centers of Bonnie’s brain.

Finn rushed out of the kitchen. He ran right into Kara—she was blocking the entire doorway—and almost stumbled backwards.

“Oh dip, oh dip, oh dip,”he said.

Before he could move, Kara reached over and snagged him by his hoodie. Expressionless, Kara lifted Finn into the air by his hood. Finn might have been strong for a teenager, but Kara was taller and probably three times stronger than him. She was able to lift him off his feet with one hand. Kara fastened the other hand around Finn’s neck, pressing it against his throat like she was trying to squeeze the life out of him.

“No!” shouted Bonnie.

She had no idea what was going on, but she wasn’t going to let Finn die inside Pizza Sassy. If there was one good thing to say about Pizza Sassy, it was the fact that—as far as Bonnie knew—no one had ever died there. That had to count for something, right? And if there was going to be a death in this place, it definitely wasn’t going to be Finn.

Bonnie whipped her head around, searching for something she could use. A tray, a mop, anything. Something heavy that she could swing at Kara’s head. Bonnie probably couldn’t knock Kara out in one hit, but she could knock her off balance or distract her. Bonnie wasn’t sure where she planned to go from there, but it was the best she could come up with.

“Are you flipping kidding me?” said Marcy. “Not cool, man.”

She raised both of her arms, an exasperated look on her face.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “You wanna do this here? Whatever. Bring it on, you butt.”

Bonnie blinked. Okay, she was clearly going nuts and having a totally bongo-beans hallucination. Or she’d tripped and smacked her head against something and this was all a horrible nightmare. Heck, maybe she was in a coma.

Marcy’s face was changing. It was twisting and distorting like an image in a funhouse mirror. She was growing, her teeth sharpening and elongating like massive fangs. A pair of long scraggly wings burst out of her back, ripping the fabric of Marcy’s shirt as they sprouted. Her whole body was shifting and rippling, but it looked strangely natural. There was a fluidity to it, like Bonnie was watching the evolution of an animal in fast motion. But instead of watching an animal slowly take on its final form, Bonnie was watching a woman transform into a long-limbed bat creature.

A snarl rippling in its throat, the creature that had once been Marcy flung itself at Kara. Its wings seemed to flex as it propelled itself forward.

Kara turned immediately towards Marcy and dropped Finn. She swung her massive arm in an arc, trying to knock Marcy back. But Marcy dodged and tackled her, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Kara was huge, but Marcy was enormous and she had fangs. Unfair advantage in any fight.

Finn hit the ground and rolled away from them, gasping and clutching his throat.

Marcy was pinning Kara to the ground, or at least trying to. Even in her bat form, she could tell Kara had an advantage. Everyone knew Kara was strong, but this wasn’t just Kara’s usual level of terrifying strength. This was something way worse, something almost superhuman. It was like someone took regular Kara and injected her with super serum.

Kara swung her arm upward, clocking Marcy right in the face. Marcy recoiled from the blow.

“No fair,”said Marcy.

She growled, baring her pointy teeth. Her voice sounded disturbingly normal. Marcy grabbed Kara by the shirt and straightened up, lifting Kara into the air like she weighed nothing. Laughing, Marcy turned away from the kitchen. In one smooth quick motion, she swung her arm back like she was winding up to throw a baseball and hurled Kara across the room.

“Bye, ya donk!” said Marcy.

Kara hit the opposite wall and slid to the floor. She slumped, her head falling forward like she’d passed out. Several cute-sy paintings of pizza tumbled off their nails and fell to the floor. Max had bought and hung those himself. Bonnie could tell because the frames immediately fell apart the second they hit the floor.

Laughing, Marcy returned to her original form. She shrank, the pointy ears retracting back into her head, the lower half of her face smoothing out, her pointy teeth—except the canines—returning to their usual smoothness. In less than a minute, she was back to being just plain old—sort of—Marceline Abadeer. Well, except the clothes. Marcy had practically shredded her jacket and shirt, although the jeans were holding up pretty well.

“Geez,” said Marcy.

She chuckled nervously, smoothing a few stray strands of hair out of her face.

Finn jumped to his feet, dragging a hand across his bruised neck. His focus narrowing, Finn darted past Marcy. He had to make sure Kara was okay. She was a tough woman—maybe the toughest—but she’d hit that wall hard. There had to be some internal bleeding or possibly even a broken spine. No one was perfectly alright-and-dandy after hitting a wall like that.

Bonnie grabbed her chest, scrunching the fabric of her shirt. Oh Grod. This was it. She was finally having a heart attack. It had a good run. The poor thing had been chugging along like a champ for nineteen whole years. It deserved a nice long break.

“What the bunk?” Bonnie said.

Marcy turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s fine,” said Marcy.

Bonnie balled her fists into her hair and shut her eyes. No no no no NO. This wasn’t happening. Oh G lob. There was no way any of this was happening. Everything was so normal. It was so normal. Less than ten minutes ago, Bonnie was all ready to go home, relax, and forget about Marceline. How was this happening? How in Glob’s name was any of this real?

“Fine?” Bonnie shouted. “None of this is donking fine. Kara just tried to flipping kill Finn and I’m pretty sure she was on drugs. Actually, I think I’m on drugs. Because I just saw you turn into a freaking bat thing...”

Marcy grabbed Bonnie’s shoulders to hold her steady.

“Whoa there,” she said. “Dude, your heart’s gonna explode. Sit down. Drink some water. Just chill.”

Bonnie shoved Marcy away. She couldn’t deal with this right now. In fact, she couldn’t deal with this ever. If Bonnie could just go home and never have to see or speak to anyone ever again, that would be great. If she could walk right out of Candace and hitchhike a hundred miles away from this place, that would be better. Forget Finn. Forget Marcy. Forget Pizza Sassy. Forget Max. Forget Peter. Bonnie didn’t even want to grab her science stuff before she left.

“Chill?” she said. “How the bunk am I supposed to chill? This is insane. It’s—it’s not scientifically possible! None of this is scientifically possible!”

Finn pressed two fingers against Kara’s neck. At the sound of her pulse, his own heartbeat sped up. Thank Glob. She was actually alive. Maybe bruised and with a ton of bad stuff going on, but at least she was breathing.

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. Finn’s hands shook as he unlocked it, the phone almost slipping from his sweaty palms. But he held on, desperately trying to remember how to call the hospital. Finn’s brain had gone totally blank. He couldn’t even remember Jake’s phone number, let alone that incredibly simple number for emergency services. Did he even have it in his contacts?

“We gotta call someone,” said Finn.

His face was wet. Sometime between checking Kara’s pulse and grabbing his phone, Finn had started crying. He dragged his arm across his face, smearing a gross mixture of snot and tears all over his face. Finn almost choked on the violent sobs bubbling in his throat. It was times like this that Finn remembered he was a kid. He was only seventeen. He’d never known his birth parents and he’d spent very little time with his adopted ones. Jake had tried his best, but he hadn’t prepared Finn for any of this.

Bonnie spread her arms in exasperation. She was at the end of her rope and dangling over the edge of a cliff. How did she even classify this? Was it a “workplace accident”? Or was this “aggravated assault of a minor”?

“Call who, Finn?” said Bonnie. “The dipping cops?”

Marcy walked—well, floated—over to Finn. She grabbed his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. The phone slipped out of Finn’s sweaty hand, but neither of them noticed. Neither of them cared about a stupid phone.

“Chill out,” said Marcy. “I have a guy.”

Finn sniffed, retracting snot back into his nose. He’d never seen someone get hurt before. Well, he’d heard of—and witnessed—a few minor workplace injuries. Sometimes Monica and her team bit off more than they could chew. And sometimes the kitchen staff at Pizza Sassy got too cocky or careless with hot oil. But this was nothing compared to a few burns or a broken foot.

“We have to help her,” said Finn.

The words came out in a muffled croak, his throat dry.

Marcy nudged Kara’s unconscious body with her foot. She didn’t seem to share Finn’s concern. If Finn had been in a more stable state of mind, he probably would have been enraged by her callous behavior.

“She’s not hurt,” said Marcy. “And she’s not dead. I’ve seen this before. She’ll be up and okay in about ten minutes. Might want to stay off her feet for a few days.”

Bonnie sprinted across the room, her face practically twisted with rage. She stopped just short of grabbing Marcy by the collar and shaking her.

“What do you mean you’ve seen this before?” Bonnie said. “What the flip is going on? What did you give her?”

Marcy stepped back. Immortal being or not, she did not like this aggression. Maybe she was misreading the situation, but Marcy was getting the sense that Bonnie was not exactly thrilled with her heroics. Seriously? Marcy stuck her neck out to save all of their lives and this was her thanks? Wow.

“Didn’t give her anything, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “Did you not see those eyes?”

Marcy grabbed Kara’s hair, forcing her head up. Kara was still unconscious and breathing in slow, shallow breaths. There was no blood and nothing to suggest any kind of head injury. Maybe Marcy was right.

“Girl was possessed,” said Marcy. “Case closed.”

She let go of Kara’s head.

Bonnie rubbed her face. Funny. She’d had a nightmare just like this a few months ago, except instead of Marcy it was a giant slice of pizza. And instead of whatever the heck just happened, the floor had turned into a lake of bubbling cheese and Max was standing to the side dressed like an old-school depiction of Death. That dream kind of got away from her near the end.

“Possessed?” she said. “Like what? A demon?”

Marcy rolled her eyes.

“Um, duh,”she said. “Are you even paying attention? This is first day stuff, Bonnibel. I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Bonnie opened her mouth, but Marcy waved a hand to stop her.

“No such things as demons, drugs, this is a dream, blah blah blah,” said Marcy. “Whatever. Let’s just go see my guy, okay? He’ll know what to do.”

Marcy hoisted one of Kara’s massive arms over her shoulder. Struggling, she managed to drag the unconscious Kara to her feet. Marcy was momentarily thrown off by how much Kara weighed, but she quickly got used to the bulk. It wasn’t a difficult adjustment. And the weight was mostly muscle.

Finn rushed to help, securing Kara’s other arm over his shoulder. It was an awkward position, but it worked. With their combined effort, they were able to start dragging Kara’s body towards the front door.

“Where the stuff are you guys going?” said Bonnie.

She directed the question at Finn, because she knew Marcy wasn’t going to give her a good answer.

Finn just grunted and looked away. He didn’t have a good grasp on what was going on, but that didn’t matter. The only thing Finn needed to know was that his friend was in trouble. His friend was in trouble and someone knew how to fix her. If the roles had shifted and it had been Jake and Finn, Jake would have been hauling ass out of there the second Marcy said she could help. Maybe it was cheesy of him, but Finn considered Kara to be a part of his family. Kara didn’t have any family of her own, other than maybe the dozens of people from the commune. But Kara had left those people behind—or at least she’d left most of them—and she’d stayed with Finn.

“To get my guy,” said Marcy. “Keep up, Bonnie.”

Bonnie took a single step backward, like she was going to make a beeline for the counter. But she realized that she had zero options. The cops weren’t going to believe a word of this. Bonnie was still trying to piece it together in her head and she wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t on drugs or something. Maybe Marcy slipped something into her thermos as a prank. Maybe Marcy had given the same thing to Kara and Finn was playing along because he was just a kid.

If this really was a drug trip or something, Bonnie couldn’t stay at Pizza Sassy and wait for it to blow over. She needed to stick with Finn. If this was Marcy’s idea of an elaborate prank, there was no way to know what messed up crap she might do to Finn or Kara.

Bonnie followed them out of Pizza Sassy. The night was a lot less cold, but just about as dark and spooky.

Chapter Text

Whoever Marcy’s friend was, they lived a little ways out of Candace.
 
Bonnie hardly noticed the length of the walk.  She was too busy staring at the back of Marcy’s head.  Even though the chill had left, Bonnie was hugging herself.  She felt like she might drift off if she let go of herself for too long.  But Marcy and Finn were happily chatting like this was some kind of fun nighttime outing.  Bonnie really didn’t get those two.
 
“Dude, that was banyangles,” said Finn.  “Why aren’t you a bat, like, all the time?”
 
Marcy laughed.  
 
“Shut up, man,” she said.  “You would have pissed your little boy pants if I showed up for my first day all batty.  Just like you messed your shorts when you saw these sexy fangs of mine.”
 
Finn slightly shifted Kara’s arm on his shoulder.  He was getting tired, but he hadn’t slowed down.  This was just like lugging around heavy furniture.  It got exhausting after a while, but Finn kept pushing himself.  Aching muscles seemed like a fair price to pay for giving one hundred-and-ten percent.
 
“Nice try,” said Finn.  “I haven’t messed my shorts since I was a bibby-babs.  I bet you pissed your pants.” 
 
Marcy shrugged.
 
“Well, I’m kind of undead, so…,” she said.
 
Finn furrowed his brow.  Surprisingly, that was the part that kept slipping his mind.  After all, how often did you meet an undead lady?  Especially a super cool undead lady who saved your life.   
 
“Oh yeah,” he said.  “What’s with that biz?”
 
Marcy thought for a minute.  She could hear Kara’s feet dragging behind them.  She would have asked Bonnie to help, but she had a feeling this wasn’t the best time to engage.  Marcy understood.  This was a lot to take in, even though it shouldn’t have been.  Marcy was a vampire and Kara had been possessed.  What was so hard about that?  Why couldn’t Bonnie just deal with it?   
 
“I’m actually a half-demon who got bitten by a vampire,” said Marcy.  “Totes different.”  
 
Finn nodded, even though he had zero clue what she was talking about.  He filed that away for later.  Finn already had a billion questions to ask Marcy and another thousand for this friend of hers.  Plus he had to smooth some stuff over with Bonnie and untangle the mess in his head.  It was going to be a very long, very weird night.
 
“So you think Kara will be okay?”  said Finn.
 
He was sure he’d asked that ten or twelve times, but he didn’t give a crap if he was grating on Marcy’s nerves.  Finn knew it wasn’t on him to fix this, but he partially blamed himself for Kara getting hurt.  He should have realized something was off.  He should have run right out of that kitchen and asked for Bonnie’s help when he noticed something was weird about Kara.  So why did Finn stick around and let Kara grab him?  What was even running through his head?  He hardly remembered.  It was all just a blur.  One second he was standing in front of Kara, the next second his feet weren’t on the floor.  It was nuts.   
 
“Probs,” said Marcy.  “My friend is a total egghead.  If he doesn’t know what to do, we’re seriously shamanyles.” 
 
Finn glanced at Kara.
 
Kara seemed to be waking up a little, but she was still out of it.  She was blinking a lot and staring straight ahead, her mouth slightly open and her hair falling over her face.  Too dazed to walk or move her arms.  What the heck did that demon-thing do to her?   
 
“Seriously shamanyles,” Finn echoed.
 
Eventually, they reached the house.  It was huge.  A literal mansion flanked by intimidating towers and massive triangle-shaped windows.  It almost looked like someone had taken a Victorian-era castle and plopped it down outside Candace.  There were a few modern touches—a very attractive paint job, plus a bunch of fake flowers and penguin-shaped lawn ornaments out front—but otherwise it was like something from an old horror movie.  In the light of the moon, it looked serene and dead.
 
“Mathematical,” Finn said.   
 
They trooped up to the front door.  It didn’t look like anyone was home.  There were no lights on, no car parked at the end of the long driveway.  If it hadn’t been for the well-groomed lawn, Finn would have assumed the place was abandoned. 
 
Marcy slid Kara’s arm off her shoulder and floated up to the door.  Seeing her like that—her hair streaming behind her, her feet several inches off the ground—made Finn shudder.  In the almost pitch black night, Marcy looked like a specter or a vision from one of Finn’s nightmares.  And Finn didn’t like how her eyes flashed red when she reached to knock on the door.
 
“Yo, you butt!”  Marcy said.  “It’s Marceline!”
 
The door opened a crack, like the person behind it had been waiting for them.  Now that Finn thought about it, he’d seen something—a tiny flash of movement—in the window nearest to the door.  Someone had been watching them through the curtain.  That made sense.  What kind of weirdo lived in a house like this?   
 
A man with messy long white hair and a white beard peeked out from the opening.  Maybe it was the lighting, but his skin seemed to have a vague blue tinge to it.  
 
“Marceline?”  he said. 
 
Marcy jerked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the people standing behind her.  
 
“Is it okay if we come in?”  she said.  “Tonight’s been totally bonzo.” 
 
The man opened the door wider.  He was wearing blue pajamas and his feet were bare.  He’d probably been asleep or something before Marcy and the others arrived.  Finn and Bonnie couldn’t quite peg his age.  They’d both assumed he was elderly due to the beard and the hair, but his face wasn’t wrinkled or otherwise marked by age.  And now that he was standing fully in the doorway, that slight blue tinge became even more obvious.
 
Marcy shoved the door open and marched—well, floated—inside.  She was acting like she ran the place, which was probably a hundred miles from the truth.  There was no way Marcy would live in a creepy old mansion.  Didn’t really fit her punk rock vibe.  Creepy old Victorian-style mansions were more hard goth than punk.   
 
“Thanks,” she said.  “I owe you.”
 
The man didn’t answer.  He was staring at Kara, his brow furrowed.  Even on the most normal night ever, it would have looked bizarre:  a teenage boy supporting the somewhat limp body of a burly grown woman.  It wasn’t even creepy.  It was just all kinds of weird.   
 
“Bring her into the library,” he said.
 
They did as they were instructed, Marcy taking up her share of the work.  Bonnie trailed behind, her arms folded.  Bonnie said nothing as they navigated a confusing series of hallways until they found the library.
 
The library was probably the biggest room in the house.  Floor to ceiling bookshelves, massive cathedral-style windows, comfy armchairs stuffed into every corner, a beautiful plush carpet that made weird noises under their feet.  There was even some gym equipment, two computers, and a desk.  Bonnie had never been more envious in her life.  She would have killed for something like this in her apartment.
 
Finn and Marcy settled Kara into the nearest comfy armchair.  Kara fell heavily into the chair, groaning as her head lolled forward.  She looked both dead and not dead, her body unusually limp but her heart still beating in her chest.  Apparently being possessed just sapped ninety-percent of your energy.  Kara had plenty of time to recharge, but she was still running on less than five percent battery.   
 
Marcy gestured towards the man.
 
“This is Simon,” she said.  “He’s my, uh, friend.  We’ve known each other for a while.”
 
She looked away.  There was obviously a story there—a long interesting story—but Marcy didn’t want to tell it.  They had better stuff to focus on.
 
Simon hurried over to one of the shelves.  There was no catalog or directory, but that was fine.  Simon had memorized the title and place of every single book in the library.  This was all his personal collection.  The result of a lifetime spent scouring the globe for everything and anything related to obscure topics.  Most of those books were one of a kind.  Ancient tomes seen by only a few select people throughout human history.  Simon wasn’t one of the chosen, but he was one hell of a collector.   
 
He grabbed a thick book off the shelf.  This one had a bunch of loose papers stuffed into it.  Diagrams and photographs.  There were a few actual pages missing, but Simon smiled as he flipped the book open.  
 
Marcy perched on the back of Kara’s armchair.
 
“Simon’s been doing this stuff for years,” she said.  “The stuff he’s found is, like, all the way nutso.  Way more nutso than me.”
 
Simon spoke without looking up from his book.  He didn’t seem to notice the loose papers falling from the pages as he flipped through.
 
“That’s a matter of opinion,” he said.  “As a singular specimen, I can say that you are, in my scientific opinion, completely bonzo.  Your physical make-up is unlike at least ninety-percent of the weird peeps I’ve ever studied.”
 
He finally found the page he needed.  Simon turned the open book towards Finn and the others, pointing at the page.  It seemed to be a detailed diagram of a creature.  A rotting skeletal monster wearing tattered clothes, its eyes glowing with the exact same kind of weird light they’d all seen in Kara’s eyes.  The creature was massive—at least according to the height given in centimeters on the right side of the diagram—and its face was nightmarish.  The longer Finn looked, the more he started to get a headache.
 
“What the junk is that?”  said Bonnie. 
 
The first words she’d spoken since they left Pizza Sassy.  The craziness of the night was finally catching up with her.  It occurred to her that they’d gone from the pizza place to a weird mansion outside Candace.  And now they were all gathered around an old-yet-maybe-not-old man as he showed them a drawing of some weird creature that defied all scientific logic.  If this night got any more insane, Bonnie might completely lose it.
 
“A demon,” said Simon.
 
He handed Finn the book.  Simon turned back to the shelves, running his fingers over the books as he searched for something else.
 
“He has many names,” Simon continued.  “I believe he was first referred to as “The Green Death”.  He’s disappeared and reappeared a dozen times throughout the course of history.  I’ve seen his face in ancient murals and cave drawings.  He’s even been mentioned in certain ancient texts.  Based on my own research, I believe his existence predates humanity and maybe all we’ve come to know as the universe.”
 
Bonnie snorted.
 
“That’s bonzo,” she said.  “If this thing has existed for that long, how have I never heard of it?”
 
Simon pulled another book from the shelf.  He flipped it open to the middle and plucked a loose piece of yellowed paper out of it.
 
“I’ve been tracking this demon for a very long time,” he said.  “I’m not sure what it calls itself.  But most people I’ve met refer to it as “The Lich”.
 
Bonnie folded her arms.
 
“You didn’t answer my question, dingus,” she said.  “How come I’m just finding this out now?  If it’s real, how come I've never heard about it?”
 
Marcy rolled her eyes.  She reclined in midair, her long hair almost touching the floor.  Bonnie was never going to get used to, well, any of this.  But Bonnie kept being caught off balance by the sheer impossibility of everything Marcy did.
 
“You’re not the center of the world, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.  “Simon’s been a myth-head for a long flipping time.  You’re all science and test tubes.  Simon’s world is way more interesting.” 
 
Bonnie clenched her fists.  Okay, maybe this was a normal night.  A normal night of her getting pissed at Marcy.  
 
“Of course I’m all science and test tubes,” said Bonnie.  “That stuff is real.  You can’t prove any of this stuff you’re saying is true.  For all I know, you’re all totally nanners.” 
 
Marcy threw back her head and laughed, showing off those impossible fangs.
 
“Nanners?”  she said.  “Nanners?  Nanners like Kara attacking Finn?  Nanners like me going all bat to save your sorry butts?  That kind of nanners, BB?”
 
Bonnie crossed her arms.  She had zero clue what the actual hell was going on that night, but she was standing her ground.  She felt like everyone around her had gone nuts.  But there had to be at least one sane person in the room, right?  One person who understood that all of this was utterly insane?  Finn was a child, Marcy was Marcy, and Bonnie had no idea what Simon’s deal was.  Not the best team of experts.
 
“Literally all of that can be explained by drugs,” Bonnie said.  “Kara going bonzo?  Drugs.  You throwing her across the room like that?  Drugs.  The bat thing?  Drugs.  You’re all coco-beans.”
 
She focused on Simon, making some pretty harsh eye contact and doing her “disapproving mom” stare.  Simon was probably the oldest guy there.  He had to be pushing late forties or fifties.  And he was a scientist.  Normal people didn’t invest in huge libraries that they actually used.  So why was Bonnie stuck being the adult when Simon should have been more qualified?
 
“Dude, you’re a scientist,” she said.  “There’s no way you actually believe this bunk.”
 
Simon gave her a sad look, like he pitied her peanut-sized understanding of the situation.  He snapped the book closed.
 
“I used to be just like you,” he said.  “I too thought it was bunk.  But...” 
 
He swallowed and looked away, his fingers trembling.  His bluish complexion was even more obvious.  Simon almost looked like a frozen corpse, except he was obviously alive.  But Bonnie had brushed against him when they first entered the room and she could have sworn he felt unnaturally cold.  
 
Marcy floated over to Simon and patted his shoulder, her brow furrowed with worry.
 
“You don’t have to talk about it,” she said.  
 
Simon patted Marcy’s hand and smiled reassuringly.  Those two had obviously known each other for a long time.
 
“It’s fine, Marceline,” he said.  “Its been a while since I’ve had to tell this story.” 
 
Simon walked over to one of the arm chairs and collapsed into it.  He dangled his arms over the sides of the chair, staring up at the ceiling.  He hadn’t brushed his hair or beard in a long time.  There was a crack running down the left lens of his glasses, but Simon didn’t seem bothered by it.  
 
“I was young then,” said Simon.  “I was naive.  I didn’t believe in the supernatural.  But then I found it.”
 
He clearly didn’t want to tell this story again, despite what he’d just said to Marcy.  But for Bonnie’s sake, Simon needed to pull her into his world.  He couldn’t help them if they weren’t all totally on board.  Of course a scientist like Bonnie was still clinging to her last strand of logic.  Simon saw a reflection of his younger self in her eyes.  He also saw someone else, but he tried not to think about it.
 
“The crown,” said Simon.  “I don’t know where it came from.  All I know is that it was forged by forces not of this world.  It has the power to twist a mind, to grant horrible and wonderful power.”
 
He gestured towards himself.  
 
“This is what it did to me,” said Simon.  “I haven’t left the house in years.  I have the crown locked up in a display case in my lab.  I spend my spare time studying it.”
 
He looked down at his lap, clenching and un-clenching his hand.  Simon had adapted to the cold because he had to live with it.  But to everyone else, he was an abomination, an impossible creature.  If Simon ever stepped foot outside of his house, he was one hundred percent sure he’d be dragged off to some lab somewhere for study.  But Simon didn’t want that.  He needed to take care of this himself.  This was his curse, not a potential weapon to be exploited.
 
“I’ve lost so much,” said Simon.  “My dignity.  My freedom.  Betty.  All I have is this huge house and the savings I’m burning through.” 
 
He clutched the arms of his chair.
 
“That’s why I study the impossible,” said Simon.  “Demons.  Vampires.  There has to be a cure somewhere.  There must be someone or something out there that can end my suffering.”
 
Simon sounded close to tears.  He was never ready to tell this story.  To his neighbors, he was just this weird guy who lived in a big house.  Well, former neighbors.  They’d moved away a long time ago, leaving Simon even more alone.  He didn’t really mind them leaving.  Less people to ask questions if he decided to take a walk around his yard.
 
“It’s late,” said Simon.  “You shouldn’t be walking home at night.”
 
Bonnie reached into her pocket and yanked out her phone.  It was late.  After midnight.  And they were kind of far away from home.  Bonnie hadn’t thought about it during the walk, but there was no way they were walking that far in the dark.  Even if Candace was safe, Bonnie didn’t feel comfortable with that distance.
 
Marcy hovered in midair, cradling her arms behind her back and grinning.  

“Oh snap,” she said.  “Guess it’s sleepover time.”
 
Bonnie ground her teeth.  She had two options and the second option wasn’t even really an option.  She either stayed with Marcy and her weird friend or she hoofed it back to her apartment.  Yeah, back to her apartment.  In the middle of the night.  So really, she only had one choice and it was the worst.
 
“That okay with you, Finn?”  said Marcy.
 
Finn didn’t answer.  He was kneeling beside Kara, both hands propped up on the arm of her chair.  He was watching as she barely moved, almost choking on her own breath every time she made a sound.  Well, that was settled.  Finn didn’t look like he was moving any time soon.  He probably had heard zero of that conversation between Bonnie and Simon.  The rest of the world just didn’t matter anymore.
 
“Spare bedrooms on the second floor,” said Simon. 
 
Bonnie nodded mutely.  She was going to text Peter and tell him where she was.  But how the heck did she explain herself?  Peter wasn’t a scientist, but he always struck Bonnie as totally rational.  If she dumped all this demon and vampire bullshit on him, he’d probably think she’d gone completely nutso.
 
But if she didn’t call, Peter would freak out and come looking for her.  So Option 2 was off the table again.  Was there even an Option 3 or was she getting her hopes up?
 
Bonnie decided to just go for it.  Her quick text would probably ring a dozen alarm bells, but there was nothing she could do about it.  It was either a transparent lie or the unbelievable truth. If only Bonnie was the kind of person who whipped out her phone to record everything.  She could have gotten video evidence.  Not necessarily for Peter, but for herself.
 
Staying at a friend’s house tonight, Bonnie texted.  Will be home late tomorrow morning. 
 
Followed by a string of hopefully comforting emoji.  
 
Simon had jumped out of his chair.  He was standing in front of Kara’s sleeping body, his arms folded.  He was just standing there, his brow furrowed.  It was like Simon was afraid to get too close, afraid to actually touch Kara.  It wasn’t that kind of reasonable fear people have around unstable drug users.  This was something more guarded, like Simon had his own specific and not completely rational reasons for keeping his distance.  Bonnie didn’t care how Simon rationalized it.  She just hoped he was more sane than he looked.
 
“Can I see your lab?”  said Bonnie. 
 
She asked out of both genuine curiosity and the aggressive twisting in her stomach.  Bonnie wanted to get away from Kara and all the things she didn’t understand.  But what did she understand?  Science.  Bonnie understood beakers and test tubes and electricity.  She understood metal and gears and springs.  Bonnie understood calculations.  
 
Simon turned to her and smiled.  A warm grandfatherly smile.  Bonnie was pretty decent at evaluating people.  She spent a lot of time observing human behavior in the hopes of better understanding relationships.  She even sometimes slipped into the security room at her apartment building—Bonnie wasn’t allowed in there anymore—just so she could watch people through the interior and exterior cameras.  It was fascinating, like watching animals in an enclosure.  No one even noticed the lobby, hallway, and parking lot cameras, so no one was censoring their behavior for an audience.  It was a hundred times better than a few test subjects in a controlled environment. 
 
“Of course,” said Simon.
 
Bonnie, Finn, and Marcy followed Simon through the house.  The amount of unused space was kind of concerning.  The house was massive, but at least sixty-percent of it was unoccupied.  They had to pass through a bunch of empty rooms on their way to Simon’s basement lab.
 
Bonnie rubbed her own shoulders.  She really hoped Simon didn’t get the wrong idea.  Whenever Bonnie imagined asking someone “Can I see your lab?” it was usually in scenarios involving flirting.  And why wouldn’t it be?  That was probably the sexiest sentence Bonnie had ever said out loud.  Bonnie wished she’d had more opportunities to study romantic relationships up close.  She wanted to compare-and-contrast her fantasies and fiction with real life.  For science.
 
Marcy nudged Bonnie’s shoulder.
 
“Yo, BB,” she said.  “You good?  You okay?  You chill?  Talk to me.”
 
Bonnie rolled her eyes and moved away.  She wanted to tell Marcy to go fart in a fortune cookie, but she really couldn’t.  There was no one else to talk to.  Kara was sleeping in the library, Bonnie barely knew Simon, and Finn was still in a very fragile state of shock.  Bonnie didn’t want to know what would happen if she pushed Finn.  But Marcy was keeping her cool.  Marcy could actually listen without falling apart.
 
“So you’re really a vampire, huh?”  said Bonnie.
 
They were descending the stairs into the lab.  Bonnie tried not to notice that Marcy was floating again, but she couldn’t ignore it.  Marcy had been doing it almost constantly since they left Pizza Sassy, like she was throwing her impossible existence in Bonnie’s science-y face.  And Marcy wasn’t just floating a few inches off the ground.  She was doing midair flips, spinning around, really milking it.  
 
“Yeah,” said Marcy. 
 
She raised an eyebrow and nudged Bonnie’s shoulder again.
 
“Dude, did you really not believe me?”  she said.  “Flip, man.”
 
Bonnie threw up her arms, pissed for the seventh or eighth time that night.  Was she ever going to stop bouncing between furious and confused?
 
“Of course I didn’t believe you, ya dip!”  said Bonnie.  “Vampires aren’t even real!” 
 
They got to the bottom of the stairs.  Bonnie and Marcy were the last ones into the lab.  Finn was ahead of them and Simon led the way.
 
Bonnie wrapped her arms around herself.  Why the heck was it so cold down there?  It was freezing, like they’d just walked into an unheated house in the middle of winter.  
 
Simon turned to look at the three of them and gave them an apologetic smile.
 
“I’m sorry,” he said.  “It’s the crown.”
 
He pointed at the display case at the far end of the room.  
 
Bonnie squinted, disbelieving.  Was he serious?  When Simon said “crown”, she was imagining something from a history book.  Bonnie knew what crowns looked like.  But the thing in the display case looked like nothing she’d ever seen before.  Maybe it was supposed to look mystical and mysterious, but instead it just looked like a piece of junk.  It was like something Bonnie would have grabbed from a party supply store.  Dramatic pointed arcs, bold colors, and definitely only a few years old.  The only interesting aspect of it was the big red gem in the middle.  Bonnie was pretty sure she was looking at a prop from a movie set.
 
She crossed the room, disappointment settling into her stomach.  Bonnie actually thought Simon had something for her.  Something cool and unexplainable.  Of course that was just this insane night getting to her.  This was all starting to make a twisted kind of sense:  drugs, props, Marcy’s confidence, the eccentric old man.  It was just a tangled web of delusions.  Simon probably had some kind of mental issue and Marcy was playing along because she thought it was funny.  Maybe the isolation had turned Simon paranoid and completely warped his view of reality.  From a psychological standpoint, it made perfect sense.  Simon feared getting old, so he made up some story about a cursed crown to explain away his own aging.  And all that crap about demons?  It was just an excuse for him to stay isolated from everyone else, something to rationalize his paranoia.
 
Bonnie touched the display case.  She expected—and wanted—some kind of reaction from the thing inside.  An electric shock, a subtle pulse of energy.  But of course nothing happened.  The crown didn’t do anything, even as Bonnie’s breath fogged up in front of her.  If the crown really was cursed, it was the most boring and fake-looking cursed object Bonnie had ever seen.  
 
“Where did you find it?”  said Bonnie. 
 
Simon answered right away, which she wasn’t expecting.  
 
“In some distant village deep in the mountains,” said Simon.  “No one would tell me where it came from, only that there was something unnatural about it.  I’ve managed to track down some records pertaining to the crown’s journey, but the origin remains a mystery.” 
 
He refused to look at the crown.  He kept his eyes fixed on a point above the display case.  
 
“When I put it on, I see things,” he said.  “People and places.  I know names.  I can feel the snow. I keep hearing one particular name over and over again:  Gunther.  I believe he was the original owner of the crown or at least the first person to harness its power.  But I haven’t been able to track him down.  None of my records mention him.” 
 
He smiled sadly, staring down at his hands.
 
“Isn’t it funny?”  said Simon.  “I’ve aged rapidly, yet I’ve lived longer than most people.  The crown changes the body and corrupts the mind, but it also preserves the body and opens the mind.  It’s dangerous.” 
 
Marcy laughed and folded her arms.  She flipped over, floating upside down in midair.  
 
“Don’t believe a word of this, BB?”  she said.  “Wow.  Shocking.  Wouldn’t have guessed.” 
 
Bonnie shrank back a little.  She didn’t like how everyone was looking at her like she was the delusional one.  Bonnie felt like they were ganging up on her just because she refused to swallow this bullshit.  She was pretty sure Kara would have been on Finn’s side, because of course she was always on Finn’s side.  Bonnie was outnumbered. 
 
“But this is totally bongo-beans!”  said Bonnie.  “Of course I don’t believe any of it.” 
 
Finn put a hand on Bonnie’s shoulder.
 
“Yeah,” he said.  “It is totally bongo-beans.  But can’t you drop science for one second and roll with the beans?” 
 
Bonnie brushed Finn’s hand away.  No, she couldn’t roll with the beans.  The beans were full of insanity.  Bonnie couldn’t just throw away her years of science and reason.  She was valedictorian, for Grod’s sake!  Leader of the science and math club.   Bonnie was voted “Most Likely to Solve Every Problem in the World with Test Tubes” in high school.  She built a mechanical sandwich-making machine when she was fourteen.   
 
“Finn, you can’t just blee-bloo-blop your nerd brain away,” said Bonnie.  “That’s not how science works.”
 
Marcy wrapped her arm around Bonnie’s shoulders.  Bonnie was so upset that she didn’t shrug it off.  Well, she was upset and she did kind of like having Marcy’s arm there.  It was like Marcy was physically anchoring Bonnie to the ground, making sure she didn’t float off with her mind.  It was nice to know that she was firmly in place.
 
“You want science, Bonnibel baby?”  said Marcy.  “Check it.” 
 
She grabbed a notebook from a nearby bench and flipped it open.  She pointed at the drawing on the page:  a very rough deconstructed sketch of the Lich.  There were notes in the margins, key points were labeled.  The messy handwriting reminded Bonnie of her own.  Even the drawing style reminded her of her own detailed anatomical sketches.  
 
Bonnie took the notebook from Marcy.  She started flipping through it, scanning notes and sketches.  Trial and error, detailed observations, concise labeling.  This was research.  This was science.  An insane science focused on an insane premise, but it was still science.  It shouldn’t have made sense, yet Simon had forced it to make sense.  There was probably even more on his computer. 
 
“No working vocal cords,” Bonnie muttered.  “The smell of rotting flesh and sulfur.  Decay of the victim’s body upon prolonged possession.  Garments don’t match those of any known religion or culture.” 
 
Unintentionally, Bonnie had started pacing with the notebook.  She was reading out loud, like she was studying a scientific journal or proofreading an essay.  Except there was no science.  It was just ridiculous supernatural bullshit.  But Simon’s notes gave a lot more context.  They made the impossible seem reasonable.  If someone had submitted this as a legitimate scientific text, Bonnie probably would have given it a pass. 
 
She stopped pacing and looked at Simon.
 
“What other cases?”  she said.  “Who else has been possessed?”
 
Simon nervously shuffled his feet.
 
“I don’t know the numbers,” he said.  “I uncovered dozens of cases, but I can’t be sure they’re all him.” 
 
Bonnie shut the notebook, nodding.  
 
“Okay,” she said.  “So you have no idea how people this Lich boy has jacked.  But do you know what it wants?  It has to want something.”
 
Not that Bonnie believed any of this.  She wasn’t an idiot.  But she was in hostile territory.  Everyone wanted Bonnie to believe in this paranormal nonsense, so why not pretend?  Maybe if Bonnie fed Simon’s delusions a little, she might be able to unravel the truth.  There had to be a very simple scientific explanation for what was going on.  Even if it turned out to be a prank, Bonnie wouldn’t be pissed.  She just wanted everything to make sense.   
 
Simon looked Bonnie dead in the eye.  He didn’t look scared.  But Bonnie heard the fear in his voice.  He’d probably never had to say this out loud before.  The first time was always going to be the hardest.  It was one thing to know.  It was another thing to actually say those words.
 
“He wants to end the world,” said Simon.
 
A shudder raced up Bonnie’s spine.  Maybe she didn’t totally believe in all of this, but she was still spooked.

Chapter Text

Bonnie was a scientist. She believed in things she could see, things she could feel, things that made sense.

The supernatural was none of those things.

Ghosts? Fake. Hallucinations. Sleep paralysis.

Objects moving on their own? Pranksters. Fishing line.

Demonic possession? Mental illness. Drugs. Psychosis. Attention-seeking.

Vampires? Fake teeth. Wires. And probably drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

But what kind of scientist ignores overwhelming evidence? What kind of scientist refuses to step outside of their comfort zone? What kind of scientist denies their own eyes, eyewitness accounts, and confirmation from a fellow nerd?

If vampires and demons were real, what was even the point? Why science at all? It was all pointless. There were things beyond science, beyond rational explanation. Things that couldn't be studied. But that was bonkers.

Bonnie woke up the next morning with a single goal in mind: she wanted to ask Simon some more questions. Before she left, she needed to know everything.  It was Bonnie’s duty as a scientist.  If she didn’t probe for the truth, no one else was going to.  Finn was a child who blindly accepted everything he was told and Kara wasn’t the most discerning when it came to obvious bullshit.   

She hugged herself as she walked downstairs.  It was still too chilly in that house.  Didn’t Simon have a furnace?  Or at least some of those crappy space heaters?  Bonnie was worried she might actually get sick from the chill.  

"Morning, Bonnibel!"

Marcy swept past Bonnie, her long hair swiping against Bonnie's face like a curtain.

Bonnie gagged, scraping and spitting a few nonexistent strands of hair off her tongue. Seriously? She literally just woke up. Wasn't it a little early in the morning for Marcy to be a total trash can? Bonnie usually tethered her assholery until after she maxed out her daily protein and carb intake. Couldn't piss of her friends on an empty stomach.

"Morning, Marceline," said Bonnie.

Marcy floated backwards, hitting Bonnie with a pair of finger guns and winking. It was probably the dorkiest thing Bonnie had ever seen in her life. But Marcy took the dork right out of it. Her confidence was enviable.

Despite feeling like utter hell, Bonnie smiled. She kept getting pissed at Marcy, but it just wouldn't stick. It was like Marcy kept jabbing the reset button. And that pissed her off even more, but then Marcy started dorking it up again and Bonnie forgot why she was mad. It was so damn frustrating.

Simon was making breakfast. Well, what he probably thought was breakfast. It was pretty obvious that he hadn't had guests in a while. Simon was wearing an apron with the words Hot Buns printed across the front in curly letters, accompanied by a graphic of two hamburger buns. Apparently omelets were on the menu that morning.

He flipped a fresh omelet onto a plate and handed it to Bonnie. He was grinning like he was proud of himself.

Bonnie wrinkled her nose. The omelet smelled very, well, interesting. Simon had gone completely overboard with the spices and herbs. Bonnie was all for food experimentation, but she was pretty sure that if she ate that, she would drop dead on the spot.

"So, Simon," said Bonnie. "About this....demon."

She forced a smile. Bonnie didn't know how far she was willing to play along. But sure. For the sake of communication, she'd call it a "demon".

Simon flipped another omelet onto a plate and put it on the table.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said. "I made some breakthroughs last night. A scientist never sleeps."

Marcy yanked open the fridge and pulled out a container of strawberries. She cracked open the plastic container, nostrils flaring as she inhaled the sweet strawberry scent. These were the real deal. Fresh from Simon's private garden. One of Simon's many indoor food experiments. Genetically engineered for maximum freshness, maximum sweetness, and the deepest most delicious red in the entire universe.

She grabbed a strawberry, stabbing right through the surface with her fangs. Marcy sucked up all that lovely deep red like it was food dye. When she was done, Marcy chucked the strawberry at Bonnie.

"All yours, Bonnibel," she said.

Bonnie clenched her fists on the tabletop, her eyes locked on the strawberry as it rolled across the table towards her. No. No. No. That was totally not possible. There was no way she'd just seen that. But there was the proof right in front of her. A strawberry completely drained of its color.

She reluctantly grabbed the strawberry and held it up. Bonnie twisted it around in her fingers, examining it from every possible angle. It looked, well, like a perfectly drained strawberry. If Bonnie had glimpsed one of those at a supermarket, she would have assumed it was a rare species of pure white strawberry imported from somewhere across the sea.

"How'd you...?" said Bonnie.

Marcy opened her mouth wide.

"Fangs, Bonnie baby," she said. "Fangs."

Bonnie closed her fist around the strawberry. She squeezed it, like she thought it might bleed red through the gaps in her fingers. But that strawberry was all out of red. Probably still tasted the same.

She opened her palm. Bonnie let the strawberry fall out of her hand, roll across the tabletop, and tumble to the floor. Bonnie didn't know what to say at this point. She felt like her brain goo was being pulled in seven directions.   

Fortunately, Finn and Kara rushed to the rescue. They arrived just in time to stop Bonnie from going on another skepticism-fueled rant.  Not that Bonnie wanted to go on a rant.  But she felt like she had to.  The angry nerd part of her Bonnie’s brain was itching for a spirited debate and a thorough debunking.   

Kara looked better. She was less pale, she could walk by herself, and there were no bags under her eyes. She must have actually gotten a good night's sleep.

"Kara!" said Bonnie.

She rushed out of her seat. Bonnie wasn't usually in a hugging mood, but screw it. Bonnie had been on pins and needles all night, worried to death about Kara. Maybe her and Kara weren't exactly best friends, but Kara meant a lot to Finn.

Bonnie wrapped Kara in a bone-crushing hug, burying her face in Kara's broad chest. Kara was warm. Warm and alive. It felt like a miracle, like some kind of divine intervention. Last night had just wrung all of the emotions out of Bonnie. She really lost her cool.

She retreated, her arms falling to her sides. She was blushing. Had Bonnie really just hugged one of her fellow employees? That had to be against the rules. Bonnie was prepared to give herself a lengthy write-up for that obvious breach of protocol.  Ugh.  Bonnie had to go back to work after all this, didn’t she?  How?  How the hell?  If Bonnie’s brain was splitting apart in Simon’s house, Pizza Sassy might actually break her in two like a candy cane.  

Kara patted Bonnie's head. It was an awkward gesture, but the whole moment was awkward.

"Thanks," said Kara.

Bonnie grabbed Kara's arm and steered her towards the table. Fortunately, Kara didn't resist. There was no way Bonnie would have been able to move her if she did.  Physical health and mental health were closely linked—Bonnie had written and read many essays about the subject—but Bonnie still wasn’t sold on gym life.  Maybe it was about time she started working out for real?   

"So what do you remember?" said Bonnie. "What happened? Do you remember going all bonzo on us or what?"

Kara furrowed her brow, clumsily fumbling through her own memories.  

Demonic possession was always tricky, at least in Simon’s limited experience.  It was so difficult—pretty much impossible—to prove because so many cases turned out to be drugs, mental illness, or a combination of both.  But Kara was an actual live subject, a woman who’d experienced confirmed possession less than twenty-four hours ago.  Simon had so many questions he probably didn’t have time to ask.   

"I...I was gone," said Kara. "Inside my head. I heard a voice. It made me feel so scared. But...but I don't remember anything it said."

Kara looked away. Bonnie had a feeling that last part was a complete lie, but she didn't press. Kara had been through enough. Pestering trauma victims for details usually didn't end well. Bonnie needed Kara lucid and willing to talk.

Simon started fumbling with his apron.

"Did you see anything before it happened?" said Simon. "A face? Green eyes?"

The apron crumpled to the floor. Simon didn't seem to notice. He just stepped over it, his face twisted in worry as he approached the table.  Interviewing victims was never fun.  Nine times out of ten, they were a child suffering from mental illness who was being doped up by uncaring or ignorant guardians.  If Simon was being honest, he found those stories more heartbreaking than possession.  He was relieved that Kara was—probably--not one of those cases.  But it had been a while since Simon talked to an actual victim of demonic possession.   

Kara shuddered. She looked so big and tough, like she could snap anyone in half. But Kara was human. And like most humans, sometimes Kara was scared shitless.   

"I saw a snail," said Kara. "It was waving at me from the kitchen window."

Simon frowned and rubbed his chin.

"So that's how," he said. "I see. Very interesting. Very interesting. But why?"

Marcy laughed. She tossed a handful of drained strawberries back into the container and shut it. She'd been watching the whole exchange like it was the best free entertainment. Just snacking on strawberries and watching from the sidelines.  This was all old news to Marcy.  Everything they were talking about sounded like a typical weekend to her.  It was hilarious how humans—other than ultra-nerds like Simon—were so casually dismissive and boring.   

"Because he's a total bleeblop," said Marcy. "And a flipping coward."

Simon waved his hand dismissively.

"Yes, I think we can all agree that the Lich is bleeblop as heck," said Simon. "But why now? Is it sending me a message? Does it want us to know it's here? Why abandon a vessel so quickly?"

He snapped his finger as an idea fired off in his big nerdy brain. Simon had been looking at this through the lens of a casual possession.  But that was outside the Lich’s usual M.O., wasn’t it?     

"Maybe Kara was never intended to be the vessel," said Simon. "Maybe a vessel, but not the vessel. No, it has someone else in mind."

Finn slammed his fist into his open palm and grinned. Those sounded like fighting words.  Finn had been itching to punch something ever since this whole thing started.   

"So we gotta smoke this guy before he jumps into someone else?" he said. "Shouldn't be too hard."

Bonnie spoke before thinking. By the time she processed what she was saying, the words were already out of her mouth.

"It's here for a reason," said Bonnie. "It's planning to jump into someone in Candace. But who?"

Bonnie cringed inwardly. Oh Grod. What had she become?  

But Simon nodded in agreement, which somehow made Bonnie feel even worse. All of this would have been so much easier if it made less sense. Bonnie needed it to make less sense. She needed to find some inconsistency she could exploit. But of course that wasn't going to happen. This was airtight and it was driving Bonnie bonzo-beans-bonkers.

"I have an idea," said Simon. "It's a long shot, but I think I might be on to something."

He frowned. This was definitely a shot in the dark. But that was the one unifying element between science and the occult. It was always a shot in the dark.

Jake scrolled through Finn's last eight messages for the billionth time.

According to the messages, Finn was spending the night with a friend. That was fine, but Jake wished Finn had just called him. But instead Jake found Finn's empty bedroom and eight unread messages. Not the best start to Jake's day. And that was after Jake finished cooking up a fantastic breakfast of bacon pancakes and leftover spaghetti.

Now Jake was lounging on the couch with his phone. He was waiting for Finn to send him another message. Something about how Finn was heading home ASAP.  Jake would have messaged first, but he didn't want to be one of those older brothers. He knew Finn was shouldering a lot of adult responsibilities. It didn't seem fair to keep treating Finn like he was a toddler.

Jake rolled off the couch and onto the floor. It was supposed to look super cool, but it actually looked like Jake did it by accident. Good thing Finn wasn't there to see that blunder. Jake would have never heard the end of it.

He got to his feet, rubbing his bruised shoulder. Jake needed food. He'd already eaten breakfast, but he could always just eat Finn's share. Finn would never know.  As long as Jake kept his hands off the Finn Cakes, he was fine.  An unspoken rule between them.  Finn could forgive almost anything except outright theft of his beloved Finn-shaped cupcakes.  Jake didn’t get how or why, but he didn’t ask.   

Jake walked into the kitchen, his phone stuffed into his pocket. Jake told himself he wasn't worried about Finn. After all, Finn was an adult. Well, almost.  Soon enough, Finn would be married to whatever guy or gal caught his attention.  Married with three kids and a nice big house with a barn.  Or maybe Jake was getting ahead of himself.  Finn wasn’t even older enough to vote yet.   

He scooped Finn's bacon pancakes onto a plate.  Jake thought it was a pretty good deal:  he did most of the cooking and Finn did, well, everything else.  Including the daunting task of having a steady pair of jobs instead of whatever Jake did.  Finn was a good kid.  Jake was lucky to have him.   If he’d been stuck with anyone else, Jake probably would have just kept building up his impressive criminal record.  Not that his record was anything impressive.  Just some shoplifting and maybe a few robberies.  Jake had given up that life a long time ago.   

Jake frowned. He was hearing noises from one of the other apartments. Again. Couldn't they keep it down in there? It was way too early in the morning and the walls were way too thin.  Some people were sleeping. 

He banged his fist on the wall and shouted.

"Hey, keep it down in there," said Jake. "Don't make me come over there."

Of course he wasn't going to, but the threat seemed to work. The noises stopped. Jake could finally eat in peace.

Jake sighed. No one told him that raising his little brother in a crappy apartment would be difficult. No one told him about all the unwanted noise. No one told Jake about the lonely breakfast mornings.  But that last one was probably going to be a lot more common in the future.  Finn was going to have late nights.  Thank Glob Jake never gave him a curfew to break.   

Jake started to head back to the couch, but his phone chimed. Jake almost dropped his plate of food. He quickly placed it on the nearest flat surface and started digging around in his pocket, wrestling with the phone. Jake's hands were shaking and sweaty, his relief cleaved by a horrible sense of dread.

It was a message from Rain. She wanted to know if he still wanted to go out for drinks next Saturday.

Smothering his disappointment, Jake forced himself to give Rain a simple prompt answer. Of course it wasn't up his usual bombastic quality, but Jake was sure Rain wouldn't notice. And he did want to get drinks with her.  Next Saturday just sounded so far away.  Jake wished Rain could move in with them, but he knew that was pushing it.  There was only one bedroom.  They used to have a third roommate—Shelby--but he moved all the way across the country to attend some fancy art school.   

The noises started up again, but Jake didn't notice.

Finn fell back into a chair, his limbs slumping over the sides. He was gaping, his eyes lit up with a lethal mix of excitement and horror. It was the most Finn expression Bonnie had ever seen. It told Bonnie that Finn was up for doing something reckless.

"Billy?" said Finn. "The Billy? Oh my crease." 

He looked around, shocked. How was everyone else not freaking out about this? Did they seriously not know about Billy? Was Finn the only cool person in the room? Or was everyone else trying to be all adult about their enthusiasm?  Well, bunk that.  Finn felt like he had every right to start screaming at the top of his lungs.  This might have been the best day of his entire life.   

"Who the heck is Billy?" said Bonnie.

The name rang a bell, but she wasn't sure.  

Marcy rolled her eyes and hooked an arm around Bonnie's shoulder.

"Seriously, Bon-Bon?" said Marcy. "Billy's a legend." 

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. That told her absolutely nothing.  In Bonnie’s experience, legends were people who founded empires or made important scientific discoveries.  But Billy didn’t sound like either.  He sounded like a guy who worked at a fast food place and smelled like burnt fries.  He sounded like the kind of guy who drove a beat-up old truck and smoked two packs a day.   

"Is he, like, a scientist?" said Bonnie.

Bouncing with excitement, Finn waved his arms.

"No, he's a legend," said Finn. "The greatest rock star to ever live. And he lives in my apartment building." 

Bonnie wracked her brains, but of course she still had zero clue. Bonnie wasn't particularly into "rock music". She just didn't see the appeal. Bonnie was more of a soft pop kind of girl.

"So what about him?" said Bonnie.

Simon tossed an armful of dirty plates into the sink. He twitched his fingers over the faucet, grinning slightly as the water gushed out automatically. One of Simon's own inventions. A little experiment with some very rudimentary tech.  Of course the dishwasher was always the easier option, but that thing was never not on the fritz.  Simon had given up trying to fix it.   

"There's this book I've been tracking," said Simon. "An ancient spooky tome rumored to contain hidden esoteric knowledge."

He squirted some dish soap into the sink.

"I believe Billy might have stumbled across that tome," said Simon. "He used to be quite the tomb raider before he retired to focus on his music. I'm not convinced he donated all of his most valuable artifacts to a museum."

Bonnie's face lit up with recognition.

"Oh dip!" she said. "That Billy? Why didn't you say that, ya donk?"

Marcy slapped Bonnie's shoulder and grinned.

"Classic Bonnibel," she said.

Bonnie ignored Marcy, although it did feel kind of cool to be validated. Of course she knew that Billy. He'd been some kind of independent archaeologist guy--a real life treasure hunter--a long time ago. Bonnie had never gotten around to finding out what happened to the guy. Apparently he'd fallen a lot farther than Bonnie predicted. But at least Billy hadn't just dropped off the face of the Earth.

Simon flipped off the water and started scrubbing the dishes. Finn was the only one who'd actually finished his omelet. Simon was a little insulted. It was his own special recipe. Perfectly balanced for maximum early morning calorie intake.

"It's called The Enchiridion," he said.

Bonnie jumped out of her chair, her heart thumping out of her chest.

"Holy crease," she said. "The Enchiridion? Are you sure?"

Finn stared at Bonnie, completely shocked.

"So what is it?" he said. "Is it something cool?"

Bonnie cleared her throat, glancing at Simon. She was kind of ashamed that she even knew any of this. Considering everything she'd seen throughout the last few days, Bonnie wasn't sure how to reconcile old knowledge with all this new information.

"According to, um, stories, it was this book full of spells and demonic knowledge," said Bonnie. "No one knows where it came from or where it was first written."

Simon rubbed his chin.  

"I was tracking it," said Simon. "I first encountered it in the Hindu Kush mountain range during a routine expedition.  I lost track of it a few months after I first found it.  I believe Billy somehow got his hands on it.”   

He pointed at Finn, Kara, Marcy, and Bonnie. They were all gathered on the other side of the kitchen.

"I need you to break into Billy's apartment and retrieve the book," said Simon. "If he really is the Lich's target, we can't let that book fall into the wrong hands."

Bonnie stepped back and crossed her arms, skeptical.

"But breaking and entering is illegal," she said.

Marcy threw back her head and laughed.

"Wow, really?" she said. "Thanks for the heads up, Bonnibel."

Bonnie pursed her lips. She was ashamed to admit it, but the second Simon said it, she'd automatically started coming up with a plan. Bonnie had never pulled off a robbery before, but she knew how to pick locks. Bonnie could improvise a decent lock-pick in three minutes out of stuff she just had on her. And Bonnie doubted Billy's apartment was filled with cameras or some kind of alarm system.  It was do-able.  Unethical, but do-able.   

Finn clapped his hands together. He was apparently way more excited about breaking into his hero's apartment than Bonnie expected. Honestly, Finn just wanted a look at Billy's awesome collection of signed guitars.

"The cameras in the hallway never work," said Finn. "Me and Jake get our stuff taken all the time!"

Bonnie chewed her lip. This wasn't technically a crime, right? Yeah, they were breaking into someone's apartment and taking something that didn't belong to them. But maybe if they just borrowed it, they would be fine? Maybe not in the eyes of the law, but from a complex moral standpoint.  Science wasn’t inherently ethical, but Bonnie didn’t want to outright commit a felony.   

Marcy patted Bonnie's shoulder.

"We'll bring it back," she said. "We just had to make sure that the Lich doesn't get its hands on the book. Once the coast is clear, we'll give it back."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes at Simon.

"And you can't go with us?" she said.

Simon gave her a genuinely guilty smile.

"My condition," he said. "It wouldn't be wise. And I have faith in you."

Finn pumped his fists like he was hyping himself up for a big game. The almost-rabid enthusiasm on his face solidified Bonnie's stance.

"Let's do this biz!" he said.

Bonnie forced a smile. Well, she couldn't let two of her best fellow employees do this alone. Whether she liked it or not, they were--as Finn put it--probably going to "do this biz".

Chapter Text

Ever since Bonnie spilled the beans about Marcy, Peter had been in touch with some of his "people".

He wouldn't exactly call them "friends". Bonnie had met most of his friends. Peter had tea or maybe coffee with his friends once a week.  But these people lived in the shadows. Peter had to fortify every means of communication at his disposal and tap into some dangerous networks just to get in contact with them. He had a whole set-up just for talking to them through secure channels.

It was a two-end street: Peter didn't know their real names and they didn't know his real name. He couldn't have tracked them down if he tried and vice versa. Not that Peter wanted to. He was fine with remaining anonymous.

His friends had given him some very interesting info about this Marceline person. Peter wasn't sure it was going to hold up, but he was looking into it. If half of the stuff was true, Bonnie might be in danger. And it was Peter's job to make sure she stayed safe.

Peter unrolled his stash onto the kitchen table. His phone went off, but Peter didn't even hear it. It was probably another message from Bonnie. Probably something about her working late. That was fine with Peter. It was better if she didn't know about any of this.

It had been years since Peter used any of that stuff. But it was all in pretty good condition. The holy water was still in its vials and flasks, the wooden stakes were sharp, the crosses were shiny. It was an amateur arsenal, but more than enough to kill, well, pretty much any supernatural entity Peter had ever heard of.

He grabbed one of the stakes and flipped it over. Peter liked how it felt in his hand.  Personally, he preferred a bow and silver arrows for stuff like this.  But stakes were Peter’s best bet.   

He did a few practice stabbing motions and mouthed catchphrases:  "All bark, no bite."  "Fangs for the invitation."  "I guess you didn't have the heart." "Die, evil bloodsucking creature of the undead!"

That last one needed some work. But Peter had time. He could workshop a couple of his best ones and come up with something devastating.  A good catch phrase was the second most important thing in every vampire killer’s arsenal.   

Peter returned the stake to his arsenal and rolled everything back up. Thanks to his friends, Peter knew exactly what he needed to do next. He had every tool he needed, every advantage he could give himself.

It was time to kill a vampire.

Rain wouldn’t have called herself a “witch”.

No, what she did was more involved and more definitive than traditional witchcraft.  It extended far beyond normal everyday spiritualism.  Finn and Jake thought Rain just liked to dabble in weird stuff.  And they were right, but not in the way either of them envisioned.

Rain was sitting in her studio, a stained white apron over her clothes and a bunch of paintbrushes in her lap.  She had her phone out, her fingers moving quickly as she sent Jake a text:  Drinks next Saturday?  Y/N? 

She needed to talk to him about something.  Rain would have loved to drop by the apartment, but she was a little swamped with work.  And this was important.  This was about Finn.

Rain chewed on her lip.  Finn had made her promise to keep their little meetings a secret.  Finn didn’t want Jake to get the wrong idea, although Rain wasn’t sure what “wrong idea” Jake was supposed to get.  And Rain usually kept her promises.  But a few things had happened since the last time her and Finn met.  And now Rain wasn’t sure that keeping secrets was going to help anyone in the long run.  Jake would want to know the full truth.

Honestly, when Finn came to her about the vampire thing, Rain thought he was full of crap.  Maybe not intentionally, but Finn was a kid and kids aren’t the most reliable witnesses.  Why would a vampire be hanging around Candace?  And why would she reveal herself to some random people at a pizza place?  It made zero sense.  Either Finn was messing with her—unlikely—or he’d made a huge mistake and was about to pour holy water all over some innocent goth lady.

But Rain had seen some things.  She’d felt some things.  It was only nightmares, but Rain wasn’t an idiot.  The figures she’d seen and the emotions that rolled over her weren’t just dreams.  It tied into something Rain had experienced a long time ago, a series of events heralded by similar dreams and the same weird twisting feeling deep in her gut.  And if Rain was right, there was something way worse than a vampire coming to Candace.

If Finn was right about his vampire friend and Rain’s dreams were legit, there was a good chance they were all royally screwed.

Max really wanted to buy a soft serve machine.

Bonnie told him no one came to Pizza Sassy for soft serve ice cream, so why waste profits?  But that was the exact same thing she’d said about snow cones.  And the snow cone machine totally would have been a hit if it hadn’t broken down at the beginning of the summer.  And it wasn’t Max’s fault that he couldn’t get a refund.  The guy who sold it to him promised Max could get his money back if the machine conked out.  Buying used or broken machines was Max’s greatest business strategy.  Or at least it was when it worked.

Tony—Max’s faithful companion—told him there just wasn’t enough money for a soft serve machine.  Especially if Max wanted to go the extra mile and buy a brand new not-broken-down one.  

Tony was Max’s best “employee”.  Emphasis on the quotation marks.  Max paid Tony under the table and there was no actual record of Tony working there.  In exchange, Tony found used appliances, located places that sold discount supplies, and arranged elicit poker games.  He also filled in whenever Max couldn’t make it to one of his other gigs.  It was a perfect partnership.  

But now Max was pissed.  He didn’t understand why running a business was so difficult.  After all, he was a businessman.  He managed an illegal underground gambling ring, he officiated weddings with his somewhat real credentials, he bought and sold cheap used clothes for a little extra cash on the side, and he was what Tony called “classically handsome”.  Why was running Pizza Sassy so hard?  

“You could, you know, let someone go,” Tony said.

They were in Max’s back room.  The real back room, not the little cupboard that doubled as his office.  This one could only be accessed through a Tony-sized hidden door.  It was a tight squeeze, but Max managed to wedge himself through it.  The room beyond was larger and more welcoming than the door suggested.

Max dramatically pressed a hand to his forehead and shut his eyes.  

“Oh, I couldn’t!”  he said.  “I love my loyal little gremlins.  Banana Bells, Fiona, Parcel Lines, and the other ones.  How could I ever throw away such dear friends?  Why, it would be a travesty.”

Tony jabbed a finger at the papers on his desk.

“But boss,” he said.

Max opened his eyes and let out a long sigh.  Business.  So horrible and demanding.  Max really should have stuck to officiating weddings and running for mayor.  Pizza Sassy had been his dream, the one thing he really wanted to do with his life.  And yet it was forcing him to make tough decisions.  This never happened with his gambling den.

“If I must,” said Max.  “As long as it is fair and just.” 

He eagerly grabbed a list of names—all of his employees on record—and closed his eyes.  He held the paper in front of him, his finger running up and down the list.

“Eeenie teeny piney moe,” he chanted. 

Max opened his eyes, his finger hovering over a single name on the page.  He arched his eyebrows when he saw who it was.  It was such a shame.  Max thought he’d be able to keep his little pizza family together for at least another year.  But sacrifices had to be made for the greater good.  Max needed that soft serve machine.

“Oh my, oh my, oh dear,” said Max.   

He would hate to see her go.  She really was the backbone of Pizza Sassy.  But Max had no choice.  

Before the day was over, Max needed to tell Bonnibel that she was fired.  Well, he’d send her a strongly worded text message with plenty of emoji.  Max might have been callous, but he wasn’t a barbarian.  

Betty had everything she needed:  the radio, her notebooks, the external hard drives, and a strong bottle of booze. 

She readjusted the backpack on her shoulders, shifting the weight around to get a little more comfy.  Crap.  That thing was so heavy.  But Betty did a ton of push-ups every morning, so she was probably fine.  Betty was more worried about what was going to survive her long journey.  Her notebooks should be alright, but Betty hoped the old clunky radio would make it.

“Thank you,” she said for the fifth time.

Norman Mann tipped his hat to her.  Well, he tipped the place his hat would have been.  He was still getting used to being naked from the eyebrows up.

“Oh, wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.  “Thank you.  You’ve been such a good help to me.”

He winked at her and wiggled his fingers in a wave.

“Toodle-oooo,” said Norman.

Betty reluctantly wiggled her fingers back.  She was going to miss the little weirdo.    

She leaned forward and hoisted her backpack.  She nearly toppled over from the weight, like someone had tried to tackle her.  Maybe she shouldn’t have packed all those magazines?  

“Sure you can’t stay?”  said Norman.  “I just made scones.”

Betty frowned, wondering why the heck Norman would make scones if he knew she was leaving.  Even now, he was such an unreadable human being.  Unreadable and probably very lonely.  

Before the guilt could kick in, Betty gave him a firm head shake in reply.  No, she couldn’t.  They both knew that.  Betty couldn’t stay for scones, she couldn’t stay for a few gulps of good coffee, she couldn’t stay for a nice cup of soothing tea, she couldn’t stay for dinner or breakfast or whatever else Norman was cooking.  It wrecked her to realize it, but Betty had been postponing this goodbye for way too long.

“It’s almost sunrise,” she said.

She gave Norman one last hug before she left.  Betty felt a little weird about taking his hat with her, but Norman insisted.  Betty had earned it.  

Betty left without looking back.  She had no idea when she was going to get there.  It could be days, it could be weeks.  It most likely would be months.  But any amount of time was worth it.  

The pieces were in place.  The players were ready.  It was time for Betty to do some magic.

Chapter Text

Finn wouldn’t stop talking about Billy.  It got old really fast, but Bonnie couldn’t just tell him to shut up.  The poor kid needed something to distract him from what they were about to do.  And Bonnie needed an excuse to think about anything other than the fact that they were committing an actual B and E in broad daylight.

The worst part was the fact that Billy was a stranger.  If he’d been a friend or something, Bonnie would have felt a thousand times better.  One time—and Bonnie felt like crap about this—she’d snatched Finn’s pudding cup from the break room fridge without asking.  In her defense, Finn’s name wasn’t on it, so it was technically fair game.  How was Bonnie supposed to be okay with stealing metaphorical pudding from a guy she didn’t even know?

“…..and he totally fought a bear and it was the most mathematical thing ever….,” Finn was saying. 

Bonnie didn’t have the heart to interrupt Finn’s rambling.  Billy was old now, a former hero living in a crappy cheap apartment.  If Simon was right, Billy pretty much only left to buy food or hang out with his girlfriend.  Maybe he used to be a legend who—and Bonnie was skeptical—actually fought bears and explored ancient ruins, but now he was just some old guy with a girlfriend who’d burned through most of his money.  Finn was probably going to be disappointed.

Bonnie rubbed her shoulder.  She was wearing one of Marcy’s jackets and she had a green backpack slung over her shoulders.  The backpack—which looked a lot like her own—was on loan from Simon.  Simon told her it had once belonged to someone named “Betty”.  Bonnie didn’t press for further details.  A backpack is a backpack.  

“Uh, Marceline?”  said Bonnie.  “Have you ever, um, done it before?” 

Marcy arched an eyebrow, a grin spreading across her pale face.  It was overcast today, so no need for an umbrella.  Marcy had her emergency sun hat stashed in Bonnie’s backpack.  That was the best part of the colder season:  the cloud cover.

“You’re so gross, B-B,” said Marcy.

Bonnie’s cheeks flushed red.  She squeezed her fingers into the tight space between the backpack straps and her jacket, making sure it was nice and secure back there.

“I meant like breaking and entering,” said Bonnie.  “Geez.” 

Marcy shrugged her shoulders. 

“Don’t know, Bonnie,” she said.  “Have you?” 

Bonnie rolled her eyes.  Wow.  Best dodge in the history of dodging right there.  But Marcy’s question did force her to again re-evaluate what they were doing.  They were committing a crime for the sake of…..  Bonnie didn’t even know anymore.  Did she still believe Simon was delusional and everyone else was encouraging him?  Or was she rolling with the punches by this point?  A little bit of both, if she was being honest.  Bonnie just wanted peace.  And, well, sometimes peace meant breaking into an apartment with a teenage boy and a sexy vampire lady.

Marcy nudged Bonnie’s shoulder.  

“Come on, princess,” she said.  “You can’t be that squeaky-clean.  Haven’t you ever crimed before?  Just a little?”

Bonnie moved away from Marcy.  They were all walking too close together.  Bonnie was boxed in with Finn on one side and Marcy on the other.  It wasn’t entirely unwelcome.  If Bonnie ignored Finn’s rambling, it was almost comfy just having Marcy so close to her.

“We’re not all delinquents,” said Bonnie. 

Maybe that was too harsh and judgmental, but it was true.  Bonnie’s sins—if she could even call them that—were more personal.

They reached Billy’s apartment.  From the outside, it looked pretty average.  Nothing to suggest anyone important lived there.  Definitely no indication that a former “adventurer”--as Finn called him—had retired to live a decidedly normal life.  Bonnie had so many questions.

Marcy tried the door.  To her surprise, the knob turned.  No lock-picking required.

Marcy nudged the door open with her foot and stuck her head inside. Marcy grabbed both sides of the door frame like she thought it might try to suck her in. She didn't say anything, which seemed a little off brand for her. Marcy must have had the same hollow sinking feeling in her gut.  If people like her could even get hollow sinking feelings, which would have been a revelation to Bonnie.   

"Blee-blops," said Finn.

There couldn't have been much to see. From where Bonnie and the others stood, all they could see was a deep void of darkness. Billy must have shut off all the lights and maybe covered the windows for maximum dark. Interesting choice.

Marcy finally stepped aside. She bowed and gestured towards the abyss.

"After you, Bonnibel," she said.

Bonnie snorted and rolled her eyes. She slid her backpack off one shoulder and dug a flashlight out of it. It was one of those big searchlight-style ones with a beam that could reach across the ocean. Probably overkill, but it was the only one Simon had in his house.  And there was no way Bonnie was going in there without a light.   

She flipped on the flashlight and marched into the apartment. Finn, Kara, and Marcy were right behind her. In that order. Marcy hung back a few seconds, letting them all get ahead of her. When they were all in, Marcy shut the door with her foot, blocking out any extra light from the hallway.

Bonnie swung her light back and forth like, well, a search lamp. Billy's apartment was a mess. There were stacks of takeout containers all over the coffee table and couch, pieces of broken furniture piled up like a fire pit, and clothes hanging from the light fixtures.  It looked like a frat boy party house, except less bras in blenders and more boxers slung over the couch.  What the heck happened in there?   

"Wha--?" Bonnie started.

Kara flicked on the light.  She found the switch almost immediately.  It was right there on the wall next to the door.   

"Need to see," she said.

Her cheeks flushed red, Bonnie flipped off the massive flashlight. She shoved it back into her backpack. Oh. Right. Lights. For some reason she thought the building was no longer pumping electricity into this apartment. It gave off this vibe of being completely abandoned.  Maybe it was the pile of pizza crusts in front of the door.  Bonnie wrinkled her nose, massively grossed out by the stink.   

Marcy patted Bonnie on the shoulder. Bonnie couldn't tell if Marcy was comforting her or being a smug asshole again. Probably somewhere right in the middle.

"Holy crease!" Finn said.

The bookcase was overflowing with old books. Based on wear, the youngest volumes there had to be at least a couple hundred years old. There were mugs on the coffee table filled with various shiny trinkets. An unlocked chest--its contents glinting in the light--was shoved into one corner.

Marcy floated over to the coffee table and grabbed a mug. She turned it over, spilling a bunch of brightly-colored marbles all over the floor.

"Woof," she said. "People live like this?"

Bonnie darted forward and snatched the mug out of Marcy's hand. She shook it at her like she was scolding a pet.

"The heck are you doing, ya donk?" she said. "Do you want Billy to know we were peeping his stuff?"

Marcy grabbed the mug back and held it over her head. She floated up a few inches so Bonnie couldn't reclaim the mug. It was the ultimate cheat for a game of keep-away. Absolutely not fair.

"Chill," said Marcy. "You think he's gonna notice? For realsies?"

Bonnie bit her lip and rubbed her arm.  Why did she feel like she was the only one who wasn’t okay with this?  Marcy was acting like this was a vacation, Finn was being a total fanboy again, and Kara seemed pretty neutral.  None of this was right.  They should have been complaining about work or whatever friends did when they weren’t making or delivering pizza.   

"I just don't want us to, like, get in trouble," she said. "Is that banyangles?"

Marcy returned the mug to the table. She bent over and scooped up some of the fallen marbles. She had to dig some of them out of the carpet. Marcy tried not to feel all the crumb build-up from months of not vacuuming. One thing she and Bonnie probably agreed on: this place needed some serious cleaning.

"No," said Marcy. "I get it. This isn't your thing."

Bonnie spread her arms, the volume of her voice rising several more levels than it needed to.

"Um, duh!" she said. "Of course breaking and entering isn't my "thing", Marceline."

Finn interrupted what might have developed into a full-blown debate.

"Hey guys," he said.

Finn and Kara were over by the bookcase. They had pulled most of the books off the shelves.

Bonnie and Marcy rushed over to them, jumping over empty pizza boxes and narrowly avoiding the corners of furniture. It was amazing how much stuff Billy had crammed into that tiny apartment.   

Finn handed one of the books to Kara.

"It's not here," he said.

Bonnie's first irrational thought was that Simon had sent them on a wild goose chase. Of course there was no ancient book recovered from a distant mountain range. And Billy probably wasn't even in on it. Was this even Billy's apartment? Or had they broken into some poor guy's trash pile of a home and now they were rooting through his stuff like animals?

But Marcy pointed at an open doorway.  The one room they’d overlooked.  None of them were brave enough to go into the kitchen.  Marcy could picture it:  rotting food in the fridge, piles of filthy dishes in the sink, stained floor.  She didn’t even need to imagine it.  The stench painted her a pretty vivid picture.   

"Bedroom," she said.

She led all of them into the darkened room. This time Finn found the light switch and flipped on the light.

The bedroom was even worse than the living room. There was a TV--one of those old-fashioned bulky boob tubes--set up in front of the bed. The screen was cracked and it wasn't even plugged in. Billy seemed to have been using it as a makeshift table, judging by all the empty beer cans and clothes draped over it. The bed had been stripped, leaving a stained mattress.  There were empty suitcases all over the floor and of course pizza boxes.   

"Woof," said Marcy.

She said what they were all thinking. Well, all of them except for Finn.

Finn rushed over to the TV and grabbed one of the stained shirts. He pressed the filthy piece of clothing against his face and inhaled. It had to be at least several weeks old. From what Finn had said on the way over, Bonnie suspected Billy hardly ever left his apartment.

"Billy," Finn said.

Bonnie snatched the shirt from him and tossed it into a corner.

"Finn, no," she said. "Bad."

Finn frowned, but he didn't object. He just wasn't used to being in Billy's lair. He was probably Billy's biggest fan and the only person on the planet who knew Billy's entire history. Jake was going to be so fucking jealous when Finn told him. Maybe he'd leave out the part about committing a felony.

Marcy and Kara flipped the mattress. They found stacks of money and a few gold coins, but no Enchiridion.

Billy didn't have a dresser, but he did have a nightstand. Bonnie yanked the drawer out and felt along the bottom. Nothing, except for a few ticket stubs and a photo of a woman with dyed blue hair. Apparently Billy wasn't careless enough to stuff a priceless book in a drawer.

Finn dropped down to all fours and stuck his head under the bed. Empty boxes and what appeared to be condom wrappers. No book.

"Blee-blop-it," he said. "Its gotta be here. Right?"

Bonnie was feeling along the walls for a hidden storage space or something. She didn't answer Finn's question. No, it didn't have to be there. Writing off Simon again and again was tiring, but Bonnie was starting to believe he'd been playing with them. Why would one of the most priceless books in the world be in Billy's gross apartment? Why wouldn't he have stashed it in a storage facility somewhere?

Kara yanked a landscape painting off the wall. She held it awkwardly for a moment, squinting in disbelief at what she'd found. She dropped the painting and clapped her hands together like an excited toddler.

"Safe!" said Kara.

Almost instantly, everyone was gathered around her. It was a safe. A standard wall safe with a six-digit passcode. Billy must have had it installed himself. Bonnie doubted it came with the apartment.

Bonnie's heart thumped in her ears. There was a more-than-zero chance that the safe was full of money or jewels or something equally useless to them. That was what people normally kept in safes, right? But if it wasn't, if this was actually what they needed...

Kara leaned forward and read off the words printed on the safe.

"'Warning: This unit locks after three failed attempts'," she said.

Bonnie swallowed. Crap. Safe-cracking was a skill Bonnie hadn't really obtained. It was a game of information and chance, but she had zero real life experience. And she didn't have any tools with her. This was instantly a disaster.  

"Billy's birthday?" said Finn.

Bonnie grabbed Finn's wrist to stop him. From a tactical standpoint, they had everything they needed to crack the safe: a Billy expert, a scientist, a Marcy, and a Kara. But also from a tactical standpoint, they were screwed if that safe locked up on them.

"Too obvious," said Bonnie. "Finn, we need more Billy numbers. The real nerd stuff."

Finn rattled off all the Billy numbers he knew off the top of his head. He started off with the more obscure numbers. Very few people knew the exact amount of money Billy made from his first big research haul. And beyond that, Finn had a lot of random Billy-related things that Bonnie could translate into a numeric language.

But it was too many numbers and not enough chances. Was it the last few digits of the phone number of Billy's favorite college professor? Or was it the letters-to-numbers translation of the title of his favorite Victorian novel? Or was it a completely random set of numbers that meant everything to Billy and nothing to an outsider?

Bonnie rubbed her chin.  Normally she loved puzzles.  But in a high stress situation with everything to lose?  Bonnie would have preferred a cheat sheet.  Why couldn’t Billy be one of those people who wrote down their passcode in a locked box and locked that box with another passcode?  That was how Peter did it.  And Peter had zero clue that Bonnie had broken into his locked box and peeped his stuff.  Bonnie really wished she hadn’t.  That was a side of Peter Butler she would have rather kept hidden.    

"Give me an hour," she said.

Marcy rolled her eyes, her arms folded. She stepped forward, gently nudging Bonnie aside so she could stand in front of the safe.

"Chill out, Bon-Bon," she said. "Marcy's got this."

Before anyone could stop her, Marcy typed some numbers into the keypad.

There was a slight buzzing sound. A second later, everyone heard the subtle click of the lock releasing. The safe was open for business.

Bonnie stared at the unlocked safe. She wasn't sure whether to be pissed or impressed. Pissed because Marcy could have imploded one of their three chances. Impressed because Marcy shaved about fifty-five minutes off of her original estimate.

"Holy Grod," said Bonnie. "How'd you do that?"

Marcy flexed, tapping her bicep and grinning. So that was what she brought to the table: impulsive behavior that somehow worked out. Bonnie was the brains, Finn was the fanboy, and Kara was the brawn. The dream team.

"The name of the lake where he met his girlfriend," said Marcy. "Had a feeling you'd skip that one, Bonnibel."

Bonnie folded her arms and looked away, her cheeks flushing red. She felt like Marcy had just insulted her, but she wasn't entirely certain.  And Marcy was right:  Bonnie had filed that away as something Billy would never use as a passcode.  She didn’t even know why.  Something about it struck her as too sentimental for someone like Billy.  But did she actually know him?  Or did Bonnie just know the version from the stories?   

Finn yanked open the safe. He expected it to be gold and jewels. Maybe a private diary or scandalous photos. Even Finn couldn't imagine what the legendary Billy would keep in a wall safe.  It had to be something mathematical.   

"Oh my crease," he said.

It sat there, completely taking up the safe's interior. It was larger than Simon described and it looked even older. The cover and several pages seemed to be rotting, but it was still in good shape. In the middle of the cover, a circle studded with jewels enclosed an illustration of berries, a sword, a bird, and a skull. The title was printed above the illustration: Enchiridion.

Bonnie grabbed the book. She cradled it in her arms, her eyes burning with tears. She couldn't believe she was holding one of the oldest and most priceless artifacts in the world. Bonnie was almost worried it might turn to dust in her hands.  How had something this bongo-balls been bouncing around for centuries?  How had it ended up in this disgusting apartment?   

Marcy wrapped her arm around Bonnie's shoulders.

"Whoa, B-B," she said. "Chill. It's just a book."

Bonnie shook her head, holding the book against her chest. Supernatural or not, this book was worth way too much money and research to be stuffed in a safe in Billy's messy apartment.  Bonnie wanted to take it home and pore over every page until her eyes stopped working.  But they’d made a promise to Simon.  Any poring had to happen at Simon’s house.   

Marcy slid her arm off Bonnie's shoulder and clapped her hands for attention.   

"Okay, book got," she said. "Time to go?"

Finn reached over and touched the book's spine. He would have touched the cover, but Bonnie jumped away from him and pressed the book harder against her chest.

"Finn, be careful," said Bonnie. "This book is ancient."

Finn pouted. Yes, it was ancient, but it was also cool and it belonged to Billy. Finn thought he had every right to touch it.  He was the president—and only member—of Candace’s chapter of Billy’s awesome fan club.   

"This is, like, the coolest nerd thing," said Finn. "I wanna hold it."

Bonnie stepped away from him and shook her head.

"Absolutely flipping not," she said. "This is a piece of history. It needs to be in a museum. You're not getting your Finn germs all over it."

She didn't care that she was being a child about this. If Finn took that book from her, he was probably never giving it back. And Bonnie needed to make sure it was legit. If this really was what Simon claimed, it needed to be researched.  And the second they didn’t need it anymore, Bonnie was donating it to the local museum.  Maybe not the best place for something so valuable and important, but it was better than having it rot away in some guy’s library.   

Marcy grabbed Bonnie's shoulder.

"Come on, dorks," she said. "Let's get our donking butts out of here."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. She was just happy that Marcy wasn't trying to take the book from her. Glob. Didn't any of them care that this book was literally thousands of years old? It was worth millions of hours of research by itself. Bonnie couldn't wait to brag to all her online science buddies.  None of them were going to believe this.   

"Chill, Marceline," said Bonnie. "What's our hurry?"

Marcy jerked her thumb at something behind her.  There was one place in the room they hadn’t searched, but mostly because they’d kept overlooking it.  It was out of the way, easy to miss if you weren’t accustomed to the room layout.  The door was slightly cracked, something Bonnie and the others had definitely ignored.    

"Uh, so, the big donking creepo staring at us from the closet?" said Marcy.

Bonnie felt like someone cracked an icicle in her chest. The book almost slipped from her suddenly numb hands, but she pressed it even harder against her. She tried not to look, but her gaze immediately flickered to the closet.  It was in the corner of the room near the door.  It was small, barely large enough to hold a few coats and maybe two shirts.   

A pair of eyes--one unnaturally vibrant and the other a pinprick of green in a dark void--stared out from a crack in the door. The light from the bedroom slightly illuminated the figure, revealing what seemed to be a chasm where the nose should have been. The figure appeared to be crouching with its hands on its knees, otherwise it wouldn't have fit inside the closet.

"Billy?" said Finn.

Bonnie had zero time to dissect that. She shoved the book into Marcy's arms, grabbed Finn's wrist, and sprinted out of that bedroom. She didn't even stop to make sure Kara and Marcy were following them. She just ran, hauling Finn behind her. Bonnie could hear her heart in her ears, the pounding drowning out her footsteps.

Bonnie didn't stop in the living room. She dragged Finn through the open front door and into the brightly-lit hallway.  Bonnie didn’t stop until they sprinted over the threshold.  She didn’t let go of Finn’s wrist until she knew they were out.  Bonnie kept expecting to feel a tug, to feel someone trying to drag Finn back into that apartment.  Bonnie was tensed, ready to fight for Finn’s life.   

Marcy and Kara were right behind her. Kara was the last one out of the apartment. She slammed the door behind them.

Bonnie's entire body was shaking. She wasn't sure what she'd seen. She almost thought she hadn't seen anything. Maybe something in the closet caught the light and just looked like a pair of creepy eyes. Or maybe--in her panic--she'd confused a pair of perfectly normal human eyes for something horrifying. Either option seemed more plausible than the truth.

But Bonnie knew exactly what she'd heard, what had pumped the panic into her chest. A split second before her and Finn left the room, Bonnie heard it. It wasn't an auditory hallucination. It was as real as anything else she'd seen.

A wheeze. A short low wheeze. Followed by the sound of a closet door opening.

Chapter Text

Simon was wringing his hands and staring at his flip phone.

Having friends was a new experience for him. And having friends that might actually call him seemed even more improbable. And yet Simon was waiting by his phone, bundled up in a sweater and jeans with a cup of coffee in his hands.

Simon had brewed two pots, just in case his new friends wanted some when they got back. Simon didn't know how they took their coffee, so he'd brought out sugar, cream, and chocolate sauce. He wasn't sure which one of them he expected to go for that last one. Bonnie maybe?

He chewed his lip. Should he call them and ask how it was going? Or was that too clingy? About an hour ago, Finn texted him to announce that they'd arrived at Billy's place and Billy wasn't home. It had been dark since that one brief text.

Simon took a very long sip of his coffee. It burned his tongue, but he hardly noticed. Simon wanted to believe in his little group, but he honestly had zero faith in them. Bonnie and Marcy kept snipping at each other like high-schoolers, Finn was literally a kid, and Kara didn't seem suited to this kind of high stakes work.

But what were his choices here? Simon couldn't retrieve the book himself. He also couldn't have asked just one of them to go. It was too dangerous. As likely as they all were to mess this up, they had a better chance of getting in there and grabbing the book.

Simon grabbed the phone. Screw it. If Simon was going to crack this biz, he needed to make sure everyone was okay. He couldn't just be the guy on the sidelines waiting for everything to work out.

His phone beeped. Simon jumped and almost dropped it. It had been ages since anyone called him or sent him a text. Simon wasn't used to that noise.

He flipped his phone open and read the text. Simon frowned, puzzled. What the heck was this? Some kind of riddle? Word play?

The text read: biltt teh lucg.

Simon tried to unscramble it, but even his massive science nerd brain was stumped.

His phone beeped again. Another text. This one read: Belly the lick. Less cryptic than the last one, but still baffling. Was Finn butt-dialing him? Or butt-texting him?

A final text came two minutes later: billy the lich.

Simon was pretty sure his heart stopped. He didn't even know he had a heart that could stop, but that was definitely what it felt like.

Bonnie had both hands over her face. She was trying to say something, but her tongue was limp and useless in her mouth and her throat was like sandpaper.

Kara was leaning her entire weight against the apartment door. She hadn't heard anything from the other side, but she wasn't taking any chances. She knew exactly what she'd seen. She knew what she'd felt, looking into those eyes.

"So we've got the book," said Marcy. "Let's flipping leave!"

Finn was pacing, his fists clenched.

"We can't just go," he said. "We can't just leave Billy."

There were tears in his eyes. Billy was his hero. One of the good guys. How could this have happened to him? How many friends was Finn going to have to see go through this?

Marcy grabbed Finn by the shoulders and shook him. Her eyes were wide and she looked slightly insane.

"Dude, Billy's gone," she said. "Did you see that biz? The Lich totes messed him up. He's dead, Finn."

Finn swallowed, choking on a tidal wave of angry tears.

"Shut your donking mouth," he said.

But Marcy didn't let go of Finn's shoulders. She yanked him closer, looking deep into his tear-filled eyes.

"Did you see his face?" she said. "Did you see his face?"

It was a dumb question. They'd all seen his face, or at least part of it. It was burned into their brains. That hadn't been the face of someone who was alive and okay. It wasn't even the face of someone possessed like Kara had been. It was the face of a walking corpse given life by an unnatural force.

Bonnie shook her head. She was slumped against the wall, her eyes unfocused and hollow.

"No," she said. "No no no no. It was a hallucination. A trick of the light."

Marcy spun to face Bonnie, her face filled with rage. None of them had ever seen Marcy so genuinely pissed off. She looked like she wanted to wring someone's neck.

"Are you still on that, B-B?" said Marcy. "For real? Oh my Glob. How are you this flipping dense?"

Bonnie uncovered her face. There were tears running down her cheeks.

"If this is real, it's...it's...," she said.

She swallowed.

"It's scary," said Bonnie. "I'm scared, okay? Glob. I don't want to believe any of this is real because I'm about to donking mess my pants. I mean, have you seen this crud? It's nutso-banana-bonkers-bears!"

Marcy let go of Finn. She floated over to Bonnie and--to the surprise of both of them--gave her a big bear hug.

"Geez, Bonnibel," said Marcy. "Why didn't you say that? You had me, like, freaked out."

Bonnie returned the hug. Normally she wasn't up for random physical contact, but she could make an exception because she really really needed it. Bonnie felt like she was going to fall apart, but Marcy was pretty good at holding her together.

"You were freaked out?" said Bonnie. "You're a donking vampire!"

Kara tapped her fist against the closed apartment door.

"What should we do about him?" she said.

She jumped as she heard a voice from the other side of the door. It spoke in a low rasp, its skinless lips somehow able to form words. Whatever that thing on the other side was, Marcy was right: it definitely wasn't Billy. Not anymore. The voice sounded too much like something dead, like something that had crawled out of a crypt.

"We have found the tunnel," said the Lich. "Soon we will sail from here on bodies made of dust. But do not despair, children. The universe flies to its conception again and again and again. The stars shatter and the night sky is silent. You will all be silent."

Marcy slammed her fist against the door.

"Shut up, ya donk," she said. "Why don't you come out and fight me, huh?"

The Lich laughed. It sounded like dry paper rubbing against rotting wood.

"There will be other fights," it said. "There will be other souls. I am beyond light. I am beyond darkness. I am the end, come to consume you."

Marcy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said. "Have fun in there, you butt."

She grabbed Finn and Bonnie by the wrists and marched them away from the door. Marcy could hear the Lich leaving, but she ignored it. If it wasn't going to come out there and get its ass kicked, why even bother?

Kara followed, holding the book against her chest like it was the most valuable thing in the world.

"Um, shouldn't we do something about that?" said Bonnie.

She noticed that Marcy's hand was shaking. Maybe if Marcy had been on her own, she would have kicked down the door and tried to fight that thing. But Marcy had three squishy humans with her. Finn and Kara might have been able to fend for themselves--and probably Bonnie--but this was serious shit. They couldn't afford to take hits.

"Oh yeah?" said Marcy. "Got any ideas, Bonnibel? We're lucky it's not trying to bake our beans. We need Simon."

Bonnie frowned. Why wasn't it trying to bake their beans? Why wasn't it chasing after them? Didn't evil baddies usually get pissed when their prey slipped away?

She stopped in her tracks, forcing Marcy to freeze in place.

"It wants Simon," she said.

Marcy turned to face her, her eyebrows climbing her forehead.

"What?" she said.

Bonnie yanked her wrist out of Marcy's grip. She idly rubbed her wrist, even though Marcy hadn't been squeezing too hard. She felt like an idiot for not putting it together immediately. In Bonnie's defense, she was a little rusty. Rusty and freaked out.

"That's why he's not coming after us," said Bonnie. "He wants Simon. We go back to Simon's place and the Lich will know where he is."

She wasn't sure if the Lich could do that, but it made perfect sense. The Lich could have slaughtered them right there in that hallway. But he hadn't even tried, like he was holding back because he needed something from them. And he did need something: the Enchiridion. So why not kill them? Why let them get away?

"And?" said Finn. "Why does the Lich care about our boy Simon?"

Bonnie shrugged.

"It might need Simon for something," she said. "Maybe something with the book? I don't know. But we can't go back there."

Marcy tapped her foot impatiently and folded her arms.

"So where do we go, Bonnibel?" she said.

Her face lit up.

"Actually, I have a place," said Marcy. "And I'm sure the Lich doesn't know about it."

She grabbed Bonnie's hands and held them, an enormous grin on her face. They weren't even out of danger and she was already back to her normal self. Bonnie was kind of relieved. Normal Marcy was growing on her.

"Ready for a sleepover, Bon-Bon?" said Marcy.

Bonnie sighed. She wasn't and that sounded horrible, but it was better than leading the Lich straight to Simon.

Finn had his phone out. He was frantically mashing the buttons, trying to send Simon a text. Simon wasn't going to believe what had just happened to them.

Marcy’s house wasn’t what Bonnie was expecting.

Expectation: creepy old mansion with decapitated garden gnomes out front. Reality: a cute little house outside of town. Small and cozy. There was even a patch of healthy grass out front, which lent itself to the ludicrous idea that Marcy was capable of basic lawn care. Even the basketball hoop nailed up around the side didn’t spoil the fairy tale. It was the kind of place Bonnie would have lived. Maybe she could have put up a pink awning or something?

Standing on the front porch, Bonnie hugged herself and looked back the way they came. The house was pretty much invisible from the road. If Marcy hadn’t guided them to it, Bonnie would have never even suspected its existence. She must have passed this place, what? A dozen times? There was no path or anything. Just a ton of trees blocking the house from view. The only giveaway? The house’s highest peak was slightly visible over the trees if someone was paying attention. Other than that, completely hidden.

Marcy shoved the door open with her foot. It wasn’t locked,which gave Bonnie an extremely brief twinge of anxiety. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, spending any amount of time in an unlocked house made Bonnie feel exposed. But on the other hand, who the heck was even going to find them?

“Home sweet home,” said Marcy.

Bonnie relaxed. The interior was even more cozy than the outside. Bonnie felt like she was walking into the middle of a garden catalog.

Finn immediately charged at the couch. He threw himself at it like it like he hadn’t sat down in weeks, flopping on the cushions. Bonnie wanted to say something about Finn’s shitty manners, but she understood why he was being more Finn than usual. This was a weird situation for everyone.

“Oh, dip,” said Finn.

He rolled over onto his back and grimaced.

“Aw man,” he said. “Your couch is bonk, Marcy.”

Marcy floated into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs.

“Sorry, man,” she said. “I don’t really, uh, sit.”

She pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard and put it on the stove. Marcy had one of those old gas stoves, the kind that had been out of style for decades. She had to twist the knob a few times before it lit up. The place looked mostly modern, but Bonnie was surprised all the appliances actually worked.

Bonnie folded her arms.

“So whose place is this?” she said.

Marcy cracked an egg into the pan, humming a song Bonnie didn’t know.

Kara plopped down next to Finn. She squirmed, trying to get comfortable on the incredibly terrible sofa.

“Uh, what?” said Marcy.

Bonnie walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The inside was practically a wasteland. Just the eggs, a carton of milk, and two cases of strawberries all crammed into the middle shelf. Bonnie had zero room to judge. Bonnie and Peter’s fridge was mostly leftovers from takeout runs and cold pizza. Bonnie once went an entire month eating nothing but instant noodles because Peter was too busy with work to do any food shopping.

“You heard me, ya donk,” said Bonnie. “Whose place is this?”

Marcy rolled her eyes, nudging the frying eggs with a spatula.

“Chill, Bonnibel,” she said. “This place was totally abandoned when I found it.”

Bonnie grabbed the carton of milk. She unscrewed the cap and took a sniff. Bonnie wrinkled her nose at the gross sour stench of milk that was way past its expiration date. Probably chunky and disgusting. Bonnie knew nothing about vampire diets, but she doubted milk chunks were on the vampire food pyramid.

“And where exactly did you live before?” said Bonnie.

She tossed the carton into the trash.

“Around,” said Marcy. “I’ve got places all over.”

She likely intended for that to sound all cool and worldly, but Bonnie wasn’t impressed. Bonnie wasn’t even surprised. She’d already pegged Marcy for an aimless drifter. The kind of person who never stayed in one place for more than a few weeks.

Marcy plopped the eggs onto a plate.

Finn and Kara came running like beasts to a feast. It occurred to Bonnie that eggs were pretty much the only thing any of them had eaten that day. Another thing Simon and Marcy seemed to have in common for some reason.

Bonnie leaned against the counter.

“What about your parents?” she said.

She didn’t want to be grilling Marcy like this, but she needed answers. Things were getting rough. If the Lich killed all of them before Bonnie got all of her answers, she was going to be pissed.

Marcy shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, my dad’s a big bad demon and my mom’s—my mom’s not around,” she said.

Finn stopped shoveling eggs into his mouth, his brow furrowed with confusion.

“Wait,” he said. “Your dad’s a demon? That’s—that’s totally banyangles.”

Bonnie opened her mouth to give her standard “Demons aren’t real, ya donk” reply, but she stopped herself. Could she really say demons weren’t real? Could she? After everything they’d seen? No. No she couldn’t. Bonnie’s thin shell of skepticism had finally cracked. After all, the Lich was a demon. Only something otherworldly could have struck such primal fear into Bonnie’s heart. And as a scientist, wasn’t she obligated to change her view in response to overwhelming evidence?

Finn frowned, like he suddenly remembered why they were all there.

“What’s gonna happen to Billy?” he said.

Marcy perched on the edge of the kitchen table. She could have sworn they’d covered this before. But of course Finn was holding out hope. People always seemed to do that when it came to this supernatural stuff. But this was beyond science and beyond medicine. Finn needed a reality check.

“Billy’s gone,” she said. “He’s the Lich now.”

Finn jumped out of his seat. No. He couldn’t accept that. Not Billy. Finn always thought Billy would go out in a blaze of glory or something. Doing a sick back-flip into a pit of snakes or riding his motorcycle into a building full of demons with a bunch of explosives strapped to his back. Billy wasn’t the kind of guy who just died. He was the kind of guy who went out on his own terms, or at least Finn used to believe that.

“But Kara was…,” he started.

Marcy looked away.

“Possessed,” she said. “It’s different. Lich is just using Billy’s body. It’s bonzo, man, but there’s nothing we can do.”

Kara clenched her fist, her voice unusually calm.

“Of course we can do something,” she said. “We can kill the Lich. For Billy.”

They all looked at each other and nodded, a rare moment of complete cooperation. But as great as it felt to be on the exact same page, there were more pressing reasons to want the Lich dead. Starting with that mysterious book.

Bonnie opened the Enchiridion on the kitchen table. If they were truly going all the way, she had to assume there was some kind of magic spell or something in there. Some ritual that would turn the Lich to dust. Or maybe a defense in case the Lich tried to invade their heads? Anything they could use.

Unfortunately, there was no rhyme or reason to the layout. Half the pages were in some kind of ancient language Bonnie couldn’t translate with her phone. The chapters weren’t in a particular order and there was no glossary. From what Bonnie could understand, it seemed to be some kind of compendium of ancient esoteric knowledge. A collection of the arcane and the impossible with some moments of understandable science. There was also an entire chapter about how to kiss ladies for some reason. Bonnie lingered over that one because of how out of place it seemed.

“Oh dip,” said Finn.

Oh dip indeed. Bonnie thought getting her hands on the book would finally shine some light on all this crap. But in reality? Everything just made less sense in her head. She couldn’t put it together because there was still a huge piece missing. But what was that piece and where was that piece? What was in this book that the Lich wanted to get its grubby disgusting paws on? Bonnie doubted that thing was just a huge nerd with a fetish for ancient texts. Mostly because she was a giant nerd with a fetish for ancient texts and she refused to believe the Lich lurked the same forums she did.

Bonnie grimaced. Someone died for that book. The Lich was riding Billy’s body just to get his hands on it. Whatever happened next, Bonnie had to find out why this book was so important.

“You have to know something,” she said.

Marcy was sucking on a strawberry. She pulled it out of her mouth, laughed, and tossed the drained strawberry into the sink.

“Sorry, Bonnibel,” she said. “I’ve got nothing.”

She grabbed another strawberry and sank her fangs into it. She slurped for a few seconds before taking it out of her mouth. Marcy gestured with the half-drained strawberry like a pointer.

“We need Simon,” she said.

Finn spoke up before Bonnie could say anything.

“No way, dude!” he said. “You want Simon to get totes murdled? We can’t lead the Lich right to him. He’ll kill all of us.”

Kara flinched. Bonnie could tell what Kara was thinking: what the hell were they supposed to do? Eventually the Lich was going to find and probably kill all of them. It would be worse if Simon was included in that, but none of them were particularly eager for death-by-demon.

Finn shut the book and picked it up.

“We need to take this to the second brainiest person we know,” he said. “We’ve gotta know someone else with big nerd brain, right?”

Marcy snapped her fingers and pointed at Finn.

“I might know a guy,” she said.

Bonnie arched an eyebrow, instantly skeptical. She really didn’t trust anyone who was friends with a vampire, but why not give it a shot? One of Marcy’s buddies probably knew way more about this supernatural stuff than any of them.

At that exact moment, Marceline’s front door exploded open. It slammed against the wall hard enough to leave a crack.

Bonnie cried out and spun towards the sound, putting up her fists like a champion boxer.

Finn raised the book above his head like a makeshift club, ready to bash the intruder’s brains in with the surprisingly heavy ancient text.

Kara grabbed a chair from beside the kitchen table and brandished it like a battering ram.

Marcy hissed, her eyes narrowing to slits and her nostrils flaring as she went into spooky bat mode again.

A woman was standing in the doorway, her head dipped. She was slumped forward, practically hunch-backed from the weight of the backpack she was carrying. She was wearing a wide-brimmed yellow hat and a scarf around her neck. The woman slowly raised her head, revealing a pair of tired eyes with bags underneath.

Marcy’s face immediately returned to normal. She pressed both hands against her open mouth, her eyes burning with tears.

“Betty?” she said.

Betty managed to stand up straight. She spread her arms, her eyes widening.

“Oh my glob, I need a drink!” she said.

Betty wobbled for a minute, her eyes fluttering like she was about to pass out. Before anyone could move towards her, she toppled forward and hit the floor. She lay there, her massive backpack lying on top of her like a tortoise shell. Betty let out a groan.

“Oh crease,” she said.

She repeated the word over and over again, lying flat on the floor like a wounded animal. Or a woman who’d literally traveled miles to be there while lugging an enormous backpack.

Chapter Text

Kara pulled the backpack off Betty, Finn and Bonnie helped her up, and Marcy made some tea.
 
“You okay?”  said Kara. 
 
Betty was sitting at the kitchen table, her arms hanging limply at her sides and her shoulders slumped.  Her mouth was slightly open and her head was drooped forward.  If it hadn’t been for the flicker of life in Betty’s eyes, she could have passed as a corpse.  
 
“Teeeeaaaaaa,” Betty droned out.
 
Marcy didn’t even know why she had tea.  Simon must have left a canister of it the last time he was there.  
 
“What the crease, Betty?”  said Marcy. 
 
Betty lifted her head and squinted.  She looked like she’d walked for miles without a break. 
 
“Where’s Simon?”  she said.
 
Marcy’s shoulders stiffened.  She didn’t say anything.  She just stood in front of the stove with her back to Betty.  Watching the water boil, her mouth set in a line.  Bonnie was slightly caught off guard by Marcy’s behavior.  Since when did Marceline the Vampire not have a snarky comeback? 
 
It was all about dynamics, Bonnie realized.  Marcy’s dynamic with Bonnie was, well, totally infuriating.  Marcy liked prodding, pushing buttons, being a massive pain in Bonnie’s ass.  Finn got to see Marcy’s slightly more empathetic side topped off with an extra dose of snark.  Kara and Marcy barely interacted, but they seemed to have a kind of mutual respect that Bonnie didn’t understand.  Marcy was more careful with Simon, more sensitive to his emotions.  Betty and Marcy’s dynamic was completely different from anything else Bonnie had seen so far.  Fascinating. 
 
Betty folded her hands in her lap.  She looked more alert now, but still tired.  
 
“I know you’re pissed,” she said.
 
Marcy grabbed a cracked mug from the cupboard.  She glanced over her shoulder, startling everyone with a flash of her bat-face and an animalistic growl.
 
“Of course I’m pissed!”  she said.  “What the dip?” 
 
She poured the hot water into the mug, yanking the teapot around hard enough to cause several spills.  She didn’t seem to notice the mess she was making.  Not that Marcy would have cared.  She was gearing up for the rant of a lifetime. 
 
“First you leave Simon,” she said.  “And that’s just wow.  Banana-bread-bonzo.  Then you go totally dark and no-contact for years like some kind of--some kind of ding-dong ghost.” 
 
Betty sat up straight in her chair and folded her arms.  
 
“I didn’t ding-dong ditch Simon, Marceline,” she said.  “Where do you think I’ve been, genius?”
 
Marcy slammed the mug on the table.  A bit of tea sloshed over the side, but Marcy didn’t notice.  She was breathing heavily, her nostrils—narrow and rodent-like—flaring with every breath.  She looked like she wanted to smash something.  Smash someone.   
 
Bonnie took a step back.  Holy Glob.  Bonnie kept forgetting that Marcy wasn’t human.  If Marcy wanted, she could have killed all of them without breaking a sweat.  Bonnie remembered that moment at the pizza place.  She remembered how Marcy had rescued them from Kara.  Bonnie shuddered.  The memory was suddenly a lot less soothing.  Bonnie couldn’t imagine being Kara in that situation.
 
“Good question,” said Marcy.  “Where have you been, you big nerd?” 
 
Betty leaned back in her chair.  If she was intimidated by Marcy’s anger, she wasn’t showing it.  Maybe she was confident that Marcy would never rip her to shreds.
 
“Traveling,” said Betty.  “Trying to find what I need to help Simon.” 
 
Marcy’s face softened, but only a little.  
 
“You left him,” she said.
 
Betty pulled the mug towards her.  Looking at Betty’s face, Bonnie realized that Simon wasn’t that old.  It really must have been the crown messing with his physical appearance.  Because Betty couldn’t have been older than mid-forties.  
 
“I had to help him,” said Betty. 
 
Marcy let out a humorless laugh.
 
“No, you were scared,” she said.  “Scared of what was happening to him.” 
 
Betty nodded slowly.  She definitely looked her age, but her face had a lot more stress lines than Bonnie would have expected.  Betty hadn’t suffered the crown’s effects.  This was just a physical manifestation of what she’d been through.  Bonnie had zero doubt that Betty had been through hell on Simon’s behalf.
 
“Yeah, I was scared,” said Betty.  “But I wanted to find out more.  I needed to know there was a cure.” 
 
She pointed at her gigantic backpack.
 
Kara lugged the backpack across the room and plopped it down on the kitchen table.  Bonnie was afraid the table might collapse from the weight, but nothing happened.
 
Betty unzipped her backpack.  The second it was open, dozens of items tumbled out.  They slid off the table and tumbled to the floor.  Most of it was basic supplies—food and water—but there were also a few interesting bulky items.  Bonnie couldn’t even begin to imagine how Betty had carried all that stuff by herself.  Nerds like Bonnie and Betty weren’t exactly well-known for their physical strength.
 
“What the stuff is this biz?”  said Finn. 
 
He bent over and picked up one of the hard drives.  Finn turned it over in his hands.  It somehow looked both incredibly fragile and ridiculously resilient.
 
“Careful with that,” said Betty.
 
She snatched the drive out of Finn’s hands and placed it on the table.  Kind of ironic that she was pissed at Finn, given that the thing had been rattling around in her backpack for several days.  Betty was surprised it was still intact.
 
“This is a complete archive of everything I’ve found,” said Betty.  “This baby has everything we need probably.”   
 
Betty tapped the hard drive with her finger.
 
“The crown used to belong to some guy named Gunther,” she said.  “He was an apprentice to some guy who called himself a wizard.”
 
Bonnie snorted.  
 
“Wizards aren’t real, ya donk,” said Bonnie.
 
She didn’t want to sound like an asshole, but Bonnie had to draw the line somewhere.  If she just left herself open to everything, where would it end?  Goblins?  Poltergeists?  Fairies?  If Bonnie started believing in everything, she would be forced to abandon the entire concept of science.
 
Betty adjusted her glasses, giving Bonnie her best professor-stare.
 
“Called himself a wizard,” said Betty.  “Called himself.  This was a long time ago.  He could have been a scientist who liked playing with chemicals.  To the untrained mind, anything can be mistaken for magic.” 
 
She crossed her arms.
 
“But the crown is very real,” said Betty.  “The records are contradictory and incomplete, but I believe this Gunther person did something to the crown to make it like this.  It’s a curse.  The crown has been hella cursed since it was first made.” 
 
Marcy sat down across from Betty.  To Bonnie’s surprise, Marcy actually sat down in the chair like a normal non-vampire person.  She didn’t float or do any weird tricks.  This was the strangest day Bonnie had had in a very long time. 
 
“So what do we do about Simon?”  said Marcy. 
 
Betty tapped the hard drive.
 
“I was hoping he could help,” she said.  “With my research and his big brain and my big brain, I think we can crack this biz.” 
 
Finn nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
 
“Um, Simon’s kind of helping us with our biz,” he said. 
 
Betty turned her head to look at him, draping her arm over the back of her chair.
 
“Your Lich biz?”  she said.   
 
Kara crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.  
 
“How do you know about that?”  said Kara. 
 
Betty sighed.  
 
“You’re not the only ones who know about the Lich,” she said.  “That son of a blee-blop keeps popping up in my research.  I don’t think he has anything to do with the crown.  At least not here.”   
 
Bonnie stared at Betty.  They were both scientists.  They both took a sacred oath of skepticism.  How did Betty cope with knowing all of that was real?  Bonnie was barely holding it together, but Betty seemed so casual about all this supernatural crap.  How had Betty readjusted?  Maybe because Betty—unlike Bonnie—automatically had a good reason to readjust her world view?
 
Bonnie glanced at Marcy.  No, that wasn’t really true.  They both had something—someone--who forced that change in perspective.   
 
“What do you mean “here”?”  said Kara. 
 
Betty let out a long tired sigh.
 
“So you don’t know why The Lich wants the book, huh?”  said Betty. 
 
She got a series of head-shakes in reply.  Of course none of them knew.  It had been less than three days since all this started.  Hardly enough time to gather their wits, let alone figure out what the hell was going on in the mind of the Lich.
 
Betty leaned back in her chair.
 
“It’s complicated,” said Betty.  “You’ll need to see my research.  Otherwise you’re not gonna believe me.  Fair enough.”
 
Bonnie was surprised.  What could be so bizarre that Betty thought they wouldn’t buy it?  Something more insane than vampires, demonic possession, or cursed crowns?  That didn’t seem likely, but Bonnie trusted Betty’s judgment.  Plus Bonnie really really really wanted to see what was on that hard drive. 
 
“We can’t go back to Simon’s,” said Marcy.  “The Lich is on our asses.”
 
Betty started stuffing things back into her backpack.  She left the hard drive on the table.
 
“I have a friend and that friend has some things I could use,” she said.  “We don’t have to go back to Simon’s.  Not yet.  I just need a computer.”
 
Finn dug his battered old laptop out of his bag.  That laptop was old even before Jake gave it to Finn as a hand-me-down.  Finn was shocked that it still worked.  It was barely chugging along by this point, but it got the job done.
 
Betty frowned, but she took the laptop from Finn.  It wasn’t ideal.  Better than nothing, but not ideal.  
 
“I need forty minutes,” she said.
 
It actually took her two hours.
 

 
When Betty had everything set up, everyone gathered around the laptop so Betty could explain herself.  It was a wild ride.
 
“So there are these gems, right?”  said Betty. 
 
She pointed at an illustration on the screen.  It must have been hand-drawn by a five-year-old, but it got the message across.  It was a bunch of gemstones, each of them labeled in precise cursive that only Bonnie, Kara, and Betty could actually read.  Finn and Marcy got the gist of it.
 
“And each one of them is banana-bread powerful,” said Betty.  “Like supes powerful.  But they need a power source.  Like a—like a battery.” 
 
Bonnie frowned at the picture Betty was showing them.  It was a crude sketch of the Enchiridion with a bunch of holes in it.  Each hole was labeled with the name of one of the gemstones. 
 
“And that’s the battery?”  said Bonnie.  “How?” 
 
Betty brought up some scans of her old notebook and more rough sketches.  Over half of the stuff she’d found wasn’t even usable.  There was way too much supernatural crap going on in the world and only five percent of it was connected to Simon.  So Betty had spent those long years combing through archives, studying the arcane principals of “magic”, and basically nerding out more than she ever had in her whole entire life.  This was a brand new field of research.  Legendary.  If only Betty could have brought this into the wider scientific community. 
 
“From what I’ve seen, I’m pretty sure the Enchiridion exists in every possible universe,” Betty said.  “And in every possible universe, it works like a battery.  You plug the gems in and you can open a portal to, well, anywhere.  And you can bring things back and forth.” 
 
Finn clapped a hand to his cheek and inhaled sharply. 
 
“Oh crease!”  said Finn.  “That Lich guy’s gonna bring bad peeps into our universe?” 
 
Betty showed them some more sketches of the Enchiridion.  She actually had a glossary of the book’s contents and some “alternate pages”--whatever that meant—she found while investigating every single obscure library she could access.  Betty had to break at least seven different laws in thousands of places to get her hands on a lot of that forbidden knowledge.  She was still banned from that isolated mountain village in Tibet. 
 
“Probably,” Betty said.  “My money’s on blood beasts.  Have you ever seen a blood beast?  Freaking terrifying.” 
 
She pulled up a picture of a “blood beast”.  It was indeed the most terrifying thing any of them had ever seen.   
 
Bonnie was shaking, but not just from the picture.   
 
“So how do we stop him?”  said Bonnie.  “The Lich?  How do we roast his nuts?  Any ideas?” 
 
Betty shrugged.  She had tons of pictures, scans, and all sorts of cool stuff on that hard drive.  Graffiti from an ancient temple, ancient cave paintings, some cryptic diaries, records dating all the way back to before book-binding was even a thing.  The Enchiridion was one of the oldest artifacts in existence, second only to the Lich himself.   
 
“No idea,” Betty said.  “Have you seen this peep?  He’s literally a being of pure death and chaos.  He’ll mess us all up if we try to actually do something.” 
 
She brought up a picture of Simon’s crown.  Betty pointed at the screen, indicating the red gem in the center. 
 
“All he needs is that baby right there,” said Betty.  “The last gem.  So he can toast our bread.” 
 
Finn raised both of his hands. 
 
“Whoa, dude,” said Finn.  “No one’s bread is getting toasted.” 
 
He pointed at Betty. 
 
“You came back because you thought you could fix this,” said Finn.  “There has to be something in that nerd brain.” 
 
Betty tapped the side of her head, like she thought she could stimulate her own brain waves.   
 
“The Lich is a shadow,” said Betty.  “Years of research and all I could find was references to him existing “before there was anything”.” 
 
Finn slammed his fists on the table.  The laptop jumped at the impact, but Betty didn’t even flinch.
 
“So we just roll over?”  said Finn.  “No dipping way!”
 
Marcy grabbed Finn’s shoulder and pulled him away from the table.
 
“Chill out, my dude,” said Marcy.  “We’ll find a way.  We have to.”
 
She turned to Bonnie, her brow furrowed.  Marcy was actually thinking for once.  She was using her brain to come up with a plan instead of jumping into it.  Maybe Bonnie was finally rubbing off on her?
 
“We need a priest,” said Marcy.  “Who knows more about demons than a priest?” 
 
Betty shut Finn’s laptop, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
 
“No dice, Marcy,” said Betty.  “I’ve talked to, like, thirty priests.  They either think I’m nutso or I’m the one possessed.  Rude.”
 
Marcy was pulling out her phone.  Bonnie didn’t even know Marcy had a phone, because why would a vampire need a phone?  But Marcy was dialing on it like this was the most normal thing in the world.  It was one of those old flip phones, like the one Simon had.  Judging by the design, it was even older than the one Simon had.  It looked like Marcy had found it in a trash heap.
 
“My guy’s not a normal priest,” said Marcy. 
 
She put the phone to her ear and waited.  If she’d had a heart, it would have been pounding like a war drum.  Time to cash in that favor.  Marcy just hoped they were actually going to get somewhere.
 

 
Rain tapped the apartment door with her fist.  She called Jake’s name and paused.  No response.  But she knew Jake was home, because he was home most of the time.  
 
She pulled out her spare key and jammed it into the lock.  Rain really hated doing this.  She knew Jake gave her that key and everything, but she still felt kind of weird about going in there if he actually wasn’t home.  Jake kept rejecting the idea of sharing a home.  Rain was mostly okay with that because she knew Jake needed his space and Finn needed a good father figure.
 
She pushed open the door and went inside, slipping the key back into her pocket.  The apartment was dark.  Jake and Finn must have gone out somewhere.  
 
Rain started unbuttoning her coat.  Awesome.  She could wait.  Rain didn’t want to bike all the way back to her apartment.  It was way too cold out there.  Rain didn’t understand how anyone was wearing shorts in this weather.
 
She tossed her coat over the back of the couch.  Rain doubled over and hugged herself, a violent shudder skittering through her body.  Crap.  Why was it so cold in the apartment?  Had Jake forgotten to turn on the heat?  That sounded like something Jake would do.  His natural body temperature sometimes made him forget that the whole concept of “cold” didn’t only exist in movies. 
 
Another reason they needed to move in together, Rain thought.  Well, one reason among many.  
 
She yelled Jake’s name again.  If he was home—but taking one of his afternoon naps—Rain had a dozen things to talk to him about.  Her tarot cards had told her something interesting.  It was probably nothing, but this entire week had been unusually off.  There was some bad energy going around.
 
Rain grabbed the side of her head and let out a small groan.  Holy shit.  Speaking of “bad energy”, what the hell was she feeling right now?  It was like this pressure in her skull.  And her stomach was fluttering like she was about to puke.  What the heck?   
 
Rain pulled a small crystal out of her pocket.  She moved deeper into the apartment and shouted Jake’s name, the crystal clutched in her hand.  The panic was setting in.  And Rain knew she had no reason to panic, because none of this was abnormal.  So why did she feel like something was off?  
 
The crystal wasn’t helping.  Whatever bad energy was floating around that apartment, it was too powerful and oppressive for one crystal.  Rain wished she’d brought her entire menagerie.  She had tons of amulets that didn’t get a lot of everyday use.
 
She reached to flick on the lights.  But even with the apartment fully lit up, Rain couldn’t quench the throbbing fear in her chest.  She wanted to leave, drive back to her place, and grab every crystal and amulet she had.  But she also didn’t want to leave Jake or Finn.  And Rain was sure that both or either of them were in the worst trouble of their lives.
 
The bathroom door was halfway closed.  Rain crossed the room and opened it.  The bathroom could barely fit one person, so she didn’t expect anyone to be in there.  But she felt compelled to look, just like she felt compelled to stay in the apartment.  Rain could have called it a “hunch” or a “feeling”, but it wasn’t either of those things.  She squeezed the crystal tighter, resisting the urge to shut her eyes when she walked into the bathroom. 
 
Jake was lying on the floor.  He was curled up in a ball like he was in pain, but he wasn’t making any noise.  His chest was moving.  Jake was alive, but he was breathing slow, quiet, shallow breaths.  It was almost like he was intentionally trying to be quiet, which was the opposite of everything Rain knew about Jake.
 
She wanted to rush over to him, but something made her stay back.  Rain stood in the doorway, staring at Jake’s barely-moving form and not saying anything.  She thought he might not notice her if she didn’t draw attention to herself.  She still had the crystal in her hand.  Rain was already mouthing words, charging the crystal with intent as she held it.
 
Jake hoisted himself up on shaky arms and legs.  He stood on all fours with his back to Rain, his head dipped.  He looked so animalistic that Rain almost thought—for a split second—that she was staring at an enormous wolf instead of a person.
 
Jake twisted his head around at an unnatural angle to look at her.  His face was pale and sweaty, his eyes wide and filled with the maximum amount of terror.  Jake’s limbs were weirdly stiff when he moved, like he wasn’t really in control of anything other than his head.  Jake choked out some words, his throat drier than sandpaper.
 
“What the crease?”  said Jake.
 
He opened his mouth wider and spoke in a deep voice that sounded nothing like his own.
 
“You are mine, child,” he said.
 
Jake let out one shaky breath and fell back, collapsing onto the floor like a rag doll.  His legs were splayed out at strange angles and his arms were pointing straight in either direction.  His eyes were open, but there was barely any life in them.  Jake wasn’t moving.  Even his chest was suddenly very still. 
 
Rain finally let out the breath she’d been holding for a while.  She opened her palm, letting the crystal tumble out and hit the bathroom floor.  Rain felt the intent vanish.  But it didn’t matter.  Jake was going to need something a little stronger than garden variety witchcraft.

Chapter Text

Of all the places Bonnie expected Marcy to take her, a bar didn’t even crack her Top Ten.
 
Could vampires even get drunk?  That was the last question Bonnie expected to be asking herself, but there it was.  She was actually pondering if it was possible for a vampire to get wasted.  What the hell had her life turned into? 
 
Not to mention that all of them—minus Kara—weren’t old enough to drink.  It took thirty minutes for Bonnie to convince Finn and Kara to stay with Betty.  Bonnie was pretty sure bringing a seventeen-year-old boy into a bar was considered “crappy parenting”.  But then again, she wasn’t Finn’s parent, so maybe she got a pass?  Bonnie didn’t even know.  Parenting had always been kind of a confusing concept for her.  Her aunt and uncle hadn’t really done a lot of that.
 
“Marceline, what the dip are we doing here?”  said Bonnie. 
 
She shoved her hands into her pockets and lowered her head.  Finn had been overly enthusiastic about the disguises, but Bonnie wasn’t sure they should even bother.  The Lich could probably sense them or something.  But if it made Finn feel better, Bonnie could at least fake playing along.  She just didn’t like wearing Marcy’s clothes.
 
Bonnie was wearing a thick yellow parka and she had her hair pulled back into a ponytail.  The sunglasses were totally out of place, but they completed Bonnie’s bizarre outfit.  Her chance of being recognized had decreased by at least eighty-percent.  Unfortunately, Bonnie didn’t have time to be strategic about it.  She’d basically just grabbed the first clothes she saw before Marcy practically dragged her out of the house.
 
Marcy looked decidedly less ridiculous.  She was wearing a dark wide-brimmed hat, a red cocktail dress, and a leather jacket.  She almost looked like a model.
 
Bonnie tried not to stare.  Actually, scratch that.  Marcy did look like a model.  Beautiful and elegant.  Truth really was stranger than fiction.   
 
Marcy caught Bonnie looking at her and winked.
 
Bonnie folded her arms and tore her gaze away, her cheeks turning red.  
 
“Answer my question,” said Bonnie.
 
Marcy pointed at the man standing behind the bar.  Bonnie didn’t recognize the guy.  He had curly hair and blue eyes.  He was wearing a dark pink shirt and blue pants.   
 
Bonnie squinted in disbelief.
 
“That’s your guy?”  said Bonnie.  “The priest?” 
 
Marcy grabbed Bonnie’s shoulder and started guiding her through the crowd. 
 
“Only twice a week,” said Marcy.  “The rest of the time, he makes the best donking cocktails in the world.”
 
Bonnie thought for a minute, reflecting on classic vampire lore.  She’d never considered applying scientific principles to stuff she mostly got from classic novels and comic books, but that was another thing she had to get used to.  
 
“Doesn’t church hurt?”  Bonnie said.  “Don’t vampires burn if they go inside?”
 
Marcy rolled her eyes, her hand fastened around Bonnie’s wrist like a vice.  
 
“That’s demons, Bonnie,” Marcy said.  “Most of them.  Where do you think I go to hide from my dad?” 
 
Bonnie had to roll that around her head for a few minutes.  Not the whole “vampires don’t burn thing”.  Because, well, obviously.  That was basically Vampires 101.  Bonnie was surprised she forgot about that.  But this was the second—or third—time Marcy had mentioned her dad was a demon.  And now Bonnie was trying to wrap her brain around that brand new weirdness.  How the fuck did that even work?  Bonnie wasn’t an expert on vampire lore, but she was pretty donking sure that demons having vampire kids wasn’t part of it. 
 
“Wait, how’s your dad a demon?”  Bonnie said.
 
But it was too late.  They were already at the bar and Marcy was parking herself on a stool.
 
Bonnie sat down next to her, smoothing her parka and examining the area.  First rule of stealth:  always know your exits.  She wouldn’t let herself relax until she saw that big red neon Exit sign.  It was decently crowded in there.  If they actually had to bail, they could probably lose the Lich in a crowd.  
 
The bartender approached them.  He had a huge smile on his face that didn’t go away when he noticed who he was dealing with.
 
“Hey Marcy!”  he said.  “What’s up?  Did you get my pickles?  And my selfies-ies?”
 
Marcy tapped her fingers against the bar and rolled her eyes.
 
“Yeah, man, sure,” she said.  “That’s not why I’m here.”
 
She leaned forward and lowered her voice.  
 
“Okay,” Marcy said.  “This shit’s super bongo-bananas and we need your help.  You game?”
 
The man chewed his bottom lip for a second.
 
“Is this, uh, church biz?”  he said.  “Because the GF only wants me to do church biz.  You know how it is.”
 
Marcy hesitated.  Probably trying to figure out how badly she’d have to fudge the truth.  Honestly?  This required the minimum amount of fudging.  Demons were totally church biz, right?  Maybe not local church biz, but church biz. 
 
“I know you want in on this, dude,” Marcy said.  “I came to you, Pris.” 
 
Pris shook his head a little.
 
“It’s just—we’ve been having some real bad probs lately,” said Pris.  “I don’t wanna do anything to, ya know, get her cheesed off.  She is not happy that I’m still doing this bartender thing.” 
 
Marcy reached into her bag and pulled out a folded something.  Right before she slid it across the bar, Bonnie realized it was a photograph.  An old grainy photo that had been taken with a Polaroid camera.
 
“This is serious biz, man,” Marcy said.
 
Pris glanced at the photo for half a second, one eyebrow quirked.  He took a tiny step backwards and sucked in a sharp breath, like someone had jabbed a needle into his side.  He snatched the photo off the bar and shoved it into his pocket.  Bonnie could see beads of sweat on his forehead.  
 
“What the crease, Marceline?”  said Pris.   
 
He looked around, like he was freaking out over the idea that someone might have seen the picture.  But everyone was either chatting or three sheets to the wind.  No one gave a single solitary crap about the two girls sitting at the bar. 
 
Bonnie was actually shocked that her and Marcy hadn’t attracted more attention.  Bonnie thought she looked pretty forgettable, but Marcy was another story.  She estimated that Marcy’s outfit and hair had satisfied approximately five out of seven of the prerequisites for lust in sentient beings capable of sexual attraction.  But that was just science.  And, yeah, a little bit of Bonnie’s own personal totally-not-scientific opinion. 
 
“So are you gonna help us?”  said Marcy. 
 
Pris looked at her like he thought she was legitimately out of her mind.  Finally someone understood how Bonnie felt.
 
“Do you want me to, like, die?”  said Pris. 
 
Marcy rolled her eyes. 
 
“I’m cashing in a favor,” she said.  “Chill out, dude.  We talked about this on the phone.” 
 
Pris shook his head at her.
 
“Uh, no, we talked about you needing my help,” he said.  “I thought you wanted, like, a recipe or something.” 
 
He shuddered, haunted by the memory of whatever he saw in that Polaroid.
 
“Look, guys, this isn’t my scene anymore,” Pris said.  “Why not talk to Cosmo?  Cosmo’s cool.”
 
Marcy lightly tapped her fist on the bar.
 
“Because Cosmo’s doing mountain things in the mountains with his flock,” said Marcy.  “He’s not taking any calls.” 
 
Pris sucked in a deep breath.  He pulled the rag off his shoulder and started swabbing the bar with it, chewing on his lip.  He watched his arm go in circles over the same spot, mopping up a stain that wasn’t there.  Bonnie wasn’t a total expert on human behavior—only ninety-five percent—but she could sense him cracking like a walnut.
 
“Okay, okay,” Pris said.  “You got me.  But nothing dangerous, right?  Trust me, my GF will know.” 
 
Marcy leaned forward across the bar and groaned.
 
“Finally,” she said.  “And yeah, sure.  Nothing dangerous.  We just need some books.” 
 
Bonnie instantly perked up.  
 
“Books?”  said Bonnie.
 
Marcy straightened up and nudged Bonnie, a massive grin on her face.
 
“Yeah, old books,” said Marcy. 
 
Bonnie knew she’d spent the last few days reading—and also being in grave danger, but the reading was what stuck out to her the most—but the idea of getting her hands on more books almost made her entire body tingle with happiness.  One thing the supernatural and science had in common:  people who studied it loved keeping extensive records.  And Bonnie loved pawing through those extensive records.  It was a win-win for everyone involved. 
 
Marcy patted Bonnie’s shoulder, her grin widening. 
 
“Keep it in your pants, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.
 
Bonnie realized she’d been grinning like a lunatic and practically drooling.  Not just books, but old church books.  Probably older than anyone alive.  And filled with forbidden knowledge.  What more could anyone ask for?  Except unlimited private reading time. 
 

 
Finn’s phone rang three times before he picked it up.  He’d basically resolved himself to sitting on Marcy’s uncomfortable couch and doing jack-shit until Marcy and Bonnie came back. It wasn’t like he could go for a walk or anything like that. 
 
On the third ring, Finn lunged forward and snatched his phone off the coffee table.  He tumbled halfway off the couch in his hurry, nearly falling and slamming his head against the table.  That would have been a less-than-good outcome for that feat of gymnastics.   
 
It had to be Marcy and Bonnie, right?  They were calling to change their minds about him tagging along.  Sure, they’d already been gone for an hour.  But that didn’t mean anything.  Maybe they had some super important thing that only Finn could help with.  Something that involved punching or scaling a really high wall.  
 
Finn picked up the phone, his heart hammering at record-breaking speed.
 
“Guys?”  he said.
 
Kara came into the living room.  There wasn’t a lot to do in Marcy’s house.  There was a bedroom, but Marcy had stressed that under no circumstances was anyone to go in there.  That left the bathroom.      
 
Betty was asleep at the kitchen table, a half-drunk cup of tea in front of her.  Kara and Finn assumed Betty was going to do more research while Marcy and Bonnie were gone, but instead Betty just crashed.  Good for her.  She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. 
 
Finn held the phone with both hands, frowning.  At first he thought Bonnie—or whoever—had butt-dialed him.  He couldn’t hear anything or anyone on the other end.  But just as he was about to hang up, Finn heard what sounded like someone sobbing.  It was far away, but it was definitely there. 
 
“Rain?”  Finn said. 
 
The sobbing got louder, like the person had moved closer to the phone.  There was shuffling and what sounded like something being dragged.  And then finally someone spoke, so loud that it almost made Finn drop the phone.
 
“Finn,” said Rain. 
 
She sounded almost hysterical.  A huge gaping pit opened in Finn’s stomach at the sound of her voice.  
 
“Oh donk,” said Finn.  “What’s up?  Are you okay?”
 
Rain took an entire minute to answer.   
 
“Jake,” Rain managed.  “Oh my Glob.  Jake.” 
 
The pit in Finn’s stomach widened.  Throughout this entire thing, he hadn’t really thought about Jake.  Well, mostly.  He’d thought about Jake in passing a few times, the same way he thought about Jake most of the time.  Now Finn realized he was a total idiot.  He should have been thinking about Jake nonstop from the moment he found Billy’s body.   
 
“What’s—what happened to Jake?”  Finn said. 
 
He was scared shitless of the answer, but he braced himself.  Finn thought he was well-equipped to handle any fuckery this week threw at him:  demons, vampires, possession, Billy.  But Finn wasn’t even slightly prepared for this level of terrible.
 
Rain took another two minutes to choke out the answer.  She must have been sobbing even harder before she managed to call Finn.
 
“He’s—he was—oh Grod, Finn,” Rain said.  “I thought I could help him.  He was suffering and—and something had him.  Something bad.  So I—I tried to do something.  But he’s just—he just—oh Glob.” 
 
She sucked in a shaking breath.
 
“I don’t know where he is,” said Rain.
 
Finn could feel his eyes burning with tears.  He didn’t want to cry.  This wasn’t really the time to start sobbing his eyes out.  But Finn had to let it out.  If he didn’t cry, he was probably going to scream until his lungs exploded.  What could Bonnie have said?  “An acute stress response, very natural, blah blah blah science blah blah...” 
 
Finn tried to force a smile through his tears, but that only made him cry harder.
 
“I’ll be right there,” he said.
 
Finn hung up before he could think about what he was doing or what he’d just promised.  Finn didn’t want to just leave Rain like that, but he also didn’t want her to hear him sobbing.  That wouldn’t have been good for either of them.  And right now, Finn needed to unravel his brain.
 
Through tears, he told Kara everything.  Sure, they didn’t know it was the Lich.  This could have been an unrelated incident.  Just super bad timing.  But Finn shelved that argument as soon as it came out of his mouth.  He couldn’t even fall for his own logic.  And as the minutes passed, Finn just kept seeing Billy’s face in his head.  Billy’s lifeless eyes shining with the Lich’s influence, the skin literally rotting off Billy’s face as the Lich piloted his body. 
 
Kara grabbed both of Finn’s shoulders.
 
“You can’t go,” she said.
 
Finn tried to shake Kara’s grip, but of course that was impossible.  Kara was one hundred percent capable of keeping him there through sheer force.  And to make things ten times worse, he knew she was totally right:  he couldn’t go.  Finn promised Bonnie and Marcy that he’d stay there.  He knew it was dangerous out there, that he’d probably die or worse if he went outside.
 
“I can’t just let Jake get donked up,” said Finn. 
 
He tried—and failed—to shake Kara’s grip again.
 
“Look, it was only super-mega dangerous because we didn’t know where or who the Lich was messing up,” said Finn.  “Right?  But now we know he’s all up in Jake’s head, so he can’t catch us unawares and bake our beans.” 
 
He ignored the one thought jumping around his head:  Jake is dead.  Jake is dead.  Jake is dead.  The Lich got him.  The Lich got him.  He’s dead. 
 
Kara bit her lip.  Oh dip.  Finn was making a lot of sense.  If they knew exactly who the Lich was piloting, where was the danger?  Of course, this whole thing was one hundred percent a trap.  But was it a trap if they knew it was a trap?  
 
“We have to prepare,” Kara said.
 
Finn was relieved when Kara let go of his shoulder.
 
“Awesome,” said Finn.  “Um, how?”
 
Kara went into the kitchen and pointed at Finn’s laptop.
 
“Anti-demon research,” she said.  “Holy water and stuff.”
 
Finn smiled.  Bonnie would have been so proud of them.  They were actually thinking this through.  Making plans, pacing themselves.  The Bonnibel Method.
 
“What about her?”  said Finn. 
 
He gestured towards Betty.  The last thing he wanted was to wake her up.  Betty definitely wasn’t ready for some super-dangerous demon-fueled adventure.  She was better off spending a few hours in downtime.  Finn knew the feeling.  He’d worked long shifts before.
 
Kara glanced at Betty’s sleeping body and shrugged.
 
“She’ll be fine,” said Kara.  “No one knows about this place and the Lich isn’t after her, I think.” 
 
Finn didn’t like the uncertainty in Kara’s voice, but it wasn’t like either of them had a choice.  Kara wasn’t letting Finn leave the house by himself and there was no way Finn was staying there while Jake was in danger.  Could they have waited until Marcy and Bonnie got back?  Totally.  Did Finn want to get into an hour-long argument with Bonnie about morality and logic and blah blah blah psychology?  Of course not.  
 
Finn looked up how to holify water.  While he was reading a very long and detailed tutorial, Kara started searching the house—including Marcy’s forbidden bedroom—for supplies.
 
Kara could already feel the guilt bubbling in her chest.  Bonnie and Marcy were going to be pissed.  But if they ended up saving Jake, it was worth it.  Jake was always worth it.

Chapter Text

Peter was sitting in a cafe, a steaming peppermint latte in front of him.
 
He was on his phone, trying again to get in contact with Bonnie.  Seriously, where the hell was she?  Bonnie never ignored his texts.  Mostly because he was pretty much the only person who texted her.  
 
Peter chewed his bottom lip.  Oh Glob.  Bonnie was a smart woman.  She could take care of herself, right?  So why was Peter getting antsy over a few unanswered texts?  He wanted to believe it was just the vampire thing freaking him out, but it was deeper than that.  Peter had this pit in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. 
 
He looked around.  This was one of Bonnie’s favorite hangouts.  Tea, coffee, and scones.  Perfect combo for a rainy day.  Bonnie had zero clue that Peter went there by himself.  No special reason.  Peter just really liked the coffee.  
 
Daniel brought Peter a fresh plate of scones.  Daniel had his hair pulled back into a messy bun with a rainbow-colored scrunchy.  It wasn’t a bad look for him.  Better than the iconic bandanna he usually wore during working hours. 
 
“Something up?”  said Daniel. 
 
Peter reluctantly flipped his phone over and placed it on the table.  
 
“Can I give you some hot biz, Danny?”  said Peter.
 
Daniel looked over his shoulder.  The cafe was mostly empty.  There were two teens, a couple of retirees, and a sad-looking girl with poofy hair hunched over her mocha at a corner table.   
 
“I-I guess?”  said Daniel.
 
Peter hesitated.  He’d known Daniel for years and mostly by accident.  Did Daniel even know that Peter and him were in some of the same online social groups?  Or was Peter the only one who’d figured it out due to Daniel’s obvious—and overused—screen name?  “AbraDaniel”?  Really?  It was literally just Daniel’s last name in front of his first with one letter changed. 
 
“There’s a vampire in town,” said Peter. 
 
Daniel’s eyes widened.  He leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the table with both hands.   
 
“Wowzers,” he said.  “For reals?  For reals for reals?” 
 
Peter nodded.  He already regretted opening his big dumb mouth, but he felt like Daniel should know.  It was part of Peter’s unspoken moral code.  
 
“Her name’s Marceline,” said Peter.  “Ring any bells?” 
 
Daniel furrowed his brow.  He didn’t really keep up with that stuff like he was supposed to.  He had a lot going on in his life:  working at the cafe, theater classes, his dragging career as a magician.   
 
“Hunson Abadeer?”  said Daniel. 
 
Peter frowned and gave another slow nod.  He was surprised when he found out.  But it made a twisted kind of sense.  Peter had been sensing something weird in the air for a while.  He thought it was just the usual vampire stink, but the vibe was a little off.   
 
“Wow, that’s banyangles,” said Daniel.  “What are you gonna do?” 
 
Peter shook his head.
 
“I don’t know, man,” he said.
 
Daniel would have loved to continue the conversation, but the sad girl with the poofy hair was trying to get his attention.  Daniel rushed to take care of her.  The cafe was more understaffed than normal.  Thank Grod it was so early in the day.
 
Peter drank half of his coffee, nibbled on a scone for five seconds, and decided he wasn’t really hungry or thirsty.  He left quickly, leaving a hefty tip for Daniel.  Peter wanted to be in the mood for coffee and scones, but he just wasn’t feeling it today.
 
He made sure to grab his backpack on the way out.  It was heavy.  If Peter had to guess, it was probably all the vampire-hunting gear.  At least he could keep the knives—the blades infused with holy water—clipped to his belt and hidden under his shirt.  The stakes were a lot harder to conceal, so Peter just stuffed them—and everything else—into one of his old backpacks.  Better safe than dead.
 
The street outside was deserted.  Peter walked for a few feet, checking his phone again.  Still no replies from Bonnie.  Where the hell was she?  Was her phone turned off?
 
Peter wasn’t looking where he was going.  He nearly barreled into someone walking in the opposite direction.  Peter stopped at the last second, jerking his head up and muttering an apology.  In Peter’s defense, he probably wouldn’t have seen them even if he hadn’t been glued to his phone.  It was really foggy out, so foggy that Peter could barely see three feet in front of him.  That explained the lack of foot traffic or cars.
 
Peter squinted, slipping his phone into his pocket.  The person standing in front of him hadn’t been walking, he realized.  They were just standing there like they were frozen, standing there deliberately like they saw Peter coming and wanted to get in his way.  And now Peter was staring directly into the person’s familiar face. 
 
“Jake?”  he said.
 
The second the name left Peter’s mouth, his blood froze.  No.  The hair was right and the clothes were familiar.  But the eyes?  The eyes were glowing a faint green.  Jake’s nose was bleeding and his face was unnaturally pale.   
 
“Peter,” said the thing. 
 
The voice was raspy, deep, and harsh.  It sounded nothing like Jake. 
 
Peter instinctively clutched at the cross around his neck, but of course he wasn’t wearing one.  Peter wasn’t even sure a cross would have protected him.  Those stories about crosses and sacred ground repelling demons were mostly folktales.  But it still would have been nice to have one. 
 
“Lich,” said Peter. 
 
Lich-Jake smiled at him.  
 
“Good evening, Peter,”  said Lich-Jake.
 
Peter didn’t say anything.  He was mentally calculating how long it had been since this happened.  The Lich couldn’t have been inside Jake for too long.  Jake’s body hadn’t yet started to decay from prolonged occupation.  
 
He slid his hand across his chest, gently nudging his fingers under his coat.  Peter didn’t take his eyes off Lich-Jake as he moved. 
 
“I’m sure we can come to some kind of, um, arrangement?”  he said.  “How about this?”
 
Peter tried to smile.  
 
“You get out of my friend and I don’t banish you to the dark realm from whence you came, demon,” said Peter.  “Deal?” 
 
Lich-Jake laughed.  He was shorter than Peter in this form, shorter and way less intimidating.  But Peter wasn’t dumb enough to let his guard down.  There had to be a reason the Lich decided to pilot Jake.  And Peter probably wasn’t going to like it.
 
“Do you even know?”  said Lich-Jake.  “Do you even know where I come from, Peter?” 
 
He reached forward and touched Peter’s forehead.  Peter felt a wave of pure ice skitter through his body.  The sensation was so unfamiliar and unpleasant that Peter froze in place, his hand halfway under his jacket and his teeth clenched.  It didn’t feel like a sudden drop in temperature.  It felt like the cold was coming from inside his body, like something under his skin was spewing ice.  It only lasted for two seconds, but it was one of the worst things Peter had ever experienced. 
 
“I was here when the world took its first breath,” said Lich-Jake.  “And I will be here when the final light is extinguished.” 
 
Peter thrust his hand under his coat and whipped out a flask of holy water.  He rolled his eyes. 
 
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Peter.
 
He unscrewed the flask and thrust the contents at Lich-Jake.  Peter silently apologized to Jake.  This was always the worst part. 
 
Lich-Jake jerked backwards, his nose gushing blood.  He let out a noise that sounded like air escaping from a corpse.  His skin sizzled and burned where the holy water touched it, a dark patch appearing on Lich-Jake’s exposed neck and cheek. 
 
Peter stood there with the flask in his hand and grinned.  That was the good stuff.  The best and most potent holy water money could buy.  Back in the day, people like Peter used to dunk possessed people in tubs of that stuff.  They stopped because, well, humans couldn’t breathe underwater.  Killing the person and the demon kind of defeated the purpose.  Especially when the demon just happened to be possessing a young child, which was often the case a long time ago. 
 
Lich-Jake laughed and rubbed his cheek.  The patch was already fading and his skin wasn’t burning anymore.   
 
“You are afraid,” said Lich-Jake. 
 
Peter glanced at the flask.  Crap.  He really thought that was going to buy him more time.  But Lich-Jake had recovered in just a few seconds.  Not enough time for Peter to grab something more useful from his bag of tricks.   
 
Lich-Jake grabbed Peter’s face in his hands. 
 
“You are weak,” said Lich-Jake.  “You cannot stop me, Peter.”
 
Peter wanted to answer, but his tongue was frozen in his mouth.  His limbs refused to move.  When Lich-Jake let go of him, Peter just crumpled to the ground like a plastic bag. 
 
“As you begin, you must fall,” said Lich-Jake.  “I am the end of all things, come to consume you.” 
 
Peter tried to get up, but his body refused to move.  He was shaking violently from a nonexistent drastic drop in temperature.  He was cold, colder than humanly possible.  So cold that Peter was sure he was about to freeze to death.  He was getting the sensation of freezing to death without the death part, which was somehow worse. 
 
Lich-Jake turned and started walking away, his hands shoved into his pockets.  He paused and looked over his shoulder. 
 
“All things and all worlds must die, Peter,” he said.  “And I am the death of all worlds.” 
 
He walked away at a leisurely pace, like he wasn’t in a hurry to reach his destination. 
 

 
Bonnie plopped another pile of old books onto the table.  She had the biggest smile on her face, even as a cloud of dust almost choked her to death. 
 
“Section C to D!”  she said.
 
Thank Glob everything was in alphabetical order and separated by date.  The church had way too many ancient texts, most of them in some obscure dead language that Bonnie just happened to know.  There were also some scrolls and pieces of scattered parchment, but Bonnie hadn’t touched any of those yet.  She was afraid they might fall apart in her hands if she did. 
 
They were still dressed in their bar disguises, except Pris had loaned Marcy his coat.  Marcy was wearing the coat over her shoulders, her hair freed and flopping down the back of her neck. 
 
Marcy groaned and collapsed across the table.  They’d been at this for hours.  Just sitting in that tiny back room and reading reading reading.  Nothing to break up the monotony.  Except Bonnie doing the cutest little dance whenever she found something interesting. 
 
“Are we done yet?”  said Marcy. 
 
Bonnie shook her head and tapped the pile of books.
 
“Nope,” she said.  “We’re still in the 1600s.” 
 
Marcy pressed her cheek against the table and let out another frustrated groan.  When Pris said they’d be looking at books, she pictured a few modest stacks of ancient texts.  But this?  This was a fucking library.   
 
Bonnie leaned forward, propping her elbows on the stack of books.
 
“Isn’t this bonzo-banana?”  said Bonnie.  “It’s, like, a brand new world of scientific study.” 
 
Admitting that almost caused Bonnie actual physical pain.  There was so much knowledge here, so much history.  But if Bonnie tried to share any of it with her colleagues in the scientific community, she was probably going to get laughed off the forums.  Ghosts?  Demons?  Vampires?  Witches?  Even the most open-minded scientist wasn’t going to buy any of this.  
 
Bonnie skipped—actually skipped—back to the shelves to grab a few more books. 
 
Marcy stared at the back of Bonnie’s head.  The tough part about being a vampire was that no one really cared.  After the initial shock wore off, it just became one of those things.  Floating?  Shapeshifting?  Old news.  It stopped being a novelty and suddenly the ladies weren’t interested.  The guys never really stopped bugging her, but the ladies seemed to get bored extra fast.  Except Bonnie.   
 
“So, uh, science,” said Marcy.  “How did Bonnibel get into beakers and test tubes?” 
 
Bonnie dropped two more books on the table.  She squinted at Marcy, like she was scanning for bullshit.  But the question seemed totally innocent.  And Marcy genuinely wanted Bonnie to explain her love of science. 
 
“I guess my uncle?”  said Bonnie.  “He was kind of a huge science nerd.” 
 
She ran her finger across the spine of a book, a slight smile on her face.  No one ever asked Bonnie about her family.  Peter respected Bonnie’s privacy too much to prod, Finn had zero interest in Bonnie’s past, and Max couldn’t have cared less.   
 
“We lived in the middle of nowhere,” said Bonnie.  “Not much to do ‘round those parts.  I used to explore.  Sometimes I found things.  Old parts.  Magazines.  I made things.” 
 
She blushed, realizing she’d just revealed more about her past to Marcy than she ever had to anyone else in her entire life.  No one really wanted to know about her life, where she grew up, her family.  No one needed to know.  It wasn’t like Bonnie’s falling-out with her family was particularly exciting.  It was the kind of story that people heard over and over again.  She wasn’t special. 
 
Marcy leaned her head on her arm and smiled.
 
“That’s donking aborbs, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.  
 
Bonnie shoved her face into a book to avoid making eye contact with Marcy.  
 
“Read fast,” said Bonnie. 
 
Marcy grabbed a book and opened it.  These books were almost impossible to read.  Apparently no one knew how to get straight to the point.  
 
Bonnie peeked at Marcy over the top of her book.  She was pretty sure that Marcy had been doing the “flirting” thing for a while, but she couldn’t be one hundred percent certain.  Social dynamics between friends were so needlessly complicated.  It was difficult to measure intent.  Or maybe Bonnie was just a little dense because she’d never really had any close friends or a non-platonic relationship.  The best course of action seemed to be data collection.  That was always the best course of action. 
 
“So what about you?”  said Bonnie.
 
Marcy skimmed through another page of over-complicated language. 
 
“Me?”  said Marcy.  “I, uh, got turned into a vampire about a thousand years ago.  I think.  Time is weird.” 
 
Bonnie put down her book, her brow furrowed.  She was surprisingly unfazed by the fact that Marcy was apparently a thousand years old.  That wasn’t the part that she had to think about for a minute.
 
“Wait, you weren’t always a vampire?”  said Bonnie.
 
Marcy rolled her eyes.
 
“Um, duh,” said Marcy.  “What the frizz, Bonnibel?  You think I was born a sexy vampire lady?  How would that even work, weirdo?” 
 
Bonnie thought for a second.  Yeah, Marcy was right.  Nothing about that made any sense.  But if Bonnie accepted that vampires were real in the first place, people being born vampires didn’t seem too far-fetched.  
 
“What happened?”  said Bonnie. 
 
Marcy hesitated.  She really didn’t like telling this story.  Not that people usually asked.  Marcy had pretty much blocked out that part of her history.  Sure, being a vampire was totes fun and she enjoyed the hell out of it every second of every day.  But she didn’t like thinking about how she got there.
 
“There was this super bad dude,” said Marcy.  “I guess he called himself, like, the Vampire King or something?”
 
She touched the two marks on her neck.  They were probably never going to heal.  On the bright side, they kind of looked like a cool tattoo.  
 
“I was hunting him,” said Marcy.  “I hunted vampires.  That was totes my jam back in the day.” 
 
She shrugged.
 
“Big dude got me in a tough spot,” said Marcy.  “I got him, but I guess he got me too.”
 
Bonnie swallowed.  For some reason, she hadn’t expected the story to sound so brutal and depressing.  She wondered what she would have done in that scenario.
 
“That’s awful,” said Bonnie.  
 
Marcy rubbed the back of her neck and smiled apologetically.
 
“Yeah,” she said.  “Guess it is, Bonnibel.”
 
Bonnie returned to her book, slightly uncomfortable.  Well, now they were even.  They both knew something deeply personal about each other.  That probably meant they were bonded for life or something.  Bonnie still hadn’t cracked the relationship code, but she was getting there.  
 
Marcy skimmed another page.  Was it just her imagination or were the paragraphs getting longer?  She didn’t know why she even bothered.  They knew the Lich was older than the 1500s, possibly older than the written word.  But Pris promised—or at least kind of promised—some new info.  
 
After about thirty minutes, Bonnie grabbed another book.  Most of the books were untitled and there was no author listed.  Reading through them, Bonnie was starting to understand why Pris was so well-versed in the world of the supernatural.  Bonnie couldn’t take all of those accounts at face value, but she had seen a lot of that stuff up close.  She was starting to wonder about all the paranormal stories she’d heard over the years, the ones she’d laughed at.  How many of them were true? 
 
Bonnie flipped open the book.  The introduction and the first few chapters seemed to be in Latin, but the others were in a variety of languages.  Skimming through the pages, Bonnie noticed the abrupt language shift between paragraphs.  One paragraph would start and finish in Arabic, followed by a paragraph in English.  And as Bonnie progressed through the pages, she realized that the language was getting more modern.  She recognized common slang from the fifties on some of the later pages. 
 
She went back to the first page and read carefully.  After a few minutes, Bonnie slammed the book on the table. 
 
Marcy raised her head, peeking over a thick book written in some language she could barely read.  After being alive for over a thousand years, Marcy should have been able to read every language in existence.  But stuff like that wasn’t really her jam.  She’d basically spent those thousand years partying, banging, and fighting vampires.
 
“Oh my Glob!”  said Bonnie. 
 
She turned the book around and pointed at the page she was looking at.
 
“This book is all about the Lich,” she said.  “It’s filled with encounters.”
 
Bonnie started skimming, her heart thumping at max speed.  This wasn’t just a journal.  It was a timeline.  Most of the encounters were disjointed and confusing, but there were notes—also written in multiple languages—in the margins and some clarifying illustrations.  There were a few encounters that didn’t seem to involve the Lich, but most of them talked about the Lich in deliberate detail.  The book spanned several centuries, the very last page covering a few scattered sightings in the seventies. 
 
“Wow, that’s nutso,” said Bonnie.  “He’s been moving.”
 
She ran her finger across the page like she was tracing an invisible map.  There was a pattern to most of the later encounters, a trail to follow.  At some point before the encounters in the book stopped, the Lich had started traveling to specific places.  It took Bonnie a minute to understand why.
 
“The book,” she said.  “He’s been following the ding-dang-donking book.  The Enchiridion.”   
 
The smile left her face.  Most of those stories did not have a happy ending.  The Lich was a being of pure destruction, leaving a path of death and suffering.  Pretty much every story ended with at least one person dead, traumatized, or missing.  Entire towns were wiped off the map, information destroyed, lives lost. 
 
Marcy cracked her knuckles.   
 
“So what are we doing to waste that son of a blee-blop?”  said Marcy.  “Come on, Bonnibel.  There has to be something in that big science brain.”
 
Bonnie slumped in her chair.  She really thought she found something.  And she did, it just wasn’t the something she needed.  What was it that her uncle used to say about information collecting?  Something about how sciencing got more difficult the more you knew? 
 
“I got nothing,” said Bonnie.  “It’s totes blooby, Marceline.  I ding-dang goofed it.”   
 
Marcy got out of her chair and went over to Bonnie’s side of the table.  She put both hands on Bonnie’s shoulders and squeezed them.
 
“Hey,” said Marcy.  “You didn’t goof it, okay?”
 
Bonnie touched Marcy’s hand and stared straight ahead.
 
“But I did,” she said.  “I don’t have a plan.  I don’t know what to do.”
 
She groaned in frustration, shoving her hands into her hair.
 
“Do we, like, give the Lich the book?”  said Bonnie.  “Is that what we do?  Or do we try to waste him?  Ugh.  What would Simon do?” 
 
Marcy leaned forward, her hands still on Bonnie’s shoulders.  Her face was suddenly way closer to Bonnie’s in a way that made Bonnie blush.
 
“You don’t need Simon, nerd,” said Marcy.  “I know you can do this, Bonnibel.  You’re the jazz.” 
 
Bonnie stood up abruptly, almost toppling her chair over.  She didn’t want Marcy to let go of her, but Marcy’s closeness was making it really hard to focus.  And Bonnie couldn’t admit that because it sounded ridiculous.
 
“Yeah,” said Bonnie.  “I am the jazz.  I’m the donking best.” 
 
She shoved the book into her bag.  Pris didn’t give them the go-ahead to take anything, but this was kind of an emergency.  Pris would understand, right?  Sometimes rules—even library rules—had to be broken.
 
“Let’s get that son of a blee-blop,” said Bonnie. 
 
She grabbed Marcy’s wrist and led her out of that cramped back room.  The thing forming in Bonnie’s head was less of a plan and more of a desperate hope, but it was all they had.
 

 
Rain was crumpled on the bathroom floor, her back against the sink.  Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving, but she was alive.  
 
Finn knelt next to Rain, gently trying to shake her awake.  He feared the worst, but he also didn’t know what the worst even was yet.  All Finn knew was that Jake wasn’t in the apartment and that terrified him.  
 
Finn gritted his teeth.  How could he be so stupid?  Jake was supposed to be the one who goofed up.  No, that wasn’t entirely true.  Jake was a good older brother, probably the best.  Jake tried his best with what little he had.  But he was always a brother to Finn and hardly ever a parent.  
 
“What’s wrong with her?”  said Finn. 
 
He checked her pulse again.  Rain’s heart was still beating, but she seemed to be in shock.  
 
Kara was examining a patch of floor.  She picked up a torn piece of cloth and held it up.  Kara couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was from Jake’s jacket.  There were also a few drops of blood on the tiles. 
 
Rain finally opened her eyes.  She looked directly at Finn, her brow furrowed. 
 
“Jake?”  she said. 
 
Finn swallowed and shook his head.  He’d texted Jake a dozen times before they got to the apartment.  No answer.  Finn had tried to be subtle, asking Jake where he was, what they should have for dinner, etc.  Trying to pretend he didn’t know what was happening.  But nothing worked. 
 
Rain scrambled to her feet, grabbing the sink for support.  She wasn’t physically hurt, but that entire encounter had sucked out all of her energy.  It was a draining combo of trying to keep herself protected with what little power she had and attempting to yank the Lich out of Jake’s body.  Unsurprisingly, impromptu exorcism without proper equipment plus weak protection spells weren’t exactly a safe combination.  At least the Lich had left her alone, but Rain couldn’t be sure if it was because of the amulet she was holding or if the Lich had simply decided she wasn’t worth it. 
 
Either way, Rain reached into her bag and pulled out two crescent moon amulets along with a tiny bundle of sage.  She handed the amulets and the bundle to Finn.  Rain always kept at least two spare amulets with her at all times.  She never thought she’d actually have to use them. 
 
“Keep the sage in your pocket,” said Rain.  “Burn it if you feel unsafe.” 
 
She pulled something else out of her bag:  a small vial of salt and dirt.  Common kitchen salt combined with dirt from a graveyard.  Rain handed the vial to Kara. 
 
“For emergencies,” said Rain.  “If the Lich tries to get inside you, swallow that with some holy water.  It should force him out.”
 
Finn stared at the sage and amulets he was holding. 
 
“Whoa,” he said.  “You just have all this stuff?  That’s kind of banana-bread.”
 
Rain let out a weak laugh.  She was still holding onto the sink for support.
 
“Have to be ready for anything,” she said. 
 
Rain flinched.  Except the Lich.  Rain wasn’t ready for the Lich.  Oh Grod.  Rain could have actually done something if she didn’t freak out like that.  She was lucky to be alive.  That could have gone so much worse for everyone.  Hopefully the charm Rain had managed to slip into Jake’s jacket pocket was doing its work.  Rain had slipped it in there weeks ago and Jake probably hadn’t noticed.  With all the junk—loose change, candy wrappers, expired coupons—in Jake’s pockets, of course he wouldn’t notice a tiny bundle of herbs and flowers. 
 
Finn and Kara put on their amulets.  Finn slipped the little bundle of sage into his pocket—he already had a lighter that he never really used—and Kara took the vial.  
 
“So how do we find Jake before the Lich toasts our buns?”  said Finn. 
 
Rain handed Kara and Finn some holy water.  She gave them one flask each.  Rain would have given them more, but it was all she had.  Rain didn’t usually need buckets of holy water.  
 
“And what do we do with this guy?”  said Kara. 
 
Finn chewed his lip.  He knew Kara and Rain weren’t going to like this.  But he’d been thinking about it since he left Marcy’s house.  Bonnie would have had some brilliant science plan, but Finn was doing the best he could with what he had.  
 
“I think we should give him the book,” said Finn. 
 
Rain and Kara stared at him.  They didn’t say anything.  They just stared, their faces totally blank.
 
Finn raised both hands.
 
“Okay, okay, hear me out,” said Finn.  “This guy wants to totally bake our beans, right?  And he’s in Jake right now.  So if we give him the book, he’ll let us all ago.”
 
Rain looked at Finn like he was a complete dumbass.
 
“And then he’ll donk up the entire world probably,” said Rain.  “We can’t let the Lich get his hands on that book, Finn.  Only bad things will happen.”
 
Finn shook his head.
 
“Not if we stop him,” said Finn.  
 
Rain gave Finn a sympathetic look.  She understood where the poor kid was coming from.  If she could have solved this by handing over the Enchiridion?  She would have done it in a heartbeat.  Jake was always worth it.  But.  This wasn’t just about some stupid book.  Dealing with demons was always bad news. 
 
“That’s a huge if, Finn,” said Kara.  “Stuff is totes blooby right now.  We can’t take any chances.  We can’t let the Lich have what we wants.” 
 
Finn’s voice shook and cracked.
 
“So we just—we just let that donking bean-hole have Jake?”  said Finn. 
 
Rain grabbed Finn’s shoulder.  She let go of the sink, wobbling slightly on her legs.  
 
“No,” she said.  “We will save Jake.  I promise.” 
 
Rain pulled one last thing out of her bag.  It was a silver dagger, the blade infused with holy water.  Rain didn’t want to use that.  She was praying that she didn’t have to.  But the situation had become unpredictable.   
 
Rain clipped the dagger to her belt.  Rain’s first priority—along with rescuing Jake—was keeping Finn safe.  It was what Jake—the real Jake—would have wanted.

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Simon waved a hand in front of his nose. Holy crud. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't the stink of rotting entrails. That did make sense–he was technically inside a giant creature's digestive system, or at least where a digestive system should have been–but he was still caught off guard. Golb didn't have anything remotely resembling internal organs. So why did it smell so gross in there?

He threw off his cloak, swabbing his brow with one hand. Okay. Simon had one job to do. He'd been preparing for this day since, well, since the day he started studying the paranormal. Unfortunately, this wasn't anything like the simulations he sometimes ran in his head. Simon was pretty good at handling those scenarios. But Golb was–literally and figuratively–a different beast. Simon didn't have a magical fail-safe plan. And why would he? Only a truly warped and desperate mind would summon a powerful beast of chaos.

Betty. Simon expected more of a reaction when he showed up. Maybe the sight of him would break her confidence, would finally show her exactly what she was doing and why it was a bad idea. But Betty just kept flipping pages, totally engrossed in the Enchiridion. Simon couldn't imagine how she got her hands on that book.

“Betty,” he said.

He crawled towards her, pressing both hands against the walls. He'd basically exhausted his willpower just getting in there. And now that he was face-to-face with his one and only love? Simon didn't know what he could say to her. It had been, what? Years? Decades?

Simon still remembered how beautiful she looked the first time they met on that crowded university campus. He didn't want a relationship. People like him–smart, capable, full of ideas and dreams–didn't have relationships. They had divorces and middle school crushes and high school sweethearts who went off and got married to someone else. Or at least that was what Simon told himself. Maybe it would have been better if he kept believing that, if he stayed away from Betty entirely and continued working on his degree. It was ironic, just thinking about how many ways their story could have branched off if Simon had kept the promise he made to himself.

“Betty,” he said again.

He reached for her and Betty looked up.

“I'm almost done,” she said. “Just gimme a ding-dang second, okay?”

Simon jerked his hand back. He used to love that focused look, the way her hair fell over her face when she was engrossed in a book. If he was being honest? He still loved it. Even when the world was falling apart, Simon loved Betty's concentration face.

“No,” said Simon. “Betty, I–”

Betty waved her hand at him, like he was a fly buzzing around her head.

“I can do this,” said Betty. “I can–I can fix it. Just give me a minute!”

She let out a frustrated shout, her grip on the book tightening. What the *crease? Why wasn't it working? Betty thought she did everything right. Her calculations were perfect. The dimensional rift, the awakening of old magic.

Simon tried to grab the book, but Betty held it close to her chest.

“You're not real,” said Betty. “Or, I mean, you won't be. If you give me a second.”

Simon shook his head. He should have predicted this. He knew Betty wouldn't stop fighting for him, that she would rather end the world than let him go.

“What are you doing?” said Simon.

Betty opened the book and started flipping through again, adjusting her glasses.

“I can fix it,” she said. “The timeline.”

She lifted her head, a blank look on her face.

“I'm going back,” said Betty. “Before any of this junk happened. And I'm going to make sure it doesn't.”

Simon grabbed the sides of his head. This was what he'd been scared of. It was all of his worst fears rolled into one. A walking talking nightmare.

“Betty, that's bloobers,” he said. “You can't just–just change everything. What if you donk it up real bad? What if you unmake the entire universe?”

Betty stopped, her hand resting on a blank page. Her lips cracked into a humorless smile. Really? Did Simon think she was an amateur? Did he think she'd somehow never thought of that, that this simple and obvious truth had escaped her? Wow. Simon had completely lost faith in her. He was looking at her like she was some kind of villain, like she wasn't doing all of this for him.

“Then I'll go back and do it again,” said Betty.

She clenched her fist and stared at the blank page.

“Worst case scenario?” she said. “The timeline restarts and we're not in it. We get thrown out into the void and the entire world starts over again from the very beginning, except we're never in it. But isn't that worth the risk?”

Of course she was being casual. Betty knew there were crappier outcomes. But she was willing to take the risks. For Simon.

Simon reached for Betty's hand, but she yanked it away from him like his skin was poison. He suddenly understood why she didn't want to touch him, why she had squeezed herself into the farthest corner away from him. Betty thought Simon was a mistake. She didn't give a crap about anyone or anything in what she now considered to be a “failed timeline”. In a few minutes, Betty was going to use Golb to rip the universe wide open and hop into a brand new reality, a reality where–she hoped–Simon would never find the crown and they would be happy together.

“I can't let you do this,” said Simon.

Betty shrugged. And how was he going to stop her? They were both inside Golb now, likely trapped unless Golb decided to expel them. Like it or not, there wasn't a single–ethical–thing Simon could do about any of this.

“It's not just the crown,” said Betty. “It's, like, all the things. Jake will never get possessed. Everyone will be okay. Everything will be awesome.”

Simon let out a sad sigh. He'd lost her. He'd known this from the very beginning, but he'd been lying to himself.

“I won't be awesome, Betty,” said Simon. “I definitely won't be awesome.”

Betty flipped open the book, dropping her gaze again.

“Tough beans,” she said. “I'm doing this for you.

Simon bit his lip. No, she wasn't doing this for him. Maybe in the beginning, before she came up with her bizarre plan. But now? She was doing it for herself, or at least a version of herself that didn't exist anymore. A version of Simon and Betty that had disappeared decades ago.

"I get one wish,” said Betty. “Just one. And with the book, I think I can do it. I can save everyone.”

Who is “everyone”? Simon wondered. Did she mean Simon and Betty? Was she talking about this brand new version of Simon? What about Bonnie and Marcy and everyone else? Jake? Finn? Did she care about them at all? Was there any empathy for all the people who were being effected by what Betty had done in this timeline?

Simon shut his eyes.

“Listen,” he said. “I think I can do a thing. A good thing that'll get rid of this Golb guy. But I need your help. I need you to work with me, my dear Betty.”

Betty twitched like Simon's words physically hurt, but otherwise no response. She was sick of hearing him talk.

Simon did think he had a pretty foolproof plan for dealing with Golb. And he did need Betty's help. But he doubted she was going to care. She'd already made up her mind.

Simon shrank into his corner. He wasn't giving up. But he was also starting to doubt he was ever getting out of there. He could spend an eternity trying to convince Betty that she was wrong and it would be a waste of his final moments.

Bonnie was pacing. Maybe not the best time to pace–she was basically in the middle of a battlefield–but she needed to move and think.

“I have a plan,” she said.

No, that was kind of inaccurate. She had an idea that could maybe be a plan if she was willing to bet on the best possible outcome. Unfortunately, even the best possible outcome looked pretty frigging bleak. In Bonnie's defense, this was miles out of her wheelhouse.

Marcy swatted away another glob of flesh and limbs. She was getting better at fighting those guys. And by “fighting”, she meant “pummeling”. Those things just kept charging. Mindless and staggering and pretty easy to defeat, but it was still so annoying. Fortunately, vampires couldn't get tired. Marcy would have passed out thirty minutes ago.

“Awesome,” said Marcy. “Can we do it, like, now?”

She didn't care what it was. At this point, she could get behind just setting the orchard on fire. Two birds, one stone.

Bonnie shook her head. She was looking at the facts: they were exhausted, Simon was trying–and probably failing–to get through to Betty, and Golb was looming over them. What options did they have? Only three, and two of those involved running away and waiting for someone else to deal with their problems. If Bonnie had done that with the Lich, they would all be super dead by now.

“It's risky,” said Betty. “Like really bonzo-beans.”

Marcy let out a wild laugh, dodging the arm of another flesh beast.

“Bonnie, I honestly don't give a donk anymore,” said Marcy. “We do it or our buns get toasted.”

Bonnie shrank against a tree.

“It's simple,” she said. “One of us needs to get inside Golb and make a wish.”

She drew shapes with her fingers, wishing she had a chalkboard or something. Bonnie didn't even have a stick and some soft mud. This day was just the worst.

“If I'm right, we should be able to, well, absorb it,” said Bonnie.

Marcy paused. Okay, not what she thought Bonnie was going for.

“Uh, absorb Golb?” she said.

Bonnie looked away. She didn't want to say this part, because she knew exactly how this was going to go down. She felt like she'd known Marcy for a thousand years. Or at least Bonnie knew Marcy's type. This next part was going to prove that.

“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “If one of us absorbs Golb's essence, we can–we can merge our consciousness and just–just leave. We'll only have a short window of opportunity, before our mind gets absorbed.”

Marcy picked up one of the flesh things and tossed it against a tree. She watched it hit the tree and slide to the ground, completely knocked out by the impact.

“And what would happen to us?” said Marcy quietly.

Bonnie chewed her bottom lip. Crap. Why did she say that? She didn't even know if it would work, if it was even possible. But deep down, Bonnie kind of knew that it would. She'd read enough and seen enough to have faith.

“You'd be–you'd be gone,” said Bonnie. “Golb would absorb your mind and you'd just be–you'd be a part of it. You wouldn't remember anything.”

She said “you” because she knew what was coming next. She knew exactly what Marcy was going to say. And she knew exactly what she was going to say. Bonnie was going to beg, she was going to say a bunch of things and make tons of promises. She was going to cry harder and longer than she ever had in her entire life. She was going to fall to her knees and put her face in the grass and sob her eyes out. And all because Bonnie just couldn't keep her mouth shut, because she felt compelled to tell Marcy what one of them had to do.

Marcy turned to the giant creature in the sky, slowly retracting her claws.

“Simon,” said Marcy.

Bonnie blinked. She raised her hand and swabbed her eyes, catching some of the impending tears.

“What?” she said.

Marcy stepped away from Bonnie, her brow furrowed.

“Simon will do it,” she said. “I know he will. If it gets rid of Golb.”

Bonnie started to say something, but she stopped. Holy crap. Marcy was right. Simon had to have considered the possibility. That was the real reason he'd gone in there, right? Because if he couldn't convince Betty, he was ready to try something drastic. And even if he did convince Betty, it wasn't like Betty could un-summon Golb. They needed an actual game plan.

“And you're–you're okay with that?” said Bonnie. “For real?”

Marcy sighed. She knew exactly what Bonnie had been thinking. But Marcy wasn't desperate and shortsighted like Betty. The second Simon had made his plans known, Marcy had started to suspect his end goal. And with Bonnie's plan in front of her, Marcy finally put the pieces together.

“No, obviously,” said Marcy. “But what am I gonna do? That thing needs to get dead. For reals this time. And if Simon really wants to do that….”

She squeezed her arm and stared at the ground, chewing her bottom lip.

“I can't exactly stop him,” said Marcy.

She wished she could have said goodbye. But a part of her was glad she didn't. A tear-filled goodbye would have made the whole thing more tragic. Simon must have known that.

“So what do we do, like, now?” said Marcy.

She squinted. How were there more of those things? Marcy and Bonnie had been fighting them for, what? The last thirty minutes? And Marcy could hear more coming. How many of those disgusting flesh amalgamations were there? Was this the entire town? Was the entire town just those flesh things? Was everyone dead?

Bonnie's stomach flipped over. She was thinking the exact same thing: had everyone in town been turned into those gross creatures? Were Bonnie and Marcy the only ones who'd been spared?

Marcy got out her claws and fangs again, turning towards the sound of more pounding footsteps. Okay, this was definitely a shitty plan. They were too out in the open, too exposed. They needed to get back to the house.

But it wasn't more of those flesh creatures. It was way worse.

“What the blee-blop?” Bonnie said.

She raised both of her fists. Just when she thought this day-night-whatever couldn't get anymore banana-bread? Of course it could get more banana-bread.

It was a wolf. A wolf with deformed paws–they looked like hearts for some reason–and standing on its hind legs. The thing was all muscle, its arms and legs bulging grossly with its massive bulk. Bonnie knew wolves were huge–larger than people thought they were–but this thing was a giant. Standing on its hind legs like that, it was basically the size of a tree.

“What the junk is that thing?” said Bonnie.

Her head was going in circles. How many times had she asked that in the past two hours?

“Hug Wolf,” said Marcy.

She almost sighed in relief. Finally! Something she could actually fight. The flesh creatures were technically easy, but there were so many of them. Going one-on-one with a Hug Wolf for the first time in forever seemed way easier than taking on a battalion of those flesh things.

In her wolf-like form, Marcy was only an inch shorter than the Hug Wolf. Not that size mattered. She'd wrestled with those things before. The average Hug Wolf was a pushover compared to her.

She grinned, showing off her teeth. Marcy was slightly disappointed. She'd been betting on more of a challenge, something to really sink her teeth into. But one Hug Wolf? Definitely not the exciting match-up she was aiming for. Hey, at least she got a well-deserved break from batting those flesh creatures around. Yeah, it was kind of weird, just fighting a single Hug Wolf and…..

Marcy stopped, her arms dropping to her sides. She was about a foot from the Hug Wolf, preparing to barrel right into it and sink her teeth into its neck.

Oh. Crap. Marcy almost forgot the rules. She almost forgot how shitty this day had been and how it could only get worse.

Hug Wolves always traveled in packs. There was no such thing as a “lone Hug Wolf”. If there was one, there had to be at least a dozen nearby.

Marcy and Bonnie could hear shuffling in the trees, the sound of paws on grass. By Bonnie's estimate, there were at least five or six creatures heading in their direction. More Hug Wolves. They must have been attracted by whatever unknowable force had pulled those flesh creatures towards them. And if there were Hug Wolves, there had to be worse beasts out there. Things that could fly, things that could hop down from the trees.

Angel and his parents were all huddled together in a heap, scared to move. The noises were coming from all around them. It sounded like more than a few Hug Wolves.

“Butts,” said Marcy in frustration.

She sprinted towards Angel and his parents. Without pausing, Marcy picked up Angel–vampire strength–and plopped him onto her back.

“We gotta move,” she said.

She glanced at Golb. She hated the thought of leaving Simon. Sure, they weren't leaving leaving. But Marcy couldn't shake the feeling that she was abandoning him when he needed her. She should have followed him in there. Maybe they could have both talked sense into Betty. Or at least knocked her out and stopped whatever insanely dangerous plan she was trying to pull off.

Bonnie was helping Mr. Pigg and Willow to their feet, her gaze cutting between them and the Hug Wolf that was standing a few feet away. Bonnie couldn't tell if it was waiting for its buddies or if it was about to go into attack mode when they tried to bolt. Either way, she was terrified. And they were running out of time.

Marcy looked at Bonnie and the others. She listened to Angel sobbing in fear right next to her ear. No. Marcy had people she needed to protect, people who didn't have anything to do with this bullshit. Willow and her family were just normal Candace citizens. And now Angel was basically being used as a living prison for one of the most powerful demons in existence. Marcy was constantly fighting with herself over whether or not she was doing the right thing. Well, the right thing was making sure the people she cared about didn't get hurt. It was what Simon would have wanted.

The four of them–minus Angel, who was being carried–ran for their lives. The Hug Wolf tried to stop them, but Marcy–with Angel desperately clinging to her–grew to five times her normal size and snarled, batting the wolf away. The wolf flew several feet from the blow, uninjured but stunned. Stunned long enough for Marcy and everyone else to escape.

Marcy and Bonnie had no idea where the house was, but Willow knew the way. She led them back to the house. No unfortunate encounters on the way.

Marcy went in first. She burst through the door, Angel still clinging to her as she crossed the threshold. The house wasn't safe. Marcy would have been lying to herself and everyone else if she said it was. But it was better than being out in the open when the Hug Wolves swarmed. Walls, doors, and windows could be reinforced. Human bodies were another story.

Bonnie was right behind Marcy, her entire body shaking and the front of her shirt soaked with sweat.

“Home sweet–,” Bonnie started.

Angel screamed right next to Marcy's ear, cutting her off.

Marcy groaned and grabbed the side of her head. Holy crap. Marcy was pretty sure she was completely deaf now. First Bonnie pulled that stunt with the sound bomb, now Angel had shrieked almost directly into her sensitive ears. “Permanent hearing damage” was not an expected side effect of this incredibly bad day.

“Aw, geez,” she said.

She raised her head to see what Angel was screaming about. Her vision was shaking at the edges and she felt like her brain was rattling around in her skull.

The house wasn't empty. There were four people crammed into the cottage-sized space.

Willow reached into the pocket of her apron and dug out a fork. She pointed it at the strangers. She was probably the shortest person there–even shorter than her young son–but she looked like she was in a stabbing mood.

“What are you doing in my house?” she said.

Bonnie grabbed Willow's arm. Her heart was bouncing in her chest.

“They're with us,” said Bonnie.

Peter was kneeling beside the kitchen table. He would have rushed over to Bonnie and hugged her, but he had his hands full. Peter was busy sewing up a gash in Kara's arm, his fingers steady. He glanced up from his work for a second, nodding and flashing a grim smile at Bonnie.

Kara tried to grin, but it was halfhearted. She was pretty banged up. She had two black eyes and there were bandages around her left wrist and hand. Her face was covered in scratches, bruises, and pink band-aids. Kara's shirt was gone, so she was just sitting there in her sports bra and jeans. There were bruises all over her stomach and chest.

Rain was sitting on the floor in front of the fridge. She had a bowl and a large wooden spoon in her hand. Rain was mashing up stuff she grabbed from the fridge and cupboards. Whatever she was making, it smelled like cinnamon, ginger, and apple sauce. She was too absorbed in her work to even look at the five people who had just entered the house.

Jake was sitting on the floor. He smiled at Bonnie, a more genuine–but still very strained–smile. He had a blanket wrapped around him, he wasn't wearing any shoes, and there were bags under his eyes. Two of his fingernails were missing, Bonnie noticed. There had to be a story there.

Jake had only been possessed for less than two days, but he looked like he hadn't slept in a million years. Marcy knew she was the resident vampire, but somehow Jake looked even more dead than she did. She wouldn't have been surprised to learn that he'd crawled out of a crypt two hours ago.

“Hey, what's up?” said Jake weakly.

Bonnie charged across the room and gave Jake a bone-crushing hug. She didn't have time to wonder if he was physically okay enough for her to hug him like that. She just needed to touch him, needed to make sure he was real.Holy crap. Jake was alive. He was actually alive.

Jake didn't hug her back. He just sat there with his arms pinned to his sides until Bonnie let go of him.

“Are you okay?” said Bonnie.

Jake let out a small laugh.

“Nope,” he said. “Absolutely-hundred-percent not okay. But I'm here. Good times.”

Rain rushed over with the bowl of mashed up ingredients.

“You need to eat this,” she said. “It will keep your head clear.”

Jake took the bowl from Rain without saying anything. He stuck his hand in, scooping out some of the smooth mush. He shoved it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed without looking at Rain.

Bonnie bit her lip. Okay, Jake was clearly still at least somewhat out of it. But of course he was. Bonnie had–thankfully–never been possessed, but she suspected it was like being trapped in your own body. You couldn't really talk or scream or stop yourself. You just had to sit back and watch that thing–the Lich–force you to hurt your friends or even yourself. It must have been soul-crushing. Bonnie wondered how much therapy Jake would need. Probably more than her, if that was even possible.

She shook her head. No, that was totally nuts. There was no way she could tell a therapist about this. None of them could. It sounded like a fantasy novel or a low budget student film. They would diagnose her with “dangerous delusions” and shove a bunch of pills down her throat. Bonnie hated to admit it, but she would have done the exact same things if the roles were swapped. If she'd been a therapist and one of her patients had come to her with this bizarre story, she would have assumed they were a danger to themselves and possibly others. Bonnie would have prescribed a ton of meds and pushed them into a mental asylum. How could Bonnie expect anyone with a degree and decades of training to believe any of this?

“So what are we doing, gang?” said Jake. “We gonna mess it up?”

Marcy was shutting the curtains, as if that would somehow make a difference. At least they didn't have to stare at Golb while they strategized.

“Sure,” said Marcy. “As soon as we figure out how to mess up those bingo-bongos.”

Rain shook her head, leaning back with the bowl in her hands.

“We can't beat those things,” she said. “If we go back out there, we're toasted.”

Peter glanced at his shotgun. It was leaning against the counter, totally empty and useless. No more bullets. Even with the shotgun, they barely got out of there alive. If the house hadn't had a first aid kit and a sewing kit, Kara would definitely be dead. And now they were just….trapped.

“Can we get back to the car?” said Bonnie. “That's a plan, right?”

Peter did some quick calculations in his head.

“Um, not really?” he said. “I mean, we could give it a shot. If those things haven't wrecked it.”

He shuddered. The possibility hadn't even occurred to him until he said it. But what if those creatures had totally destroyed the car? That was really their only way out at this point.

“So what are we doing?” said Jake.

He hadn't asked about Finn yet. He wanted to know, but he was scared shitless of the answer. Finn was the toughest kid Jake knew. Not the smartest, but definitely a fighter.

Jake sighed. Finn shouldn't have to be a hero. Jake should have been there to protect his younger brother. But Jake had made all the wrong decisions for the right reasons. They could have left town, maybe moved in with Jermaine or something. Jake could have gotten a more steady job, something they could rely on. But of course Jake just couldn't do those things. He wasn't ready to be a parent, so he didn't even try.

Peter opened his mouth to answer–although he was equally clueless–but he was interrupted by loud banging. It didn't sound like knocking, even though it came from the direction of the door. It sounded like something was hurling its body against the door, trying to splinter the wood.

“Son of a blee-blop!” Marcy said.

She shoved her entire body against the door and growled.

Crap. How did those things find them so quickly?

Rain and Bonnie grabbed the kitchen table and rushed to board up the only window. Willow and Mr. Pigg ran to take care of the bedrooms and grab supplies from the bathroom.

Kara sagged in her chair. She felt useless. Well, at least she wasn't dead. Frieda would have absolutely freaked out if her girlfriend died to a bunch of supernatural monsters in an apple orchard. Not that Kara could tell her awesome scientist girlfriend the full story. Frieda was great, but there was no way she was going to believe any of this. How was Kara supposed to explain her injuries? Any lie she could come up with sounded only marginally less insane than the truth.

Decision made. After all this was over, Kara was going to live with Frieda on the island. Yeah, it was way too far away, there was no cell reception, and the Internet was bullshit. So she was probably going to lose contact with all of her buddies from the pizza place. But honestly? Kara didn't give a crap. She just wanted to be with her girlfriend, somewhere far away and relatively safe from all this supernatural stuff. Kara wanted science and reason and isolation and a dead-end security job.

Jake stood up, holding the blanket tight across his shoulders like a cape.

“Uh, anyone have a phone?” he said. “Like, a good one?”

It was the only actual request he'd made since waking up. Jake had been keeping his mouth shut for the past several minutes, trying to process what had happened to him. It didn't seem real. When Jake tried to look back on it, his memories were all jumbled. He thought he'd been standing over a hole at some point, staring into an abyss that glowed green. And he'd seen flashes of stuff that couldn't possibly be real: Finn with his pupils glowing and a crown on his head, Bonnie filling up a bathtub with chemicals, Angel turning into the Lich. And images of a desolate wasteland, a mushroom cloud on the horizon, skeletons and charred bodies, Marceline old and feeble, a skeleton wearing a crown and frozen in ice.

Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen was cracked, yet it still worked. Barely, but it worked. He tossed it to Jake without looking.

“Is someone gonna help me, you butts?” said Marcy.

Peter ran over to Marcy and threw himself against the front door, helping her keep it shut. It sounded–and felt–like there were several people trying to break in, a ton of bodies slamming themselves against the closed and locked door. Peter was genuinely scared that the door might just give in from the onslaught.

Jake's hands were shaking. Jake had never been the responsible parent or sibling. He was always doing the wrong thing and he could almost feel the judgment from Jermaine. No, not just Jermaine. Everyone in Jake's life thought he was a fuck-up, at least in regards to raising Finn. And he was. Jake freely admitted that. So what was the non-fuck-up thing to do here?

Jake chewed his bottom lip. If he texted Finn, Finn would definitely come running. He'd put himself in danger so he could see his older brother. And if Jake asked him not to come, to stay somewhere safe? Finn would ignore it and do his own thing, because that was just the kind of person Finn was. Nothing in Heaven or Earth could stop Finn.

He put down the phone. It killed him to do this, but did Jake actually have a choice? No, he didn't. If Finn died or got seriously hurt because of him, it would mean that he totally failed his parents. For once in his life, Jake didn't want to be selfish. He wanted to be the one who made the right decision.

The phone rang and Jake almost dropped it. He scrambled to grab it, jamming it against his chest and staring at the cracked screen. What?

“Uh, phone?” said Jake.

He offered it to Peter, but Peter and Marcy were kind of busy. Jake was the only person who–due to having been, well, possessed earlier–wasn't actually helping. Other than Kara.

He shrugged and answered it.

“Peter?” said the voice on the other hand. Holy geez! I thought you were–never mind, never mind. Check it: me and Holls–“

There was a shuffling noise, like someone was trying to grab the phone.

"Don't call me that, dude,” said another voice.

The first voice let out a nervous laugh.

“Whoops,” they said. “Uh, right. Anyways, me and Holls–Hollyhock–Holly–are kinda in some deep trubs, so…”

More shuffling, a cry of protest, and finally the sound of someone being shoved. The other voice started speaking again, but louder this time.

“Too slow, my dude,” said the other voice. “Look, everything's bonzo-beans over here and we need to know where you peeps are, okay? Is the sky all weird where you guys are?”

Jake stared at the phone. He'd recognized the first voice immediately. But he was afraid to say anything, half-wondering if this was like those flashes. Maybe Jake was hallucinating because he'd spent so long trapped in his own head. Auditory hallucinations were a thing, right?

“You there?” said the other voice. “For real, you need to tell us. We're freaking out. There's–”

There was a crash, an inhuman roar, and the sound of grunting. Jake's stomach flipped over.

“Yeah, that,” said the voice, presumably Hollyhock “That's happening. That is very much happening.”

Hollyhock cried out and there was the sound of something being thrown. This was followed by another roar and a pained whimper.

“Heck yes!” said Hollyhock. “Take that, ya butt!”

She spent the next minute pumping her fists–or at least that was what it sounded like–and cheering.

Jake swallowed. No. He couldn't do this. He needed to hang up. He needed to hang up and pretend he hadn't heard anything. Jake wanted to help? Well, this was how he could help. By making sure Finn stayed away.

More noises. Shuffling, yelling, Finn's voice, more whimpers and roars, smashing glass. Hollyhock grunting, what sounded like an arrow being fired, furniture falling or being thrown. It sounded like total chaos. And Jake was frozen, listening to the anarchy unfold.

Hollyhock finally returned, breathless.

“So where are you dudes?” said Hollyhock.

Jake clutched the blanket. This wasn't a decision he wanted to make. It wasn't a decision he could make. Jake told himself that he could do this without being selfish. And maybe he could have, a few minutes ago.

Maybe if this call had never happened, he could be the most unselfish person in the world. Anything was possible.

Hollyhock slammed the phone back into its cradle. She didn't even think that ancient thing was going to work. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades. Who even used a landline anymore? But for once, Hollyhock was endlessly grateful for Simon being a total weirdo.

She loaded another arrow into her bow and fired. The shot hit one of the flesh creatures right in the eye–or one of its many eyes–and it shrieked in pain. Its hands and feet flailing, it fell backwards through the window.

Hollyhock grimaced. Dammit. The salt didn't do anything. That made sense. Those things weren't ghosts or demons or anything like that. They were living beings, or at least they had been. Hollyhock wasn't sure what those things were now, but it wasn't really living. More like walking nightmares.

Finn raised the baseball bat above his head and slammed it down. Over and over again. Thank god there wasn't any blood. It was like hitting a weirdly rigid stuffed animal or a tube of slightly hardened dough. But the bat did the trick. The creature retreated through the crack in the door it was trying to crawl through and Finn slammed the door shut.

He put all the locks back in place, his hands shaking. Definitely not the most elegant or badass way to deal with those creatures. But they'd basically been ambushed. Hug Wolves? Sure. Weird deer-creatures? Creepy, but okay. Disgusting mounds of flesh, limbs, and eyes? Brand new ballpark.

Simon's house was massive, almost a labyrinth. There were way too many doors and windows, secret entrances that Finn couldn't even find. Those creatures had a million different ways to break in. Finn and Hollyhock just had to pray that didn't happen, but Finn and Hollyhock weren't betting on it.

“What did Peter say?” said Finn. “Is he coming to save our buns?”

He rushed to board up the broken window.

Hollyhock picked up an expensive vase. She hefted it in her hands, feeling out the weight. Her arrow supply was dangerously low. It was already dangerously low, but now Hollyhock was one hundred percent sure that she was boned. Fortunately, Hollyhock was great at throwing things.

“Your brother's alive,” said Hollyhock.

Another creature–possibly the same one Hollyhock had shot, but she legitimately couldn't tell–was trying to squeeze through the window. Hollyhock hurled the vase at it. The vase hit the creature and it pitched backwards.

Finn paused, the makeshift boards spilling out of his arms.

“Wait, really?” he said.

It wasn't like he thought Jake was dead. “Possessed” and “dead” were totally different, right? But Finn had been expecting bad news. He felt like finding that audio cassette was fate or something, a sign that something bad and irreversible was going to happen and he needed to carry on the family legacy.

Hollyhock nodded, picking up another vase.

“Yep,” said Hollyhock. “He had Peter's phone, I guess? He said we, um, absolutely should not come to the house in the orchard. Like, we should absolutely not do that.”

Finn sighed. Yeah, that sounded like Jake.

“So we're gonna do that, right?” said Hollyhock. “We're totes going, right?”

She sounded slightly desperate. On the one hand, she'd promised to keep Finn safe. And that meant staying by Finn's side. But if Finn refused to leave the house? Hollyhock was totally fine with just leaving him there. Well, mostly fine. A part of her would have felt super guilty. But staying in that house was a pretty dumb idea at this point. Yeah, they were safer in the house than out there with those things. But for how long? Finn and Hollyhock couldn't board up everything.

Finn dropped the boards and picked up the baseball bat. If this really was the end of the world, there was no way he was spending it trapped in Simon's house. He needed to be with his brother. He needed to know the truth about his family, if Jake could tell him that.

“Totes,” he said.

Finn sprinted into the kitchen and dumped out his backpack. They didn't have a lot of time. Those creatures were pounding at the doors and windows, ready to swarm. There was only one thing that Finn needed to grab before they headed out.

He went into Simon's treasure room and took the crown. Finn wasn't sure what he expected to do with it. Probably nothing. There was no way he was putting that thing on his head. But Finn felt kind of weird just leaving it there. And if the crown could give them some kind of magical advantage, he wasn't going to miss his opportunity. What was that thing Bonnie always said? About how he needed to be smarter? Well, Finn had finally done something that would have made Bonnie proud: he stopped for a minute, considered his options, and planned for the future.

Hollyhock clapped Finn on the back.

“We kind of have to, you know, get the heck out,” said Hollyhock. “If you're ready, dude.”

Finn hoisted the backpack onto his shoulders and grunted. The crown didn't weigh a lot, but there was other stuff in there. Finn hoped that all the sharp objects–mostly kitchen knives–and the pudding cups wouldn't damage the crown. But Finn had his priorities.

“Yeah, I'm ready,” said Finn.

Weird. This was hands-down the most terrifying situation of Finn's life, but it had also turned into a wonderful learning experience. He understood why it was never going to work out with Bonnie and he was finally getting over his pointless little crush on her. And he was starting to consider what he wanted to do with his life.

Who knew the apocalypse could be so enlightening?

Chapter Text

Bonnie collapsed against the wall, her chest heaving.

Good news: the front door was officially barricaded. Her and Marcy–mostly Marcy, the supernaturally strong vampire–had shoved the fridge in front of the door, totally blocking it. Another problem solved. Two hundred more to go. Bad news: they were completely trapped in the cottage. Completely trapped. Peter peeked through the mostly-barricaded window and confirmed it: yep, totally trapped.

“Son of a blee-blop!” said Marcy.

She smacked the fridge with her palm. Just in case anyone missed it, she wanted to reiterate how absolutely crap this situation was. Whatever happened to being safe?

Marcy grabbed both sides of her head. Safe. What a wild concept. She was a freaking vampire, for stars' sake. What was she so scared of?

She hugged herself. No, she wasn't scared of dying. That was kind of impossible, unless she got a stake through the heart. But what about her friends? What about Peter and Angel and Kara and Rain and everyone else? What about Bonnie? Stupid fragile humans. They were all ready to fight, ready to survive or die. But they barely had any weapons, most of them were injured, and there was no way Marcy could protect everyone with her awesome vampire strength.

Bonnie walked over to Marcy and touched her shoulder. She didn't say what they were both thinking: they were all boned. Completely and definitely boned.

Kara winced, looping an arm around her waist. Crap. Did she have a broken rib? She felt like she'd broken something,but she couldn't be sure. At least the salve Rain was rubbing on her arms and legs was helping with the pain.

“We could go out the back?” said Kara.

According to Angel and his parents, the back of the house was clear. No creatures out there. Not yet. It was their only escape route.

Marcy leaned against Bonnie's chest, blowing out air through her nose. Escaping seemed like the opposite of a good plan. Even if they made it out, what exactly were they supposed to do? Where could they go? Marcy's house in the middle of nowhere? Marcy's house was probably safer than the cottage–hidden and secured–but it was also miles away. They were never going to make it.

“Aw geez,” said Jake. “Our buns are toasted, huh?”

Peter handed Jake a rolling pin.

“Not necessarily,” he said.

He passed a kitchen knife to Bonnie and took one for himself. The waiting was the worst part. The house wasn't exactly a fortress. Eventually, those creatures would smash a window or something and the swarming would start. But until that happened, Peter was basically just handing out weapons and silently praying for a quick painless end.

“What about Finn and Hollyhock?” said Bonnie.

She immediately regretted saying that. Bonnie couldn't believe she was putting their lives in the hands of two teenagers.

Marcy laughed, even though she'd been thinking the same thing. It was incredibly messed up. A bunch of adults praying for help from a couple of kids. She was pretty sure Finn didn't even have a driver's license.

“Great idea, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “Hope they show up with a van and a flamethrower.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

“Have a better idea, genius?” said Bonnie.

Marcy opened her mouth to say something incredibly rude. She didn't want to pick a fight–not with Bonnie–but she was stressed out and she desperately needed to vent. Marcy realized this was all her fault. Sure, it was mostly the Lich and Betty. But Marcy felt like she'd willed it subconsciously. Bonnie had been completely detached from all of this, cheerfully oblivious to the horrors lurking in the dark corners of her reality.

Bonnie frowned.

“Marcy?” she said.

Marcy didn't answer. She was sniffling into the front of Bonnie's shirt, her face squished into the soft fabric. All of the angry words had evaporated in her throat like steam. Because she didn't mean any of them.

“This is all my fault,” said Marcy.

Bonnie stroked Marcy's hair, shrugging.

“Well, yeah, some of it,” said Bonnie. “But this isn't all you, Marceline. It's the Lich. And that donking thing in the sky. And Betty. It's all just nutso-bonkers.”

Marcy lifted her head. She knew Bonnie was right. It was all just nutso-bonkers. They had zero control over this chaos. Blaming herself felt better than admitting that.

Jake clapped his hands together.

“So what's–?” he started.

He was cut off by an unearthly shriek.

Jake pitched backwards off his chair as the ground rumbled. He tried to scramble to his feet, but another rumble sent him tumbling again. He lay there on his back like a turtle, listening to the pots and pans rattling on their hooks. Jake felt a tremor spike through the floorboards. The air buzzed and hissed with invisible electricity.

“What the blee-blop?” said Bonnie.

She grabbed the fridge to keep herself steady. Was it an earthquake? A donking earthquake? That made sense. The day was already been completely bonkers. Why not throw a natural disaster into the mix? It couldn't possibly get any worse.

Bonnie almost laughed. She shouldn't have said that. Bonnie had basically given the universe permission to start flinging shit at her. Rookie mistake.

Peter pried a board off the nearest window and peeked outside.

“They're leaving,” he said.

He should have sounded relieved, but he was terrified. The creatures that had been surrounding the cottage were retreating, disappearing in the opposite direction. But the creatures weren't just bailing. They were sprinting. Moving as fast as their legs or mismatched limbs could carry them.

A shudder skittered up Bonnie's spine. The amalgamations were one thing, but the wolves and everything else? Those things had left their natural habitats, their hunting patterns completely thrown off. They must have sensed some kind of wrongness in the air. Something that scared them away from their homes. Or maybe they had flocked to Golb's location like worshipers, recognizing Golb as something far beyond themselves. So what had made them run away?

“Oh my crease,” said Peter. “What the math is that?”

Bonnie's stomach dropped. She heard the raw fear in Peter's voice first, his actual words second. Whatever was out there, it was ten times spookier than Golb.

Marcy and Jake–mostly Marcy–were moving the fridge. It was probably a dumb idea, but they had to go outside and see what Peter was talking about. They had to know why all those creatures had fled. It was already the end of the world. How much worse could it get? What could possibly be out there?

Peter backed away from the window, the kitchen knife still in his hand. Not that he needed it anymore. When Peter saw all those creatures running way, he thought–for a split second, a lapse in logic–that things were finally ending. Survival or destruction, this chapter of Peter's life was wrapping up. But of course it was never that simple. The Lich, Golb, the end of the world. It could never be straightforward.

Jake yanked open the front door and ran outside. Rain was right behind him, a butter knife in one hand and a vial of salt in the other. Kara stumbled out after them, wincing at her injuries. Angel and his parents remained in Angel's bedroom, too scared to go outside.

Marcy, Bonnie, and Peter were the last ones outside. Peter dropped the knife as he exited last.

Bonnie stumbled backwards into Marcy, her mouth hanging open in shock. She almost didn't know what she was seeing. It was like walking into a room with green walls, except someone had repainted while she was gone and now three of the walls were a deep blood red. The fourth wall remained unchanged, a reminder of what existed in Bonnie's memories. But it was difficult to focus on the green wall. Nothing else existed in Bonnie's head, other than her perfectly-crafted metaphor.

Marcy grabbed Bonnie's shoulders, both to steady herself and hold Bonnie up.

“Breathe, Bonnibel,” she said.

That was easy for her to say. If Marcy's lungs had worked, they probably would have stopped at that exact moment. She couldn't blame Bonnie for feeling lightheaded. Marcy's mind was spinning itself into a frenzy as she tried to understand what she was seeing. It couldn't be real, it had to be a hallucination or a mirage.

Kara barked out a laugh, her sanity slipping for a minute. This had to be a joke. The universe was pranking them.

Bonnie swallowed. No, this made perfect sense. Golb was the most powerful being in the universe, or at least one of the most powerful beings. It was like a battery with infinite energy, a phone that never lost its charge. Through Golb, almost all things were possible. It was what ancient humans would have easily mistaken for a god. By strict definition, it was a god. A god with a devoted following.

It was all Betty's plan. Betty hadn't been lying. She was trying to change everything, to fix everything. But there was only one perfect band-aid solution to their dozens of problems.

The air shimmered and sparked. Bonnie felt like she'd walked into a microwave.

A rip had opened up. It was like someone had torn the fabric of reality wide open. And through that rip, Bonnie could see a completely different sky. She could see trees, grass, a barn. She could see birds. And Bonnie could see someone–a person she only slightly recognized–sitting in a rocking chair, a flute pressed against his lips.

Jake stepped forward. The blanket slipped off his shoulders and tumbled to the ground.

“Finn?” said Jake.

But the other Finn–the one they could see through the rip–didn't answer. He didn't seem to notice the weirdness happening a few inches away from him. He continued blowing away on his flute. There was a man sitting cross-legged at his feet, his back turned.

Rain took a step forward, holding the vial of salt to her chest. The butter knife slipped out of her hand.

“Jake?” she said.

But she wasn't talking to herJake. She was looking through the rip, staring at the Jake sitting cross-legged at Other Finn's feet.

Bonnie closed her eyes. Of course. Of course Betty needed Golb. Of course she needed the Enchiridion. Golb was the only creature strong enough to punch a hole through their reality. And the Enchiridion was the only book in existence that told Betty how to do it.

Chapter Text

Simon pressed both hands against the walls, his brow furrowed. Was it just his imagination or was the room shrinking? He was kneeling with his head down, barely able to stand up.

His stomach flipped over. Of course. Golb was swallowing them. It was devouring their essence like a midnight snack. Simon felt super weird using words like that to describe himself, words like “essence”. After all, he was a scientist. Simon wasn't supposed to believe in that kind of stuff. But there was no other way to describe it. Golb was digesting his being. In a few minutes–or however time worked inside that thing–Simon was going to disappear.

He swallowed. Okay, decision time. Simon had been procrastinating for way too long. Because he didn't want to do this. Not before he reasoned with Betty or before he said goodbye to everyone. But Simon definitely wasn't getting through to her any time soon. And saying goodbye? Yeah, not gonna happen. Not unless Simon could scream loud enough for everyone outside to hear him.

Betty was shaking, her eyes filled with hot salty tears. She didn't seem to notice the walls were closing in.

“It's happening,” she said. “Oh Golb, it's happening.”

Simon searched his mind. Did he have any regrets? No, not really. Simon had been a victim of unfortunate circumstances. The crown, everything that happened with Betty, etc. Simon couldn't have predicted any of this because he'd been naive. If he could have done it over again? Simon probably would have made the exact same choices.

Simon cracked a sad smile.

“See you around,” he said.

Betty finally looked directly at him, her vision blurred with tears. For a second, she saw her Simon. Young, bright-eyed, fresh out of university. Simon was laughing, a half-empty takeout container in his lap. He was telling her about his thesis, about the funding he'd received for his massive research project. He was going to be gone for a while, he said. Maybe months. Simon had caught wind of something amazing, something beautiful and rare and mystical at some remote mountain range. The locals said it was magic. Of course Simon didn't believe any of that stuff. Magic wasn't real. But he did want to find that item and bring it back, maybe show it to Betty so they could laugh about it.

Betty was a young university student, smiling and laughing with Simon. Yeah, it was totes bonzo, she was saying. It was bonkers, what people believed. Magic. Ghosts. Demons. Wizards. Gods and monsters. Betty was going to miss Simon. She was going to miss laughing with him. But it was for the greater good, for science. All of their work was for the greater good, even if neither of them really knew which “greater good” they were talking about yet.

“Sooner than you think,” said Betty.

Simon shut his eyes. He could feel himself–his essence–dissolving. His timeline–every timeline–was folding in on itself. Before Simon completely lost himself, he sent his intention out into the universe. He twisted his innermost desire into the unmaking of himself. This had to work. It had to.

Wishes were annoying. Simon couldn't just wish that none of this ever happened, that Golb would go away and never come back. Magic–this deep ancient unknowable magic–didn't work that way. And Simon wasn't a wizard. The crown had given him some power, a gentle kind of magic that lingered even when his connection to the crown was broken. Simon reached inside of his own self, digging around until he found that spark of power from the crown. And he held it in both hands, squeezing it tight as he plugged himself into Golb's mind. Simon knew this was going to destroy him. The connection between him and Golb–weak, but effective–would completely dissolve his being.

So Simon wished for the only thing he wanted, the only thing that made sense for him to want. He only had one shot. One chance to make this work.

I want my friends to be safe, Simon whispered inside his head.

Bonnie stared at the rift, her mouth dry. No way. No freaking way.

First a demon, then an inter-dimensional hell beast, and now a rip in spacetime? Seriously, what the heck? This was like a bad sci-fi novel. And Bonnie thought all sci-fi novels were bad.

Kara grabbed Bonnie's arm, squeezing so hard she almost popped it out of the socket.

“What is that?” Kara said.

Bonnie winced at Kara's not-so-gentle giant grip. Of course Kara was latching onto Bonnie like a life preserver. Bonnie was the scientist.

Marcy gritted her teeth, flexing her claws.

“That is our incentive to leave,” she said.

Bonnie ignored both of them. Kara's grip loosened and Bonnie just stepped away from her, stepped towards the rift.

Bonnie had seen a thousand impossible things in one day. But this? This felt more real. Alternate timelines. Science. Explainable. Bonnie knew a dozen scientists who were working on proof of the multiverse theory. Well, now Bonnie had definitive proof.

“Whoa,” said Bonnie. “How's this donking real?”

A voice came from behind them, sad and soft and serious.

“The Enchiridion.”

Betty was standing behind the group, the book in her hands. She was shaking, but her face was totally blank.

Marcy took a step towards Betty.

“I'm sorry,” said Marcy.

Betty ignored her. She walked closer to the rift, her mouth set in a line.

“We can do this,” said Betty. “We can do this, you guys.”

Peter quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“Um, we?” he said.

Betty looked at Peter, her brow furrowed.

“Don't you wanna, you know, go back?” said Betty.

Peter shook his head. Was he the only person in this group using common sense? He felt like everyone had gone banana-bread. But that made sense, right? They all had their own crap going on. Peter was untethered.

“That's not back,” he said. “It's just somewhere. Different.”

Betty sighed, holding the book to her chest. How did she explain this to them? Could she? Nope, probably not. Most of them were too naive to get it. No one there had suffered a loss like hers. Lucky them.

“Somewhere better,” she said.

She looked at everyone.

“You coming, dorks?” she said.

Bonnie recoiled like Betty had smacked her. Actually, forget the multiverse theory. Bonnie had proven at least two dozen scientific theories in the span of a single day. And the worst part? She couldn't share them with anyone. They'd think she was nuts.

“What the crease?” she said. “No!”

Betty gestured all around her.

“Wake up, idiots,” Betty said. “This world is totes bloopy. Your buns are baked if you stay here.”

Bonnie started to argue, but she shut her mouth. Dammit. Betty was totally right. This world was totes bloopy. Demons, ghosts, monsters of all shapes and sizes. Sure, they won this time. But at what cost? And why did they even have to do this? Who or what decided to pull Bonnie away from her normal life?

No one decided, Bonnie realized. It was just a fluke, an accident. It could have happened to anyone working at a pizza place. Why didn't that make Bonnie feel better?

Betty approached the rift. She didn't need to hesitate. She already made her decision a long time ago.

“It's one-way,” said Betty. “No take-backs.”

Bonnie shut her eyes.

Bonnie was in her modest apartment building, tapping away on her cheap laptop. A birthday present from Peter.

Her essay was almost finished. And then she had to meet Dean at that coffee place downtown. Bonnie couldn't believe they were still together. They'd known each other since they were kids. Bonnie's uncle introduced them.

Bonnie shut the laptop. Done! Now she just had to text Dean. He was going to be pissed she was late. Again. He had to be used to it by now, right?

Bonnie grabbed her bag. Yum. She could already smell the coffee and the muffins. Another awesome day.

She texted Finn on her way out. She wanted to know if him and Jake were still on for video-chatting later. They needed to finish up that Card Wars session. Bonnie was not losing her winning streak. Jake's tantrums were a decent motivator.

Standing on the sidewalk, Bonnie breathed in the crisp air. Normally days like this stressed her out. The weather was just too neutral. But for the first time in a while, Bonnie was actually super happy about being outside.

It was going to start snowing soon. Bonnie couldn't wait for the cold weather. She was going to snuggle up next to the fire with her hot cocoa and a good book. Cold weather was the perfect excuse to stay indoors.

She grinned, clutching the strap of her bag and staring up at the sky. Another essay done, another perfect day. What more could she have asked for?

Bonnie jumped as her phone went off. She rolled her eyes. Holy crap. Why was she so paranoid out of nowhere? It was literally the most perfect day she could have asked for. No reason to be super jumpy.

She pulled out her phone and checked who was calling her. It was Finn. Of course. Who else would have been calling her? Bonnie didn't have a lot of friends, much less people she talked with on the daily. Not that Bonnie was complaining. She liked keeping her friendship group simple. Less drama.

Finn wanted to video chat for some reason. Bonnie shrugged, tapping the little window that popped up on the screen. She had spent the last few months modding her phone, making it do things that were beyond the comprehension of feeble minds. Mostly Bonnie had totally reconfigured the video chat function, increasing its efficiency by two hundred percent.

Finn's face automatically popped up on her phone. Bonnie grinned at him.

“Hey, Finn, wha–,” she started.

But Finn interrupted her, his voice rising in panic. He looked like total crap. Like Bonnie after a particularly tough exam, but one hundred times worse. His eyes were puffy from a long sobbing session and there was snot dripping out of his nose. There were huge bags under Finn's puffy eyes and his lips looked completely dry, like he hadn't tasted a drop of water in days. Finn had always been kind of a skinny little kid–although stronger than he looked–but now he was practically a skeleton in a hoodie and jeans.

“Oh crease!” said Finn. “This is real bad, dude.”

Her breath vibrating in her throat, Bonnie held the phone closer to her face.

“Finn, what the badonks?” said Bonnie. “What's happening?”

Finn sniffled, his hand shaking. The front of his hoodie was splattered with some kind of thick greenish substance. Bonnie mistook it for vomit, but the texture and color suggested otherwise. It didn't look like something that should come out of a human body.

“It's Jake,” said Finn. “He's–he's–”

He was cut off by a massive explosion.

Bonnie screamed as the ground pitched underneath her and she almost tumbled over. Bonnie stumbled back and grabbed at the doorway, slumping against it as she struggled to stay on her feet. In the distance, Bonnie could hear car alarms shrieking and people shouting. Windows were opening, people were peeking out of buildings, and pretty much everyone was yelling at the top of their lungs. A few cars stopped right there in the street in front of Bonnie's apartment building.

She twisted her head around, staring up into the afternoon sky. Bonnie instantly saw the massive column of greenish-gray smoke rising from the direction of her old hometown. But it wasn't just smoke. It looked like a mushroom cloud, similar to the ones Bonnie had seen in old history books. Drawings and diagrams were basically nothing compared to real life.

“What the bee-bop is that?” said Bonnie.

Finn was crouched now, his phone still in his hand. He was holding it closer to his face, shaking.

“Jake,” said Finn.

Bonnie wanted to probe Finn for answers, anyone for answers. But before she could open her mouth, the video flickered out. The service must have disconnected or something.

Mumbling arcane swear words, Bonnie shoved the useless phone back into her pocket. She slammed a hand over her mouth. Oh cripes. That smoke was spreading. The entire city was about to be engulfed in a greenish-gray cloud. And Bonnie was totally helpless.

She turned around and ran back into the building. She doubted closing the curtains and doors was going to help, but she couldn't just stand there all day. Bonnie needed to contact Peter, maybe get a message out to Kara or Moe if she could. They had to know what was happening by now, right? Not that Bonnie expected either of them to know why or how it was happening.

Bonnie whipped out her phone as she ran. No cell service. Whatever. Bonnie could wrangle something up with all the spare parts she had in her apartment. And if not? Well, Bonnie had a gas mask and about seven emergency kits. She was ready for basically anything.

She threw open the door to her apartment and sprinted inside. Okay, so driving was out of the question. If Bonnie wanted to go anywhere, it had to be on foot. Which meant she needed to take everything that wasn't nailed down and get the hell out. Thank the stars Bonnie had her rucksack and tons of canned food. Bonnie wasn't even a hardcore doomsday prepper or anything like that. She just liked to be prepared.

Bonnie shoved her laptop into its case, her hands quivering. Well, she didn't need to worry about that essay anymore.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and Bonnie almost screamed. She pulled it out, her heart throbbing like it was going to erupt out of her chest. Who could have been calling or texting her? There was no wi-fi or cell service. Things had changed so abruptly in less than ten minutes.

It was another video chat request from Finn. How was that even possible?

Bonnie tapped the icon. Actually, if she was being honest, she didn't care how impossible it was. She just wanted to know Finn was okay. She wanted to ask a dozen questions about Jake and that cloud and why this was happening.

The video feed popped up, but it immediately glitched out and froze.

Bonnie stared at the screen. She could barely see anything in the glitched screen, but she could have sworn there was something. A single frame of video. A massive hulking figure with tiny pinpricks of green in its dark round eyes and a familiar mop of yellow hair.

And then Bonnie heard something in her head. Something shoving its way past the panicked voice pounding in her skull and the encroaching headache.

“This is one of many worlds, child,” it said. “The gate is open. Are you running?”

Bonnie dropped her phone. The second she let go, the screen went dark. The still frame disappeared and Bonnie wasn't sure it had ever been there.

Chapter Text

Golb was gone. It had just vanished, taking Simon with it. Betty wasn't sure how Simon did that. But she had some theories.

She smiled bitterly. Weird. She thought Simon might stay, might come with her. It was dumb and she knew it, but…it felt good to imagine he understood her. But they were on different wavelengths. This Simon, not her Simon.

Betty sat up, the Enchiridion still in her hands. She was lying on the grass, a few feet from where Golb had been. Or maybe the exact spot? Didn't really matter. That thing was gone. Simon was gone. So Betty didn't need to care anymore.

She balled up some grass in her fist. But she did care. Every Simon mattered, even the ones that didn't give a crap about her. That was why Betty was doing this. He thought she was being selfish, shortsighted. Her Simon would have never said that. Right? Right?

Well, whatever. It was too late. Betty felt the rift opening, splitting the world in two. She couldn't exactly undo that. Way too much work just getting the damn thing open. Without a follow-through, this was basically one long pointless art project.

She scrambled to her feet, holding the book tight. She looked around. So this was…goodbye? No, that sounded wrong. More like…“smell ya later”? Yeah, that sounded way more appropriate. This might not work. The rift might spit Betty out like a bitter pill, cough her up into the endless void between realities. Betty was willing to take that risk. An endless drift through the stars sounded more beautiful and scenic than the life she was living now.

She joined the group standing near the rift.

Betty approached the rift. She didn't need to hesitate. She already made her decision a long time ago.

“It's one-way,” said Betty. “No take-backs.”

Bonnie shut her eyes.

And then she opened her eyes, her eyebrows climbing her forehead. Wait a second.

“Wait, that's–that's banana-bread,” said Bonnie.

Betty turned to her, surprised.

Bonnie raised both of her arms, gesturing dramatically at the rift. It was going to close at some point. There was no way this world could sustain two realities. Not at the same time. They only had a few minutes, maybe ten minutes tops.

“You want me to–to what?” said Bonnie. “Just leave? Why didn't you ding-dang do that in the first place, genius?”

Betty pressed the book harder against her chest, like she thought someone might try to snatch it. Everyone was looking at her now, judging her harshly. Betty hated their accusing stares.

“I couldn't,” said Betty. “There wasn't enough cosmic energy for that. Do you not get how this whole magic thing works? There's always a sacrifice.”

Bonnie stepped closer to Betty. She always thought a world of magic would be beautiful, full of wonders and bright colors. The harsh reality? Magic was filthy and corrupting, just like science. There was no greener grass. Just shades of sad gray.

“And you were gonna destroy our whole fracking world for this biz?” said Finn. “That's messed up, dude.”

Jake raised a hand weakly.

“Seconded,” he said. “Also, you're kinda getting all supervillainy. Just my opinion.”

Betty opened her mouth, then closed it. Wait. Why was she trying to defend herself? None of them understood. They were all so wrapped up in their petty troubles, their relationship drama, and…

Bonnie snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Lemme guess,” she said. “We wouldn't get it? We're too young to understand? Gimme a fracking break, lady.”

Marcy balled her hands into fists.

“You killed Simon, dude,” said Marcy. “Do you not see how skronked up that is?”

Betty focused on Marcy. She genuinely wished they could have spent more time together. Marceline and Betty together. Simon would have loved that. His two ladies getting along. They could have been one big happy family. In some alternate reality Betty was never going to experience, they were a happy family.

“He didn't die,” said Betty. “He just, like, went somewhere else. Golb absorbed him. They're one being now. Simon's gonna live forever.”

That was the one thing Betty couldn't just let go. She never would have killed Simon. Not in a million years. Outright murder wasn't anywhere on her agenda. There were a million ways Betty could have gotten what she wanted if she just took out anyone in her way. But Betty didn't want that. Despite what everyone thought of her, she did want to leave this reality intact.

Jake suddenly pitched forward, clutching his stomach. Finn rushed over to him and grabbed his shoulders.

“What's wrong, bro?” said Finn.

Jake squeezed his eyes shut. Oh Grod. He thought he was getting better. Post-Lich Jake was never going to be one hundred percent physically, but he was getting close to a nice fifty or sixty. Jake couldn't imagine what his lifespan was going to look like after this. A train-wreck probably.

Rain was instantly on Jake's other side, ready to do whatever she could.

“You feel it, right?” she said. “Something bad.”

Jake nodded, his eyes shut tight. He didn't even know what it was, this feeling squirming around in his belly. It was like when the Lich was piloting him, except more gross. He couldn't puzzle it out, even as it crushed his head into a smooth cube.

“Oh Glob,” said Jake. “It's–it's coming. For real this time. Aw geez. This sucks.”

Kara squinted at Betty, crossing her arms.

“What's coming?” said Kara.

Betty was about to answer honestly–she didn't know–but she heard something. They all heard something. But not from the rift. A voice was talking inside their heads.

“The gate is open,” said the voice. “Are you running?”

Hollyhock spun around in a circle, pointing her bow and arrow at every possible direction.

“What the butts?” said Hollyhock. “Not cool, dude.”

Finn rushed over to Hollyhock and grabbed her arm, forcing her to lower the bow. He was shaking so hard he almost toppled over.

“I think that was the Lich,” he said.

Hollyhock quirked her eyebrow. Wait, the Lich? Didn't Finn and his buddies waste that guy? Or was that Bonnie and Marcy? Whatever. Hollyhock was having trouble keeping up. Today had been, well, a day. Monsters everywhere.

“Wait, what?” said Marcy. “But we totes smoked that guy.”

Betty took a step back from the rift, her eyes opening wide. Oh. Oh crap. She should have seen this coming.

She'd been searching blindly, pawing around in the dark for a reality where Simon was okay. And when Betty found one, she grabbed onto it with both hands, gripping it so tight that it almost broke her head in half. Betty didn't think about what might have been on the other side, the things waiting for her to crack the world open like an egg. And Betty never considered what might happen on the other side when she tore reality wide open.

“I am eternal,” said the voice. “There is no world where I don't exist.”

Someone stepped out of the rift. They eased themselves out of the tear in reality, like they were just learning to walk. Lurching and quivering.

It was Jake. Another Jake. He was wearing a torn track jacket and a pair of shredded shorts that barely left anything to the imagination. He was barefoot, his feet swollen and bleeding. His back and arms were misshapen and bulbous, like his body was covered in balloons. His eyes burned with dark green fire and his face was split open, revealing patches of skull and bare gums.

Rain clapped a hand over her mouth, staring at Lich-Jake. No. That was impossible. He couldn't be…

Jake stared at his double, his mouth slightly open. Was that what he looked like when he was possessed? No wonder everyone was freaked out. Not very subtle.

Finn approached Lich-Jake, holding out his hand.

Hollyhock pointed her bow and arrow at Lich-Jake. Okay, she had no idea what was happening or why that thing looked like Jake. But she did know that big ugly monsters needed to get arrowed. Basic life rule.

“Stay away from him–it–whatever,” said Hollyhock.

Lich-Jake cracked open its mouth, a huge sharp-toothed smile dripping green. It tilted its head to the side like a curious kitty.

“Yes, Finn,” Lich-Jake said without moving its mouth. “This is the end. The end of all things. Aren't you happy, child?”

Finn's hand shook a little.

“You're–you're not–you can't be–Jake?” said Finn.

His eyes filled with tears. This was reality. An alternate plane of existence, just as real and important as any other. And Finn had–again–totally failed at saving his brother from the Lich. It was like some kind of weird inevitability programmed into the fiber of existence itself. Finn just wasn't good at this supernatural stuff. Maybe that was his curse across all universes, all realities, all galaxies, all possible timelines.

Lich-Jake held out his hand towards Finn.

“Let go, Finn,” it said. “You've seen the flesh of this world. This cosmic dance, until we rip open the skin and feast again.”

Jake finally spoke up, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Dude, no!” he said. “That's not–it's not me. Come on, bro. You know I'm right over here.”

Finn spoke so quietly that barely anyone could hear him. His eyes were unfocused, but he wasn't possessed. He was pretty much the opposite. Finn was seeing clearly for the first time in what felt like decades. He wasn't really Finn, was he? Or he was, except there was more. More people inside him, like one of those nesting dolls. In another reality, in another time, Finn was a young Korean woman with a missing arm. Finn was so sick of dancing.

He put his hand on Lich-Jake's arm, ignoring everyone screaming at him. What did they know? They thought Finn was a kid. Bonnie didn't love him the way he loved her and she never would, Hollyhock only cared about keeping his butt safe, and everyone else? Everyone else just wanted Finn out of the way. Except…

“Jake,” said Finn. “I'm–I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a butt.”

Hollyhock aimed again, her face scrunching up in concentration.

“Okay, bunk this,” said Hollyhock.

She tried to fire an arrow. She could see everyone around her gearing up to fight, snapping out of their collective trance as they realized Finn wasn't backing down. But Hollyhock's arms suddenly went completely limp, the bow dropping from her noodly hands. What the heck?

An extreme feeling of fear passed through Hollyhock's head, making her freeze like a deer in headlights. A primal part of her brain was screaming at her to get out get out get out get out get out in a way she'd never experienced before. It was loud enough to drown out every part of Hollyhock that wanted to save Finn's ass. Judging by how everyone else wasn't moving, they must have had the same thing going on.

Hollyhock gritted her teeth, trying to fight through the fear pounding in her veins. She just felt like if she got near Lich-Jake, something horrible was going to happen. Something horrible and permanent. Lich-Jake was somehow remote-controlling Hollyhock's brain into unblocking whatever caveman sense made her fear the dark and the creatures that brought it with them. Centuries of reckless evolution were nothing compared to a creature older than the concept of fear itself.

She reached for the bow at her feet, her fingers easing towards it at the slowest pace possible.

Finn didn't notice the green goop spreading across his arm at first. He probably should have felt it instantly, but he was staring directly into Lich-Jake's eyes. The second Finn noticed what was happening, he snapped out of whatever weird misanthropic trance he was in.

Finn screamed, trying to yank his arm away. But it was way too late. He could feel the thick liquid burning his skin and clinging to him like lava. The pain was so bad Finn almost almost passed out right there on the grass. But some kind of force was keeping him conscious, forcing him to experience what was happening to him.

Lich-Jake grinned at him.

Welcome home, it said inside Finn's head.

Finn's head flopped back, his eyes focused on the dark sky. So this was it. It sucked that Finn never had the chance to say goodbye to everyone. They deserved a nice dramatic send-off after all the crap he put them through. All that stuff Finn was thinking earlier? It was all just bulldonk. Bonnie loved him, probably loved him so much she didn't even know how to put it into words with her big science brain. And Hollyhock was maybe the best person Finn had ever met. Of course they cared about him. Everyone cared about him. Too bad Finn was never going to be able to apologize for being such a colossal fart.

Hollyhock dropped to her knees, scrabbling around for her bow. Come on come on come on come on. She knew she could do this. For Finn. And for Jake.

Crouching like that, her eyes on the grass and nowhere near Lich-Jake, Hollyhock felt some of Lich-Jake's influence ease away. Her head was clearing and she was getting control of that fear expanding in her chest. Hollyhock grabbed at that control with both hands, pulling herself as deep into that part of herself as she could. The blurry edges of her brain started to focus again and Hollyhock remembered why she was on her knees in the grass.

She detached her quiver. No time to load anything into her bow. Hollyhock knew she was pretty much a goner the second she looked up again, the second she focused on Lich-Jake for more than a second. This had to be a decent shot.

“Hey nerd!” said Hollyhock.

She got to her feet, straightened up, and flung the quiver full speed at Lich-Jake.

Well, of all the things Lich-Jake had expected to happen, a quiver slamming into its side was not one of them. It stumbled and cried out in its garbled corpse voice, its head snapping back painfully.

The spell temporarily broken, Bonnie grabbed the nearest item she could get her hand on: a huge cooking knife. Not waiting for Lich-Jake to recover and strike them down with fear again, Bonnie tossed the knife in Finn's direction. It tumbled to the ground near Finn's feet.

Fighting through the agony, Finn bent over and reached for the knife. He snagged it with the tips of his fingers and inched it towards him, the pain roaring in his head like a wave slamming the shore. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“I'm sorry,” Finn said.

He stabbed out wildly, his vision blurred by tears. Finn didn't stop jabbing the knife until he hit something solid. Through his tears, Finn saw that he'd somehow driven the knife through Lich-Jake's shoulder. He started sobbing even harder.

Lich-Jake pitched away from Finn, laughing harshly in a way that weirdly reminded Finn of his brother. It stumbled backwards, back towards the the rip in space and time that Betty had opened up. Back towards its own reality.

Finn felt a strange tugging on his arm, the pain intensifying as Lich-Jake pulled away. Finn clenched his teeth, the tears flowing even more rapidly as a horrible pain sliced through his mind like a butcher knife through a block of tofu. He could feel something tearing, something being ripped away.

“No!” said Betty.

She started running, sprinting full speed at the break in reality. She had the book in her hands and a look of desperation all over her face. No. It was too early. The rip couldn't be closing. Not yet. Not until Betty had stepped through into her new world. Her world where Simon was alive and well.

Bonnie reached out to grab Betty. Well, she reached out with both hands and kind of waved them around. Not exactly maximum effort. But what was the point? Betty was completely lost. Or at least close enough.

Lich-Jake disappeared into the rip just before it closed. A split second later, Betty was gone too. They both just vanished through the rip. Into a brand new world of chaos they'd both created together. Finn hoped they were happy.

Hey, maybe the Lich and Betty had more in common than they thought. They could have dated. A new power couple for the multiverse. Ruling over the wreckage of the world they helped destroy in their mindless quest for who-knows-what.

That was Finn's last thought before he passed out.

Chapter Text

Finn woke up in bed, his shoulders and head partly snuggled under the soft blankets. He sat up suddenly, balling up the blanket in both hands and yelping in panic. What the…?

He looked around the dark room, his brow furrowed. It was…a dream? No Lich, no Eldritch god, no possession? No alternate universes, no vampires? Jake and Kara were okay?

Finn smacked his forehead with his open palm and snorted out a laugh. Duh. Of course it was a dream. Finn was in his own bedroom with the lights off. He'd probably been talking in his sleep again. Jake was going to laugh his butt off about this.

Jake. Finn chewed his bottom lip, staring into the darkness of his bedroom. The last thing he remembered was shoving a knife into Lich-Jake's shoulder. Lich-Jake pitching away from him and into the rip, disappearing into its own universe. Finn wasn't a dream therapist, but that didn't sound particularly healthy. Good thing it was just a dream, right? Right. Just a dream.

He started to grab the blanket with his other arm. But Finn stopped, freezing in panic and fear. Wait.

Finn wiggled his other arm. Or at least tried to wiggle his other arm, the one not clutching the blanket like an anchor. For a split second, Finn thought he felt his fingers flexing. But his other arm dropped to his side and he realized nothing was happening.

His breath vibrating in his throat, Finn scrambled for the lamp. He clicked it on, practically hyperventilating.

Finn waggled his arm. Or more accurately, waggled the smooth stump that had once been his arm. It was all healed up and everything, almost like he'd never had a wrist or fingers or knuckles. But Finn was pretty sure that–up until the recent storm of bulldonk–he'd one hundred percent had two arms. Which meant……

He pressed a hand to his face, his shoulders shaking. It was real. It was real. Finn actually fought his brother. Well, Other Jake. And Finn stabbed him. He stabbed his own brother, drove that knife into him without a second or third thought. Like a murderer.

Finn looked around the lit up room. Definitely not his bedroom. Not even his house.

Finn threw the covers off and got out of bed, waving his short stump of a former functioning arm. More of the previous few days was coming back to him. They won. Finn and his ragtag group of idiots–and Bonnie–fought a literal god and won. Sure, it was mostly Simon and Finn did literally nothing. But Finn liked to think he contributed from the sidelines. And all it cost was….everything.

He walked out of the bedroom, squinting into the bright light of the kitchen. Oh. He was in Willow and Mr. Pigg's house. That made sense. Jake–his Jake–probably wasn't in a Going Home mood.

Bonnie was plopped down in a kitchen chair, half-asleep with several electrical components spread out all over the kitchen table. Finn didn't know how she convinced Willow and Mr. Pigg to let her rip the microwave to shreds. Finn was beyond impressed by Bonnie's apparently lethal bargaining skills.

Marcy was leaning forward across the back of Bonnie's chair, her arms looped around Bonnie's shoulders. Her head was sitting on top of Bonnie's, her tongue waggling back and forth as she made fart noises. Finn would have expected Bonnie to be annoyed, but she seemed strangely okay with the situation. Or maybe Bonnie was just too tired to fight back.

Finn smiled, tearing his eyes away from the happy couple.

Kara and Peter were sitting on the floor of the kitchen talking. Willow was taking a fresh apple pie out of the oven. Rain was standing next to the fridge.

Rain hurried over to Finn, a big smile on her face. She gave him a bone-crushing hug. Finn would have asked her to be more gentle with his bruise-covered body, but he didn't really care. He was just happy that Rain was alive.

“Jake's outside,” said Rain, answering Finn's unasked question.

Finn rubbed the back of his neck. It was kind of ridiculous. He'd spent hours trying to get back to his brother, to see him at least one more time. And Finn's reward for his efforts? A lost arm and a bunch of messed up memories. Finn wasn't even sure Jake wanted to see him. And Finn wasn't sure he wanted to see his brother.

But Finn walked outside, shutting the front door behind him.

Jake and Hollyhock were engaged in conversation, their butts planted on the grass. Finn could attest from personal experience that the grass was not comfy.

Hollyhock looked over Jake's shoulder. For the first time in a while, her face lit up at the sight of Finn. Alive and well. At least for today. Hollyhock had been rooting for the kid and she wasn't going to stop just because the Big Bad Danger had passed.

“Hey Finn,” said Hollyhock. “Glad you're not dead. That would have sucked.”

She clenched her fists and raised them in the air.

“Mission accomplished,” she said. “Guess I'm, like, free?”

But Hollyhock kept sitting there. Honestly, she should have slunk back off to the forest hours ago. She had zero obligations. Not anymore. Hollyhock had fulfilled her promise to Peter. Above and beyond, if she was allowed to rate her own work. So unless Peter had more stuff for her to do, why was she even hanging around?

She stood up and walked over to Finn. Hollyhock wrapped her arms around him, trapping him in another back-breaking hug. She squeezed extra hard, just to remind him that she could and would kick every ass. They did just defeat Lich-Jake with the power of teamwork.

“Come see me in the forest,” said Hollyhock. “We can, like, chill and stuff. Listen to forest music.”

She turned and stuck her fingers between her lips. Hollyhock let out a shrill whistle.

An antelope–a normal non-creepy one–came bounding out of the trees. It stood there patiently as Hollyhock climbed onto its back, its eyes flickering with near-human intelligence.

“Later, nerds,” said Hollyhock.

She stuck out her tongue in Finn's direction, patting her antelope's butt. The animal took off into the trees, Hollyhock clinging to its back like a majestic creature of the forest.

Finn stared, his cheeks burning hot and red. Did–did Hollyhock just ask him on a date? And she left before he could reply, like she knew he was going to say “yes”. To be fair, Finn was totally down for some forest chill with Hollyhock. Finn would have invited Bonnie and Marcy, but he kind of wanted to keep this a one-on-one thing.

Jake laughed. He'd ditched the blanket and changed into a track jacket that must have belonged to Mr. Pigg. He looked healthier. Having the Lich totally out of the picture probably helped.

“Dude, she's totes into you,” said Jake. “She wants to smooch those buns.”

Finn rubbed his cheek with his hand and rolled his eyes. Ugh. So apparently Jake was feeling better. Good enough to tease his younger brother.

“Shut up,” said Finn.

Not that he wasn't into some extra-marital smooching. But Jake didn't need to know that. Finn felt like he just speed-ran the beginning and middle of a relationship with some girl he barely knew. Finn wanted to skip to the part where they were lying under a blanket and staring up at the night sky.

Jake shrugged and grinned.

“Hey man, it's totes doozy-plumes,” said Jake. “We could all use a little smoochin' right about now.”

Finn rushed forward and threw himself into Jake's arms. They hugged for what felt like ten or twenty minutes, just standing there and holding each other. Finn had to remind himself that this Jake was real. This Jake was alive. He wasn't a murderer, he wasn't a murderer, he wasn't…

Something flashed in Finn's head. The glint of a knife, the feeling of it sinking into flesh like butter. Lich-Jake laughing,

Finn let go of Jake and stepped back, his shoulders heaving and tears running down his cheeks.

Jake tried to touch Finn's shoulder, but Finn flinched away from him like his touch was poison. Jake yanked his hand back, surprise and sadness flashing across his face. Aw geez. The kid was really messed up, huh? And Jake didn't know how to deal with it. Finn had always been a little screwed up brain-wise and this whole adventure hadn't done the poor kid any favors. Abandoned as a baby, adopted, growing up with no parents and just his brother to raise him for so long. Jake couldn't begin to picture what Finn's mind looked like.

“Hey, bro,” said Jake. “I'm right here, okay? I'm all peaches, dude. Not dead.”

Finn hugged himself and shook his head. Yeah, he was glad that Jake was alive. But his Jake wasn't the only one who mattered. There was another Jake in another reality, dead or dying because his brother stabbed him through the shoulder with a knife. Because Finn killed him.

“I'm good,” said Finn. “I'll be okay.”

Jake squinted and folded his arms, quirking an eyebrow at that bold claim.

“You sure?” said Jake.

Finn forced a smile and nodded vigorously. He didn't want to burden Jake with his silly problems.

“By the way, why's my arm all like this?” said Finn.

He waved his stump. Finn had gotten used to it way faster than he probably should have. Even though he'd been a member of the Two Arm Club up until a few hours ago, this felt strangely familiar. Natural almost.

“Rain,” said Jake. “She, like, did some stuff to your arm and it healed all the way up.”

Finn stared at his stump, kind of dazed. Wow. Rain was so much more powerful than she gave herself credit for. Witchcraft was no joke. Well, Finn was just thankful that he hadn't bled out on the grass after his arm got ripped off. That would have been the worst ending to their adventure.

The two of them walked back into the house.

Bonnie was still at the kitchen table with the microwave parts. Except now Marcy was sitting on the floor with her head lying across Bonnie's lap. She continued to make fart noises as Bonnie worked.

Bonnie turned and smiled at Finn.

“You're awake,” she said. “Great! I was worried you might have totally conked out forever. You know, because of the stress.”

Finn sat down across from Bonnie at the table and laughed. Same old Bonnibel.

“I guess everything's over for real,” said Finn.

Bonnie looked at him like he'd gone completely nuts. She tossed some of the components onto the table, her brow furrowed.

“Uh, no?” said Bonnie. “Of course not. We've got a bunch of townspeople who have no idea what happened. Yeah, they're not huge melted blobs anymore, but they're freaking out.”

Marcy shut her eyes and hummed a little.

“Don't forget Simon's empty house,” she said. “We've gotta do something about all his junk. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Peter's car got wrecked?”

Peter spoke up from where he was sitting on the floor.

“And of course there's the crushing realization that alternate realities exist and different versions of ourselves are currently suffering in an endless hellscape that is a direct result of Betty tearing open a hole in the fabric of the universe, an event somehow both avoidable and inevitable,” said Peter.

Finn sagged in his chair. He felt Jake's hand on his shoulder.

“Oh,” he said.

Marcy opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling and frowning.

“Did we forget the Lich?” she said. “Because his essence or whatever is still inside Willow's son, so we should probably keep an eye on that.”

Bonnie took an extremely deep breath, staring at the ruined microwave on the kitchen table. The entire house smelled like apple pie. Willow was humming a happy jaunty tune to herself. Despite everything, the house felt warm and safe.

“Do you guys wanna get some pizza?” said Bonnie.

There was a long stretch of silence. They'd all been thinking the exact same thing for the past hour or so, but Bonnie was the only one brave enough to say it out loud.

“I could go for a slice,” said Kara. “Or three.”

Everyone else nodded, indicating that they were also in a pizza kind of mood.

Chapter Text

The pizza place was weirdly quiet. Well, not just the pizza place. The whole place was basically a ghost town. Everyone who hadn't been turned into a monster blob thing was still hiding in their house. And everyone who wasturned into a monster blob thing was wandering around somewhere else, trying to figure out what the heck happened.

Bonnie zipped up her borrowed hoodie, stuffing her hands into her pockets. Oh crabs. How was she supposed to explain this? How did she make this sound less bonkers? Should she even bother telling the truth? Everyone was gonna think Bonnie was nuts. Maybe keeping her head down should be Priority One?

Marcy looped her arm around Bonnie's.

“Cheer up, doofus,” she said. “We totes trashed that dude!”

Bonnie laughed, leaning into Marcy's side. Yeah, they did trash that dude. Something to be thankful for in a sea of chaos. Despite all the odds stacked against them, they actually won. Bonnie had to keep reminding herself.

Finn walked into the pizza place first. It felt like decades since he'd last been there. The stink of cheese and sauce was still in the air. And even though the entire town had been huge giant chaos for the past few days, everything was pretty much spotless.

Fortunately, the pizza oven was still working. Kara got the emergency generator up and running.

And no one had to play pizza chef, because there were a ton of frozen pizzas stuffed into the freezer. In less than twenty minutes, they were all sitting down and enjoying a nice slice of pizza. Just like old times.

Bonnie chewed a mouthful of pizza. Geezums. Bonnie almost forgot that this was where it all began. Less than two weeks ago, she'd been working as a pizza delivery person. Or pizza jockey, as Finn said once. She was studying in university. How could Bonnie go back to all that? After the stuff she'd seen, the world she'd helped save?

She swallowed her mouthful of pizza. Easy answer: she couldn't. The stuff Bonnie had experienced was going to live inside her forever. How could she write essays full of complete lies? How could she look any professor in the eye again, knowing they were more clueless than her?

Marcy was sitting on Bonnie's lap, nibbling on a piece of pepperoni.

“What's up, B-B?” said Marcy.

Bonnie let out a long frustrated sigh. She needed something to wash down that pizza, but she knew everything in the soda machine was loaded with more sugar than any reasonably normal human was meant to ingest. In fact, Bonnie suspected the soda was literally just sugar water and fizz with off-brand names and flavors slapped on the labels. One of Max's little secrets.

“What am I supposed to do?” she said.

Marcy slapped both of her knees and made a pooting sound with her mouth. Aw geez. Bonnie had a good point. What were they supposed to do? This should have been the part where Marcy bailed, leaving to have some wild adventure in another part of the world. Her work there was done. No Simon, no monsters. The only thing holding Marcy back was Bonnie's adorable face.

“You wanna meet my dad?” said Marcy.

Bonnie booped Marcy's cheek with her greasy finger, making a long exaggerated fart nose and waggling her tongue.

“In, like, the demon dimension?” said Bonnie.

Marcy grabbed Bonnie's hand and squeezed it.

“It's called the Nightosphere, genius,” said Marcy. “It's totes nutso. Haven't been back in, like, ever. But I think you'd like it. It is so gronked up.”

Bonnie stared at the slice of pizza on her plate. Of course there was so much to learn from this world. People to meet, things to see, monsters to slay. Why would Bonnie limit herself to all this surface level trash? Except, well, she couldn't spend the rest of her life hanging out with Marceline. Could she?

“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “I'll–I'll meet your dad.”

Marcy blushed and rubbed her cheeks.

“Oh grod, dude,” she said. “Didn't think you'd say yes.”

Bonnie sank deeper into her seat and didn't say anything. Yeah, that totally caught her off guard. Although in Bonnie's defense, she'd never gotten to the “meet the parents” part of any relationship. Because this was pretty much her first real relationship.

“Hey, Peter,” said Bonnie. “Is there, like, a school? A school for dudes like you? I mean, how do you get that job?”

Peter plucked a piece of pepperoni off his slice and popped it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, frowning at Bonnie's question. He probably should have been against the idea, but he was kind of past trying to keep Bonnie away from this. A little too late for that.

“Um, no?” said Peter. “You kind of just fall into it. Self-taught.”

Bonnie rubbed her left wrist. Well, she already had access to the books. Big thanks to Simon–rest in peace–for having a huge library full of all the info Bonnie could ever want. And what the heck else was Bonnie supposed to do? Just pretend none of this supernatural bulldonk was real? Ignore it, pretend it never happened? Bonnie was physically incapable of that.

Marcy grabbed both of Bonnie's hands and squeezed them, her eyes lighting up.

“You are gonna look totes sexy in your ghost-hunting gear,” she said.

Bonnie blushed. When was the last time someone called her “sexy”? Probably never. Bonnie was used to “cute”. Even Finn called her “cute”.

She glanced at Finn. Finn was locked in conversation with Kara.

Bonnie let out a long sigh. Now that Finn was totally over her, she might be able to tell him the truth: if he'd been her age and they'd met under different circumstances, there was every chance it could have worked out. Anything was possible, right? Especially now that Bonnie knew the multiverse existed. But in this universe, there was no way it was ever going to happen. And not just because of the age difference. She was older than Finn in ways he was never going to understand. Bonnie had been forced to grow up a lot faster than most people. She got burned out on making friends and other kid stuff at a very early age. By contrast, Finn was basically still a little kid inside.

Jake reached forward and snagged a piece of pizza off Finn's plate. He frowned and raised an eyebrow when Finn didn't react to this heinous crime of pizza theft. Normally this would have been the inciting incident for a ten-minute brotherly wrestling match. Finn was clearly still messed up.

Jake swallowed, holding the slice in one hand and chewing his bottom lip. He'd been doing a ton of thinking lately. Probably a side effect of being possessed and having to see himself–or at least an alternate version–get stabbed by his brother.

“Hey, duder,” said Jake. “Uh–”

Finn tore his attention away from Kara and looked at Jake.

Jake put down the slice of pizza and fidgeted with his fingers. Ugh. He really hated this. Having to be the adult was so tiring. How did Bonnie put up with it?

“If you wanna, like–uh–go to university or whatevs,” said Jake. “I'm with you, dude. All the way. True bros.”

He made it sound like a suggestion, but it was practically an order. Jake didn't like bossing Finn around. He didn't like having to actually, well, parent his younger brother. Despite the age gap, they were still siblings. But if anyone needed to get out of town forever, it was Finn.

Finn folded his hands on the table, refusing to make eye contact with Jake.

“It's okay, bro,” said Finn. “I'm totes plumps.”

Before this all started, Finn had been planning on dropping out of school. He knew Jake was going to be ticked off, but Finn just couldn't take it anymore. It was way too much pressure. Finn had been saving up money, hoping to go on some kind of road trip with Jake. Finn knew Jake had a ton of cash squirreled away. They could have gone almost anywhere. But Finn was starting to think that wasn't happening.

Peter sucked in a deep breath.

“Finn, stay in school,” he said. “Please. I know you think you're gonna be some kind of big hero guy, but you're just going to get killed. And Jake doesn't want that.”

Finn blushed and ducked his head. Crap. Was it that obvious? Did everyone know Finn wasn't okay?

It was kind of ironic. Finn had been thinking of doing something drastic for his future. He was always thinking of doing something drastic for his future. But this time he meant it. A brand new world had opened up for Finn. A world of monsters and magic. If the circumstances had been different, Finn would have jumped at the chance to be a part of it. But every time he thought about those past few days, he remembered Other Jake pitching backward into the rift.

Max marched into the pizza place. He was wearing an oversized fur coat and sunglasses. His friend Toronto was right behind him, carrying a battered and clearly used soft serve machine.

“Oh goodie,” said Max. “You're all here!”

He whipped off his sunglasses and winked. He didn't seem to notice how bruised and tired everyone was.

“Wowie,” said Max. “Did you guys see how messed up it is out there? Geezums! It's like the end of the world.”

He pointed at Bonnie, Finn, Marcy, and Kara in turn.

“Oh, and you're all fired,” said Max. “You were supposed to be at work–um–I think ten hours ago? Whatevs. Do not list me as a reference, okay?”

He turned back to Toronto.

“You wanna loot?” said Max. “I feel like more looting.”

Toronto dropped the soft serve machine–Bonnie was surprised it didn't shatter into a million pieces like glass–and the two of them walked out.

Finn looked at Bonnie, his brow furrowed.

“Wait, did he just fire us?” he said. “What the heck, dude?”

Marcy floated out of her chair and over to the dropped soft serve machine. She reached out to touch it, but pulled her hand back as the machine sparked and sputtered. It looked like Max had dug the machine out of the junkyard. Or Max had just bought it super cheap from some shady Internet guy.

“Um, I think this might, like, actually kill someone,” said Marcy.

Bonnie shrugged. Yeah, most likely. The lawsuits were inevitable. More inevitable than usual. But it wasn't her problem anymore. Bonnie had been officially relieved of pizza duty. From now on, she was a regular civilian.

Finn swallowed a mouthful of pizza. He was already feeling sick. Finn couldn't tell if the pizza was bad or if he'd just eaten too much. Either way, he was getting kind of puke-y and his hands were covered in grease. It was a new and scary feeling.

“Could probably just come back in a wig and get hired again,” said Finn.

Bonnie nodded. Sure, there was no way this stuck. Max would either hire them again–because who else would be desperate enough to work at this place?–or forget he fired them because he was neck-deep in another scheme. But did Bonnie want to keep working there? Did she want to spend the next several years fighting through a torrent of crappy memories? No, not if she didn't have to.

Hey, the town could always use more people like Peter and Hollyhock. And beyond that, there were tons of towns and cities and villages just like Candace. Remote mountain villages, shrines, forests. All over the world. And Bonnie wanted to see them all.

Chapter Text

Marcy knocked on the door with both hands, biting her lip.

Was introducing your girlfriend to your parents–well, parent–supposed to be this nerve-wracking? Consider Marcy's nerves thoroughly wracked. It wasn't like this was a new experience. She'd done this before. With Ash. Except her dad never liked Ash and Marcy knew exactly why. Hopefully Hunson Abadeer's reaction to Bonnie would be less angry.

She glanced at her beautiful girlfriend. If Marcy's heart had been beating, it would have fluttered. Bonnie had her hair tied back in a bun and she was wearing one of Marcy's band T-shirts. Marcy had asked–begged–for Bonnie to wear something else, anything else. Because Marcy knew her dad was going to make a comment about the shirt. But Bonnie insisted and Marcy just gave in.

“Liking the Nightosphere so far?” said Marcy.

Bonnie looked around. She'd seen about three floating heads and a giant hell-best with two butts stomping around. Everything was some shade of red or black and there were literally rivers of bananas everywhere for some reason. And in the center of that chaos, Abadeer lived in his modest little cottage house.

“It's, uh, nice,” said Bonnie.

Marcy laughed as the front door opened.

“Don't lie, dude,” she said.

Hunson Abadeer was standing in the doorway. He was wearing a suit.

“Aww, she's back,” he said.

Bonnie blushed. For some reason, she was picturing Marcy in a suit. And she had to admit, she was not opposed to the idea. Bonnie wondered how she could bring it up without sounding like a perv.

“Hey, Dadders,” said Marcy.

She rubbed the back of her neck, gesturing awkwardly in Bonnie's direction.

“Here's the–uh–the GF,” she said.

Abadeer put his hands on his hips and squinted at Bonnie, studying her like she was a specimen. Well, he instantly liked her more than Ash. Ash had such a punchable face. Bonnie looked like she could actually hold a conversation.

“Isn't she a little out of your league?” said Abadeer.

Marcy rolled her eyes, playfully slapping Abadeer's shoulder as she marched past him and into the house.

“Dad, no,” she said. “Geez.”

Bonnie followed Marcy into the house. She was caught off guard by how normal the interior looked. Why did demons and vampires have such a knack for interior decorating? It was literally just an average living space, with a couch and a kitchen and a door leading to a bedroom. There were even family photos all over the walls.

Abadeer shut the door behind them. He jerked his thumb at Bonnie.

“This one better not hurt my little girl,” he said.

Marcy looped her arm around Bonnie's shoulders and pulled her close, her cheeks lighting up.

“She's not Ash, okay?” said Marcy.

Abadeer walked into the kitchen, shaking his head. Sure, Bonnie obviously wasn't Ash. Ash was a mistake, although Marcy was way too proud to admit it. That had been a dark time in Marcy's life.

“I got it, I got it,” said Abadeer. “But Ash really was a dick, honey. You know that right? He was a dick?”

Marcy snorted. Boy, did she ever. A part of her was still traumatized by that asshole. Marcy couldn't believe she'd ever dated that creep.

“Yeah, and a punk and probs a criminal,” said Marcy. “The bad kind.”

Abadeer grabbed two sodas from the fridge. He handed them to Bonnie and Marcy.

Bonnie popped open her soda and took a long swig. It was incredibly hot outside. Bonnie desperately needed the sugar and caffeine. That had been a lot of walking.

“What flavor is this?” said Bonnie.

Abadeer pointed at the can in Bonnie's hand.

“Oh, that's, uh, goat's blood,” said Abadeer.

Bonnie choked, clapping a hand over her mouth and gagging.

Marcy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Har har har,” said Marcy. “Cut it out, Dad.”

Bonnie held the soda can away from her, like she was scared it might try to bite her. She wasn't sure if Abadeer had been joking or if Marcy was just mad at him for saying it out loud. Either way, Bonnie was suddenly not in a soda mood. Maybe she should stick to water?

Marcy took a sip of her own soda. She stuck out her tongue.

“Ewww, avocado,” she said.

She grabbed Bonnie's arm, a huge smile on her face.

“Wanna see my room?” said Marcy.

Bonnie's heart started thumping at mach speed. Wait, what? How had that never even crossed Bonnie's mind? She kind of forgot that this was where Marcy had grown up. Probably because Bonnie's old house–and her old bedroom–was just an attic room filled with junk. Not exactly standard for a little kid.

She let Marcy lead her up the stairs and into her old bedroom. Bonnie plopped down on the bed, her cheeks burning.

Holy cripes. So this was where Mercy spent her formative years? That must have been forever ago. Bonnie couldn't even imagine the last time Marcy had slept in that room.

The walls were covered in ripped band posters. The bed was super uncomfortable, but Bonnie kind of liked that. The room had so much Marcy in it. Just in case Bonnie forgot that her girlfriend was a vampire. No mirrors. And most of the posters were for bands that had gone out of style way before Bonnie was even born.

She fidgeted with her fingers. Was this weird? Sure, they were both adults and that made it sort of okay. And it wasn't like Marcy acted over a thousand years old. Bonnie was one hundred percent the mature one in the relationship. But Marcy had experienced so much history first hand. Not just in short bursts, but actually living through it in her normal everyday life.

“Um, Marcy,” said Bonnie. “What were you, uh, doing before all that jim-jazz? You know, in Candace?”

Marcy was floating next to the opposite wall. She shrugged at Bonnie's question, crossing her arms.

“Traveling,” said Marcy. “Like, everywhere mostly. There's some stuff out there, Bonnibel.”

Bonnie made circles on the comforter with her finger, staring at her lap. How did she ask something like this without sounding, well, pathetic? Bonnie had barely left her hometown since she was a kid. Her favorite activity as a child? Scouring the local junkyard for materials. Literally digging through trash to find spare parts for her latest invention. Until her uncle interfered in Bonnie's life because he decided she needed more social interaction. That was maybe the only period of time in which Bonnie got a taste of normal kid life. And she absolutely despised it because of how it turned out. One thing her and Marcy had in common: exes they would rather forget.

“So why'd you choose Candace?” said Bonnie.

Marcy floated over to Bonnie. She cupped Bonnie's face in her hands, grinning widely.

“Because of you, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “My freaky vampire senses told me I'd find my truest love in Candace.”

Bonnie pitched backwards, rubbing both of her cheeks and blushing a deep shade of red. She still wasn't completely used to Marcy touching her. Marcy had always been kind of touchy, but now it was like Marcy couldn't keep her hands to herself. But she respected boundaries and she never pushed.

“For real?” said Bonnie.

Marcy playfully smacked Bonnie's shoulder, throwing her head back and laughing.

“Dude, no,” said Marcy. “Um, "freaky vampire senses”? Are you for real? Of course that's not a thing. Geez, Bonnibel.“

Bonnie turned away, rolling her eyes. Of course her and Marcy meeting wasn't some kind of magical destiny fate. It was just a freak thing. And honestly, Bonnie was okay with that. She didn't need anymore magic in her life.

"I don't know how vampires work, okay?” said Bonnie. “You gotta cut me some slack, Marceline. I'm totes jim-jammed about all this!”

Marcy squinted at Bonnie, rubbing her shoulder.

“Are we fighting?” said Marcy. “Can we not?”

Bonnie rubbed both of her shoulders, looking Marcy in the eye. Were they fighting? They hadn't fought–not seriously–since they got together. Bonnie's uncle told her that fighting and hating each other–for a few hours at a time–was normal for relationships. Bonnie was pleasantly surprised to discover–through research and personal experience–that fighting was not normal for relationships. Disagreements? Sure. But actual verbal sparring matches that ended in hurt feelings? Definitely not healthy. And Bonnie was glad, because she couldn't have handled that in her first real relationship.

“Sorry,” said Bonnie. “But this is–this is nutso Marcy. I'm in your vampire bedroom with my vampire girlfriend. This isn't normal.”

Marcy plopped down on the bed next to Bonnie. She gently rubbed Bonnie's shoulder, flashing a sympathetic smile at her.

“Yeah, and my dad's a demon,” said Marcy. “Totes banana-bread-bonkers, right?”

Bonnie cracked a smile. Yeah, it was totes banana-bread-bonkers. But at least Bonnie could understand it. She'd read a dozen books about relationships and psychology over the past two weeks. Interesting stuff.

“Do you think I'm an idiot?” said Bonnie. “For, um, not going to university?”

Marcy chewed her lower lip. She legitimately envied Bonnie. Marcy never went to high school, never attended university. Growing up the way she did, she never really had a chance. Her family–her and her mom–were always on the move. Hunting demons was a favorite past-time of several dangerous people. Staying in one place wasn't really safe. Not until Marcy was old enough to take care of herself.

She gently touched Bonnie's knee.

“No,” said Marcy. “You're awesome, Bonnibel. Whatever you do with your life, it's gonna be amazing.”

Bonnie fidgeted. Whatever she did with her life, huh? Even giving up a promising steady future in academia to become a hunter like Peter? Finn thought that was completely nuts. And Bonnie almost agreed with him a lot of the time. But she was making plans and that was exciting. There were actual places for people like Bonnie in the world, places where she could get paid to do what Peter and Hollyhock did. Bonnie wanted to be like Simon. Well, not exactly like Simon. She wanted to be everything Simon was before he got cursed and before he sacrificed himself to save the world.

Thanks to some legal stuff even Bonnie couldn't get her head around, Marcy now technically owned Simon's house. The only big problem with that? Marcy didn't want Simon's house. Too many memories, both good and bad. So she was letting Bonnie crash there.

Marcy got up from the bed. She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Uh, so, stop me if this is too much,” said Marcy.

She picked up her old bass. It wasn't the badass one she had now, but it was a pretty good substitute.

“But I was kind of trying to write some new songs,” said Marcy. “I've, uh, been really inspired lately. You know how it is, right?”

She laughed nervously, flicking one of the strings with her finger. Marcy loved the sound it made and the subtle vibration. She'd always loved music. Back when she was a kid, she used to jam out with her mom–and later Simon–to all kinds of songs. Mostly themes from classic TV shows. Marcy had never watched any of the shows, but she absolutely loved the music.

“And I kind of ended up writing one about–about you,” said Marcy. “I hope that's not, you know, whatever.”

Bonnie leaned back on the bed, arching her eyebrow. This wasn't what she'd expected from this visit.

“Oh really?” said Bonnie.

Marcy started strumming her bass. She swallowed and coughed. Marcy hadn't really been planning this. The song wasn't even finished yet. It was totally a work in progress. But Marcy liked what she had so far.

She shut her eyes and started singing, tilting her head back and letting herself go with the music.

“Slow dance with you,” Marcy sang. “I just wanna slow dance with you.”

She went through a few more rough lyrics, humming through the parts she hadn't finished yet. It actually sounded better than Marcy remembered. Or maybe the atmosphere was better? It was better than Marcy hunched over a notebook in her room, muttering and humming to herself as she crossed out and rewrote lyrics.

After Marcy finished the song, Bonnie stood up and started clapping.

Marcy rubbed the back of her neck and grinned sheepishly.

“I know it's not great,” said Marcy. “But–”

Bonnie threw herself into Marcy's arms and planted a big wet smooch on her cheek. Bonnie never thought she'd be so, well, openly affectionate. As is turned out, Bonnie was totally willing to give smooches if she was dating someone she liked. It helped that Marcy was very very open about what she wanted and not shy about setting boundaries. If Marcy wasn't in the mood for touching, she'd let Bonnie know in no uncertain terms. And vice versa.

Bonnie put her arms on Marcy's shoulder, humming the song. Bonnie had never danced with anyone before. And dancing without music felt super awkward. But Bonnie didn't even care anymore.

Bonnie and Marcy slow-danced for the next ten minutes, until Abadeer yelled up the stairs to tell them that dinner was ready.

Chapter Text

Pris finished listening to Finn's story, his mouth set in a thin line. Holy crease.

He knew it was going to be bad, but geez. Of course Pris knew something massive was going down in Candace. He'd seen the monsters and the red sky and he'd felt a disturbance in reality. Pris could feel ripples. And that was a hugefreaking ripple.

“So what should I do?” said Finn.

Pris opened and closed his mouth like a tadpole. Alright, he was a little–just a little–out of his depth. Pris mostly did family disputes, cheating, that kind of stuff. Finn's story had been wilder than anything he was used to. And somehow more depressing.

“Uh, Finn, buddy,” said Pris. “Don't know if you noticed, but, um, this world's kind of gronked up.”

He took off his priest voice for a minute. There was no point in lying to the poor kid.

“Monsters, demons, vampires,” said Pris. “All that stuff is, like, mega donkers. What are you supposed to do with that? What am I supposed to do with that?”

Finn threw up his hands. Seriously? Even the priest was totally lost? What kind of bulldonk was this? He tried asking Hollyhock about this yesterday and her response was even less helpful: “Go to therapy, dude.” Except Finn couldn't “go to therapy” because a therapist wasn't going to believe him. And who else could he talk to? Peter? Bonnie? Definitely not Bonnie, because she was off with Marcy doing Grod-knows-what.

Everyone except Finn was going somewhere or doing something. They were all moving on. So why couldn't he? Why was he so stuck?

“How do you usually deal with it?” said Finn.

Pris wriggled around in his seat, tapping his chin. He shrugged and smiled apologetically.

“Um, you get born into it and it's all you ever really know?” said Pris.

Finn sagged. That did sound like a foolproof way to deal with it. Too bad he wasn't that lucky. And he could have been that lucky. If only his parents had been more honest, had left him and his brother more equipped.

“Geez,” said Finn. “Is there an alternate reality where this is less bongo-beans?”

Pris perked up instantly. He slapped both of his knees, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “There's an alternate reality for everything. Wanna see?”

He took Finn to the secret room under the church, the place where they kept all the super sensitive “religious artifacts”. Pris called it the “holy break room”. There was even a vending machine, an air hockey table, and a mini fridge filled with sodas. Just in case.

Finn plopped down in a chair, rubbing his hands together. Had he ever been religious? Finn thought he'd never gone to church, but he couldn't really be sure anymore. He didn't like talking about it, but something weird happened in his brain after the rift closed. It was like he had all these memories that weren't his, these sensations and ideas and big feelings. On his way to the church, Finn had wondered–vaguely–if Bonnie and her boyfriend would be driving back into town soon. Only for Finn to pause and lightly smack his face cheeks, reminding himself that Bonnie was dating Marceline.

“Reality bleed,” said Pris.

He tapped Finn's head.

Finn recoiled, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. He hadn't brushed it in a week or two. Jake was getting worried, but he was still bad at talking to his brother about stuff like that.

“What?” said Finn.

Pris opened the fridge and grabbed a fizzy lemon-lime soda.

“Reality bleed,” he said. “It's common. You sometimes remember and think stuff from the other reality's Finn. No biggie.”

He tossed the soda at Finn and Finn caught it with one hand.

Finn stared at the soda, rolling it around in his hands. Yeah, that's what he thought was going on. It made this whole thing so much worse. Finn could feel–whenever he looked at Jake or thought about Jake–how much the other him had loved his brother. And thanks to Finn, his other self was suffering. Good thing Finn couldn't feel his other self's emotions in real time.

“Why only me?” he said.

Pris shrugged, leaning against the air hockey table like a cool dude.

“You got closer than anyone else, I think,” said Pris. “And you actually touched someone from there. Well, stabbed. Wild, right? And very sad.”

Finn popped open the soda. He wished he could have asked Bonnie. But Bonnie had turned her phone off a long time ago. Fortunately, not without warning. Where she was going–somewhere deep in the mountains–there was no cell reception or wi-fi.

“So you can't help me?” he said.

Pris instantly took pity on the kid. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Finn felt. The pain, the anger, the confusion. And the reality bleed on top of it. It was like a filthy cocktail of horrible feelings and bad decisions.

“Okay, okay,” said Pris. “How about this?”

He waved his soda around, his eyes lighting up. Pris didn't do this for just anyone. In fact, it had been years since he'd even offered. Finn was never going to appreciate how much Pris was sticking his neck out.

“I grant you a–wait for it, wait for it–a wish,” said Pris.

Finn choked, spitting soda down the front of his shirt.

“Wait, you can fracking do that?” he said. “For real?”

Pris waved his fingers in the air and grinned. Yes, he could indeed “fracking do that”. It was one of the perks of being someone in his, well, position. It just wasn't something Pris felt comfortable offering to his average sufferer. Finn's case was unique.

“But it can't be, like, this huge thing,” said Pris. “You can't wish for, like, everything to be honk-donking good or whatevs. That's not how this works, kiddo.”

Finn was practically bouncing in his seat. He didn't even care. He had so many things he wanted, things he wanted for other people. How could Finn even process what he was being offered?

Pris held up a finger.

“One wish, my dude,” he said.

He waved both hands in the air. A large transparent screen appeared between him and Finn.

“Okay, so here's how it works,” said Pris. “You wish for something. Okay? Got it? You wish and it creates this, like, alternate bubble of reality.”

An image appeared on the hovering screen. It was Finn sitting in a rocking chair, a small yellow dog lying at his feet. Finn was playing the flute and his arm was covered in vines.

“And you instantly get transported to that reality,” continued Pris. “Or at least a version of you does. And you can come back at any time, so no worries there.”

He waved his hand and the screen disappeared. He clasped both hands together.

“So what'll it be?” said Pris. “You gonna wish for something weird?”

Finn rubbed his shoulder. He was rapidly cooling down to the whole idea. Sure, it sounded beyond awesome. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he was making a good call. Finn didn't like messing with alternate realities. In his experience, it never turned out good.

“So I can wish to, like, see people?” said Finn. “Or meet people? I can do that? And then come back if I want?”

Pris twiddled his fingers.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could do that,” said Pris.

Finn sucked in a deep breath. How long had he been waiting for this? It felt like years. Meeting Golb had done something to him, something he couldn't really talk to anyone about. All that supernatural bulldonk made him realize just how fragile his life was. Sure, they won that time. But what about the next time? And the time after that? How could Finn be sure they'd survive again after they barely passed the first test with flying colors?

“I want to meet my dad,” he said. “Like, my birth dad.”

Pris squinted at Finn, his brow furrowing with sympathy.

“Whoa,” he said. “That's heavy, man. You sure?”

Finn held up his one remaining arm and wriggled his stump. He was getting used to this “only having one arm” thing. Getting used to it faster than was normal, Bonnie had pointed out. Yeah, Finn shouldn't have been adapting so quickly. He wasn't sure why or how, just that it freaked everyone out. Then again, it freaked Finn out how everyone was so okay about what happened. Sure, not okay as in they were all going back to their normal lives. “Okay” as in they were taking it super well. Or at least the adults were pretending to cope.

Finn smiled bitterly. And there it was. The truth he'd stowed away in the back of his mind closet. None of them–especially Bonnie–was anything even approaching fine. They were all putting on their bravest faces for Finn because Finn was, well, a kid. But Finn knew it was just an act. He caught Jake sobbing into Rain's chest a few nights ago, although both of them pretended Jake was just getting upset about the cheesy rom-com they were watching. Bonnie seemed alright the last time they video-chatted, but Finn had noticed the bags under her eyes. When he asked her about the last time she slept a full night, Bonnie changed the subject and started asking about his future plans for school.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” said Finn.

Pris rubbed his forehead.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he said. “First, you need to do something for me. Capoots?”

Finn tensed up. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. He was playing with dark forces, people who really knew their stuff.

“I think it's–I think it's "capiche”,“ said Finn.

Pris turned around, grabbing something from the bookcase.

"Aw, dang,” he said. “For real? Aw geez. I owe my GF thirty bucks.”

He turned back around, cradling something in his arms. It looked like a jar.

Finn automatically recoiled, trying not to look at the jar. This was already beyond what he was expecting. What kind of dark deed would he have to perform? Could he do it? How far was Finn willing to go? He might have already slammed headfirst into his limit.

Pris shoved the jar into Finn's arms, a huge grin spreading out on his face.

“Okay, so there are way too many pickles in my house,” said Pris. “Because I love pickles. So could you, like, take these to your big bro? Or something? I don't care. I just don't want my GF to get ticked off at me again. You know how it is, right?”

Finn stared at the jar in his arms. Yep, it was definitely pickles. Very normal pickles floating in light green liquid. Homemade pickles.

“Um, sure?” said Finn. “I can do that.”

Pris clapped his hands, clearly relieved. Oh thank Grod. Sharing an apartment was going to be extra stressful if he couldn't curb his pickle habit.

“You're the greatest,” said Pris. “Now, about your dad…”

Finn put the jar on the table.

Pris waved his hands around Finn's head, making spooky ghost sounds.

“Now just close your eyes and think about sunflowers,” he said. “And also pickles. Lots of pickles. And men made of meat. And, um, also your dad, I guess.”

Finn squeezed his eyes shut and did what Pris told him to do. If he thought hard enough, he could almost see his dad's face. Or at least what he imagined his dad looked like. Probably seven feet tall. Long blonde beard. Huge muscles bulging out of his unreasonably small midriff shirt. Legs like tree trunks.

He opened his eyes.

“Wait, why do I–?” he started.

Pris batted the top of Finn's head.

“Beep bop boop,” said Pris.

And Finn fell backward into nothing. He screamed all the way down, holding his stump and staring into the abyss as it stretched above him.

Chapter Text

Finn stood outside the small rundown house, curling and uncurling the fingers on his intact hand. He swallowed this massive lump in his throat.

So this was it, huh? His dad's house. His real dad's house. Martin Mertens. First impressions? Not what Finn was gearing up for. He'd been expecting some kind of, well, cool crib. A penthouse apartment or something. But this was a total dump. The front was completely busted, spilling the elements into this ramshackle excuse for a house. It looked abandoned. Maybe it was abandoned?

Finn nudged what remained of the door with his foot. One way to find out, right?

He didn't even knock. Rude, but Finn was seriously worried the door might disintegrate under his hand. Bad way to introduce himself to his long-lost pops. The house–more of a shack–was already so skeletal. Finn couldn't imagine how much more pathetic it would look without a front door.

He stepped inside, letting the door shut behind him. It was way cleaner on the inside. There was a stained mattress, an oven, and some boarded up windows. The walls were covered in posters for concerts and pictures of space stations. It kind of looked like Finn's childhood bedroom, except a little cleaner and less furniture.

He rubbed his arm. Maybe he got sent to the wrong place? This did not look like where his dad would live. Not that Finn knew his dad, but this definitely didn't look good. Crud. Were things that bad after Martin got out of prison?

“Martin?” Finn yelled into the house.

No answer. But there was a door leading out to the backyard. Finn walked across the room and went through that door, expecting more of the same.

The backyard wasn't the super overgrown mess Finn had expected. The lawn was neatly trimmed and there were some nice lawn chairs set up. The yard was full of mechanical parts, gears, and a giant apple tree. The house was in the middle of nowhere, clearly emptied out for a while. But the backyard looked like it was mowed regularly.

There was a chubby man with a beard and mustache standing next to what looked like a half-destroyed rocket ship. He was chugging a soda as he admired his work.

Finn cleared his throat. Oh crabs. What was he supposed to say? “Hey, Martin, it's your son Finn. You know, the son you maybe abandoned? I'm totes okay with that, by the way. Totes-McGoats. It's just, uh, I've kinda been wanting to meet ya since I found out you were alive.”

Before Finn could say anything, Martin turned around. He was wearing a red jumpsuit with shoulder pads and a name tag. According to the name tag, his name was Cool Guy.

“Oooh, a vistor!” said Martin.

He waved his soda at Finn, like he wasn't surprised to see some random kid in his backyard.

“Okay, I'm gonna need you to pick up that,” said Martin. “Can you do that?”

He pointed at a discarded welder that was just lying on the grass next to a piece of sheet metal.

“And attach that thingy to, um, this big red thingy,” said Martin.

He jabbed two fingers at the unfinished rocket.

Finn opened his mouth. He stared to say, “No, I'm not here to help you with–uh–whatever you're doing.” But for some reason, the words wouldn't come out of his throat. They got trapped in there, this huge lump that Finn couldn't swallow. So he gave up. He grabbed the welder, trying to act casual.

“Uh, you got any goggles?” said Finn. “And gloves?”

Martin shrugged, as if the idea had never crossed his mind.

Huffing out a sigh, Finn disappeared into the house in search of supplies. Finn wasn't really in the mood to torch his eyes off. Where did Martin even get all those tools and materials? Did he swipe them from a construction site?

He found a pair of goggles and some gloves in the fridge, next to a carton of milk. So there was electricity. A generator?

Finn grabbed the goggles and a glove and went back outside. He had two million questions. What was happening? Why was his dad living alone in this rundown shack? Why had Martin never even tried to contact his only son?

Martin was lounging in one of the lawn chairs.

“Took you long enough, sport,” he said.

Finn put on the goggles and glove. Holding the welder was going to be a hassle–and also totes dangerous–but he didn't have a choice. If Finn refused and left, that would be the end. He'd never know the truth.

He picked up the welder, holding it awkwardly in one hand.

Martin rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance. He got out of his chair and headed over, snatching up the piece of sheet metal. Martin held it up, keeping it steady so Finn could use the welder.

Finn smiled gratefully.

“Thanks,” he said.

Martin squinted at Finn.

“Wowser,” said Martin. “Do I know you?”

Finn blushed, trying to keep the welder at a decent angle. One slip and he was borked. Finn was starting to think he couldn't operate that thing with one hand.

“Nope,” said Finn.

Martin tilted his head to the side.

“Weird,” he said. “You sort of look like my son. He was a little buff baby just like you.”

Finn stared at the sheet of metal, his heart pounding hard. He couldn't believe Martin just said that, totally unprompted. Did Martin think about Finn more than he was letting on? Was this a common topic?

“Where, um, is he?” said Finn.

Martin pressed both hands against the metal. He seemed to have forgotten that Finn was supposed to be welding.

“Don't know,” said Martin. “Probably long gone somewhere. Doesn't really need his old pops, you know? Not much use for this old hand.”

Finn felt something hot and angry rise in his chest, but he fought it down.

“So you haven't seen him since he was a baby?” he said. “That's gronked up.”

Martin grabbed the welder out of Finn's hand.

“Grab me a soda, why don't ya?” he said.

Finn walked over to the cooler. Oh crabs. He messed up, right? Conversation over. No answers for Finn.

But Martin started talking again. He sounded way too happy, like he was retelling some kind of epic adventure.

“I didn't have a choice,” said Martin. “We gots to do what we gots to do, am I right? And what I gots to do is let my boy go.”

He tilted his head back.

“Me and my boy, we used to live on this island,” said Martin. “With my cute little wife of mine. We were happy. Sunshine-walking every day.”

His voice lowered. He took the soda Finn offered, staring at the unfinished rocket.

“But then a storm happened,” said Martin. “One of those big honking ragers. We were taking the kiddo out on the boat and–and–”

Martin stopped, his brow furrowed. He looked like he hadn't meant to say that part, as if he got carried away. He popped his soda open.

“But whatever,” said Martin. “You win some, you lose some.”

And he sounded as if he meant in, as if he'd made peace with his son's–Finn's–death or disappearance.

“I know he's out there,” said Martin. “Doing well, I hope.”

Finn swallowed.

“So Mom….I mean, your wife,” said Finn. “She bit it, huh? For real?”

Martin nodded absently.

“Boy howdy, did she bite it,” said Martin. “I miss her every day.”

And Finn believed him. He believed that Martin mourned his old life, his happy domestic existence with his wife and kid. But he also believed that Martin was over it, that Martin was never really made for domestic life.

“So what's this?” said Finn.

Martin blinked at him, surprised.

“Wait, you don't know?” said Martin. “What the donk, my man?”

He gestured towards the unfinished rocket.

“You are looking at Martin Enterprises and their latest venture!” said Martin. “Space travel.”

He nudged Finn and winked.

“You want in, my dude?” said Martin. “Only two thousand dollars. Kids have that kind of cash nowadays, right?”

Finn stared at the mess of parts that kind of resembled a rocket. He'd assumed it was a passion project or something.

“Someone's paying you to build that biz?” said Finn.

Martin shook his head.

“Several wealthy donors are paying me to build this biz,” said Martin. “Well, not me. My rotating crew of excellent workers who totes believe in my vision.”

Finn sighed. Oh. Martin was grifting money from a bunch of well-off suckers and paying–probably not well–a bunch of kids to help him do the tough work. Why was Finn not surprised? How did a part of him know this was going to happen?

Finn studied his dad. Why did Martin look so much like his old boss? Or at least the way they talked was kind of the same, except Max seemed a lot more successful at what he did. Martin and Max could have swapped tips. Or maybe they would have been platonic soulmates.

“I gotta go,” said Finn.

He thought he wanted to learn more about his family. And he did, despite everything. He learned more than he ever wanted to.

Martin waved as Finn turned and left. What a nice kid. A little weird, but that was alright. Weird was good.

Martin frowned, squinting at the back of Finn's head. That hair did look familiar. It had clearly been long a while ago, but the kid had chopped it off. It was all messy and blonde now. It reminded Martin of his wife. Strange coincidence.

Finn stopped on the front stoop, standing in front of the busted front door. He thought meeting his dad would make him happy, that he'd find some peace. But that wasn't how it worked, was it? Finn didn't even have the guts to tell Martin who he was.

“Sucks, don't it?”

Pris was standing next to Finn, a hand on his shoulder. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans.

Finn didn't bother asking where Pris came from. Finn had seen enough weird stuff to not question anything.

“This is so donked up,” said Finn. “Like, what the crease? Why is he like that?”

Pris shrugged. That was one question he couldn't answer. Why was anyone like anything? People were complex. But that wasn't the answer Finn wanted, so Pris kept it to himself.

“Dunno, dude,” said Pris. “This is all, like, bad up to the max, you know? Totes plompers.”

Finn rubbed his shoulder.

“I wanna go home,” he said. “To my, uh, own universe. Where none of this happened.”

He wasn't sure if that was how it worked, but it seemed like what was happening. He couldn't wrap his brain around Pris's explanation for how wishes were granted.

“Okay, okay, got it,” said Pris.

He looked at Finn, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You sure?” said Pris. “This was a rare courtesy. I'm not doing this again. No blipping way.”

Finn glanced at the busted front door. He still had some questions. About Martin, about his mom, about the kind of life he could have had. And he knew Pris could answer those questions with a snap of his fingers. But for some reason, Finn just didn't give a blee-blop anymore.

“Take me home,” said Finn.

Finn instantly felt himself falling again. Back into reality. His reality, the one he lived in with his brother Jake and all his friends. The one where, despite all the donked up crap, he was happy.

Chapter Text

Bonnie hit the brakes, bringing the van to an abrupt stop. In front of her, there was a bunch of foliage blocking their way.

“Son of a blee-blop!” said Bonnie.

To be fair, Bonnie loved nature. Nature was pretty donking awesome. But why did nature have to be such a fart? The path had disappeared about ten minutes ago, the ground getting rougher and harder to traverse. And now they were totally cut off.

She sank back into her seat, letting go of the wheel.

“Flump my life,” said Bonnie.

Marcy rubbed Bonnie's shoulder and smiled. Bonnie was so cute when she got frustrated. And with her hair up in a ponytail like that? And the trucker hat, the shirt, and the ripped jeans? Bonnie had officially reached goddess levels of fashion.

Earlier, Marcy had asked, “What the fluff are you wearing?”

And Bonnie had blushed, tipped the brim of her trucker hat, and mumbled, “It's my vacation outfit. For vacations.”

And Marcy didn't have the heart to tell Bonnie that she looked like a lesbian deer hunter. Not that Marcy was complaining.

Marcy didn't really have any room to mock Bonnie's sense of fashion. She was wearing one of Bonnie's hoodies–the pinkest she could find–and a pair of mom jeans. Today was seriously bizzaro.

Bonnie leaned forward and tapped the wheel with her fingers.

“Guess we're walking,” said Bonnie.

She huffed out a sigh. She did not want to just abandon their poor van. On the other hand, they were in the middle of nowhere. Not a lot of van thieves this far away from civilization. Maybe some angry bears and sketchy raccoons.

Marcy patted both of her knees, kicking her feet like a little kid.

“You're walking,” said Marcy. “The queen prefers floating.”

Bonnie snorted, shoving open the driver's side door and grabbing her rucksack and machete.

“Is the queen gonna carry her girlfriend?” said Bonnie.

Marcy blushed. Dang it. How did she always react to that? It had been months since they started dating. Months since Marcy introduced Bonnie to her dad. So why did Marcy still get all blushy when Bonnie said “girlfriend”? It made no sense.

“Get those legs pumping, Bonnibel,” said Marcy.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. Yep, that made sense. Marcy was so donking selfish sometimes. Good thing Marcy was adorable and an awesome kisser. It almost made up for her being such a brat.

“No smooches for you,” said Bonnie.

She didn't mean it, but Marcy didn't need to know that.

Marcy grabbed the front of her chest and gasped dramatically, floating upside down. The idea of a smooch-less life with her precious girlfriend terrified her to the core, more than any vengeful demon or ghost ever could.

“Oh snips, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “You suck.”

Bonnie grinned, flashing a wink at Marcy.

“Hecks yeah, I do,” said Bonnie. “And you love it.”

Marcy covered her blushing face with her hands and groaned loudly in frustration. Geez. When did Bonnie turn into such a perv? Marcy liked to pretend she'd corrupted her innocent little GF, but Marcy knew that was bulldonk. Bonnie was never “innocent”.

Bonnie unsheathed her machete. She used it to hack through some of the foliage blocking their way, humming a song by The Beedles as she worked.

Marcy stared at the back of Bonnie's head, hands shoved into the pockets of her–Bonnie's–dark pink hoodie. Bonnie had been unusually cheerful over the past few weeks. Was it just getting away? Driving out into the middle of butt-fart nowhere? Bonnie had been stressed out of her mind for the past few months, trying to keep up with classes. As it turned out, Bonnie's latest academic pursuit was a lot more mentally and physically taxing. At least Bonnie was learning some valuable skills, like how to use a machete.

“So what's this, like, legendary artifact thing?” said Marcy. “Like, what does it do?”

She somehow forgot to ask before they drove all the way out there. Marcy wasn't sure blind trust was a good idea at this stage, but whatevs. She knew Bonnie was an expert.

Bonnie switched over to humming one of Marcy's songs. The one about fries.

“Oh, there's no legendary artifact,” said Bonnie. “I lied.”

Marcy quirked an eyebrow, surprised.

“Wait, for reals?” said Marcy.

Bonnie shrugged. She was probably supposed to feel bad, but honestly? She felt amazing. The last few months had been horrible. Her muscles were still sore and she was seeing star maps behind her eyelids every time she blinked. Bonnie's brain was filled with maps and anatomy sketches and old photographs and math equations and ancient languages. She was tired.

It wasn't like Bonnie hated her classes or anything. She absolutely loved them to pieces. The professors were great, they were really flexible with deadlines–something Bonnie never thought she'd need–and the environment was surprisingly chill. It was just the workload kicking Bonnie's ass.

“I needed a vacation,” said Bonnie.

Marcy jabbed a finger into Bonnie's back and grinned wide.

“Oh crease, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “You are such a rebel. I like it.”

Bonnie blushed, hacking away at the foliage. She appreciated Marcy's comment, but all Bonnie did was ask for some time off so she could go “artifact hunting”. If Bonnie hadn't had such good standing with her professors and been on top of her work, there was no way they would have given her the time off. Not exactly “rebellious”. Aggressively responsible and reaping the benefits.

“If we do find a legendary artifact, that would be pretty awesome,” said Bonnie.

Marcy frowned, a thought flitting into her head.

“Are you not into school?” said Marcy. “You think you're gonna drop out?”

Bonnie bit her lip, pausing with the machete raised. Sure, she'd been considering it. Who wouldn't? This kind of work wasn't for the faint of heart. Bonnie wasn't the faint of heart. Not under normal circumstances. But the events of the past year had broken something inside of her. Bonnie was legitimately scared of things that went bump in the night. Why wouldn't she be? Ghosts, demons, gods from other dimensions. It was all real. And now that Bonnie had dipped her toes into that world, she could never have a normal life.

Bonnie never talked about this, but she was having more nightmares. Nightmares and waking dreams. Sleep paralysis. Less than a week ago, Bonnie freaked out because she glimpsed the Lich coming out of her closet. But when Bonnie spun around to look, the closet door was shut. No Lich. That didn't stop Bonnie from searching her entire room, burning a bundle of sage, and calling Finn in the middle of the night to ask if he was okay. Bonnie hadn't slept for that entire night, convinced the Lich was about to burst out from under her bed and drag her into some kind of hell dimension.

“I don't know,” said Bonnie.

Marcy rubbed Bonnie's shoulders.

“I'm okay with whatever,” said Marcy.

Bonnie tilted her head back, slipping the machete back into its holster.

“I want to live on a deserted island with you,” said Bonnie. “That would be totes bloopy, right?”

Marcy kissed the top of Bonnie's head, holding onto Bonnie's shoulders tight. Yep, that did sound totes bloopy. Just disconnecting from the world. Finn would be pissed, but Finn had other stuff on his plate. The kid would get over it.

Marcy grinned. Speaking of Finn, she'd never been more happy for the kid. He was back in school. Getting a degree in something normal. Trying to put everything behind him, but never forgetting. And Jake was being supportive.

“Or we could live in a van,” said Marcy. “I could be a van-pire.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes and groaned at that horrendous pun. How long had Marcy been waiting to bust out that prime example of humor?

“Vanpires aren't real, ya donk,” said Bonnie.

Marcy bent over and kissed Bonnie's neck. She opened her mouth wide and bared her fangs, hissing like a caged animal. Marcy appreciated how Bonnie didn't even flinch. Bonnie was used to it by now. And she had a bunch of love bites to prove it.

“Not yet, Bonnibel,” said Marcy. “Not yet.”

Bonnie gave another eyeroll, playfully batting Marcy away from her and making a fart sound with her mouth.

“I'll keep an eye out for any, uh, vanpires,” said Bonnie.

She twisted her head around and gave Marcy a little peck on the lips.

Marcy responded by grabbing Bonnie's shoulders, pulling her close, and giving her a long hard smooch.

“We can be vanpires together,” said Marcy. “Then we're both not real.”

Bonnie laughed, pressing her forehead against Marcy's. Actually, that sounded perfect right about now. Bonnie couldn't wait until she cracked the secret of immortality so she could live forever.

But until then, Bonnie wanted to hang onto the things in her life that were real. Her girlfriend, the van, her friendships. And this incredibly terrifying world of vampires, demons, ghosts, and gods.

“I'm kinda hungry,” said Marcy.

She grinned.

“Wanna get a pizza?” she said.

Bonnie wrapped her arms around Marcy's waist, holding her close. She shut her eyes, letting herself soak in the moment. She barely even heard Marcy's question, but she answered it.

“Never again,” said Bonnie.

She was kind of over pizza. Maybe forever. But that was okay. Marcy was ten times better than pizza. Ten times better than anything or anyone else in Bonnie's entire life.