Chapter Text
It had been years since that fateful fight with the vampire king, so many years that it felt like it was ages ago to Marceline. She was as far away from thirteen now as she had been from seven when she was that age, having reached the age of twenty some point recently if her birthday celebrations were to be believed. The world really had changed outside their door since then, mutants becoming more advanced and complex, becoming more humanoid in nature. Or, at least that was what Marcy heard.
The truth was, though the world had moved on, she was still here, in her childhood bedroom her parents had built when she was just a kid. There had been changes, they’d helped her make a new, larger bed, but other than that the actual content of her days hadn’t changed all that much. When she was thirteen, she’d gone through a phase of wanting adventure and escape, only to find that being home was where she wanted to be more than anything. Silently, she kicked the younger version of herself for her betrayal.
Marceline had gotten what she wanted, she had her powers, she had her parents, and they’d stopped the Vampire King. But it’d come at a price, and that price was her last connection to humanity, and her freedom. Marceline, having only been half bitten, received less severe versions of the afflictions vampires had to deal with. If her parents hadn’t been there, also staking the Vampire King, she’d have been a full vampire, and she didn’t know if that would have been better or worse.
Now, Marceline found she needed to subsist on food, as well as the color red, not just one or the other. So she ate less than a regular person, and fed less than a normal vampire. Holy water would sting her, but not enough to leave a visible mark, and eating garlic made her throat close and tingle like she had an allergy. And direct sunlight wouldn’t dust her, or even give her severe burns. It was more like a bad sunburn, though that wasn’t exactly ideal. She’d had to learn all of this in secret, and through trial and error.
That was because she’d lost her freedom, though it wasn’t through malicious means. Her parents clearly blamed themselves for her vampirism, and had seemingly dedicated themselves to ensuring she could never be hurt again. Never mind the fact that it was impossible, it also meant any time Marceline wanted to take any risk, even testing her own limits, they wouldn’t allow it. It was annoying, but she knew she couldn’t really blame them. Being turned was traumatic for her, and they’d been forced to just stand there and watch.
“Marceline, what were you thinking?” Simon tutted, as he gently carried her to her bed and laid her down. Marceline had decided to go out into the sun, to see how long she could take it. She’d snuck out without her sun hat that they’d woven for her, or the sunblock concoction which Betty made out of soy beans which they now grew, just for her. She’d gone on a long walk and had made it about a half hour without sun protection before her burn became too unbearable. “You could have been killed,” Simon insisted, and Marceline rolled onto her side away from him despite the pain.
“No one’s ever been killed from a sunburn,” she muttered, even though she knew that technically she could get skin cancer and die from that. But considering how much time they’d spent in an irradiated wasteland, she was honestly pretty sure that cancer was in their futures regardless. Well, not hers due to her healing powers, but her parents. Marceline thought about that, her parents getting old and withering away while she stayed young, her body no longer aging after a certain point, and she felt sad at the prospect.
“What you have isn’t just a sunburn, it's part of your vamparism, and you need to be more careful,” Betty insisted as she entered her room with a moisturizer she’d made out of aloe vera, along with a few wet rags. “Lay still,” Betty said in that same motherly voice that always made Marceline want to do what she was asking, and she did as she was told, letting Betty slather her concoction on her skin, before placing wet rags on the affected area. Marceline let out a sigh of relief at the feeling, and her muscles relaxed.
“Any mail for me,” Marceline asked, still turned away from her parents. She didn’t want them to see her like this, like she was still some vulnerable child they needed to take care of. They should have their own kids by now, have their own lives by now, and instead they were stuck here taking care of like when she was a kid. She’d sucked up all of their youth without realizing it, and maybe now they’d never have the chance at the life they’d wanted. Marceline was glad she was still turned away from them, because she was starting to tear up.
“Alice sent you something,” Simon said, pulling the letter from his pocket and giving it to Marceline, who’d outstretched her hand without turning to look at them. After the boat left, the humans who’d stayed had kept things the same for a while, living in their old settlement. But slowly and surely, certain people went off to explore, and others integrated with the newly developed mutants, and others had more kids and moved to build their own settlements further away so they’d have more room, and Betty, Simon and Marcy found themselves alone again.
“I’ll read it later,” Marceline said, and her parents nodded, watching over her for a moment longer before finally leaving her and allowing her to be alone. Alice, her best and frankly only friend, had left home about a year ago, maybe a little longer. She sent Marceline letters about all the amazing things she saw, and all the cool people she met. Marceline hated reading her messages because they contained everything she ever wanted and couldn’t have, and yet she always read them anyway.
“I came across a settlement of fish people, and by fish people I don’t just mean talking fish, I mean they looked like people with gills. They didn’t speak much, but I think they were looking for someone to play a concert. You would have been perfect for it, Marceline, which is why I hope you don’t hate me when I say I mentioned you to them. They seemed really excited about the prospect, so if you want to play a concert here are the coordinates,” the letter read in its final portion, with the aforementioned coordinates written down.
Marceline felt her heart racing because she couldn’t believe what she was reading. She had the real possibility of a concert, of sharing her music with people, and here she was cooped up inside of her room instead of living her dream. Marceline was an adult, and she knew it, they all knew it, but she wasn’t acting like one. Maybe a part of her was afraid of leaving home and standing on her own two feet, having gotten too comfortable being coddled. Maybe she was afraid she’d get hurt. But, she’d always been a brave person, and maybe it was time to be brave again.
“Mom, dad, we need to talk,” Marceline said as she sat her parents down at the table that night for dinner. Simon was serving them pasta, his first time trying to make it, and since he’d had to cut the noodles by hand they were uneven. Still, he’d made tomato sauce from the vegetables in their garden, and it smelled delicious. Betty and Simon looked at her curiously as she spoke, but in their hearts, fear began to bubble like it would when you realized you were about to be broken up with. Marceline stared at her food as she let them speak.
“Talk about what? We spend every day together, what could we have to talk about?” Betty said nervously as she speared her pasta with her fork, trying to come up with a way to change the subject from where she knew it was going. All Betty wanted was her family, and she could tell she was about to lose an important piece of it. Simon gave her hand a gentle squeeze under the table because he was always adept at assuaging her fears. “How’d the salve work out? Don’t you think this pasta is delicious,” Betty said, trying to steer the conversation, though Marceline quickly regained control.
“The salve worked out fine, and the pasta is great, but that’s not really what I wanted to talk about,” Marceline said, and finally she looked up, looked into her parent's eyes, the same eyes she’d been avoiding all day. She expected it to make her fold like paper, to swallow her words and to stay here with them, but instead she felt more invigorated to leave than ever. She saw the scant few gray hairs popping up in her parents' heads, the crows feet developing under her eyes. She was draining their youth, and she wanted them to have a chance to correct that.
“What is it, Marcy?” Simon asked even though he was already sure of the answer. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t willfully blind. He could see the way Marceline stared longingly out of her bedroom window, at the world she was missing out on. He noticed that she struggled to look the two of them in the eyes most days. Simon and Betty had really believed they were doing what was best for Marcy, protecting her from being hurt again, but they couldn’t change the past and stop her from being bitten. And right now they were in the way of her future.
“I want to…” Marceline started, before rephrasing. She couldn’t pose this as something she was asking permission for, couldn’t make it seem like this was up for debate or discussion. If she wanted to be treated like an adult and do adult things, she needed to be willing to stand in front of her parents and talk like an adult. “Alice got me a gig performing for some fish people, and I’m going to take it.” Marceline insisted, even though that was only half of her plan. She allowed them to process that part before giving the rest of the details.
“How far away is it?” Betty asked, and Marceline looked at her in a way that told her all she needed to know. Betty was trying to be strong, trying to keep herself from crying because she knew a good parent wouldn’t put their own selfish desire before what their kid needed. “When will you be back?” Betty asked, twirling the pasta on her fork, suddenly unable to look at her daughter. She felt awful about it, but she didn’t know how to look at her and see anything other than the little girl she’d spent years caring for.
“Mom, will you please look at me?” Marceline asked, and she knew it was an unfair request considering how often she failed to do the same thing, but she needed to see her mother’s eyes. She wasn’t asking for permission, but she needed it all the same after years of conditioning. “I’m moving out. I don’t know if I’ll be back,” Marceline said, and for a long moment there was silence. And then, the quiet tears began to fall down Betty’s face and Marceline did want to take it all back, to stay here and never leave.
“Did I- did we do something wrong, Marceline?” Betty asked, even though she knew it was selfish. Marceline wasn’t doing this to hurt her, she wasn’t doing this out of spite. She probably had thought long and hard about this, and now Betty was ruining her moment. Simon went over to hold her, and she felt awful about her reaction to all of this. “I’m sorry,” Betty said, wiping her tears and directing Simon to sit back down. “I’m just worried you’ll get hurt out there,” Betty offered, and Marceline let out a sigh as she explained herself.
“I know that you’re afraid. But I can’t stay here forever; I just can’t. I’m an adult, and it's time I started acting like it,” she said before she leaned over, grabbing each of her parent's hands. “And it's time you two started getting to be people again, instead of parents.” Marceline said, and when they looked at her curiously, she expanded. “You’ve spent the last forever having to take care of me, meanwhile before that you were adventurers and academics. You’re in a whole new world of possibilities, it's time you both explored them.” Marceline added.
“Marcy…” Simon said, and he trailed off for a moment. His gut reaction was to reject what she said, to try and keep her here, but Marceline was right. They’d lost themselves in being her caregivers, and maybe now it was time to find themselves again. He looked over at the book Betty had given him on an anniversary years ago, their own research finally bound and published. Maybe now it was time to start working on their next literary endeavor. “Thank you for telling us.” Simon said, and that gave Betty the strength to agree.
“You really are an amazing kid- no, an amazing young woman. I’m so happy I get to be your mother,” Betty said, and she really did mean it. They finished dinner, with Marceline talking about how she’d miss their cooking and both promising to pack her food to take with her on her journey. She promised that she’d do her best to write, and they assured her she didn’t need to force herself, and that moreover their home would always be here for her if she needed to come back. It was concluded with a tight hug that Marceline hadn’t realized she needed so badly.
Later that night, Marceline looked over at her guitars. Betty and Simon had made her more for her birthdays which had passed, and her current one was a bass, constructed out of a shovel and with the actual capability for electric amplification. The entire thing had clearly taken a lot of effort and technical know-how that came through in the love the thing contained, and she knew that if she was going to take any of her guitars, it was going to have to be this one. Marceline packed what few things she could fit into a backpack, including Hambo who she still embarrassingly slept with every night.
“Do you have sunscreen?” Betty asked that next day as Marceline prepared to leave. She nodded, and Betty quizzed her on a few other things. “Your sun hat? The food me and Simon cooked? Red objects? Clean clothes?” she asked, even though she knew she was being slightly over bearing. Marceline nodded repeatedly and finally Betty let out a sigh of relief, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Go out there and show the world what you’re made of,” she said, and Marceline smiled at her words.
“Stay safe, and if anyone gives you trouble, tell them your parents have weapons and aren’t afraid to use them,” Simon said giving her hair a ruffle, and Marceline leaned into it, knowing it might be the last time she got to experience it in a long while. “And remember, you can always come back home, okay?” Simon offered, and Marceline gave him a serious nod, knowing she could always return to where she’d come from if she needed to. It was a safety net she was glad to have, even if she was leaving the nest.
“You two better not stay in the house missing me, okay? When I come back I expect some awesome adventure stories; and maybe a sibling,” Marceline said, playfully elbowing both of them in the sides, embracing them after they finished blushing embarrassed. “I love you both,” Marceline said once she finished her hug, and she flew up into the night sky, highlighted by the moon behind her. She gave her parents one last wave, and then she was off. And with that, the culmination of the last decade or so of Betty and Simon’s life, was gone.