The Life of Simon

This here is my first AU, I hope you all enjoy it. Later chapters will be Alternate versions of some of my earlier fanfics, and later on, some of the episodes. I'd like to credit fellow author Jen Kollic for inspiring this first chapter. Enjoy!

Two sets of quiet footsteps were the only sound in an otherwise eerily silent world. On the distant horizon, the typical combination of collapsing buildings and unkept plants could be seen, but in all other directions, there was only barren soil. Even ten years after the bomb that ended the Mushroom War was dropped, not a single blade of grass had grown within its colossal blast range. Walking towards the heart of the wasteland, was an old man with pale blue skin, a battered, black suit and long, silver hair that covered his shoulders and face. Simon Petrikov's blue glasses perched on his nose, and his magic crown hung from his belt.

Trudging five steps behind Simon, with her hands in the pockets of her raggedy jeans, was a sixteen-year-old Marceline Abadeer. Marceline's hair was tied into two long pigtails, which hung down to her knees, and a pair of black sunglasses offered her eyes the only possible protection from the rising sun. In her mid-teens, Marceline was within an inch of Simon's height, although when she had last asked him to measure them both, she had accused him of standing on his tiptoes.

"Simon… how much further is it?" Marceline complained.

She had agreed to go on this little expedition with Simon, but she hadn't counted on it taking them so long. Simon had even warned her that it could even take a few days, and assured her that they didn't have to go if she didn't want to, but Marceline had sensed that this was something Simon really wanted to do, for whatever reason.

Marceline was right, of course. Every day of Simon's life since the war, he had lived with worse survivor's guilt than any human being had felt before. For several years he had wished to visit the bombsite, in the vain hope of achieving some closure. It wasn't until Marceline was sixteen, and twice as fit and athletic as himself (without the crown, that is) that he had felt she was ready to go on such a journey with him.

"I don't know Marcy…" Simon said, truthfully.

Simon didn't say anything else, and Marceline tactfully guessed that he didn't want to think about the bomb's blast range. Of course, Marceline could never hope to grasp how bad the Mushroom War had been, but Simon's reactions to when she mentioned it gave her a decent idea.

Simon held a working Geiger Counter in his hand, scanning ahead for radiation. He had no idea what kind of bomb had brought about the end of days. While the explosion did resemble the mushroom cloud of an atomic bomb, there was no weapon Simon had ever heard of that produced those sinister ghoul-like faces from its rising smoke. Simon remembered with a shudder, the last sight he saw before his crown, without even being on his head, covered him in a thick layer of ice with the strength of diamonds. Despite the sinister nature of the bomb, radiation was, of course, still a very real threat. Not to him, thanks to his magic crown, but to Marceline. Apart from the fangs in the corners of her upper jaw and her pointed ears, Simon had never had any reason, in his nine years of knowing her, to believe she was any different from an ordinary, human girl. She grew, she got sick, when she got hurt she healed at a normal rate. Simon was prepared to drop his chance of closure at a moment's notice if he got so much as a click from the antique device in his hands, but from the look of things, he didn't need to worry.

Eventually, Simon stopped, and Marceline almost bumped into him. Just visible, about a mile ahead of them, was a small hill where Simon guessed the bomb had hit. Squinting ahead, Simon noticed a dull, green glow emanating from somewhere behind the hill. A glance at the Geiger Counter confirmed that there was still no radiation, but Simon felt a strong sense of foreboding all the same. He spun around, staring in all directions to make sure the surrounding area was as bare as ever. When he was confident it was, he turned to Marceline and rested his hands reassuringly on her shoulders.

"Marcy, I want you to stay here for a little bit, ok?"

Marceline frowned, she didn't like the sound of that. "If you think it's dangerous, then don't go!" She reasoned, angrily.

"I'm sure it's not! But I just need to be sure."

Marceline stared at Simon accusingly. She hated it when Simon tried to protect her by lying to her. Thankfully, he didn't do it as often as he did when she was a little girl.

"In that case, leave the crown here." Marceline insisted. She didn't really want Simon to approach something potentially dangerous, without his crown, she was just trying to bring his deception to light. But to her surprise, Simon called her bluff.

"Ok!" He said quickly. And with that, Simon pulled the crown off his belt, rested it on the dusty ground, and began walking towards the bombsite.

Marceline stared after him anxiously, and a vision of Simon being cornered by a legion of green, toxic slime monsters filled her head.

"WAIT!" She shouted, before Simon had taken three steps. Reluctantly, she picked up the crown and brought it over to him.

Placing one hand on the crown, Simon kissed Marceline's forehead lovingly. "I promise I won't wear it." He said quietly.

"It doesn't mean anything when you say that…" Marceline replied, holding back a tear.

Simon stayed quiet for a few seconds, ashamed to admit to himself that Marcy was right. It was a promise he had made several times over the years.

Eventually, he said, "You've got your walky-talky?"

Marceline smiled weakly and pulled the small, plastic device from her pocket. Simon produced an identical one. They had once been cheap toys, for children, but Simon had modified them, taping big, long-lasting batteries to the back and attaching them with copper wire, and adapted the antenna to increase their range.

Holding his walky-talky to his ear, Simon started talking in an unconvincing trucker voice. "Testing. Testing. Are you there? Come in, Marceline!"

Marceline smiled reluctantly, and turned on her own. "Hi Simon."

"Now you stay here, and holler if you see anything." Simon said, still talking into the walky-talky, despite their closeness.

Turning off her walky-talky, Marceline's expression became slightly more serious. "Just be careful, ok?"

Simon stepped forwards and hugged Marceline, holding her close to his chest. "I will, sweetheart." He promised her.

With one last look at Marceline, Simon turned around and continued walking. The cold metal of the crown chilled him in more ways than one as he reattached it to his belt. He began to wonder if Marceline was right, and if he should just leave. After all, any danger that made Simon wear the crown was only a risk to Marceline in the long run. He had no idea what the so-called "Ice King" would do to Marceline if Simon was ever to slip away completely.

Simon's footsteps began to slow as he was just fifty paces from the hill, he mulled over the pros and cons of what he was doing. He turned to look at Marceline. She was sitting, cross-legged on the ground, staring the other way at the distant city. Watching Simon walk away from her had proved too daunting for the teenage half-demon.

Eventually, it was Simon's antiquarian curiosity that won him over. With a renewed vigour, brought on by an eagerness to get back to Marceline, Simon sprinted up the hill, and within seconds, discovered that the green glow wasn't coming from behind the hill, but within it.

In the very centre of the hill, was a small pool, barely a few meters in diameter, filled with gently bubbling green liquid. The liquid's consistency and colour made Simon uncomfortably reminiscent of the slime creatures that had terrorized him and Marceline for so long.

"What is it, Simon?" Marceline's muffled voice came from Simon's walky-talky.

Turning around, Simon saw Marceline, barely visible in the distance, looking at him with her walky-talky held up to her ear. Seeing Simon immobile and staring at the ground had made Marceline uneasy.

"I'm not sure Marceline… it just looks like…"

Simon stopped talking. Although at his distance, he didn't see Marceline's eyes widen in terror, he did see her take an instinctive step backwards, and her free hand rise to her mouth in shock.

"Marcy, what is it?" Simon demanded, a split-second before it occurred to him to turn around to see for himself.

But before he did, Marcy raised her walky-talky and screamed, "SIMON, RUN!"

Before Simon had time to turn or run, four things, shaped like boa constrictors but with the consistency of stone, coiled tightly around his chest and lifted him into the air. Turning around as much as he could, Simon froze with terror as he witnessed the creature that had a death grip on him continue emerging from the green pool.

It was a skeleton, one that could have once belonged to a man the size of a house, draped in a green gown that brought to Simon's mind the ceremonial attire donned for ritualistic sacrifices by followers of some of mankind's seedier religions he had studied over the years. Rotten, snow-white flesh hung from its face and draped from its bones like cloth, and pinpricks of green light shone from the black voids in its eye sockets. Atop his head, were two curved goats horns, the likes of which were iconic of the proverbial Beast from Biblical lore.

As it rose further, Simon realised the creature wasn't climbing or swimming, it was floating. The ground got further away as the skeletal atrocity floated higher, lifting them into the air. Turning around, Simon's heart was clutched by dread as he saw Marceline sprinting fearlessly towards them.

"MARCELINE! NO!" He screamed.

As Marceline neared, the monster made a hoarse, repetitive wheezing sound. Cringing, Simon realised it was laughing. It raised its free arm and pointed a skeletal finger at Marceline. Fully expecting magic, Simon writhed around furiously, screaming, shaking its shoulder as much as he could and kicking its rib cage, hoping the creature would simply start eating him, convincing Marceline to give up on him and run, and buying her the time to do so.

Oblivious to Simon, the undead beast summoned a green fireball in its hand, which shot from its finger like a bullet. Despite the projectile's speed, Marceline crouched down and tipped her head, dodging it effortlessly. Marceline's speed and reflexes were another thing which gave her away as an overly-exceptional young woman.

Simon's moment of pride was evaporated when he realised the fireball had caused a pale shadow to fall over the ground, like an inkblot.

"Marceline! Behind you!" Simon cried.

Marceline turned to see skeletal hands thrusting from the dirt and clawing at the sky. The skeletons of several ordinary humans pulled themselves from the ground, all of them armed with medieval weaponry, and began to advance on Marceline.

As Simon watched helplessly, he realized the monster clutching him was barely doing anything. The strength of its grip alone told Simon that it could tear Simon and Marceline to ribbons in a matter of seconds. He turned to face the beast and noticed the folds of skin curling up at the sides of its mouth and its teeth bared in a terrible grin, as it watched the skeletons bear down on Marceline. Simon felt enraged as he realised it was playing with them, like a cat with a mouse. He felt the crown being pressed against his hip by the creature's bony fingers, but it made it impossible to retrieve it.

The closest skeleton jabbed at Marceline with a menacing spear. Even as she stepped out of the weapon's path, she made a mental note of how sloppy the skeleton's form was. With one hand, she seized the spear and jabbed the handle through its ribcage and snapping its spine in two as if it were made of plaster. It really should have kept the weapon at its side.

Taking the spear in both hands Marceline, quite literally, swept two more advancing skeletons' feet out from underneath them, then, with the grace of a professional dancer, spun the weapon above her head, decapitating a fourth undead assailant, preparing to strike her with a sword.

Less than two minutes later, Marceline stood on the broken bones of a dozen skeletal soldiers, without even having broken a sweat. As soon as she pulled her spear out of the last one's skull, she looked up and breathed a sigh of relief to see that Simon was still unharmed. With one decisive action, Marceline brought the spear down on her knee, snapping off the pointed head.

"SIMON!" She called up to him, before throwing the jagged shard up for him to catch.

The monster looked between Marceline and Simon. The green sparks in its eyes intensifying, as if it were surprised. Without waiting for it to react, Simon caught the spearhead, spun it around and, with all his strength, drove it directly into the spot between the undead abomination's wrist and forearm. With the sickening sound of cracking bones, the giant skeletal hand broke loose, and it and Simon collapsed to the ground and rolled down the hill.

Marceline wanted to run over and make sure Simon was ok, as he struggled to his hands and knees, but he had taught he better than that, and kept one eye on the monster, still floating above its pool. Of course, if she were to truly follow Simon's instructions, she would be halfway back to the city by now, but Simon couldn't really expect Marceline to abandon him.

Suddenly, without a moment's warning. The terrifying creature shot through the air, directly at Marceline. The young demon's reflexes weren't even a factor, as the monster tore towards her, she stood, petrified, like a rabbit in the headlights. She couldn't even raise the shaft of her spear in defence.

Marceline came within an inch of her life. She could smell the monster's rancid breath when, all of a sudden, a blizzard tore across the dirt, sending the creature flying away from Marceline. The icy bombardment was accompanied by a sound that haunted Marceline's nightmares.

"AAAAAAHAHAHAHAA!" Simon roared, floating unsteadily into the air, his hair elongated and his eyes blank and white. "Buddy, you've messed with the wrong… with the wrong…"

Simon blinked several times and, with a cry of pain, pulled the crown off his head again, sending him falling back to the ground.

"Simon?" Marceline called out, running over to him. She had never seen him transform for such a short period before. Could it be that Simon was developing an immunity to the crown's affect? Marceline had strongly mixed feelings about that, but as it happened, her conclusion couldn't be further from the truth.

As the monster shook off the layer of ice it had been coated with, and began clambering towards them. Simon looked at his crown, and then he did something Marceline had never seen him do in this situation before.

Simon hesitated.

After a second, he put the crown back on, but this time, held it down with one hand while he launched another salvo of icicles with the other. Once the creature had been warded off again, Simon pulled the crown off his head and collapsed to the ground, shivering frantically. His beard and eyes didn't revert.

"Simon? What's wrong with you!?" Marceline pleaded, tearfully.

Simon had always known this day was coming, it just couldn't have come at a worse time. Of all the lies Simon told Marcy, the biggest one of all had always been, "I'm getting better." "I have more control over it now." Every time he put the crown on his head, he felt the strain as his consciousness was pulled away from him, and every time, fighting it got a little bit harder. Just now he had felt him loose himself completely. For a split second, Simon Petrikov had been no more, there had only been the Ice King. But if the Ice King were to walk in this world with Marceline, Simon swore it would be instead of this tyrannical beast, not as well as.

"M…M… Marcy?" Simon stammered.

Marceline dragged Simon to his feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Angrily, she kicked the crown as hard as she could, sending it flying well out of Simon's reach.

"Come on Simon… We're getting out of here…" Marceline said, holding back tears.

She tried to make Simon walk with her, but he resisted, and Marceline didn't have the heart to force him.

"Marceline… I need you to promise me something…" Simon whispered.

The monster struggled to its feet, but its joints were struggling with the heavy layer of frost.

"But you don't keep your promises to me!" Marceline cried.

"Well then listen up because I'm going to keep this one…" Simon coughed a haze of icy air from his lungs. "If I come back this time…"

"SIMON!" Marceline begged.

"IF I come back…" Simon repeated. "I promise we'll throw the crown in that pool up there… and we'll leave this place and… and I'll never wear it again."

Simon's eyes swam back into focus for a second and their sincerity told Marceline that he was telling the truth.

"What do you want me to promise?" Marceline asked, quietly.

"Run, Marceline. Just this once. Run, and don't look back!"

With tears running down her face, Marceline threw her arms around Simon and buried her face in his wild hair.

"I love you Simon."

"I love you too Marceline."

Keeping her eyes closed so she didn't see Simon again, Marceline spun around and started to run. Although she didn't look around, she listened hard. For the sound of icy winds? The breaking of bones? The Ice King's maniacal laughter…? But the one thing she never expected to hear was Simon's voice, calling her back.

As Marceline ran, the frost covered beast rose back into the air. Simon stood to attention and the two began to stare each other down. The scene was but a tumbleweed away from being one of the Westerns Simon and Betty used to enjoy together.

Simon made the first move. As he sprinted forwards, he relaxed his mind and stopped resisting the crown's pull. As soon as he did, the crown flew from the dirt and towards Simon's head, but he caught it in his hand as he ran. He couldn't afford to waste a millisecond of the crown's power, he doubted he had much longer than that left.

As Simon ran, the monster followed his example. It flew through the air, sending a jolt of green lightning at Simon from its fingertips as it flew. Fully prepared, Simon lifted the crown, using it as a shield to repel the terrible magic. More powerful forces had tried to destroy the crown before… or so Simon thought. Unbeknown to him, a hefty crack now ran along the crown's central gem, and its glow had begun to flicker.

When Simon and the beast were within a stone's throw of each other, Simon bent his knees and jumped with all his might. He made a fist and sent it hurling at the monster's chest, putting on the crown as he did. Simon's fist began to glow and, by the time it made contact, it was shining like a star.

Simon blacked out.