This story's been floating around in my head for a long time and in light of "Simon and Marcy" airing Monday I finally just decided to get it out there. It's set in some undefined future where the crown has been destroyed/disabled and Simon is free. Very excited to see what we really learn about these two tomorrow! :)

Marceline waited patiently in the bedroom of the former Ice King, absently scratching Gunter's head while the confused penguin sat in her lap. She hovered in the air, watching the bathroom door as if the man within would disappear if she looked away. Simon had been lost to her for nearly a thousand years, and she wasn't about to let him slip away again. While that hateful crown seemed to have been neutralized thanks to an errant spell during their recent battle with the Lich, Marceline didn't trust that one lapse in her attention wouldn't cause her to wake up and find this was all a dream.

Gunter quacked as her fingers scratched a bit too sharply. She relented, forcing herself to relax. The shower had turned off nearly half an hour ago, but he still hadn't come out. Maybe he had regressed, or without the crown he had keeled over from a heart attack or whatever being ancient and recently stripped of magic did to a human body. How long should she wait before assuming something was wrong? Maybe she should send Gunter in to scope it out…

The door of ice squeaked open. Marceline and Gunter straightened up. "Simon?" she called.

As he stepped into the room, she realized her fears had been unfounded. If anything, the man who walked out was more Simon than he had been going in. He had roughly, but thoroughly, cut his hair and beard to a more manageable length and attempted to tie his blue robe into something more conservative. He tugged at the bunching fabric as he stopped next to the bed.

Gunter quacked in surprise, hopping down from Marceline's lap.

"I know, daddy looks a little different now." He patted the penguin on the head, frowning slightly. "Daddy is very different now. You okay with that?"

Gunter nuzzled against his leg affectionately.

Simon smiled, then looked up nervously at Marceline. "I'm sorry to look so crazy. There's not much to work with in here."

She half-laughed. "Dude, this is the least crazy you've looked in ages."

He gave a bitter laugh himself. "I suppose so. Still wish I had some pants or something." He adjusted the fabric of the robe again. "A bit drafty in here now. Gunter, could you check the The Past room? I may have something left in there."

"Wenk," Gunter agreed, waddling off.

"Check for my glasses too. I wonder if I kept those."

As the penguin left, Simon rubbed his arms awkwardly, folding them against the chill. "I'll say this, though, I'll take myopia over wizard eyes any day." He noticed Marceline staring at him. "What? Did my robe fall open or—"

"No, it's cool. It's just—" she smiled slightly. "You're you."

He grinned back, shakily. "I'm me." He seemed a bit unsure about that statement, but pushed aside whatever was going through his head and focused on her. "And look at you. You've grown up so beautifully."

She blushed as he stepped closer to see her better without his glasses. "There are perks to becoming immortal when you're nineteen."

A flash of sadness crossed his face and she was about to ask why when his hand rose up hesitantly toward her. She frowned in confusion, then realized he was staring at the bite scars on her throat. She flushed again slightly, but tilted her head to the side and took his hand gently, putting it to the marks. He tried to pull back, looking embarrassed but she just gave him a bittersweet smile. "It's okay. They don't hurt anymore."

His fingers brushed the slightly-puckered skin, now cooler to the touch than his own, and he withdrew them, his face crumpling. "I'm so sorry, Marceline."

"For what?" she asked.

He shook his head in frustration and self-loathing, looking down. "I promised I would keep you safe from the monsters. I wasn't there for you and…" he trailed off, eyes flicking up to her scars again.

"Hey," she said firmly, taking his hands. "That wasn't your fault. My mom was a Vampire Queen too. It was my choice to join up with them when I found out. And it's been pretty cool, really. I mean, I've been one so long I almost don't remember what it was like before that."

His hands clenched around hers. "But you shouldn't have had to go through that. I know becoming a vampire means you have to die." He barely got the word out around the tightness in his throat. She could almost see the images his mind had to be generating of her being attacked, fangs stabbing into her throat, draining the blood from her heart. It wasn't exactly an experience she preferred to recall either. "I should have been there. If it wasn't for that stupid crown, maybe you'd still be alive."

"Or I'd have croaked a long time ago because no one was there to watch out for me as a kid," she retorted. "It's the past, Simon. Besides, you were there for me. Remember those stories you used to read to me?"

"Stories? Oh, that old book. What was it called? The Enchilada?"

"Enchiridion. Everything someone would need to know to be a hero. I may not exactly have followed everything in it 'cause that'd be boring, but it made an impression. So did the crazy old man who sang songs and took care of me and was the one good thing in the world when everything else was bad. I sure wouldn't have learned those things from my real dad."

He still looked miserable, but something in his eyes suggested he wanted to believe her.

Her feet touched down on the ground so she could meet his gaze evenly. "You couldn't have stopped all the bad things in life or protected me from all the monsters. But you did keep me from becoming one."

She could see the words reach him and his eyes welled up. A thousand years of pain and fear drained away and Marceline wrapped her old friend in her arms, holding on as tight as she could as, for the first time in centuries, he cried for reasons other than loneliness and regret.