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Marceline sniffed as she stared at the polaroid of her and Simon. She didn’t know if he’d left this particular one on purpose or if it had just fallen out of their shared journal turned scrapbook during his hazy and crazed last moments with her before he’d left, but regardless she was glad to have it. Looking at the two of them together in it made her feel less cold and less lonely.
The wind momentarily picked up and Marceline shivered through it, refusing to move from the spot she’d planted herself in. She was fearful that Simon wouldn’t be able to find her if she strayed too far from where he’d seen her last, and so she vowed to stay where she was for as long as possible, only leaving when the sun no longer provided her with any warmth and forced her to retreat into the small faux home she’d built to keep her warm at night and returning to where she was currently situated as soon as she woke up each morning. Any day now he’d snap back to his senses and come back to her like he always did and she needed to be ready to flag him down when that day finally arrived.
But he never physically left any of the previous times. It was just his mind that would go and he didn’t seem entirely out of it like he usually did when he made irrational decisions. He might’ve known exactly what he was doing and choose to do it anyway.
She shook her head against the thought, tears springing to her eyes.
No. Simon wouldn’t leave her for real. He loved her too much. She was his child and he her adoptive parent, and parents didn’t just abandon their children to freeze all alone in the snow.
But my mommy did, and my real dad was never around to begin with.
She shook her head again, the wind was growing colder against her damp cheeks.
Simon was different. Simon loved her more than anyone else ever did. He was going to come back and it could happen at any moment, so she needed to stay where she was, no matter how cold or hungry she got. He would come back and wrap her in his jacket and sing her that one Russian lullaby she liked so much like he always did when it was time for her to go to bed, and he’d apologized for letting that stupid crown do this to him and they’d both hold each other throw it into the ocean the first chance they got so this would never happen ever again.
Part of her wanted to believe that, but… The other was old enough to recognize that she was starting to delve into fairytale territory just a bit and that she could very possibly never see Simon ever again.
She shook her head a third time, this time more viciously than she previously had.
NO.
Simon wouldn’t do this to her, she knew that he wouldn’t — at least not willingly — and if it was that stupid crown’s fault she’d just have to find him and knock it off of his head herself just as she had every other time it drove him beyond cuckoo and made him do something selfish and stupid.
She stood, more determination flowing through her eleven year old body than she’d ever felt before.
Yes, that was exactly what she’d do. She’d stop waiting for him to come back and in the meantime would use her little makeshift shack as a base to store supplies so that she would be well prepared for her upcoming journey. No more little Marcy who needed to be protected and waited to be saved. She’d do as she promised and help Simon whether he wanted her to or not.
The first thing she did once she stepped inside her shack turned base was pin the polaroid of them together to one of her walls.