Work Text:
One
Bonnie spent three days writing ‘Thank You for your condolences’ letters on tasteful stationary and the fourth day she sat in her room and tried to mix the perfect color of gray. A true gray.
None of it really worked, and the funeral on the fifth day was more automated than cathartic. She kept snapping at herself in her head ‘feel something.’
Broken was the wrong word for it, machines broke, vases broke, furnature broke-and people weren’t any of those things.
Nonetheless, she felt like a puzzle piece in a sea of right angles and ended standing in the October chill looking at the hole in the ground long after everyone else had left. Feel something.
Bonnie went home, spent a week angrily not leaving the house and letting her hair get greasy.
On the seventh day, the movers brought her the things from her grandma’s will and she finally cried like a baby in a pile of wool blankets.
The old cabinet sat in the middle of her living room, antique knives scattered on her counters and in her room stood a full-length mirror.
It had little clawed feet and a plain metal frame with a swirl at the top, the metal was going green in the center and it smelled almost like ozone.
She gave herself one cursory look at it and then left it standing malapropos in front of her bed, it started that night.
She didn’t know why it started in the shower, she hadn’t washed in awhile, she hadn’t cried in a while. She got conditioner in her eyes and started sobbing in frustration and cursing into the open air, then wandered back to her room and threw herself on her bed.
The sobs could capsize a boat and ended up rubbing her face raw with her hands, “Goddamit.”
She’s shaking when she hears the first alarm, “Whoa.” A voice says with a hint of surprise, “You okay there?”
Bonnie’s eyes got huge and she turns quickly toward the noise, trying to remember where she stored her last swan-taser.
She looks wildly around at the door, window, and only pauses to focus on the mirror momentarily, and then does a double take. There was a tall girl in it with a wild mess of dark hair and tinted skin. Ash-gray.
Bonnie’s mouth hung open, the girl looked her up and down and then around the room, “Nice digs.”
"What-"
"Hmm," A noise, a noise from the mirror resounded and the girl looked away, "I'll back."
She was gone before she was there and Bonnie’s entire brain went bunk, as fizzy as a soda and twice as shook.
This couldn’t be normal.
Two
Alright, Bonnie concluded that the stress from the week combined with the conditioner in her eyes made her hallucinate. Which was too bad, honestly, but it did inspire her to go back to work.
No more creepy visions for her, just a lab coat and a nice distraction.
The week went by fairly quickly, her work was normal, oddly normal, the world didn’t stop with one good cry and another hole in the ground. She sort of wished it did.
It was only that Saturday that Peppermint bullied her into going out, doing something ‘good for her.’ She sighed and finally decided to go on the alleged ‘date’ that hey, maybe she’d like.
She was pretty certain she’d leave half-way through.
She agrees to go on the date much to her chagrin, to get out the house, and fight her 'funk.' She ends up deciding to get ready 15 minutes before she has to leave, picking the crumbs off her shirt and hair and finding her glasses at the last minute.
She grumbles and can’t figure out what outfit said ‘I am not a jerk, but I’m not really trying here.’ She’s looking at her sneakers or sandals when her reflection wavered.
“I liked the pink shirt better.”
Bonnie’s eyes went wide and she froze, standing up very slowly, meticulously, after a moment. Her eyes focused on the mirror and forced her face to remain blank.
A girl in a white tank top and pair of sweats was staring back at her, this time with her long track of hair tied up.
“Sup.”
Bonnie cleared her throat and nodded, “Hi.”
"How's it going?"
Bonnie studied her, "This is rather new."
Marceline gave a half-smile, “You get used to it, promise. Actually, you’re reacting pretty well.” She says lightly and ate a chip from off screen.
Bonnie leaned forward, “Well, as a reflection of my subconscious I was ready for the repressed grief to manifest in some way. Maybe not in this way.” She said reasonably.
Marceline snorted, “There it is.” She popped another chip in her mouth, “Nah. I’m 100% real, didn’t your Nana leave you a note? Anyway, your phone is ringing.”
Bonnie frowned and studied her, “I didn’t expect my subconscious to be an attractive girl, but maybe that is more fitting then I think. I’ll have to read up on it.”
She rolled her eyes, “Right.” She leaned toward the mirror, “My name is Marceline.”
Bonnie’s phone was ringing like a charged beehive and the image was fading, “Wait,” Bonnie’s mind was buzzing, “You can’t, tell me-” She was gone and Bonnie was forcing herself not to entertain the idea. This would just have to go away with time. Maybe a doctors visit.
She grabs her jacket and walks out the door anyway. She does end up walking out of her date half way through.
Three
Bonnie put a sheet over the mirror, one, because it was giving her the creeps, and two, because she had to stop thinking about it.
It was taking up a little too much brain space.
She started a journal about what she had seen despite herself: green air, small kitchen, chips (like ours)…Long legs, thin lips, nice boots.
It was a place to start. But also, she had to stop.
She manages another half a week before she jumps out of bed at 1am, wide awake and slightly vibrating, she yanked the sheet off the mirror.
She gets out a screwdriver, an EMF she got as a joke for her birthday and put her lab goggles on. 'It won't hurt to look' she tells herself
She tinkers, tests and taps on it for good part of an hour, it remains a reflection of her dark bedroom.
“Hey,” Bonnie jumps when she hears the voice an hour in.
Bonnie glances to the front of the mirror, “Hello again…" They stare at each other, "My name is Bonnie.”
She presses more powder to the back of the mirror to look if it chemically reacted, Marceline chuckled, “I know. You’re grandma talked about you.”
Bonnie furrowed her brow and kept glancing at the EMF, it’s little ticker was at least going off. “What did she say?” She finally asks, fairly curious.
“Do you really want to know?” Marceline says with a humor to her tone.
Bonnie snorts, “Pfft, she liked me. I’m not worried.”
“Do you still think I’m a figment of your head-jams?” Marceline sound far away, maybe she walking somewhere.
Bonnie took a little while to respond, “Yes. But.. I’m exploring other possibilities.” She finally admitted.
“That’s what I like to hear.” Marceline was back closer to the mirror and sounded like she was chewing something.
“Okay, tell me what you know about me.” Bonnie put a putty around the back of the mirror, seeing if it foamed or even exploded.
“You’re favorite color is pink.”
Bonnie laughed, “You got me there.”
“You love science more than people.”
“Okay, maybe.” She tries to defend.
“You dye your hair just cause, and it makes people look twice.”
Bonnie rolled her eyes, “Pretty basic."
Marceline cleared her throat, “You kissed a girl in the third grade and ran home crying because you couldn't figure it out, eventually you made her a valentine but it got creased on the edges and you threw it out. You keep stuff like that in a box under your bed.”
Bonnie was very silent after that, “What the hell.” She whispered and watched the putty remain a very pale gray color, Bonnie glanced to the front of the mirror where Marceline was reclining in a chair, “What the hell.”
“Granny had some good stories.” Marceline was finishing a sandwich. “Also, there’s a box under your bed.”
Bonnie blushed and sat crossed legged in front of her mirror, “Okay. My turn.”
Marceline raised an eyebrow, “Wait, what you know about me?”
Bonnie shook her head, “No, not that, I have a few questions.” She took out a fuzzy notebook and Marceline looked bemused.
“Shoot.”
“Why is your air green-tinted? Are you on earth?”
Marceline slumped down in her chair further, “Boring. Look, I live on your earth but me and your Nana figured it’s like, not your earth.” She looks up at the ceiling, “A different one?”
“Uh-huh,” Bonnie concentrates and writes down ‘alt-D’. “Who’s your president?” She might as well try.
Marceline shrugged, “We don’t really have one right now? The world sort of ended.”
Bonnie’s eyebrows definitely skyrocketed at that, “What?”
“Civilization, ka-blooey.” She itched her nose, “Pretty lame, but I don’t remember much of it.”
“Where are you now?” Marceline played a beat on her knees.
“My house.”
“But it’s the end of the world.” She says blankly.
Marceline gave a small smile, “We still have houses. Just, more goo mutants.”
Bonnie writes down ‘radiation?’ and then looks up again, “Do you….need help?”
Marceline shrugs, “Can I help you? No offense, but I’ve seen you wear that for the last three days.”
Bonnie’s face goes slightly warm despite herself, “I washed it.” A lie.
Marceline laughs and pushes her long hair back. Her ears were pointed.
Bonnie writes that down too. "Tell me about yourself."
They talk until it is very late, or in many ways very early.
She falls asleep against the side of her bed.
—————-
Fourth Time
Bonnie shouldn’t be talking to her alt-dimension demon which could still be a figment of her imagination, plus she has to hide in the side of the room to change. (Marceline insisted she wasn’t looking anyway, but Bonnie still felt the need)
Nevertheless, Bonnie was spending more and more time in her room, letting Peppermint send her curious emails and her coworkers asking each other if maybe she had started drugs or something? She doesn't respond.
She bought a second notebook.
Bonnie was laughing in her pajamas as Marceline did an impression of her uncle with a hangover.
“Der, der, someone turn off the flipping lights! Or I'll flip ya.”
Bonnie wiped her eyes, “I can’t believe you were there for my 13th birthday.”
Marceline taps on the glass, “Hey, the living room was where it was at.”
Bonnie frowns and sits up straight again, “Do you…want me to move you?”
Marceline shook her head, “Nah,” She grins, “When would I ever see you then?”
Bonnie leans on her palm, “Some people have better bedrooms than others. Mine is just simply harder to leave."
She laughs, but it was a little tight and controlled, “Besides…” Marceline was looking up to the ceiling, “Not to be a bummer, but…”
Bonnie leaned forward, “Go ahead.”
Marceline sighs and looks away, “Hey, you know that whole mutant thing?”
Bonnie nods and takes out her notebook while clicking her pen, “I would like to hear more about them.”
“No. Not that, they just, you know, sometimes track people down.”
Bonnie’s eyebrows skyrocket, “Are you okay?”
Marceline looks uncomfortable, “I’ll be fine, but um, full-length mirrors are sort of hard to carry.” She seems sad and Bonnie’s heart drops a little.
“Yeah…?”
Marceline looks down at her hands, “Yeah.”
A long silence stretched between them and Bonnie purses her lip, “Why this?”
“I dunno,” Marceline says quickly, “Stuff just happens and then the have like senses I think-”
“No, I mean,” She looks around quickly, “The whole thing, why us, why now, why…you.” She adjusts herself, “And me.” She cringes at her own phrasing.
“Don’t like it?”
“No.” She says in a hurry, “I just…you have to curious too.”
Marceline’s face looked open, her mouth a little ‘o’. “It’s a magic mirror.” She gives a small smile and jokes, “If you want, I’m sure you can ask me who the fairest in the land is. Pretty sure we’re sworn to tell the truth on that.”
Bonnie snorts, “Magic mirror. Ridiculous.” Her brain tries to go through the options, a rip in space in time, random phenomena.
“No, I’m serious,” Marceline says flatly, “Fairest in the land.” She squirms, “I know all about who it is.”
Bonnie’s mouth falls open, she closes it, Marceline makes eye contact with her and she blushes.
Bonnie starts scribbling, “The universe is random.” She mumbles to herself and Marceline sighs.
“Some people just show up more than others,” Marceline sounded thoughtful, “Just more connected than others, I dunno.”
Bonnie shakes her head and shuts down her book.
“Soul mates,” She taps on the mirror and snorts, “Sure." Their eyes meet and Bonnie hears her morning alarm, "I should go. But tell me if things get too dangerous.”
Marceline nods and Bonnie can’t meet her eye as she leaves.
————
Fifth Time
Bonnie spent far too long in front of the mirror, waiting, listening, a little sick in her gut and trying to figure out how to push something through.
A guidebook, a candy, anything, something.
Maybe she could get her out of there.
Marceline looked as nonchalant as always when she saw her, but Bonnie could tell she was getting ready to leave, that her hands were fidgeting liking dancing spiders and house looking more sparse.
It happened in the middle of the day on a Sunday, Bonnie was taking a nap with her tablet over her face when the yell came out.
“--Bastards!” Bonnie started awake and almost rolled all out of the way out of bed, “I swear, I’ll get the hose out.” That was Marcy.
Bonnie choked and fumbled to the mirror, pressing her hand to it earnestly.
“Marceline?!”
The girl’s gray face appeared like mist in the surface, “Hey B.” There was a dent in her brow and noises like moaning could be heard in the distance, “Looks like this is the last call.”
Bonnie’s eyes dart around, “Wait, wait, I have a machine. Theories.” They weren’t done yet, she curses herself.
Marceline’s face went tight, “I wish I could stay around to test it…” A loud moan wafts in from above Marceline, her face goes pale, “But I gotta, hum, you know.”
Bonnie presses both her hands to the surface and cringes, “Be, be safe.” She had said it.
Marceline steps toward the mirror as well, “I mean, I’ll try.” She taps her forehead to the surface, “Skill and luck and good music taste.”
“Maybe if we...” Her thoughts race, she leaned forward, “If you…push.” She knew it was impossible, feeling the cold surface and whispering to it like tossing a penny-wish down a black hole.
A moan like the inside of a swamp wails at the door, Marceline didn’t look at it, her features pinched.
“Something for luck then?” Her eyes go wide and Marceline shrugs, "I have the skill and good music taste already down."
Bonnie knew it was happening before the rest of her did, she leaned into the mirror and presses her lips to the cool surface.
She closes her eyes and tries to get as much contact as possible.
She swears on her life the next moment she feels the press of skin against skin, something against her desperate mouth: warm with a touch of breath.
The sound of wood splitting fills the air, they both jump back, “Thanks Bonbon,” She turns around, “See you sometime.”
She grins and before Bonnie can do anything she was jumping out the back window, an ax in hand and wild hair trailing after her, Bonnie gasps and reaches forward before weakly sitting down on the ground.
A glowing goo shadow passes over the floor of the cabin in the mirror. Bonnie covers the mirror with a sheet quickly. She wasn’t ready for that.
“See you again…” She sits uselessly in the middle of the bedroom floor. “See you again.”