Work Text:
Bubblegum had always expected to die in an experiment gone wrong. As much as she liked to believe that she was infallible, on a long enough time scale she was bound to be interrupted or sabotaged or something else that wasn't her fault. And, admittedly, she was working on the whole ‘god complex’ thing. She could recognize that she was capable of making mistakes. It wouldn't kill her.
It wouldn't need to, apparently, because it turned out this was the experiment that would do it. It was a little embarrassing, in all honesty, because she was hardly toying with the forces of nature at all. All she wanted to do was create a device that would fold her laundry so that PepBut could spend more time coordinating the rest of her staff (you know, like a butler should). It had worked great right up until it tried to fold the outfit she was wearing and, in the process, stretched her like a piece of taffy. Even that she could probably have recovered from, if she hadn't gummed the machine up badly enough that it exploded.
All of this was to say that she was currently watching her body from several feet away, feeling more than a little silly. Glob, she hoped Peps was the one to find her; anyone else would have the entire Kingdom in a panic before they thought to contact Finn and Jake. Peps, on the other hand, already knew the procedure for reviving her, and could be trusted to perform it successfully and with only minimal teasing. He wouldn't even ask uncomfortable questions like "what perversion of nature were you trying for this time?" He really was the ideal servant/best friend.
Though she might have to downgrade that if he didn't show up soon. It was getting kind of boring and a little existentially terrifying, this whole "looking at her own corpse" thing.
She perked up at the sight of movement in her peripheral vision, but the figure was far too tall to be Peppermint Butler. It was made of bone, dressed in pure white, with a horse's skull for a face. Bubblegum groaned. "Nope. No, this isn't real."
"Hello, Princess," said the figure who could not actually be Death no matter how much he dressed the stereotype. "I figured it was about time we had a chat."
"You're a hallucination, and I'm not going to gain anything from speaking to you." The brain sometimes responded to death by firing random neurons, producing what was colloquially known as a ‘near-death experience’. This was clearly one of those. Not even she was immune to the whims of basic biology.
The skeleton scoffed. "You're really going to throw away your shot at talking to Death himself because you're too proud to accept reality? I thought you were supposed to be a scientist."
"I am a scientist, thank you, and that's how I know you can't be Death." Bubblegum knew she shouldn't indulge this foolishness even that much, but she was frankly a little stressed at this point and could use a good round of explaining why someone was wrong. Besides, she didn't have anything better to do while she waited. "Death is a biological process that, while poorly defined, remains immediately recognizable to the living. You, on the other hand, appear to be a person. A person can't also be a natural phenomenon."
"Says the Candy Elemental."
Bubblegum scowled. "I may have some kind of link to an as-of-yet-unstudied force of nature, but candy definitely existed before me, and I've put a lot of effort into making sure it will exist once I'm gone."
"I never said we were the same." The skeleton shrugged carelessly, in a way that could have been made in a lab to infuriate her. "You may be a natural phenomenon, but that's only fulfilling a role in the cycle. I, on the other hand, have been here all along, and I'll be here 'til it's over. You want to hear about the beginning of the universe?"
"Life didn't exist back then!" Even assuming it had evolved before Ooo, the conditions for planets wouldn't be met for billions of years. Not even space lards could withstand that kind of rapid expansion.
"Your definition of death is far too limited." The skeleton shook his head. "A star can die. An idea can die. A relationship can die." He looked at her far more knowingly than a skull had any right to.
"That's just figurative language, though. It doesn't actually mean anything."
"Hey, whatever you want to tell yourself, kid. It doesn't make any difference to me."
"You say that now," Bubblegum said, "but we'll see what you think when I beat you."
The skull moved in a way that gave off the impression of a raised eyebrow despite not having eyebrows or even skin to manipulate. "Excuse me?"
"I've already raised the dead before, and I'm only getting better at it." She was sure she'd fix the zombie element the next time she got back around to the project. "It won't be long before you're obsolete. A fairy tale only told to scare children. Will you have to collect your own soul, do you think?"
The skeleton snorted. "You mortals are adorable."
"Excuse me?" Bubblegum moved the priority of her resurrection experiments up on her mental list. She would kill death with her own two hands for treating her like this.
"You can bring people back as much as you'd like. It's fun!" Death grinned. "I do it myself sometimes. Remember your plant?"
Bubblegum had recalled all of her spies, but even before that, she hadn't let any of them die, and— oh. He was talking about the literal princess plant. "...I was surprised that Finn and Jake managed to keep it alive."
"They didn't." Death shrugged. "My point is that I have all of eternity to play with you guys. If you want to run off and do your own thing for a while, it's no skin off my back."
"That's not even funny," Bubblegum muttered.
Death ignored her. "Just look at Peppermint Butler. That guy steals from me all the time, and he rules. There's nothing personal about it."
"You know Peppermint Butler?" Actually, that raised a more important question. "Where is he, anyway? He should have heard the explosion, and even if he didn't, I'd expect him to come check on me by now."
"He has," Death said casually. "But it's hard enough to get you to admit you don't know everything as it is. I figured an audience would only make it worse."
"I haven't admitted to anything," Bubblegum said. Then the rest of Death's statement hit her. "What did you do to him?"
"What? Nothing, I just said I liked him. I just moved us out of time so we could talk." Death gestured at the clock on the wall, which was, in fact, frozen. In Bubblegum's defense, it wasn't like she used it much. Her experiments were far too important to let silly things like schedules interfere. "But it seems like we're just about done here," he continued, "so I might as well send you back. Tell him he owes me one, though."
Bubblegum crossed her arms. "I don't need favors from you. I can bring myself back from the dead."
"I'm sure you can." He sounded sincere, which was worse than if he'd just been humoring her. "See you around, princess."
"I'll see you around when I defeat you for good..." Bubblegum tried to say, but her mouth was hard to move. Her head hurt, too, which was new— ah. She was back in her body. Glob, she hated when people disappeared so they'd get the last word.
She pushed herself to her feet to see Peppermint Butler perched on a stool, scribbling something in a notebook. He jumped to attention as soon as he noticed her. "Welcome back, Your Highness! Would you like some tea?"
"Yeah, tea sounds good." Bubblegum took the seat he'd vacated, resting her head on one hand. "So you're friends with Death?"
Peppermint Butler shrugged without looking up from the teapot.
"Why? I mean, he's kind of a wad, right?"
"Nah, he's chill." Peppermint Butler brought over the tea set, presenting it with a flourish. "He knows all kinds of interesting things, and if you can beat him in a competition, you can get him to tell you anything. He taught me the secret name of Grod!"
"Oh...kay." Bubblegum took a sip of her tea. It was perfect, of course. "So why does he like you, then? I mean, it sounds like you're taking advantage of him, and then there's all the..." She waved her hand vaguely. She didn't want to call it necromancy, but Peppermint Butler got all snippy when she used a different word, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with that.
He had to know what she was doing, but mercifully chose not to comment. "Like I said, he's a chill guy. He knows he's going to get me eventually, so I'm basically just borrowing from him until then."
"Hm." Bubblegum considered this line of reasoning. "No, I still don't get it. If you're so convinced he can't be beaten, why even be his friend? Isn't that asking for trouble?"
Peppermint Butler poured himself a matching cup of tea. "He's going to come for everyone, you know? I might as well make it a pleasant experience for us both."
Bubblegum must still have been suffering the effects of her temporary death, as she was struck by a terrible vision, its truth impossible to deny: Marceline's voice, gleefully commenting, "Yeah, I bet it will be pleasant for you!"
Bubblegum choked on her tea. She knew Marceline would say it, and yet she was powerless to prevent it. She could only look on in horrified fascination like the proverbial watchers of a car crash. For a brief moment, she understood how Death must feel, watching all the endings in life, unable to intervene.
Though that did raise an interesting question, actually. "Is Death alive? I mean, presumably not in the traditional sense — he has no systems to permit the transport of energy, et cetera, but he's clearly up and moving."
Peppermint Butler lit up. "An excellent question, my lady, and one with fascinating eschatological implications!"
Oh no. Bubblegum recognized this mood. Peppermint Butler could go on for hours if you let him, and all about the most unscientific of concepts. If the chanting really accomplished anything, you could get much greater effects if you standardized it, you know! And that was to say nothing of all the crystals.
But he looked so excited, and Bubblegum's brain was still a little fried from dying. She supposed she could let him talk at her for a little while.
She rested her head in her hand and settled in for the long haul.