Chapter Text
It’s been a few hours since Taco’s breakdown, sure, her ego is scarred, but she’s less upset now. She’s sitting in the main lobby/living space of the hotel, sipping tea and reading a book. The Goldfinch. She hears footsteps behind her and turns around to see Pickle.
“Oh.” He says. “Didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“I live here?” Taco says bluntly. Pickle rolls his eyes.
“Well, you shouldn’t. Honestly, Taco, we don’t forgive you.”
“I know that! I don’t think you should, but-”
“Get out, then.” Pickle says, cutting Taco off.
—o0o—
She walks through the snow. Earlier that day, Mic had told her about some therapy place that had opened in the OSC, so she decided to go. She walked into the office and spoke to the lady at the front desk, Salt.
“Hi Taco, do you have an appointment or..?”
“Oh.. Just a walk in.”
“MePad has an opening now, good for you.”
“...MePad?”
Taco goes into the room and MePad was just sitting there calmly. Like, he doesn’t remember her, obviously, but it still enraged her. Taco felt betrayed, hurt, even, but she tried to remain calm.
“Do you remember when I died? I fell apart, the only reason MePhone revived me is because you told him to.” Taco says shakily. MePad looks back at her.
“I have very faint memories from that time, very few. I do remember that though, Taco. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it. Anyway, what are you doing here? What do you need help with?”
“Uhm… Everything? I’m honestly not doing great in the head right now. I’m having nightmares every night and…. Ugh. I don’t deserve to live.” Taco says, sitting on a couch. She’s in her usual tuxedo. She likes the tuxedo.
“Elaborate on this. Why do you feel that way?” MePad asks, looking concerned for Taco. He cares for her, she cares for him. Taco would never admit it, but she considers MePad family, like a kind father or brother or something.
“I had a dream last night where all of my friends said I should die. It was terrifying. I could barely look at Microphone in the morning. I just know she’s upset about it! I ruined everything! And Pickle, oh god, he basically kicked me out of the hotel today! Is what I did really that bad? Well, yes, but… God, I hate myself for how dumb I was.”
MePad moves next to Taco. “You cannot blame yourself for making mistakes and horrible choices, even if those choices lead to hurting others, as long as you know you were wrong, and feel sorry for what you did—which it’s safe to assume you do—then I find no logic in feeling you don’t deserve to live.”
Taco looks at MePad. “I just don’t know how to be a better person.” She sighs.
“Well, like I said, healing is a process, you can’t expect to change immediately, just surround yourself with people who make you feel good. Microphone and Soap are good for you. Especially Microphone.”
“I can’t imagine a life where Microphone isn’t with me, I love her dearly..” Taco says, smiling slightly.
“I know you do. But don’t throw yourself into anything, just… focus on healing, for now.”