Chapter Text
It was hard to ignore Lightbulb rummaging around her house and Taco scrounged through drawers in her desk to try and find what little paper she had left. Unfortunately her makeshift lodging was far from waterproof, unsuitable to keeping anything that could be destroyed by water for long periods of time.
It took a few minutes, but under piles of half-dried sticky notes and wax seal materials Taco managed to find some cardstock that seemed nice enough. Notebook paper had proven itself an easy victim to waterlogging so when she started mailing Pickle she'd had to find stiffer stuff.
Admittedly Taco preferred it, even without lines her handwriting was precise enough to make blank pages work as letters, plus she felt it a bit more professional overall.
It was part of her brand overall she supposed, to appeal to her more pragmatic side when interacting with others after season one. It was easier to lean into for her than more emotional matters.
She supposed that was why Mic had trouble putting trust in her, and in that way Taco guessed she couldn't blame her.
Materials in hand Taco closed the drawer, turning back around to Lightbulb, who was now fiddling with the small lamp next to her bed.
The bright object seemed completely out of it, absentmindedly turning the lamp on and off as Taco stared at her. Eventually Taco cleared her throat, and Lightbulb glanced her way in surprise.
"Sorry Tac, spaced out there for a second, so what are we doing for this message o' yours."
Taco sighed "Well for one, please don't call me that, Secondly I've got some-"
"How about T & Co.? I tested that one earlier and didn't really get a reaction but I think it works!"
"It's a four letter name, you really don't have to shorten it." Lightbulb pouted in response, but didn't push any further.
"I was hoping if I could write an apology, you could deliver it without the hotel noticing. Mic seemed to want to keep things... low key, I suppose, in terms of what went down."
"I guess I can do that, but are we really doing a letter?" Lightbulb asked, continuing before Taco could reply, "I mean, I get that it's probably easier for you because of how smart ya are and all but emotional junk can be... messy. Sometimes words on paper don't mean anything if you can't feel them," Lightbulb elaborated.
"In other words... It's not always what you say but how you say it."
"And what do you expect me to do? I'm certainly not walking in there to deliver a heartfelt apology myself, this is the closest I can get to meaning it."
"Well then you're extra wrong becauseeeeee," Lightbulb reached out to give Taco a light boop, met with a scoff from the smaller object "Feeling doesn't mean speaking, it just means openness and, forgive me for the bold assumption, you seem to struggle with that, little miss."
"I'm disgusted by your continued use of nicknames for me yet frightened by your increasingly accurate emotional reads," Taco said deadpan, "Regardless I still think my method will work just fine."
"Well then how are you writing it?"
"... I wasn't planning anything different from how I'd message Pickle, why?"
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of. Doesn't the fact that Pickle never read any of those tell you anything about them? He didn't think you meant it, based on how you presented yourself. You can't apologize for how you hurt someone and try to save face at the same time, it just does-"
Taco cut Lightbulb off, "He never read any of them?"
Her voice was quiet, uncharacteristically so. Without knowing who it came from Lightbulb would have described the voice as meek, or perhaps somber.
The ever optimistic object wasn't sure what to say in the moment, and was quite sure Taco didn't either.
"Why don't you let me see one of Pickle's letters and we can work from there."
"Ah, I suppose," Taco snapped back into her reality.
She reached next to her bed, pulling out a letter sealed with a wax stamp, and handed it to Lightbulb.
It looked identical to the ones that had shown up consistently at Hotel OJ when Lightbulb had been there. More alarmingly she had pulled the letter out of a pile of similar ones.
"If you don't mind me asking why do you have so many?"
"I was planning on continuing sending them. I just... I got distracted, it really isn't important."
"I think it is," Lightbulb assured her.
"I really do want to make it up to him, one day, but not just yet. I don't quite know what to say," Taco laughed to herself, "What can I say?"
"Well, you know what you want to say to Mic, right?"
"Yes, there's a lot I owe explanations for to her."
"Then let's see what we're working with!" Lightbulb said enthusiastically, peeling open the seal and pulling out the letter inside.
Now Lightbulb was no literature wizz, but to say Taco's writing style was ill-suited to emotional situations would be an understatement.
Taco's discomfort with the situation was palpable, and the letter almost read like an essay might, trying to justify and explain her actions like she was analyzing a character rather than acknowledging her own shortcomings.
"Okay, no," Lightbulb turned to Taco.
"What?"
"This is exactly what I meant, what you're saying is an apology but you aren't thinking enough about how what you did affected Pickle. You can apologize and explain your actions all you want but it doesn't mean anything if your genuine regret doesn't come across."
"I do regret it though!"
"I know! And I believe you, but since you can't be there to tell Mic your words have to convey that regret alone and prove you're willing to be better."
"And how is that any different than what I was doing before?" Taco replied, annoyance dripping into her tone.
"Emotions are messy and important and you treat them like something that just is, and can be controlled like any other facet of life when they're not!" Lightbulb bit back.
"This letter is so proper it feels like you just don't get that, and to some degree I really think you don't," Lightbulb held up the letter "Was this easy to write?"
"Well, yes I suppose."
"Then you're doing it wrong," Lightbulb pushed the letter back into Taco's hands.
"It's going to be hard to write, I promise you. You need to acknowledge your own faults before even beginning to make up to Mic, or Pickle for that matter, beyond just the actions themselves."
"So you mean-"
"I mean how you struggle with this sort of thing, with emotions, with understanding how your actions hurt others."
Lightbulb stopped speaking, waiting for Taco's response as she stared down at the blank letter now in her hands.
"I think I can do that."
"I know you can."
Lightbulb and Taco spent the remainder of the day writing the letter. Lightbulb was right in it being difficult, in fact Taco had thrown out so many bad letters that Lightbulb had built a mini origami kingdom one the floor of the home from the rejects.
By the time the sun was beginning to set Taco set down her pen. The letter wasn't perfect, but Taco felt secure about it. In a way it felt better then when she had written letters before for Pickle, as though she was more comfortable with avoiding emotional topics she had to hand it to Lightbulb that she was right about how the letter would come across.
Taco tried to never let herself appear weak, or out of her comfort zone, so she struggled with doing so in her writing as well.
Maybe that was for the best. An uncomfortable and anxious letter for an uncomfortable and anxious situation. It was poetic in a way.
Lightbulb read it over before allowing Taco to seal it, heating up some wax to drip onto the envelope before pushing a stamp into it, engraved with a simple lemon.
And with that Taco handed it over.
If Taco was more fond of similes she may have compared it to handing her heart over to a stranger in hopes they gave it to the person she'd wronged. But that would only be degrading to Lightbulb.
Taco figured if Mic could put her trust in her only for her to break it, Taco owed it to her to prove to her she was willing to trust her as well, were she to accept her apology.
Lightbulb put a hand on top of Taco.
"I'll tell her you cared, a lot," Lightbulb assured her, shooting her one last smile.
Taco playfully pushed her hand away.
"Thank you."
Lightbulb said nothing, only nodded, before turning to begin her journey to the hotel.
Better to not get ahead of yourself, Taco. She thought to herself, as she watched Lightbulb diligently walk out of the forest, her glow becoming brighter as the sky darkened.