Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Surely it couldn't have been nothing-"

The rapid clicking of Mic lowering her gain sounded like a sickening crack through her headset. Taco's heart dropped, fidgeting with her only line of communication with Mic, without having to run into a field of contestants and hosts who despised her, hoping that it was a tech issue, a malfunction.

She knew it wasn't, deep down, she had heard Mic disconnect from her before, knew that she would have no way to make her listen to what she had to say in return to her confrontation. But it didn't stop her from trying to fix her connection.

She wanted to defend herself, say how Pickle never had any issue with her actions until the finale, she didn't set out to hurt him, it was just the nature of the game. Nothing personal.

But I made it personal.

She thought, a wrench shoving its way into her chest, remembering her last conversation with Pickle, tearing down any hope in him that she cared, now or then. How the look on his face had dropped in an instant.

She could imagine that same look of dumbfounded confusion, mixed with sadness, and in her case guilt, plastered across her face. But this hurt so much more than when she lashed out a Pickle.

Taco had known that she would break away from Pickle at the end of the game. Win or lose, she had no intentions of sharing her winnings with the sad excuse for a vegetable. She had been prepared to cut the line, albeit only if she won.

And it would have been a perfect send-off indeed! No revealing her tactics, no pain caused (directly) by her, all Taco had to say was she was going to grab a gift for him, or go buy them food for a picnic with her newfound riches, then disappear into the forest.

It didn't matter what he would have thought of her after that, because she'd be so far away he'd have no hope of contacting her anyway. It was simple. It was clean. And of course nothing can ever be simple.

Taco never had a plan for what to do if she lost to make a clean getaway. She had no clue how the money would be handed over, where the finished line would be in relation to the woods, so she winged it.

Maybe it was her anger at a plan not paying off.

Okay scratch that - It was DEFINITELY anger at her plan not paying off, and in the moment the fit of rage felt right, making sure the idiot knew she never associated with him in any way past a tactic, that he never knew her, that they weren't friends.

Yet it still didn't hurt. Not in the way she did now.

Because when she dropped Pickle, even in the worst of circumstances, it was inevitable. Part of how she was playing the game.

She never actually intended to drop Mic. Not anymore.

When she was picking out a contestant to be her puppet she did, admittedly, consider how easy it would be to leave them in the dust and take the whole prize and yet... By the time they were found out by Knife she threw the idea away.

Yet at the same time, Taco realizes, she never made that clear to Mic. That she had any intention to be more honest. Sure she said she would, yet she never followed up on it.

She kept her temptations to fix the past with Pickle in the lab to herself, belittled Mic constantly. Because she had to!

Taco thought that if she had made herself more vulnerable, abandoning her facade and goals Mic would just assume she was pulling the same stunt as last season. Keeping up being what everyone thought she was, a manipulating, lying and brash cheater just came with the package.

All the plans she had presented to Mic had been altered by Mic herself, to be less direct, less violent. Somehow Taco never noted that. Never saw that as refusal rather than adaptation.

Taco gulped with that realization.

Mic did give her a chance to change, every challenge. A chance to play unfairly yet nice at the same time.

This last challenge I did the one thing she told me not to, I ruined my last chance.

It was at that point that Taco noticed how heavy she was breathing, how fast her heart was beating. She was alone now, honestly and truly.

She always had a chance to talk someone into trusting her before, to gain that. She had a chance to gain Mic's trust.

Now with Knife the only one left on the field with insight on her, she knew no one would be willing to help her, hell, even talk to her.

"I became what they thought I was."

Taco made a B-line for the elimination podium, Mic would be safe this challenge, maybe when she left she could talk to her, apologize, for everything she did.

To her. To Pickle.

Taco walked up to Mic smiling at Knife and saying goodbye.

Saying goodbye but she's-

And she walked through the portal, Taco's jaw was dropped but she couldn't tell. Her face was the epitome of guilt in the way her eyes dilated smaller and her eyebrows scrunched.

Everyone was going to leave the area soon, and see her like this.

She needed to go.

She needed to think.

Taco entered coordinates to the center of perilous forest into Mepad, and sent herself teleporting away.

She could see Hotel OJ in the distance from the tree they both landed in, Taco struggling to pull the unconscious Mepad up onto a branch.

Taco needed a third plan, but this time, it wouldn't have anything to do with the show.

Chapter Text

Mic wasn't sure what to expect as she stepped foot in Hotel OJ for the first time. She knew the show couldn't possibly be aired live, especially considering the... peculiar nature of the latest challenge.

What she did know though was that she was being followed in by a wildly angry scientist and her best friend, neither of which could have nice opinions of her after what just happened. With her being responsible for their elimination, in a way.

The moment all three of them made it through the portal, it dissipated with the same otherworldly noise it appeared with, changing the room they had all stepped into's color from a pink glow, to a comparably duller orange.

Mic didn't want to turn around to face TestTube, she had had enough defiance for one night. While Knife was right in sensing her relief, Mic doubted the feeling would last long.

"Is that what you said to Pickle."

She could still feel the words ring in her throat, deadpan delivery and all. She didn't want to leave Taco, if you had asked her at the beginning of the show Mic was sure she'd have scoffed at the idea of her ever abandoning someone already so alone.

Now she could see why no one bothered to interact with the British recluse, though it wasn't like she made it easy to get in contact anyway, lurking in the forest and all.

It was the right choice though. Taco was changing, Mic still believed that. But in order for that change to really happen she needed to be separated from the game. Something about it made Taco take actions Mic would never imagine herself doing in a million years.

But you never told her that, you could have fought back sooner maybe she would have sto-

"Microphone."

pped, maybe we could have been frie-

"Mic, yoohoo! Backstabber!"

"Ah!"

Microphone flinched back as she finally realized TestTube snapping her fingers in front of her face, trying to catch her attention.

"I have no clue how someone as spaced out as you managed to be as menacing a geebweezer as you were. You know what, NO. As menacing as you are."

"It... It wasn't what you think, I promise it will make sense later, I just need some time to rest."

"Sure, that's what they all say."

"Who else have you assumed to murder you? When has that ever come up before?"

"So you admit it." Test Tube victoriously declared.

"I said assumed, but you seem dead set in believing this, so go ahead, I guess."

Test Tube was about to throw another retort Mic's way before they all turned to see another figure enter the room. And what a room to enter into, as OJ looked absolutely dumbfounded.

"Okay I have a lot of questions." the breakfast beverage mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"First off, which of the hosts decided it was a good idea to send me contestants at 5 in the morning? You know what. Don't answer that, I know it was Mephone."

OJ let out a quick sigh before trying to up his attitude, albeit it felt incredibly forced.

"Well, anyway, welcome to Hotel OJ! Since you both got booted at the same time, you'll be sharing a room together, so if you just follo-"

"Absolutely not! If it wasn't for that Honyak I'd still be out there with Lightbulb!" Test Tube shouted, aggressively stepping towards Mic.

"Whoa now break it up!" Oj stepped between Mic and Test Tube "I don't care how much you hate each other, rules are rules. If I don't change them for Trophy complaining about the sick one, they don't change for you."

"What if she just stays with me and PB? We're all pals after all!" Fan awkwardly butted in, not wanting his friend to start a fight in the place they both had to live for who knows how long.

OJ thought for a second "Okay... If they agree to it, but after that there's no room changing, so whatever they decide, make sure they know not to complain to me if they regret it."

After discussing how Test Tube would fit in the already packed room with OJ, Fan led Test Tube away, with a few more death glares pointed Mic's way, for good measure.

Mic spaced out again as OJ gave her the tour of the hotel, the portal had dropped her off on one of the middle floors, so they started with her room and worked down from there.

They didn't pass by anyone else, though it sounded like some of the other residents might be stirring for Test Tube's outburst at her, judging by mumbling through the doors.

The tour ended at the first floor, which was a large open area, save for a few support beams and walls. Half of the floor seemed to be a hangout area, tables, chairs, beanbags, and other areas to interact with others scattered her surroundings.

The other half was a fairly large kitchen, along with an island to sit and eat at, there Mic saw the first object other than OJ in the hotel, Paper, who was making two cups of tea, OJ wished her well, and walked off to join him.

Seeing as the tour was over, Mic turned to head back to her room, before another object in the room caught her eye.

She had almost missed him, the way he was slumped down into the couch. He was a dark green vegetable, and Mic knew this had to be Pickle.

Not one to abandon a promise, Mic started walking towards the couch to pass on Knife's hello.

It was a good idea to introduce herself anyways, once the episode aired later in the day and everyone saw her quitting, there'd be questions. If Mic wanted to sort out the Taco situation by then, she'd have to talk to Pickle at some point.

Coming to the front of the couch, Mic noticed a picture of Pickle and Taco having a picnic.

How did anyone take that photo, Mic wondered. If he was being used like I was it would be under the rug, a secret.

You don't actually know what exactly Taco did in season one, she realized.

Maybe Pickle was a completely different type of pawn.

"Uh, Hey." Mic said to Pickle, who hadn't even glanced at her yet.

Pickle responded, deadpan "If you're here to ask about the photo I'm not answering any of your questions."

"What, no? Knife wanted to say hi." Mic replied, sounding a little offended.

Whatever Taco did, it couldn't have been good to make him not even want to mention it.

"Oh, uh, neat." Pickle said, his tone immediately becoming lighter "You're Mic, right?"

"Yeah!" Mic smiled, happy to see that Pickle at least seemed somewhat content here, regardless of what went down in season one.

"So why does science class hate your guts, if you don't mind me asking."

Mic blanked for a second, now probably wasn't the time to mention Taco, especially not with the person she'd tried to rob not even a room away.

"Oh, uh." She sighed "The challenge was nuts and lots of unexpected things happened and-"

She struggled for the right words for a second.

"I... Enabled someone to hurt her, and Fan, but she doesn't know so she assumes it was me. I don't have the guts to throw the other person under the bus right now."

"So... Someone else did something that made her despise you, and you feel too bad about it to out them?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, I've got time, maybe later?"

"Yeah, that would be nice." Mic smiled, she was about to ask pickle what game he was playing before something rammed into her side.

"MICCCCC!!!!"

Before she knew it, Mic was being tightly hugged by Soap, who was tearing up a little bit.

"Hey, what's wrong??" Mic asked, as she moved to hug Soap back.

"You're eliminated, that's what's wrong, you were gonna follow your heart right to victory, I could feel it!"

Mic chuckled as they stepped out of the hug "It just wasn't meant to be, I'm happy to see you again though."

"Hey, you already know Soap, cool!" Pickle said from the couch "One more to add to the gamer gang."

"The what?"

"Sit down and we'll tell you." Soap said while laughing.

And so Mic did, and it was nice, the first time she didn't have to think about the game or Taco for months. It was calming and safe.

She could talk out everything later, after the episode aired and the hotel buzz around who had been booted died down.

For now, this was good.

Chapter Text

Mic hung out with Soap and Pickle downstairs through the afternoon. She and Soap shared stories from the game, while Pickle continuously beat them at some street fighting game.

Mic wanted to ask Pickle if he had anything he wanted to share from the first season, but opted not to. If Soap wasn't encouraging him to do so, it probably wasn't the best idea.

By about two pm, Mic's tiredness was catching up to her. She passed over her controller to Soap and yawned.

"I'm gonna catch up on some sleep, Mephone set the last challenge at an ungodly time in the morning."

A half-truth, Mic doubted Mephone had any idea that the last challenge would involve abduction and spacecraft, but she was tired nonetheless.

"Alrighty, you coming down to watch the episode later?" Soap replied

Mic didn't reply, but the way she grit her teeth and slowly shook her head told Soap everything she needed to know.

"Hey, don't worry about it, most contestants don't want to see themselves get voted out. You should have seen all the fits of anger Nickel went through each time someone wanted to rewatch the episode he got out in."

"Phew, that's good to know, g'night though. Or- Is it good afternoon? Good nap?"

Soap chuckled "Go get some rest you goober."

Mic nodded and began making her way up the stairs. Almost everyone was down in the lobby or in their own rooms, though she did wave YinYang a hello. Yin reached his hand up to respond, before Yang started yelling at him to stop being so friendly.

Before an all out fight began between the two broke out, Cherries came by, and led them off. Mic made a mental note to be careful when talking to YinYang.

When Mic entered her room it looked almost exactly the same as when OJ had shown it to her before, save for a few decorations being added to the nightstand. The clock was actually plugged in, unlike before, where the electric display stood silent (no use wasting power, Mic guessed).

The other difference was a picture of the grand slams, judging from the players missing it must have been taken around episode eight.

Mic admired the picture for a moment, before setting it back on the table, and climbing into her bed. The episodes air around seven o'clock, so Mic hoped she would wake up from her nap before anyone came to her room asking questions.

Afterall, it wasn't like anyone had just quit the game before, especially considering how vague her statements were on why she was doing so. She guessed Marshmallow had also quit, but there was still no sign of the gravity defying contestant, so one could only guess.

Mic decided it was best not to dwell on it, laid down, and felt her body almost immediately give in to the first mattress she'd slept on in months.

-------------------------------------------

When she woke up, it felt like she'd gotten no rest at all, though it probably didn't help that she was being shaken awake either.

"Wh- what?"

"You QUIT?" Mic could hear Soap ask, entirely too loudly. She sat up in her bed, mumbling.

"Why!!?" Soap continued questioning.

"Calm down, I'll tell you - just shut the door, please."

Soap did as Mic asked, taking deep breaths to calm herself down as she did so. It was at that moment that Mic realized she had no idea how to tell Soap what had happened.

It was Soap, after all. Since parting with Taco she's the person Mic trusts most, they're friends. Mic was worried that if she didn't word this just perfectly, maybe they wouldn't be anymore.

She didn't even realize how heavily she was breathing until Soap brought her arm to her back to stable Mic.

"Hey, sorry I kinda freaked there, but seriously what happened?"

"I..." Mic took a deep breath in to steady herself "I'm gonna need you not to freak because I made a lot of bad decisions after you left. None of which I'm proud of."

Soap nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"During that filler episode, before all the garbage that went down in the maze, I went into perilous forest to have some alone time." Mic withheld the part about wanting to write in her diary, after Taco's breach of her privacy, she had decided that was on a need to know basis. The only person that needed to know being her.

"I met Taco." She heard Soap take a quick breath in, but continued her sentence before she could interject. "She.. Offered me help, for a fair price, and after you left I didn't really have any 'friends' in the game so when the challenge rolled around... I agreed."

Soap's expression was hard to read, it was stuck somewhere between confusion, anger, and pity. "I don't know much about Taco, Pickle has dropped me a few tidbits here and there about how she 'used to be' but besides that everyone in the hotel seems to avoid mentioning her, especially OJ. It's strange. Especially since half the time Pickle isn't even nearby."

"I knew she had cheated last season, from what Knife told me and all the horrible things Balloon said about her early on but beyond that, nothing seemed out of the ordinary."

"Sort of like Balloon and Suitcase's situation then?"

"Yeah! I knew she was bad, and she made bad choices, that much was easy to know just from interacting with her. I mean. We were actively cheating. But besides that she seemed sincere."

"I thought I'd give her a chance to change, or at the very least have a friend."

Soap smiled "That's a nice gesture, but judging by how solemn you've been this whole time I take it it didn't go well?"

"That's one way to say it I guess." Mic replied.

"I knew it wasn't going to be easy, hell, Balloon who was arguably way tamer than her had his moments of pure rudeness but every chance I gave her to make up a plan that didn't involve hurting someone she failed to ever meet that mark."

Mic's voice shifted into a annoyed tone as she listed off examples

"Change her plan to just intimidating Balloon instead of hurting him, complements me, then forgets forever."

"Steal from TestTube. Wow, neat, a plan that doesn't hurt anyone! Proceeds to ignore when two people get sucked into a literal time vortex."

"I flat ouT ASK HER NOT TO USE VIOLENCE, TESTTUBE'S DEAD THE MOMENT WE GET ON THE SHIP!"

Mic didn't realize how loud she was raising her voice until Soap helped her lay down.

"Hey, hey, it's okay."

"It's not though."

"It's not okay but that doesn't mean that it's your fault." Soap calmly replied, using a finger to swipe away the tears Mic hadn't even noticed were dripping down her face.

"So that's why Tube hates your guts huh, she didn't see her did she?"

Mhm Mic mumbled, emotions too jumbled up to form words. Sitting up to hug Soap, letting her limbs go limp and just bawling out everything that had piled up in the last few months.

Soap didn't say anything, just firmly hugged her back. All Mic remembers after that is momentary bliss, and drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Taco sat for quite a while up in the tree, looking over at hotel OJ as the sun started to come up. Wracking her head for any ideas of how to reach Mic she found herself struggling to figure out how to get a message to her without alerting the entire hotel.

She couldn't send a note, at this point most of the hotel knew her writing from the numerous letters she sent Pickle soon after season one, that and living in the forest didn't lend itself well to keeping paper clean and dry. Any physical messages would be likely to be confiscated.

That would get Mic's attention but Taco wasn't in the mood for the entire hotel knowing about this, especially since Mic had obviously gone out of her way to keep the other contestants unaware of her involvement and her eventual reason for quitting.

Taco impatiently tapped the wood of the branch she was sitting on, rolling through some more ideas, she had no clue which room was Mic's, OJ seemed to assign them at random, so she couldn't just break in.

She had theorized that maybe it was based on how annoying or popular contestants were, as the more loud and brash ones seemed to be on higher, less populated floors, but with an outsider's perspective she had no clue.

Glancing down at Mepad she wondered if the meeple product would be capable of teleporting her in, though it was risky. As evidenced by her struggle to get Mepad into the tree, his teleportation means were not precise, she could end up anywhere in the hotel.

Taco let out a long sigh, maybe she just needed to sleep on it, a good decision was never made after an alien encounter, losing your only friend and frustration as they say.

She leaned down to begin punching the coordinates of her hideout into Mepad, each input making a dull beep as she pressed it in.

The was the snap of a branch in the distance, Taco stopped immediately, holding her position, and listened.

If there was one thing living in the perilous forest had taught her, it was how to react to your surroundings. Despite the sun on the horizon it was far too early for anything big enough to snap a branch to be about, which only meant one thing.

Taco quickly punched in the last digits of the coordinates, then turned to scan her surroundings.

The tree she and Mepad were in was in the middle of a small clearing, dotted only by some bushes and a few saplings. The tree itself was one of the largest in the forest, certainly the closest large tree to the contestant grounds. A crunch of leaves echoed in the distance.

Taco slowly lowered herself to the ground, taking care to ensure Mepad was hidden in the canopy of the tree. A smaller branch snapped to her left, Taco turned towards the sound, whoever was headed towards the clearing was close.

Mepad's teleportation made a fair amount of noise when activated, Taco knew she couldn't use it now without whoever was coming knowing.

Considering the remaining contestants Taco assumed Knife was coming to confront her, a situation she was not excited for, giving the object's strength and use of violence.

She already had half of her shell cracked, thank you very much, Tacos wasn't banking on having to piece together an entire shell today.

But as the individual approached Taco noticed a faint glow on the foliage in the distance, accompanied by the mumbling of an object talking to herself.

Lightbulb, Taco thought, almost wanting to facepalm herself, she had seemed distraught at her friends being eliminated. She should have assumed she may retreat to the forest.

Taco's mind frantically scrambled for options to get out of this interaction, running out of the clearing would make a ruckus, but it was unlikely she'd be able to scramble up the tree to Mepad either.

So, in classic panic fashion, when Lightbulb entered the clearing where she often went to space out and clear her head, she was met with a Taco that looked like she'd seen a ghost staring directly at her.

"Uh, hey T and Co! What're you doin here?"

Taco's face dropped from a frightened stare, opening and closing her mouth a few times as if she couldn't find any words.

"It looks like your bean got freaked or something, are you okay, I haven't seen you in a while! Well I mean, you probably didn't want to be seen but still!"

Lightbulb began to approach her, Taco still didn't move.

"Seriously I just need someone to talk to right now, can ya give me something to work with, I'll start again!"

Lightbulb cleared her throat, then proceeded into an overdramatic restart to their conversation, which would be admirable if it wasn't so tone deaf.

"My gal, little T, girlboss, runner up and mexican brit what is up! What happened to your eye, it looks jank, we can't be having that!"

Taco mumbled her reply "I don't feel like talking about it, okay."

"Then at least let me help fix it, dummy!" Lightbulb exclaimed, playfully punching Taco in the shoulder, and beginning to move to touch the crack across her shell.

Taco swatted her hand away, clearly annoyed. Lightbulb looked disheartened at that, frowning, to which Taco realized she shouldn't let her bad mood get the best of her.

"Sorry I plan on patching it up later, I don't mean to be rude I just wasn't expecting to talk to anyone right now."

"Right now?" Lightbulb replied, before gasping "You're making new friends, that's nice! Who are they, do I know them? I bet we could have some good chat together!"

Taco was confused by the other object's enthusiasm "Why are you so interested, you have others to talk to, hell your whole team seems to like you."

"Yeah they did but they're gone now." Lightbulb remarked in an uncharacteristically dull tone "Fan and Tube left for good today, and Painty's been gone for a while."

So that's who got eliminated. In her surprise Taco had failed to note who else was walking through the portal to the hotel.

"Oh, sorry I don't think you'll find much better luck with my friend, she's not on the grounds anymore." Taco responded.

"You say that like she's dead!" Lightbulb remarked.

"Well I might be dead to her so close enough." was the deadpan response.

Lightbulb bit her lip, genuinely wanting to know who Taco had been talking to, and despite the ditz most people took her for she was fairly certain on who it might have been. Seeing as Test Tube had been hanging with her for the last few episodes, and there was only one other female contestant to leave recently...

"If I guess who it was will you tell me about what happened, I'm a super good friendship counselor, trust me!"

"No."

"Pleaseeeee."

"No."

"C'mon now that I have nothing to do if you refuse I'll just have to bother you for the next few days!"

Taco sighed "Fine, one guess."

Lightbulb did a little jump in excitement, before dramatically pointing towards her.

"Microphone."

"Damnit."

Chapter Text

Lightbulb seemed ecstatic at her correct guess, doing the nerdiest air fist bump she could muster. Her energy was starkly contrasted by Taco's annoyed grumble, now that she had agreed to Lightbulb's 'help'.

The bright light turned to her absolutely beaming, both literally and figuratively, with excitement, leaving Taco in a confused state of mind.

She had just been contemplating what she would do about Mic, and despite her apparent distaste towards lightbulb and her positivity, she couldn't deny that she was good at making friends. That and her optimism was infectious.

Taco was snapped out of her train of thought by Lightbulb.

"Sooooo we gonna find somewhere to talk about this or what? We're still a few minutes walk from the grounds, and ya seem kinda jumbled up about this," Lightbulb asked, in genuine concern.

Taco stared at her blankly for a second, not expecting her to pick up on her secrecy about Mic, though it was a pleasant surprise.

"Yeah, I've got a place deeper in the forest that I usually hang around, follow me."

"Oooooo, spooky!" Lightbulb replied, beginning to follow Taco as she walked away from the tree Mepad was still in, Taco could always just come back for him later.

As they walked it came to Taco's attention that, by some strange method of the universe, Lightbulb of all objects would be the first person to see where she had been living for the months after she ran off.

It was a strange thought, that in all her hesitation she had kept Mic from seeing where she lived, yet in the span of a few minutes she had agreed to let the biggest klutz she knew into the only place she could really consider 'home'.

Taco assumed it was just desperation, the whole night since Mic had left Taco felt like she had been in another headspace entirely, certainly the first time she'd felt pure sadness in a long time.

Put simply, she had nothing left to lose, as she pulled away the leaf covering that served as a door to her dwelling.

The space had a different tone from what it usually felt like, because of how long it had been since Taco had visited it, being wrapped up in the game, as well as the dull glow the room held, as Lightbulb turned herself on when she stepped inside.

If not for the object beside hers light, the room would be rather gloomy, somewhere in between a makeshift lodging you might make at a wilderness survival camp and a hut. The entire space was formed around a small outcropping in a stone wall, but not quite a cave. A pile of blankets more akin to a nest than a bed sat in the corner, as well as a few gadgets Taco had been fiddling with that scattered the floor.

For being outside, it was quite clean, a rug covered the dirt floor almost entirely, and a spotless writing desk was positioned next to the blankets, acting as a sort of bedside table.

After realizing they had been staring in silence for almost a minute, Taco glanced up at Lightbulb, who glanced back.

Her expression was hard to read but if Taco had to hazard a guess she'd describe it as disappointed.

"What?" The British object asked.

"It's just... you live here?" Lightbulb responded

Taco bristled a little at that, her tone becoming mildly annoyed "Yeah, what of it?"

"Nothing, it's just kinda sad."

Taco scoffed "What was I supposed to do, send out invites, it's not like anyone but me was going to have to deal with it."

"Yea but... I dunno, I feel bad! I know everyone kinda doesn't mention you anymore but that doesn't mean you should have to live like this, even Balloon snuck into the hotel sometimes to get a place to crash for the night."

"I doubt I would have been welcome."

"That doesn't change how I feel about it, you've been nothing but nice so far!"

Not looking for another moral dilemma to discuss with the contestant, Taco changed the subject "Remind me why I was bringing you here again?"

Lightbulb smiled, and sat down against the wall, sliding down to sit on the rug, patting the ground next to her "To talk bout' you and Mic."

Taco sighed, and sat next to her, realizing that she, Taco, master manipulator and liar was about to be emotionally vulnerable to Lightbulb of all objects. It felt like something she might imagine in a lucid dream, yet it was entirely real, as strange as it felt.

"I.. don't know where to start." Taco admitted, somewhat pathetically.

"Well how about where you met!" Lightbulb enthusiastically replied, resting her arm on Taco's shoulder, where for once Taco let the touch alone rather than pushing away.

"I had been scouting out objects to try and team up with since I didn't get picked for season two and... decided we had the most common ground. I met her when she went on a walk in the forest."

"D'awwwwww! I mean it's a bit weird, but still! If you were searching for a bud you always could have talked to me, no grudges here."

"It wasn't about that," Taco sighed defeatedly. "I was planning on using her, and somewhere along the way I got attached, she was actually really fun."

Taco gestured erratically "Like, at any moment I wanted to go talk to her, because just having someone to interact with was nice, and it felt like, I was actually improving, y'know?"

Lightbulb nodded "Sorta like a Balloon complex then?"

"A what?"

"Balloon! He became friends with Suitcase and went through what Fan tells me is called a 'redemption arc'" Lightbulb replied, using finger quotations for the last bit.

"I guess? But I didn't realize for a while and was pretty horrible to her like," Taco struggled for a second to find the words, thankful that Lightbulb didn't seem to be pushing her.

"She'd give me chances to act better and I wouldn't realize it until it was too late."

"I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad!" Lightbulb tried to comfort her, wrapping her arm around her, almost like a half-hug.

Taco grimaced "No it was pretty bad, I don't think you'd think too highly of me if I went over all the junk I did without realizing. Probably worse then last season."

"Shoot"

"Read through her diary to make her feel bad, tried to paralyze Balloon, didn't get help when you and Test Tube went through that portal..." Taco notably left out last episode, Lightbulb didn't need to know about what she did in the ship, Taco hadn't fully processed it herself yet.

"Umga..." Lightbulb remarked.

The response made Taco chuckle bitterly "Yeah.."

"Well for what it's worth, I think it's pretty cool that you are able to acknowledge that all that stuff was horrible, you'd be surprised how big of a step that is."

"But I should have known then!"

"That doesn't change anything now, though." Lightbulb turned to face her.

"If you want her to know that you're sorry, genuinely, and that you're going to change, you're going to have to prove it."

"And how exactly are we going to do that." Taco responded deadpan, already lost on ideas to contact Mic.

"I'll help you!" Lightbulb beamed.

"You're not allowed in the hotel either, genius!" Taco huffed.

"Allowed is subjective, technically that's only Mephone's rule, OJ has been pretty chill with visitors as long as he doesn't get in trouble. I've snuck in to see Painty, and I'm pretty sure I've seen Knife scaling the side to get to Pickle before."

Choosing to ignore why Knife would be going out of his way to see Pickle, Taco was still left confused "So what exactly are you suggesting?"

"I'll be your noble messenger!" Lightbulb declared, standing up and taking up a heroic pose.

For the first time in what felt like months Taco let herself outright laugh "Alright I still need some time to figure out what I'm going to say, but Lightbulb."

"Yeah?"

"You're alright."

Chapter Text

The day following the episode's airing was strange. It was tense and calm at the same time, in a way that Mic had trouble understanding. Her talk with Soap had curbed her immediate worries about Taco, yet the stares she'd get walking around the hotel was slowly building her unease back up.

Technically, she was the first contestant to quit, as everyone assumed Marsh simply missing, considering her and Apple's disappearance, and as such Mic assumed most of the residents couldn't understand her decision. After all who would want to give up when you were so close to the prize?

No one had confronted her about it besides Soap, at least not verbally, though OJ did pull her aside after she came down with Soap after their talk, to ask if she was okay.

He explained how he wanted to make sure she wasn't about to run off like Apple, and while his explanation of the situation came off a little cold, as he was trying to avoid legal trouble, in the moment Mic decided to just be happy that someone was looking out for her.

Afterall, he did own the place she'd be living for the remainder of the game, and quite possibly after as well, as Soap had found herself a very active member of the hotel. They parted ways and Mic made her way downstairs for breakfast.

Cheesy was apparently on meal duty, Soap explained OJ had started rotating it after he and Paper got sick of doing it all the time, to varying results.

As Mic rounded the corner into the kitchen she yawned, and without missing a beat cheesy turned around, butter knife in hand, with a beaming smile.

"Sounds like some butter woke up on the wrong side of the bread!" he proclaimed all too loud, slapping his knee.

Mic, in turn, laughed all too loud right back, punching him in the arm.

"C'mon I couldn't even make it one day without a run in with a joke that makes me wanna puke?"

"Nope! That's a fact, Trophy challenged me once, the only reason he 'won' is because OJ threatened to throw us both out for fighting."

Mic chuckled "How long did that take?"

"Give or take three days."

Both objects broke out into quiet laughter, Mic swiped a tear from her eye as she tried to stop giggling at the idea of Trophy threatening to beat up Cheesy over a challenge he started.

"Hey, I'd call that a win!"

"You feta!"

The sound of an egg cracking onto the floor was accompanied with another knee slap.

A stern talking to from OJ about wasting food and an hour or so of chatting and cooking later, all of the hotel residents had found their way downstairs.

Mic and Cheesy caught up, he seemed to have really taken making sure his jokes didn't push too many boundaries to heart. They touched briefly about her quitting but after the uncomfortable silence that followed, he assured her they didn't have to talk about it in the open if she was uncomfortable.

On top of that his cooking was pretty good! A little burnt around the edges sure, but pretty much any warm food was better than whatever Mephone scrounged up for contestants in the game.

Both of them took their food out of the hectic main floor, Cheesy leading Mic to one of the offshoot rooms on another floor that residents could hang out in.

Pickle and Soap were already there, having finished their food while Mic and cheesy stayed back to clean up the kitchen.

Cheesy set his food aside to join the others fighting game, while Mic sat down on the couch to enjoy hers as everyone made small talk.

Pickle turned to her "So how's life at the hotel treatin' ya?"

"Really good! Honestly I never imagined how good a bed would be here, although maybe that's just because I've been sleeping on grass for months."

"Pretty sure that's just Stockholm syndrome at that point."

"Pfft, I mean yeah but at this point I don't even care."

"Is that why you quit?"

Soap tensed up beside her, seemingly ready to tell off Pickle, Mic responded before she could.

"Uhhhh yes? In a different way, like I said before it's complicated, we should talk about it at some point honestly, I feel like you might get some of my dilemma better than anyone else here."

Soap nodded in agreement.

"You sure about that? All I do is lay around and help when OJ asks, I'm not exactly a great emotion counselor."

"No, no I get that, I'm not asking for a therapist or anything here I just feel like some of the stuff I went through on the show mirrors some of yours and I figured... If it's eating at both of us maybe we could talk about it."

"I mean this is the nicest way possible but that sounds incredibly ominous." Soap chimed in.

'You know what I mean!" Mic exclaimed as Soap laughed at her expense, and Pickle along with her.

"Yeah sure, we can head up to my room after Cheesy's comedy routine tonight."

"He has a what?"

"Every Friday comedic genius Cheesy performs live at hotel OJ!" Cheesy dramatically proclaimed, pulling out a piece of paper, dropping his controller in the process.

It unfolded comically onto the floor, covered heading to heading in horrible one-liners.

"I expect all of my friends to be there."

"We wake up to punaggedon if we don't." Soap mumbled.

Mic giggled "You speak from experience."

"Maybe, just trust me when I say you don't want to dip out on it."

"I'll take your word for it." Mic responded, still giggling.

The day went by smoothly, the group switching between video and board games, as well as showing Mic around the hotel fully, as OJ had apparently only skimmed the surface.

Mic had to admire how much thought seemed to be put into the hotel, there were rooms for everything, an art studio, a recording booth as well as numerous instruments, even an indoor spa. Then again she imagined with a million dollars you could find a way to fit whatever you wanted into your hotel.

By the time the sun had set all four of them had found their way to Cheesy's comedy set up. It was a decently sized room, with a stage and curtain that led Mic to believe there must be a backstage for whoever was performing as well.

The walls were lined with numerous posters, most of which seemed hand-made, among them ads for Cheesy's weekly show, a fashion contest Salt and Pepper hosted, as well as a few official movie posters that must have been purchased.

The show was fairly well attended, most of the season one contestants seemed to roll in to enjoy the fun, meanwhile it seemed Trophy showed up just to insult Cheesy's jokes, which ironically only served to make Mic laugh more as the two threw taunts back and forth.

After about two hours of groan-worthy jokes and improv games, the routine was ended and everyone filed out, with Soap going off to make sure nothing in the hotel got destroyed while she was there, leaving Mic and Pickle to help Cheesy clean up.

It didn't take too long, the only real trouble being untangling the cord for the mic stand, and before long the three were out of the room for the night.

Cheesy went off to go 'Take in the afterparty' which Mic assumed meant raiding the fridge with everyone else, while she and Pickle made their way to his room.

"So what exactly is it that we 'have in common' that you want to talk about?" Pickle inquired once they made it to his room, shutting the door behind them.

The room was almost identical to hers, except it only had one bed, the window was open letting in a slight breeze, as well as some much needed fresh air.

"Remember how I mentioned allowing someone to do some pretty horrible stuff and how I felt really confused about what to do now?"

"Yeah?"

"That was Taco."

An uncomfortable silence swept over the room, Pickle's expression was nearly unreadable, stuck between sadness and surprise.

"And... I get that it's a sensitive topic. I don't know what she did to you but I know what she did to me and I'm not sure how to grapple with it. But if you don't want to talk about it it's cool I-"

"No, no we can talk about it, I should talk about it. I've bottled up a lot about her recently and it's been doing me no good." Pickle interrupted her stammering.

"In that case, what did she do to you? Then I can tell you what happened to me and maybe we can piece together... I don't know just anything."

Pickle nodded "We were best friends in season one but at the same time it wasn't really her, assuming she didn't play up a dumb front with you."

Mic shook her head.

"She basically.." Pickled sighed in frustration trying to find the words "She basically pretended to be stupid so no one would vote for her, and used me so she would have an alliance to help her even more."

Pickle sat down on his bed as he continued to explain.

"Then at the end of the game, when she lost, did a complete one eighty and became this mastermind, saying that we were never friends and just sort of.. Disappeared."

Mic didn't reply, just solemnly sat next to Pickle.

"It's strangely so similar yet so different then how I knew her.."

"And how's that?"

"We met in the woods, she's been hiding out there I suppose, and offered to help me in the game, I accepted because.. Sigh, with Soap gone I had no friends left and I didn't know what I was doing with myself."

As Pickle didn't respond Mic continued to explain.

"And it was harmless at first! Her plans were a bit unnecessarily aggressive but I was able to work around that without really hurting anyone, and she genuinely seemed to want to get better, we grew close between challenges, or at least closer then I was with any of the actual contestants."

"Ohhh I get why the Stockholm thing didn't hit well earlier, sorry." Pickle added in, reaching out an arm for support which Mic waved away.

"Well that wasn't wrong, she made me think that I needed her, that I was only surviving the eliminations because of her. It didn't help that no one was willing to mention what she did before though, maybe then I could have believed Knife and cut ties with her earlier."

"Knife knew about this?" Pickle sounded genuinely surprised

"Since after episode twelve, though he tried not to get involved, and my belief in her being a decent person probably didn't help."

"No I just talk to him a lot I'm surprised he didn't mention it."

"I DID ask him not to so that doesn't surprise me, like em' or not he's a guy of his word."

"Hm. But you did cut ties with her?"

"Yeah, before the latest elimination, I suppose I could have kept going but at that point I was so sick of feeling like the game was requiring more of me then I could give that I left."

"Do you think that was the right decision? I mean, in a way now she might think you only proved her right."

Mic had to think for a moment.

"No. It was right because it was my decision, that alone proves I don't need her, and that I never did."

Mic swore she heard a scraping noise from outside the window, but was distracted as Pickle sat up from the bed.

"Are you alright after season one though? Seeing how no one really talks about all this," She punctuated by waking a large sweeping gesture with her arms.

"Generally yeah, the person I saw as a friend wasn't real so that's made moving on a bit easier, it's just her reasoning that still bothers me." Pickle chuckles "It should be so easy to move on but I can't help but feel like somewhere along the line something I did sparked that chain of events."

Another scraping noise.

"Oh, I get you there. At this point I'm taking a break from trying to justify everything to just remind myself that I'm not in that moment anymore, i have all the time in the world to understand my feelings about it that at this point I just want to focus on reminding myself how I should feel around the people I care about."

Pickle nodded "Hotel OJ doing that for you then?"

Mic smiled "Yeah, I think so."

A hand grasped the side of the window with a loud scrape as it grasped at the sill. Mic fell backwards off the bed with a yell, followed by a thud as she hit the floor.

Pickle ran over to the window, pulling up the object outside.

Mic heard a muffled conversation as she rubbed her head, standing to see who had just scared her half to death, looking up to see Knife now standing in the room.

The sharp object looked as surprised as she was to see the other, Mic awkwardly raising up her hand to wave hello.

Knife stared for a second before laughing at her awkwardness, walking over to her.

"You holding up?" He asked

"Yeah, better than before at least."

Pickle closed the window and walked over to join the two.

"We were just talking about Taco," The green object explained.

"Mhm. Ready to tell me where she is so I can snap her for manipulating my two friends?" Knife responded, though it was hard to tell whether it was a joke or not.

"No just sorting through junk."

"Emotional junk?"

"Well duh."

"... Mind if I give my cents? Because between both of you I'm about done with her."

"Yes but please don't go on a rampage through the forest maybe? I think beating her up would make me feel worse."

Pickle nodded in agreement.

Knife huffed "Fine, but if you ever change your mind, I'll be here."

The three laughed it off, before swaying into a more casual conversation.

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.

Chapter Text

Lightbulb trudged through the Perilous Forest diligently, letter in hand, towards Hotel OJ, and while it certainly wasn't what she had expected to be doing that night, she found some solace in the distraction it gave her from the recent events in the game.

TestTube leaving had hurt her a lot. Months ago Lightbulb would have thought she would be ecstatic at having made it to the final four, but now she just felt lonely. It especially hurt that she could see why the other contestants had felt the need to kick her off.

As much as it hurt her to admit, Lightbulb felt leaving might have been the best thing for TestTube, every day since fan left she had become more on edge, every challenge more unhinged in her plans. Lightbulb hoped she was getting along alright at Hotel OJ.

That wasn't Lightbulb's mission now however, as her warm glow illuminated the trees before her, eventually giving way to the field before Hotel OJ, her job now was to help a different lost soul.

Being a friend to all, Lightbulb made sure to be especially nice to Taco when she first bumped into her. She was partly expecting a violent outburst, and then for the other girl to disappear into the brush, but was surprised to just see Taco standing there, dumbfounded.

Maybe all those months of avoiding ever mentioning Taco, and putting her down whenever she was brought up at the Hotel had made Lightbulb stop actually wondering about who she was, or why exactly she did what she did.

In any case if Taco felt half as lost as she had in that moment, she wasn't going to leave her alone, and Lightbulb was glad she didn't.

Taco said she wanted to change, and after her time talking to her, butting heads about writing her letters, joking about absurd moments throughout the game, Lightbulb believed her. Lightbulb could see why Mic had believed her.

Lightbulb hoped Mic hadn't lost that belief.

Lightbulb was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost didn't stop herself from bumping right into Hotel OJ.

It was late, the sky was dark and rumbled with the promise of coming rain, nearly all of the lights at the Hotel were off, save for a few rooms and the neon sign proclaiming the Hotel's name on the side. OJ had been so proud when it was built he joked that he would never turn it off, and so far it hadn't been a lie.

Before Lightbulb can go to open the doors herself however, they swing open.

The two objects beyond the door frame immediately squint from how bright she is compared to the dark of the late night Hotel.

"Augh! Lightbulb can you turn it down, it's late. Also what in the world are you doing here? Everyone else is asleep," a gruff voice complained.

Lightbulb lowered her glow and stepped in, Knife had definitely been the one to answer the door, and the other object lingering behind him was Pickle, obviously drowsy.

Uh oh, the bubbly object thought, not so subtly hiding the letter she was holding behind her back.

"Heyyyyyy gang! Just popping in to see Painty like usual. Uh, how'd you know I was coming?"

"You glow like a beacon, Lightbulb, also they're asleep." Pickle replied, coming up to Knife's side.

"I'm serious! I'm just gonna go wake them up, it'll be fine, have a nice night!" Lightbulb rambled out quickly, before trying to dash past Knife.

"Oh no you don't! What do you have?" Knife grabbed Lightbulb's arm, trying to yank her around and see what she was holding.

Lightbulb immediately resisted, she made a promise to deliver a letter and it was going to happen by any means necessary. She kicked at knife prompting him to let go of her before attempting to make a dash for the stairs again.

Turning too quickly, she loses her footing and falls forward, only narrowly catching herself before shattering on the floor. She feels Knife get another hold of her arm, trying to reach for the letter.

"Knife, stop! What are you doing?" Pickle called out, going to pull Knife off of the other object, before the letter caught his eye.

The crisp white envelope, and a shiny wax seal, one he'd recognize anywhere.

That was the seal that was on the piles and piles of letters he kept under his bed, a single lemon stamped on the front, the ones he hadn't allowed himself to read.

Knife feels Pickle begin to pull him back, and releases Lightbulb, but when he looks back to see his friend blank faced he gets worried.

Knife stands up and turns to Pickle, grabbing his arms to try and steady him. Lightbulb also stands from the ground, knowing the jig is up, and anxiously spins the letter in her hands.

"Pickle? Pickle, are you okay?" Knife asked, lightly shaking the other.

"I... Yeah, how did? Where did...," Pickle stumbled over his words. Pickle glanced down, taking a deep breath to steady himself "That's one of her letters," he finally manages to say, pointing to the envelope Lightbulb was holding.

Knife looks resentfully at the letter, as if Taco herself were in the room, and the up at Lightbulb, who looks back at him with an uneasy expression.

"What, are you rummaging through the mail now? Hand it over," and then more quietly adds "I thought OJ already handed out the mail for today..."

"No, Taco hasn't sent any letters since... Gosh, since the second season started, Lightbulb, where did you get that?"

Lightbulb decided it was no use trying to make up a story, neither of the two would believe her anyways. "I'm just dropping this off for her, it's no biggie!" Lightbulb jokes, trying to lighten the room.

Knife looks positively unamused "For Mic, huh? Not happening. Where is the little devil anyway, I've been meaning to give her a piece of my mind, and the other two are too nice to let me," Knife angrily spit out.

"Um, I'd prefer you didn't beat her up, she seemed super nice! Also how did you even know this was for Mic?"

Lightbulb didn't remember Taco mentioning Knife when talking about what went down between her and Mic, but then again the entire situation had seemed like it was overwhelming the smaller object. Lightbulb decided to give her the benefit of the doubt on this one. Taco had a lot to work through right now.

"Knife, seriously stop it!" Pickle stepped in front of the sharp blade. "It was my choice not to read the letters! We both appreciate you looking out for us but this... This is Mic's choice."

Knife stepped back, muttering out a quiet apology as he did.

Pickle smiled slightly "It's all overwhelming, but we'll be there for her if she doesn't want to talk to her, and we'll be there if she does. In all honesty... I think I might be ready to start confronting her more. What she did to me, what we do now."

Knife was stoic for a moment, before eventually giving in and nodding, looking back to Lightbulb.

"She didn't threaten you?"

"Nope!"

"Manipulate you?"

"Na-da"

Knife sighed "You think she deserves what you're doing for her?"

Lightbulb nodded, a smile across her face. Knife chuckled "Fine then, I'm not going to be the judge of the nicest one here's sense of character, if you think doing this is worth it then maybe, maybe, it is."

"She's on floor six," Pickle added.

Lightbulb shot the two one more smile, waving goodbye as she started skipping towards the stairs, "Thanks you two, have a bright night!" before turning out of view.

Knife looked confused "Bright night, how does that even make sense?" he joked, elbowing Pickle, who laughed at the jab,

"It's Lightbulb, just go with it, wanna keep playing that game from earlier?"

"You bet!" Knife replied, walking back to the couch with Pickle.

As Lightbulb quietly made her way through Hotel OJ she couldn't help but think about how differently tonight had made her view Taco.

For so long everyone at the Hotel avoided ever mentioning her, it was taboo, a sort of unspoken rule for many months after the end of the first season. Eventually she was brought up again from time to time, only to be brutally put down along with Balloon as a monster and a thief.

It all seemed strange to Lightbulb at the time, after all no one was really sure of Taco's motives, now or then, so it seemed somewhat unfair to judge her so harshly, and Balloon's attempts to change had been met with refusal from OJ himself, so she decided not to comment on the matter. No one saw her as the brightest tool in the shed anyway.

But now that she had met Taco, the real Taco, everything she had thought before was validated. Taco herself didn't understand her actions, would make mistakes when she tried to do better only to be put down as cruel, and incapable to change.

Maybe ignoring her had been unhealthy for everyone, because now no one could really come to terms with what had happened.

Lightbulb knew they could though. She had saw how Pickle stared almost wistfully at the letter in her hands, how he had expressed a wish to move forward with the entire situation. She had seen Taco struggle with wanting to be better but not having the support to learn.

If Lightbulb could help even a little bit with creating a place for Taco like that she would be happy, she hoped that maybe Taco could even consider her a friend, she always was a sucker for happy endings.

Lightbulb slowed down as she made her way onto the sixth floor, reading the names on all of the doors to find who she was looking for, finally coming to a stop near the end of the hallway.

Lightbulb knocks once, nothing. She knocks again, nothing, but before she can knock again she hears a very exasperated "Coming..", and the sound of someone getting out of bed.

When Mic opened her door at three in the morning, she wasn't sure what to expect, but that didn't make seeing a beaming Lightbulb holding a sealed letter any less confusing.

"Hey, I wanted to talk to you!" Lightbulb exclaimed, and with that Mic's confusion doubled. She had nothing against the opposing team captain, but they were never very close, much less friends, as they had both stuck mostly to their own teams during the game.

But she was nice enough, and Mic was already awake so she figured she'd see this through, and gestured for Lightbulb to come in.

The bright light entered the room with her usual gusto, bounding over to jump on the unoccupied bed, as Mic was currently lacking a roommate.

"So how are you Mic?" Lightbulb excitedly asked.

"Uh, good? I'm happy you care and all that, and I don't mean to be rude but we weren't exactly.... Friends, so why are you here?"

"I've got a letter for you! Also dang, gals can't check up on other gals anymore?"

Mic was immediately wary. A letter? Who would be writing her? Her parents rarely ever contacted her, they were on good terms, but Mic had made it clear to them that she wanted to be independent, and they certainly wouldn't have Lightbulb delivering a message for them.

That would pretty much leave only contestants or...

Lightbulb watched as Mic spaced out for a moment, and when she didn't get a response prodded again.

"A little birdy in the forest wanted to talk to you, so I paid 'em a favor, here!"

The letter was shoved into Mic's hands unceremoniously.

Mic knew who it was from, and she was near certain Lightbulb did as well.

And despite all of the horrible feelings and events she'd experienced, every part of her was telling her to open the letter. She had seen how lost Pickle had been, wondering but never looking at Taco's calls to him.

Would it be a plea for sympathy, or forgiveness? Or would it be the apology Mic wanted, or rather, the apology Mic deserved.

Taco could change. She had said it before, to Soap, to herself. Yet here she was, with the very thing that would make or break that belief in her hands.

Lightbulb speaks into the quiet yet again, "She really did care about you, I think," in a tone far too soft for the normally overly energetic girl, but perfect for the moment.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And with that Mic peeled off the seal, pulling out the letter with a bated breath.

Dear Mic,

I don't know where to begin, or how to tell you how incredibly sorry I am. I've never been good with emotions, especially when it comes to how I treat others, and I recognize that now. I hurt you. I hurt Pickle.

What hurts most is that I know you put trust in me and I broke it, from the day we met in the forest to the last time I saw you on the ship. I don't know how to repay that, or how to make you trust me again and if you can't then I understand.

But if you're willing (and only if you're willing, please don't feel like you owe me anything), I'd like to try to make amends, I'd like to try and start to be better with you helping me. Because you're the nicest person I've ever met.

And I mean that, genuinely! I know so much of our relationship was tainted with me forcing you to feel like you needed me to improve, when really it was the other way around. I think that I'm at my best when we had time by ourselves, messing around in the caves, or talking in between competitions. You wanted your voice to be heard, and I have now, I want to hear it.

As I'm writing this the sheer ridiculousness of this whole situation is really setting in, that I'm asking for your help while the cheerful ditz of a team leader is giving me advice, but more than that I'm scared about how hopeful I feel because of it.

I'm scared that I'm not able to change, it's strange, and overwhelming in ways I've never experienced before.

I hope I'll see you again soon.

- Taco

Mic finished the letter, a shy smile on her face, and looked up to Lightbulb.

"So?"

"I... I think you're right, she does care."

Lightbulb shined brightly, hopping off the bed to jump up and down in excitement, waving her hands as she did, as she and Mic burst into hushed laughter, trying not to wake up the rest of the Hotel.

Once Lightbulb calmed down she started speaking again.

"I found her in the forest looking so sad after the competition and was able to prod her into talking about it, and you know what? I think she acts way tougher than she is. Tiny little dork, but I think she could be a really nice friend with a little determination."

Mic giggled "Call her a fixer-upper I guess, as much as I needed to get away for a bit, I really do miss her company."

Mic settled down next to Lightbulb and kept talking, "We used to head back into the woods between challenges, find a big tree to climb and just... Talk. I know I never knew everything about her, especially in regards to Pickle, but those were the best days, joking about what we would do with the money, or what we did before we joined the show."

"What did she do?"

"You wouldn't believe me!"

"You can't just say that and not follow up on it!" Lightbulb said while playfully shoving Mic.

"Hah! She worked as a spy agent... something for a gang I think? She was vague about it."

"Pffff okay yeah, that fits but like,,, what would she do, bite at the enemy gang's ankles?"

The two burst into laughter again, and continued sharing stories for a few minutes, sharing dumb nicknames and interactions they'd had with Taco.

"Do you think we could... go see her? I have a lot of things to ask that I feel might go better in person."

"Yeah, sure! But full disclosure I promise nothing because, ya'know, small object, big forest. Also I don't remember exactly how to get to where she was, but we'll figure it out!"

In any other situation Mic would have been concerned about the possibility of getting lost in a forest in the dead of night, but for once she decided to just trust her optimistic acquaintance, and the two left Mic's room to head back to the lobby.

They quietly crept down the stairs, not wanting to alert anyone, especially OJ to them sneaking out. Mic would feel bad if they worried about her, especially after she had specifically assured OJ she had no intention of running off.

But before they could open the door and sneak away, a head popped up from the lobby couch.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Knife asked accusingly.

Before Mic could say anything, Lightbulb butted in "Same to you two, It's almost four now, do you ever sleep?"

"You knew they were down here?!"

"Yeah, Knife started a scuffle with me on the way in."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Mic heard Pickle say, drowsily raising his head from behind the couch as well, "Oh hey Mic."

Mic waved to him quickly "We're going to-"

"To find Taco?" Knife intervened.

"Yeah, and you're not stopping me."

"Don't plan to, Pickle wanted to come with, he thought you might try and find her, and I'll be damned if you're going out there alone to confront her."

"We're not alone, there's like... three of us!" Lightbulb argued, stopping to count the number of objects around her to be sure.

"Yeah, and I don't trust you not to immediately punch her, no offense," Mic added.

"Some taken, c'mon do you really think I'm that brutish?"

"Mic, it's fine. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt her, I'd feel more comfortable if he was there... lets go before anyone figures out Mic or I are up."

The three stepped out into the field, Lightbulb turning on her light once they got some distance from the Hotel, and the four began their trek through Perilous Forest.

Chapter Text

It had been a long time since Pickle had been anywhere near the contestant grounds, in fact as he looked back he hadn't left the general area of Hotel OJ since the day she betrayed him. Coming back after so long was strange, but not in the ways he expected.

It was less like having a bitter taste left in your mouth from a bad experience and more like a creeping anxiety. The type you'd experience when you dread something you know you have to do.

Except, Pickle realized, technically this wasn't something he needed to do. Nothing was stopping him from turning tail and running back into the safety of the Hotel, with it's warm glow, and every possible direction from his problems under the sun.

Pickle shook his head and steeled himself. No, he was going through with this, he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be okay with himself letting the hole Taco left in his self esteem fester. She had taken something of him that hadn't quite ever come back.

He was unsure if all the other residents of the Hotel noticed the way his energy waned on certain days, the spiral of video game and movie marathons he threw himself into to turn away from that distress.

He knew Knife did.

It had come up one night, after they'd become friends, and he'd heaved his way up the Hotel's wall from the contestant grounds to come talk to him. At first Pickle had been worried about the sharper object's recklessness, but over time he came to respect it, appreciate it even.

He was dependable. Pickle needed dependable right now.

Just as Knife had made his way inside, he had popped the question quite bluntly.

"Dude, are you okay? You've been... weird lately, is this about her, or is there anything you need?"

Pickle had been stunned in the moment, Knife had always skirted around Taco. He comforted him when he expressed his worries regarding her, but never directly mentioned her, for his sake, he had always assumed. It was a nice gesture.

It was something Pickle had come to expect, a silent acknowledgement, but still one kept to the side, almost like a secret. He assumed everything with Taco was meant to be a secret these days.

"I, it's - well, I guess?" Came his stuttered response, "She stopped sending those letters recently and I guess it's messing with me," he explained, sitting down on his bed.

Knife followed him, gesturing for him to continue.

"Like, I guess my brain is just telling me that now that she's given up on me I truly am worthless. Which is stupid! I know that's not true, and I've been without her for months now but it just... AUGH it hurts and I hate that it does, and I hate that she can still hurt me when she probably doesn't even know she's doing it."

Knife placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and hadn't even said a word, just pulled him into a firm hug. It was what he had needed. Pickle had no clue what he needed now.

Pulled back into the present by the sound of leaves and branches crunching under the group's feet as they approached the forest, it was almost like Pickle could already feel her presence in a strange way.

He glanced Knife's way, making eye contact, he supposed he must have still looked apprehensive, as the skeptical expression knife gave him conveyed how the other still wasn't sold on trying to find Taco.

Pickle wondered how she was. Part of him, perhaps selfishly, hoped she was unhappy, that at least some of the pain she had dealt him became a double edged sword. He supposed it already had, from what bits he knew about her and Mic.

But another part of him desperately wanted her to be alright, even if it wasn't the her he had known.

It had taken months for it to truly set in that the person he'd spent his entire game teamed with, working together, reassuring each other wasn't even real. It was dull, early on sometimes he would look at the photo of them on the picnic blanket and wonder if some crazed maniac had swooped in and stolen his friend's place.

She had been far too brash when they last spoke, bitterness and contempt leaking out of her too-curt mouth. Accent all wrong.

The idea that that was the real Taco? It scared him, but somehow, a buried and muffled part of his consciousness still wanted her to be safe.

The forest loomed above the group as they slowed to a stop at it's edge, Pickle took a deep breath, no time like the present he supposed.

Mic was the first to step into the undergrowth, some familiarity with the action leaking it's way into her newfound confidence. The soft light of the moon faded away as the tree cover darkened her form, the only remaining light being that which made its way through the leaves in a muted dappled pattern, and Lightbulb's warm glow.

She turned around, breaking the silence that had fallen over them as they had made their way to this point.

"We might want to split up, she's got quite a few places her and I would hang out, and it will be hard with how dark it is."

Knife grunted in response. "Geez, you spent more time with the little traitor than I thought."

Pickle roughly elbowed him in response, Knife gave him a displeased look, but seemed to let the situation go, Mic tried to brush off the accusatory remark, and continued.

"Lightbulb and I can go into the dense forest and search there, it should be safer with some light, you and Knife can try checking the clearing along the ridge past the end of the trail."

Mic gestured to the sign that pointed into Perilous Forest, Pickle's eyes followed it and was just able to spot the carved dirt trail that winded through the foliage. It seemed that it saw little use, grass and weeds beginning to overgrow parts of it.

Knife nodded, "And if we find her?"

"We could probably just call out, we're way off the contestant grounds by now, no one comes out here, it's way too creepy," Lightbulb butted in.

Mic frowned, giving Lightbulb an unamused look.

Lightbulb backtracked, "I mean uh - most people don't come out here, they just can't appreciate the beauty!"

"When we find Taco we'll do that, this is happening. Tonight," Mic clarified, making it clear to Knife that she had no intention of returning to the Hotel without closure, and with the nod Pickle gave it seemed he didn't either.

With that their small group split, the soft yellow glow from Lightbulb fading away as she ventured into the bushes with Mic, and Pickle and Knife huddling closer as they began to make their way down the narrow trail.

---------------------------------

Mic wasn't quite sure what to expect when they found Taco. Lightbulb had rambled about bonding with her when she found her after the challenge, yet the letter had been somber, emotional, something she knew was difficult for Taco.

She supposed time would tell.

Lightbulb guided as best she could to Taco's hideout, the two objects traveling slowly as they struggled not to trip over the winding roots and twisted ivy that covered the forest's floor and draped from the branches of overgrown trees.

Despite spending so much time between challenges in the forest with Taco, Mic never quite got used to the nighttime there. Even with the soft glow from Lightbulb the shadows left by the dense vegetation stretched and loomed overhead as they fell against the gnarled bark of trees as far as you could see, until the darkness swallowed everything up.

Taco had paid it no mind. Seemed to thrive in it even, inviting her on night walks when there was no challenge to worry about the next morning, knowing every landmark in the forest like the back of her hand.

Well, except for one time, the two had wandered so far that they had met the forest's opposite edge, where the trees opened up into a valley with a small stream. Hopelessly lost, the two dropped the idea of trying to forge their way back into the forest and had simply camped on the edge of the rocks lining the river.

Mic could remember the night so vividly, Taco had droned on about some book she had been reading, but even if Mic hadn't understood she was happy just to listen, the running of the river a steady anchor, the stars overhead unobscured by any trees or the Hotel's light.

Maybe after they made up they could try to find their way back there again, Mic thought Pickle and Soap might enjoy it.

"Aha!" Lightbulb exclaimed, and when Mic squinted she could make out a small hovel on the edge of Lightbulb's glow.

The excitable object bounded forward, nearly tripping over a loose branch, before she pulled open that flayed leaves covering what could loosely be described as a doorway.

Mic could immediately tell that Taco must not be there by the way Lightbulb's shoulders fell as she walked up to join her.

"Hey, it's alright, there's plenty more forest to search," she tried to reaffirm, but she was distracted as she made her way into the space.

Taco had never brought her here, though she supposed she could see why. The sparsely decorated room seemed little more than a place to rest, save for the desk covered in writing materials Mic assumed she must have used to make her and Pickle's letters.

"Kinda depressing, huh?" Lightbulb asked.

"I'm honestly not that surprised, when we hung out we slept in the grass a lot, which I guess we had to do in the game too but, ya'know, not exactly the high life. She never showed me this place though, I wonder why."

"She mentioned not needing to come here while she was helping you."

Mic brushed some dust off the side table by Taco's pile of blankets, coughing when much more than she expected came flying off, "That checks. What else did she tell you?"

"She told me some of the stuff she did to you, like the diary thing, or how she didn't get help when me and Tube got sucked into that portal."

Mic grimaced, "Sorry about that, I genuinely had no idea how to help there."

Lightbulb patted her on the back, "It's in the past, though I do have to ask was there... Was there anything else. She seemed to trail off when explaining things to me and didn't mention a word about the crazy spaceship challenge and I guess-"

"You're worried about what could have been so bad that it made me quit," Mic quietly finished for her. Lightbulb nodded.

Even if she knew the question was coming, Mic could still feel her anxiety spike at just the thought of telling Lightbulb what they had done while up in the spaceship, to two of Lightbulb's closest friend's no less.

"You really don't have to if you don't want to," Lightbulb reassured her, placing a hand on her arm.

"No, no, you deserve to know,it's something we'll have to deal with eventually so we might as well bite the bullet."

Mic took a deep breath, and started to recount the events of just a mere two nights ago.

"Taco, sometime during the ship building, she took out Mepad and dragged him somewhere out here. She called me back and told me that she was planning to use his powers to teleport us into the ship and save Fan, and had me sabotage the ship to try and make sure I was the only one up there. She thought TestTube was a threat to my game."

Lightbulb looked apprehensive, especially when she mentioned TestTube, but continued to listen.

"Before we went up, I told her that I didn't want anyone to get hurt, as she told me she wouldn't need to promise because we were a team," Mic stopped to take a deep breath, her heart racing knowing what came next.

"When we got up there, before I could even really get my grips she aimed for TestTube and- she just - she..."

Mic didn't know she was crying until she felt Lightbulb shaking her.

"Hey, hey you're alright! Maybe we should stop, I can piece together the rest," Lightbulb told her softly.

Mic sniffled, trying to take deep breaths and wiping away her tears.

"I get if you don't want to help after that, and I am so, so, so sorry, but I still think-"

"Still think she's worth saving," Lightbulb finished for her, wiping away her lingering tears.

"Hey, I get the game can get intense, I've been shattered more times than I can count, though I'm sure Fan's still keeping track, just ya'know, make sure she knows that it was too far."

Mic dully chuckled, "Pretty sure she already does, the last thing I told her after that was that I hadn't gained any friends in the game, and then leaving."

Lightbulb grimaced, "Rough breakup?" awkwardly trying to make the conversation more lighthearted with a joke.

Mic laughed in earnest then "Yeah, I guess, come on, we've still got a brit to find," the two exiting the hovel back into the dark forest.

Mic wasn't quite sure how long they searched, but before she knew it they had checked every spot this side of the forest that she knew of.

As they came to the edge of the forest the two objects entered a clearing with a large tree, to which Lightbulb seemed surprised.

"Oh! I recognize this place, this is where I ran into Taco after the challenge!" Lightbulb remarked as she excitedly flitted around the clearing.

Mic couldn't match Lightbulb's energy, but she wandered the clearing as well, before something caught her eye.

From certain angles she could swear she saw something up in the tree as Lightbulb's light danced around the area, she tentatively approached, before heaving her way up, how she had learned through many a tree climb with Taco to inspect.

There in the tree, lodged between branches and tons of leaves was Mepad.

"Oh, Taco," Mic sighed, carefully pulling the much larger object down onto the grass, to which Lightbulb skipped over to help her.

"Well since we've had no luck finding T & Co, we might as well get Pad here back to the grounds," Lightbulb noted, Mic nodded in agreement, the two pulling him up into their arms, carefully beginning to make their way back onto the contestant grounds.

"I just hope Knife and Pickle were more successful than us," Mic lamented.

---------------------------------

Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest, Knife and Pickle trekked their way through the forest trail.

At first the two had tried to fill the silence between them with small talk. What video games they'd been playing together, how life at the Hotel was, but it all fell flat.

So much of their relationship was built on Taco, with Knife helping Pickle in the little ways he needed to push himself forward after what she had done. It was strange that now, while finally confronting that issue, that Knife seemed so gruff, it was unlike him.

Despite what others would say, there were nuances to Knife that Pickle had come to pick up on over the months Knife had been visiting him.

He was a 'jerk', sure, but he was also strong, and steady. He told things how they were, Pickle never once needed to worry about Knife lying to him, even if the truth might hurt to hear. After Taco, that was all Pickle could ask for in a friend.

Pickle wished Knife could be more with him now.

"You doing alright?" he asked Knife, who grunted in response.

Pickle stopped walking, "Okay, what is up with you, you're being super weird."

"We shouldn't be doing this and you know it," Knife responded bluntly, continuing to walk forward.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a stupid idea to try and go pull Taco back into the group, to you and Mic. She's proven she's incapable of holding anyone's trust, and I'd be much happier beating her into the forest floor," Knife gruffly explained.

"You will not. Look, I appreciate you coming out here, really, but Mic and I can handle ourselves, it's our decision to go find her, not yours."

Knife spun around, "You didn't even see how much damage she did with Mic! Stolen tech, manipulation, sabotage, she just brings out the worst in people!"

"So Mic and I are somehow tainted for having a shred of care about her, get over yourself, dude," Pickle shoved his way back in front of Knife, forging ahead on the path.

"I didn't mean- ugh, you know I didn't mean it like that, she shouldn't get a third chance."

Knife caught up with Pickle, who had stopped, the trail had ended, ahead of the two was only a dense thicket, packed in with many young trees, Pickle could see thorns poking out of the top of some of the bushes.

"Well lucky for you, you don't have to give her one, just be here for me dude."

"Fine, I will," Knife finally backs off, Pickle was happy for it, he really didn't like arguing with him.

They were silent for a time, as Knife cut his way through the foliage, Pickle lagging behind him, pulling draping vines of ivy that fell down from the branches of trees above them out of his eyes as he went. The forest seemed darker, or maybe it was just Pickle's imagination.

That was until he heard Knife grumble something out.

"What was that?" Pickle asked him.

"She's just gonna burn everyone again, like we're idiots."

That was when Pickle snapped, he reached forward, grabbing Knife's arm, and roughly spun the other object around to face him, raising his voice.

"You know what? You're right. Maybe this is all a ruse. Maybe Taco's gonna pop out of some bush and play us all for fools by stealing or something. Maybe she just wants me and Mic back to get one last laugh out of duping us."

Knife's face dropped, realizing he'd definitely touched a nerve.

"MAYBE SHE'S GOING TO BREAK ME AGAIN. I don't know, and we CAN'T know, but I'm asking you to be here because even if that's what happens I need it to happen, because I can't keep living my life wondering why she hurt me, I'll never reach that answer without her, even with your help," Pickle finally began to calm down as he finished his rant.

"I'm not asking you to be here because you understand. You don't understand. Not even Mic and I have quite the same experience with her. You'll never know just how it feels to be hurt by her directly."

Pickle then quietly added, "I'm asking you to be here because I need your support right now."

Knife looks stunned, Pickle sees him visibly try to curb his temper, letting down his tough guy person, if even for a second.

"I just don't want you to get hurt again. To go back to... how you were after it happened."

Pickle smiles, "Thank you but... I won't."

"How can you know that?"

Pickle came closer, and wrapped his arms around Knife in a hug, which the other object, albeit confused, returned.

"Because I've got people like you in my life now," Pickle said.

Knife chuckled, "You're a giant sap, you know that?"

"You love it, ya big lug."

After the two separated, they continued their way through the brush, hand in hand, until Pickle nearly tripped over a short drop, pebbles tumbling down the ridge Mic had mentioned earlier.

The area was actually quite pretty, the tree cover gave way somewhat, although a few larger trees still loomed overhead, letting the light from the moon shine through in dappled patterns. It was almost as if outside of this clearing was made of pure darkness, with how dense it was. When Knife and Pickle walked in further they noticed that they couldn't see far outside of it.

The two took to looking, before they heard a series of footsteps getting closer. Pickle made eye contact with Knife, and the two rushed to stand together, Knife taking a defensive position in front of Pickle.

The bushes on the outside of the clear rustled menacingly, until out stepped a very disheveled Taco.

Her shell was cracked badly on her right side, a long scar trailing over her eye where it seemed she had been hit by something. There were small scratches along her arms, and tears in her vegetables, seemingly from the thorns around the forest, as well as a number of leaves stuck to her.

It was everything Pickle had not imagined the stuck-up mastermind Taco to be when he finally saw her again.

And judging by the look on her face, she was equally confused by the sight of him and Knife in front of her.

Such an assumption would have been correct, as Taco froze when she entered the clearing, the moment she locked eyes with Pickle, feeling her heart rate rise, though she couldn't tell if it was from fear or some sort of excitement. So much so that she didn't even notice Knife, taking a threatening stance between them, until he broke her line of sight with Pickle.

The small object had suspected that maybe someone was out in the woods, after hearing some shouting, and (with the small bit of hope Lightbulb had instilled in her) had ventured into the forest to see if it was Mic.

What she had not expected however, was having to claw her way through what felt like an acre of bramble patches. There was a reason she didn't enjoy coming out to the trail often besides the possibility of being spotted, and this was certainly it.

Before she broke the bush line leading into one of the small clearings in the forest that she knew of, Taco had tried to carefully pull the thorns off of her, letting out a small hiss of pain as she only aggravated her already beat up shell.

But the moment she saw him any pain or input besides the scene in front of her seemed to melt away, and much as she had with Lightbulb before, Taco felt as though her entire body was frozen in a mix of shock and anxiety.

She couldn't get a read on Pickle, if he was mad, or scared, hell if he had even known she was out here, his face was just as dumbfounded as she imagined hers must have been in that moment.

Cautiously, like a cornered animal, Taco stepped forward, and tried to break the silence that hung so thick over the clearing it could have been cut with a knife.

"Oh! Hello... Pickle. It's uh, it's been a while."

The words felt wrong falling out of her mouth, she could feel the way her voice cracked, stuttering over herself. Anxiously she ran her hands over each other as she tried to continue.

"I... I missed you, a lot," she nervously added.

Pickle wasn't sure how to respond. Much like when she had revealed herself in the finale Taco seemed... off. Though it wasn't quite the same as before.

For months Pickle was expecting that if he ever ran into Taco again she'd wield the same pragmatic, sharp, witty snark that she'd used to tear him down, without even blinking an eye.

This was not that, nor was it the silly nonsensical Taco he had known. Which he was happy for! If after finally getting over the idea that his image of who Taco was being fake had been shattered by her just pretending nothing had happened he would have been upset, viscerally.

But something about the timid Taco that stood before him sat wrong as well, for reasons he couldn't quite place why.

Knife piped up, "Seems like the little zealot finally lost her moxie," he said with a grin.

Pickle frowned, and stepped in front of knife, gently pushing him to the side as he approached Taco.

Taco stood still in her spot. This was too familiar, Pickle walking up to her with a purpose, the last time she had seen him like this was just before she tore him down. He had just wanted to help, maybe console her after her loss, what in the world had she been thinking.

Much the same was running through Pickle's mind, Taco was so small, but the uncomfortable weight he had to push through to get near her made her feel like the most intimidating object he had ever seen.

It looked like she'd been put through the ringer, either by the game, or living in the woods he couldn't tell, but regardless she looked far worse for wear.

The thorns and scratches on her body were par the course for living in the woods he supposed, he and Knife had accumulated quite a few trekking through the forest as well, but the crack that abstracted her left eye was enough to make him wince.

Pickle wondered how long it had been there, as it certainly didn't look like something that would be pleasant to live with.

Awkwardly, Pickle cleared his throat and gave her a tiny wave to break the silence once again, not knowing if he'd be able to talk right now, still trying to grasp the situation. He had thought after waiting so long for this moment that he'd be ready, but yet his emotions still seemed to get the best of him in some regards.

"I wasn't expecting you but, uh..."

She trailed off for a moment, seemingly still getting over her own emotions, before chuckling quietly to herself, "I'm happy that you're... okay."

From her angle Taco sees Knife shoot her a glare, and if looks could kill she was sure she'd just have been shot dead. Thankfully she didn't have any plans of hurting Pickle, she didn't think she would ever let anyone forgive her, let alone forgive herself if she did that again.

Pickle takes a deep breath before finally responding, "Yeah, I've been," he glanced back at Knife, "I've been better."

"Good, good," Taco softly trailed off, seemingly unsure of what to say next, but Pickle was able to see a little more confidence return to her stance, he supposed she must have been just as unsure as he was. Ironic, really.

Getting to hear that voice again was oddly comforting, it was almost silky, and notably British, it was nice hearing it not yelling at him for once.

"We came out looking for you after Mic got your letter, she and Lightbulb went out looking on the other side of the forest."

Taco's face lit up, "Really?" she questioned.

Pickle nodded, a small smile slipping onto his face.

"And... I want to talk to you as well about, ya'know. Mic trusts you and I think that maybe I'm willing to get to meet you, the real you."

Taco wasn't sure what she had done to get to this point but the moment Pickle said that it didn't matter, she was getting her chance.

Just like Mic had given her, a silver platter with everythings he needed to try again was presented, and this time Taco would make sure she didn't take it for granted.

"Of course! I owe you so much explanation, and apologies, and-"

Pickle threw his hands up, "Woah there! How about we wait until we get everyone out here, huh. I'm sure Mic has a ton to ask you, too."

Taco stopped rambling and nodded, before Pickle added one last thing.

"And by the way... I missed you too," Pickle finished, smiling at her in earnest, before turning around to nod at Knife.

Knife returned the gesture, cupping his hands around his mouth before calling out for Mic and Lightbulb.

"We found her! Just past the trail!"

Pickle walked away from Taco, taking to the edge of the clearing to try and spot the other two objects coming, Knife made his way to the center, nonchalantly leaning against one of the trees.

Taco awkwardly sauntered her way over to join him, sliding down the small tree to sit on it's roots while they waited.

Time seemed to be passing painfully slowly, Taco felt like she could hear every rustle of the leaves and tap of Knife's foot on the grass like it was ringing in her ears.

"Sooooooo, how is Mic at the Hotel?" Taco asked, offering up some small talk to the other object.

Knife looked down at her and shrugged, "Well enough, she said she thought she needed the break when I asked her."

Taco could feel the venom dripping from his voice, the tone all she needed to hear to know that he wanted nothing to do with her, so Taco dropped the subject, going back to staring at the ground as she waited for Mic to arrive.

To her surprise, however, Knife took a deep sigh and continued.

"Look, I don't like you. I'm a jerk but even I can't justify how you've just up and used people as a means to an end," he turned to face Taco, pointing an accusatory finger uncomfortably close to her scar.

"I'm only here for Pickle and Mic's sake, because I have no clue how you keep gaining people's favors, but if you so much as make them the tiniest bit upset, the next part of you that's gonna be broken is your entire shell on the filthy forest floor, because as far as I'm concerned you don't deserve any of what they're giving you."

Taco looked down once more, reverting to anxiously clasping her hands together.

"I'm not sure either," she softly replied, "But I want to deserve it."

Knife grunted, "Then you've got some work to do. But it's not impossible I suppose."

Taco glanced back up at Knife, seemingly confused by the vague statement.

"Balloon somehow managed to crawl his way into being a half decent object, so who knows, maybe you can too. Given you can muster what little humility you have and use it for good."

Taco was apprehensive, "You really think that? I'd be ecstatic to just get Mic and Pickle to not hate me."

Knife shrugged once more. "Depends on if you're really willing to try this time, third time's the charm and all that bull, ya'know."

The taller object went back to watching Pickle, having said all he needed to say. He didn't trust Taco to go five steps without managing to screw something up, but he'd begrudgingly acknowledge her attempt to improve. For the other's sake.

---------------------------------

Microphone and Lightbulb tried their best to set Mepad down gently as they reached the edge of the contestant grounds. As Lightbulb propped him up, Mic went to try and figure out how to reactivate the Meeple product.

Like she had seen Taco do once, she turned him on, and was immediately met with... A loading screen, and a big one at that.

It seemed like Mepad was going to be out for a few more hours. Before Mic could try to find any way to help however, she heard a shout ring out from the forest.

"We found her! Just past the trail!" echoed Knife's deep voice.

Mic stood up to leave, before doing a double take, Mepad was still out cold, Mic turned to Lightbulb. "Do you think he'll be okay if we leave him like this? He won't be up until morning," she asked Lightbulb.

Lightbulb looked between Mepad and the forest. "Probably. I mean, he's been up in that tree for a good day at least, we can come check on him tomorrow!"

With the reassurance Mic began sprinting back to the forest. "Then C'mon!" She shouted back to Lightbulb, who dutifully followed suit.

As they made their way through Perilous Forest once more, Lightbulb took the lead, her brightness forging the way back to the trail where they had first split from Pickle and Knife.

This time stumbling through the dense woods, Mic felt more confident, ready to see Taco again. She tiptoed her way around the bramble patches past the trail, having unfortunately run in them by herself before, that was a lesson she only needed to learn once.

As they neared the clearing Mic could hear Pickle call out, "Mic, Lightbulb, this way!" and as they broke through the barrier of bushes, the two could see him waving.

In any other situation Mic would have greeted him without hesitation, but right now all she could do was let her eyes frantically search for Taco. And then she found her.

Small, pressed up against the gnarled bark of a tree, now softly illuminated by Lightbulb's glow, she looked tousled and tired, imperfect. Nothing like the object Taco had always tried to present herself as to Mic.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was the way Taco looked at her, hope and fear swirling in her eyes as Mic pulled her up off the forest floor and into a firm hug.

Taco stiffened and let out a yelp, obviously unfamiliar with such a gesture, yet she didn't struggle, just clumsily wrapped her arms around her in return.

Mic could hear Lightbulb and Pickle laughing at Taco's expense, and she could even swear she heard a quiet snicker from Knife as well.

The two held the embrace for an amount of time, though neither of them could really tell, but eventually Mic gently returned Taco to the ground, though she didn't let go of her hands.

All Taco could see as she looked at Mic in that moment was how much she'd lost, how much she missed having people like Mic and Pickle around. She never wanted to lose this feeling ever again.

She shook the thought off, this wasn't about her right now, it was about Mic, she took a deep breath and began to apologize.

"Mic I am so, so, so sorry. I genuinely didn't mean to hurt you, I care, I really do! I mean - I've only been without you for what, a day and a half and I'm falling apart at the seams.

All those chances you gave me, in the mine, and in the ship, I wasted them, and I understand if you don't want to give me anymore I understand but if there is anything I can do to try and help make this better, just name it and I will."

Taco continued to ramble on in her long-winded, distinctive tone, but beneath the message itself Mic is able to pick up the little things that tell her that Taco truly means it.

The way she talks with her hands, gesturing out to her. The slight stammer in her voice, the occasional shiver that ran its way down her body.

As Taco finished with Mic, finally releasing the tight hold she had on her hands, almost as if she hadn't even noticed the gesture with how caught up she was just seeing her again.

Taco then stepped out to Pickle, who had walked up besides Mic.

"And Pickle... All of that doubles for you, I can't justify why I treated you like I did, why I lied to you about who I was but I can at least try to explain it, if that will help give you some closure."

Pickle nodded for her to continue, so she did.

"I guess... I didn't think I would be liked as myself, by you or the voters, too proper and prissy to relate to, I suppose. I pretended to be stupid and random to get their approval, and I lied to you because I thought that if I had a friend it would also protect me from being eliminated.

It was selfish, and I didn't take any time to really appreciate your friendship. You cared for me, but I never made the effort to care for you back. I thought that since I wouldn't make it as myself I might as well do whatever it takes to be the best... which just tore its way through anyone who tried to be close to me.

I understand if you don't want to be friends, or even if you don't want to talk anymore, I'm not the person you thought I was, all I can give is my word that I do care about you, and if you wanted to try again I promise that I will never take you for granted."

Taco finished with a long sigh, clearly out of breath and more tired than before.

Mic and Pickle shared a small smile.

"Thanks, Taco, I forgive you," Mic said.

"Me too, I think... I'm ready to try again," Pickle agreed

They pulled Taco into another hug, which Mic waved Lightbulb over to join as well, Taco was practically smothered by the three of them, even before Pickle reached back to pull Knife in a swell, albeit against his will.

"Hey! None of that sappy stuff, just because you all seem to want all this gooey affection doesn't mean I have to," he said, sticking out his tongue in disgust.

The hug ended as he and Pickle pulled away, Pickle laughing in earnest.

"You big liar! You're a total sap!" Pickle teased him.

As Pickle and Knife devolved into playful arguing, Mic picked up Taco in her arms, and the group began to walk back to the trail.

The mood was lighter as they walked back, Taco was the only truly quiet one, though Mic assumed that was out of exhaustion more than anything else.

As they walked out of the forest and into the clearing between the contestant grounds and the Hotel, she snapped up in mild panic.

"Uhhhh, where are we going?" she worriedly asked.

"Hotel OJ, duh," Lightbulb piped up.

Taco began to struggle in Mic arms, the taller object struggling to keep her in her grasp, "What gives?" Mic asked, trying to make sure she didn't fall over.

"OJ will kick me out the moment he sees me, and maybe you too! I don't want you paying for what I did."

Mic frowned,"Pickle and I have forgiven you, and besides even if OJ proves to be an issue we have got to get your shell fixed, and he's the only one for miles who has supplies."

Lightbulb nodded in agreement, "Yeah T & Co, you look like you're about to fall apart, and I'm not sure if Mephone has your regeneration profile anymore!"

"Besides," Lightbulb added, "We wouldn't let anyone in there hurt you!"

Taco couldn't help but chuckle at Lightbulb's optimism, relenting, and leaning back into Mic. She was nervous, but she supposed she had nowhere else to go. She just hoped the other residents wouldn't be too mad.

As they approached the looming Hotel, Taco still didn't feel sure about entering. After being in the woods for so long the Hotel seemed like an unattainable dream, something someone like her wasn't supposed to have.

The others didn't seem to share her worry however, and Knife quietly cracked open the unlocked front door, before holding it open for the rest of the group.

Pickle and Knife wished Lightbulb Mic and her goodnight, and headed upstairs, while Lightbulb helped Mic raid one of the supply cabinets for rubbing alcohol, gauze, and some other medical supplies OJ kept around.

As they sorted through what they might need, Taco scanned the first floor of the Hotel, having never been inside it. There was leftover confetti from some festivities on the floor, and the kitchen was piled high with dishes and snacks, OJ spared no expense she supposed.

Before she could look around more, she was picked up again, and quietly snuck into Mic's room a few floors up.

Mic set her on the unused of the two beds, and began patching up her shell. Taco grit her teeth as the rubbing alcohol made its way into her scratches, grasping the blankets to try and distract herself from the pain.

"Sorry..." Mic said softly.

"No worries," Taco reassured her, as Lightbulb helped affix a gauze pad to the worst of the scar, attaching it with an abundance of bandage wraps.

When the two seemed happy with their work, Lightbulb wished them goodnight, and left to go to Paintbrush's room. Mic and Taco were finally on their own again.

Mic joined her on the bed, stretching before falling backwards with a groan. Taco chuckled. "Long night?"

"Wouldn't you know," She responded playfully shoving her before sitting back up with Taco.

"What comes now?" Taco asked.

Mic didn't respond for a moment, before walking over to her own bed and laid down.

"How about we find out in the morning?" she answered before pulling the sheet over her head and turning off the small lamp between the two beds.

"Goodnight," Mic yawned out.

Taco stared at her for a moment, before crawling up to get into her bed as well. No words could describe how good it felt to lay in after nearly a year of sleeping on damp grass.

"Night," Taco responded, before heading off to sleep as well.

Chapter Text

Hotel OJ was something that it's founder, Orange Juice was very proud of. OJ prided himself on keeping the hotel a clean, safe, fun place for all the objects that had been brought together by Inanimate Insanity.

Now it wasn't perfect by any means, if the complaints desk (and specifically the more vocal residents) had anything to say about it, but generally, OJ had everything in the hotel under his control. He knew where everyone was, and could ensure they weren't causing any shenanigans.

Sure, Fan ran out to the contestant grounds and caused whatever went down in the last episode. OJ didn't really care to watch the actual airings of II anymore, he'd had enough of reality tv for the rest of his life, so he wasn't sure exactly what he had done..

And yeah, maybe Knife scaled the wall of the building sometimes to come see Pickle, even though OJ really wished he'd just come knock on the front door, hell he even did it tonight.

Those were flukes though, and now that Fan was back where he should be, OJ could finally get some rest. Maybe he'd leave Soap and Paper in charge for a little while, the new contestant had proven herself quite capable, and OJ considered her a good friend, and Paper was always reliable.

For these reasons it would be easy to understand the confusion and mild panic OJ felt as he watched Lightbulb and Knife wandering out, away from Hotel OJ, and the contestant grounds, from the balcony on the top floor of the hotel. Now that by itself wouldn't be concerning, they were both in the game after all, what was concerning were the two other figures walking with them.

Lightbulb shined like a beacon, and her light reflected off of Knife's blade, but besides being able to tell that the two other objects accompanying them were relatively slim, and of similar heights to Knife and Lightbulb, he hadn't the faintest clue who they could be.

He couldn't choose one thing to worry about because what was in front of him was so odd, did Knife not come to see Pickle tonight? What else could he have been doing? Are those Hotel OJ residents, how did he miss them leaving?

This was it, he was losing his grip on the hotel, next thing he knows everything he built is going to come crashing down and-

OJ feels someone place a tentative hand on his shoulder, and turns to see Paper coming up to join him.

"You alright, OJ? You look like when Yin-Yang has a temper tantrum. Something on your mind?" Paper asked, offering him a cup of tea.

OJ grabbed the cup carefully, taking a sip, and looking back out over the balcony, gesturing out to where Lightbulb and whoever else was with her were, the group becoming fainter as they got farther away.

Paper looked out and took a slow sip of his own cup of tea. "Yes, and?"

OJ turned to Paper, mildly offended. "You're seriously telling me that doesn't worry you in any way? Not at all?"

"Not particularly."

"You're killing me, Paper. You're killing your boyfriend."

Paper laughed,"I kid, I kid! Yeah, it's a little weird, but whoever's out there can handle themselves. Besides, do you want to go out there to try and find out?"

"I've seen people in this hotel almost drown in the shallow end of the pool, so forgive me for being a little concerned. But I suppose you're right, we'll never catch up to them anyway. I'll have questions in the morning though."

Paper nodded, relenting. He never had the backbone to enforce the rules in the hotel, OJ had put him on complaint duty once and by the end of the day he had just wanted to collapse face first onto the ground, so he could respect OJ's commitment to his principles.

However, he did not enjoy it when the other object stayed up past midnight to do so, so he tried to pull OJ away from the balcony back into the hotel.

"C'mon OJ, let's go to bed, it's dark already."

OJ pulled back in protest, "At least let me see where they're going."

Paper walked back to join him again, watching the small group of objects fade into the distance, before disappearing into the darkness completely as Lightbulb's glow ducked behind the foliage that dotted the contestant grounds.

With the group out of sight OJ yawned, and took one last look over the landscape, as what faint stars could be seen through the light coming off the Hotel OJ sign, before turning around to follow Paper back inside.

As they entered their shared room, OJ set down his teacup, too tired to notice the chamomile tea bag Paper had slipped into it. Paper could care less, OJ needed the rest, and the two fell asleep.

OJ woke up early the next morning, with his alarm. He always tried to be punctual, and get down to the kitchen before breakfast to get it ready for whoever was cooking that day.

But today OJ had other business.

OJ wasn't a as simple as most took him for, and he was certainly far from stupid. He was sharp enough to connect the dots between the objects he'd seen out in the field last night and the hushed voices he had heard in the early hours of the morning, sneaking into his hotel.

It was rare that objects not in the game left the hotel, there really was no reason to. Personal rooms, free food, endless entertainment, when someone offers you the benefits of a million dollar prize, you tend not to turn it down.

And after Apple had disappeared OJ had been on edge about contestants leaving.

After all, Apple didn't just leave, she went missing, so you could forgive OJ for being slightly concerned.

Since then OJ had made an effort to communicate more with contestants he felt might be troubled. Even if objects like Trophy or Yin-Yang could be a lot, they were residents too, and he did his best to look out for them.

That was why OJ had asked to make sure Microphone was okay on her first night at the hotel, after hearing she had quit. He wasn't sure what would make someone so close to the prize give up, but that wasn't his business. She reassured him that all was well, and he moved on with his life.

Something strange had happened last night and OJ was going to find out before someone did something drastic, like running off into the night and not returning (again).

OJ finished up his morning routine, and began to make his way down to Pickle's room to see if Knife had returned.

OJ had known about Knife visiting Pickle for a while, he recalled, as he walked down to Pickle's room.

He had caught the sharp object scaling the building one night, and given him a stern talking to. He had considered banning him from the hotel while he was in the game, until Pickle had come running down the stairs, out of breath, to stop him.

He had explained that he had asked Knife to come visit him, and that they weren't sure if he'd allow it so they had kept it a secret.

Initially OJ was upset, and told them off for not asking him first before essentially breaking onto his property, but eventually allowed them to keep meeting, provided Knife was careful not to mark the side of the hotel.

Even if OJ would greatly prefer if Knife would just enter like a normal person, he understood that he could only really visit at night when no one was there to answer the door anyway, so he begrudgingly allowed it.

He couldn't in good faith drive Knife away when it was clear that he and Pickle had become good friends, especially after what she had done to Pickle.

OJ stopped at Pickle's door, and firmly knocked. He heard the sound of someone rolling out of bed, and footsteps, before the door swung open, revealing a very groggy Knife.

"Didn't get much sleep, huh? Usually you're out of here before I make the morning rounds."

"Yeah, well, I was tired," Knife gruffly replied, beginning to turn around before OJ grabbed his wrist and pulled him back into the doorway.

"Not so fast! Where were you last night?"

Knife feigned confusion. "Here with Pickle, where else would I be?"

OJ sighed. "I'm not stupid, Knife. I saw you leaving last night, what were you doing?"

"Uh. Taking a walk?"

"With Lightbulb. In the middle of the night?" OJ pressed him.

Knife stared forward at him, inarticulate. "Yes," he answered, in an utterly unconvincing tone.

"Knife, really, quit the charades," OJ continued, stepping into the room with Knife.

As OJ slowly became more miffed at Knife, Pickle was woken up by the commotion happening in his room.

Pickle drowsily sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes, still careful around the one that Taco had hit in season one, some days it still stung, and letting out a big yawn.

"Wus going on?" He tiredly asked.

OJ turned to him.

"Pickle! Since someone is being incredibly unhelpful," OJ shot an accusing glare towards Knife. "Would you happen to know what was going on with a group walking away from my hotel last night?"

Pickle, still out of it, actually gave OJ an answer.

"Oh yeah, we went out to the woods with Mic and Lightbulb."

At that, Knife face palmed himself, and OJ was left even more confused than he was before.

"The Forest? Why?"

Pickle felt himself waking up, and finally came to his senses.

"I mean uh, no that wasn't us. What forest?"

"You haven't left the hotel in months and the first thing you do is head out to the woods at midnight!?"

"Maybe I needed a break, I don't know!" Pickle tried to backtrack, seeing OJ was clearly growing more distressed.

Before OJ could ask more questions, he noticed something out of the ordinary on the floor of Pickle's room.

Pulled out from under his bed, partially draped over by Pickle's bedskirt, was a plastic bin full of letters. Taco's letters.

OJ was one of the few objects in the hotel that knew about Taco's attempts to contact Pickle after everything went down. He had found the first letter outside the hotel, not even placed in the mailbox, likely because Taco didn't seem to have any way of properly mailing it.

At the time he hadn't thought much of it, she was probably just trying to save face, so he had handed the letter over to Pickle.

But then they kept coming. First weekly, then as Pickle continued to ignore them, daily.

Pickle had stayed very reserved about the situation, and in general as well, a stark contrast to his goofy personality from season one.

OJ had asked him multiple times if he wanted him to stop handing over the letters, or try to make Taco stop, but Pickle had refused, assuring him that he never opened the letters, but wanted them in case he ever decided to.

OJ didn't want to pry into his resident's personal lives, they got enough of that from the show, so he let the matter be.

But now, as OJ glanced down at the bin, stacked to the brim with letters, some evidently older than others, he noticed that many of them were opened.

Of the letters were removed from their envelopes, OJ could make out the prim and pretty cursive writing on them, as well as Taco's swooping signature.

OJ looked down at the opened letters, then back up at Pickle, and began to connect the dots.

"You didn't," OJ tentatively said, less of a question and more of a statement.

It had been a popular rumor among both hotel residents and fans that Taco had been hiding out somewhere on the contestant grounds, or had made a home for herself in the nearby Perilous Forest.

OJ had been dismissive of the rumors, but the fact that Taco consistently delivered letters up until the beginning of season two was damning evidence towards her being somewhere nearby.

However, he never would have imagined Pickle seeking her out.

Pickle awkwardly wrung his hands over one another, trying to find the words to answer OJ.

"I... might have."

OJ tensed up with immediate concern, "Why? Did you find her? Did she find you? Are you okay? What happened!"

OJ found himself flitting around Pickle, trying to see if his friend was hurt in any way, until Knife pulled him away.

"It was fine. Calm down," the sharp object assured him.

"Are you sure?" OJ asked, before realizing something confusing Pickle had mentioned earlier. "Wait a minute. I get taking Lightbulb with you to see in the dark, but why was Mic with you?"

"Well she uh- IdunnomaybesortaknewTacotoo," Pickle stammered out.

OJ, more confused than ever, and getting more questions than answers from Pickle and Knife, turned around and began to march down to Microphone's room.

Knife and Pickle watched OJ leave, before realizing what was about to go down when OJ found Taco in his hotel, and shared a look of panic, before frantically following OJ down the hallway.

---------------------------------

Taco blinked her eyes open as sunlight began to filter through the crack in the curtains of Mic's window. She turned over to see Mic fast asleep.

Taco sighed and sat up, realizing the dull headache that likely woke her up. She instinctively went to rub her eyes to attempt to curb the pain, only to wince when her hand met the dressing covering her eye.

Taco removed her hand quickly, as her eye began to sting, biting her tongue to keep herself from making any noise. She didn't know when the residents of Hotel OJ began to wake up, and she wasn't keen to find out.

She pulled the covers off of herself, and quietly stepped out of her bed, making her way over to the bathroom adjacent to the main room of the suite.

Taco pulled herself up onto the counter, apparently since Mic was tall OJ hadn't left any way for a shorter object to use the amenities. She began to look over Mic and Lightbulb's handiwork in the mirror mounted above the sink.

It was admittedly better than Taco had expected, the wrappings were non-uniform and messy, and the gauze pad was at an awkward angle, but it was serviceable, keeping everything in place.

Taco absentmindedly flicked at some of the ends coming loose, and decided to fix up their work a little bit, after all, she'd probably be healing up for a while, that gem dealt her a fairly nasty blow.

Taco grabbed the extra compression wraps left in the first aid kit Mic and Lightbulb had grabbed, and cleaned up some of the rough edges. She also grabbed a towel, and turned on the water to begin to clean some of the dirt and grime from trekking through the forest off her shell.

Running water, imagine. She really had been living in the woods for a year, huh?

Being back in civilization was going to take some getting used to.

The hotel was always this foreboding presence to Taco. It loomed over the forest, and the bright lights had always driven Taco away, afraid of being spotted.

Now, being inside it's walls, especially considering she had essentially been smuggled in, she couldn't throw off her growing anxiety.

Taco tried to focus on her work, but it was useless. Her brain couldn't seem to decide if the small room was shrinking around her, or if it was leaving her painfully open and exposed.

Taco shook her head, she had to snap out of it, she had Mic and Pickle back now, everything was going to be fine. It had to be.

Taco heard shuffling out in the bedroom, and finished up her work, carefully dropping back onto the floor. Unfortunately her headache persisted.

As she entered the main room again, Taco saw Mic stretching, clearly still tired from being up late. Taco was used to waking up early, she always had things to do back in the woods, be it gathering firewood, or repairing one of her shelters, so she was less bothered.

She supposed she would be able to sleep in now if she wanted, though force of habit might make that hard.

"Morning, Mic."

"Morni-," Mic was cut off by a yawn. "Ugh, morning, Taco. I have no clue how you find a will to live this early in the morning."

Taco chuckled, "It's really not that hard once you make it routine, really," walking her way over to her bed to make it.

"Nope, I refuse, it must be sorcery," Mic refuted, crossing her arms, but was unable to keep up the act, cracking a small smile.

Taco finished up fixing her sheets, and hopped up on Mic's bed to join her.

"Soooooo now that it's morning... What's the plan?" Taco asked, looking up at Mic expectantly.

Mic opened her mouth to respond, before suddenly stopping in her tracks.

"Do you hear that?" she asked.

"Hear what?"

Mic had a better intuition towards the things she could hear after she discovered how to use her gain, and approaching down the hallway she could hear something, very, very concerning.

She could clearly make out the barks of an angry OJ, and less clearly Pickle and Knife trying to reason with him. As they got louder she could make out the subject of their argument, Taco.

Taco strained to try and hear anything, and just barely began to make out OJ's voice before Mic was frantically picking her up, and trying to hide her under the bed.

"Hey, stop it!" Taco protested, her headache worse than even with all the pressure on her shell.

"We can't let OJ see you!"

"Why? He's going to find out one way or another, might as well bite the bullet now if he's going to kick me out."

"Wow! Real optimistic aren't we?" Mic hissed back.

Before Taco could argue against her, there was a firm knock on the door to the room, causing both objects to freeze in place.

Mic shot Taco one last look, leaving her sitting on the ground behind the first bed in the room, just out of sight of the doorway, and put a finger over her mouth to tell her to keep quiet.

Mic gathered herself and tried to open the door with as much confidence as possible.

As she swung open the door, she was met with a very irritated OJ, and Pickle and Knife peeking out behind him, the former of which quietly mouthed 'sorry' to Mic.

"Heeyyyyyyyyy OJ!" Mic started, shooting the hotel owner some finger guns. "What brings you here?"

OJ, sick of dancing around the situation, cut to the chase. "Did you know Taco?"

Mic panicked for a moment, trying to come up with a lie or excuse.

She looked to Pickle, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with her, and Knife, who was frowning, and figured OJ already knew the answer to his question, so Mic said the only thing she could.

"Yes, I knew her," she dejectedly answered.

OJ seemed happy with her answer, but wasn't quite done. "Did you sneak out with these two last night into the forest?" OJ asked, pointing to Pickle and Knife.

Mic looked down, "Yes."

OJ sighed, and rubbed his eyes, "Alright, where is she?"

OJ waited a moment, looking up when no one answered. The blank stare that coated all of their faces was the only answer he needed.

"She's in the hotel, isn't she?" OJ said, surprise leaking it's way into his voice.

Pickle going out to find Taco was one thing, but the idea that she could have made her way into HIS hotel? That was something OJ couldn't fathom.

With a renewed sense of determination, OJ tried to make his way past Mic and into her room.

Mic stepped back, but boxed out to try and stop him from coming forward, trying to bargain with the other object.

"No it's- It's my fault! I let her in, please don't get mad at her or Pickle, it was my idea to try and find her in the first place!"

Pickle, not willing to let Mic take the blame on her own, pushed past OJ to join her, Knife following suit. "Mic's right, we brought her in, OJ."

Surprisingly, Knife nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't have gone out to find her, but these two trusted her, cut them some slack OJ," putting on his tough guy act to try and get OJ to calm down.

Meanwhile, Taco sat frozen behind the bed, her heart rate rising as the situation escalated, and her headache throbbing worse than ever. She couldn't let this hurt Pickle and Mic anymore.

Just as OJ was about to push past the three, Taco stepped out into the open.

Mic gave her a perplexed stare, clearly confused as to why Taco seemed to be giving up.

"You've both taken far too many hits for me already, please, stand down."

"But he could throw you out..." Mic sadly whispered.

Taco gave her a sad smile "I'll manage," she attempted to reaffirm Mic, regaining her calm accent.

OJ, surprisingly, seemed to calm down when Taco revealed herself, or perhaps he was taken aback by the amount of dressing on her wound. Taco supposed knowing where a possible intruder in your hotel is is better than going on a wild goose chase.

OJ, took a deep breath to steady himself.

"I'd like to speak to Taco alone, please," he stated to the objects huddled around the doorway.

Taco looked to Mic "Really, I'll be okay. If I can't stay we'll... We'll figure something else out," she said, trying to convince herself as well as Mic.

Mic stopped protesting, but still didn't look entirely convinced, Knife and Pickle having to guide her out of the room by the shoulder.

She and OJ watched them leave, before he closed the door behind them.

All of a sudden there Taco was again, alone, with her greatest rival no less. It certainly wasn't the reunion Taco had been expecting, provided that she never expected to see OJ again in the first place.

They had been 'friends' once, if you could call it that. Taco recalled a short-lived alliance with him during the first season. Despite all her disdain towards him for what she felt was a jipped win, Taco had to admit that he was one of the more bearable of the original cast.

However, that didn't help dissuade the tension in the room now.

After what felt like an eternity with OJ not saying a word to her, Taco decided to try and start the conversation herself.

With all the grace of a newborn bird (that being very little), Taco stumbled into an apology.

"I know they just tried to take the blame for me, but really, please don't do anything to them. I hadn't been too keen on coming here but when they suggested it I... I didn't know where else to go," she hurriedly explained, anxiously picking at her gauze.

OJ sighed "Why do they trust you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why do they trust you? I've been living with Pickle for months now, and for so long what you did haunted him. What changed that made him and Mic want to find you?"

Taco took a deep breath, looked down, and began from when she met Mic, explaining how she tried to cheat the game again, and how they ended up being friends.

"She ended up quitting because of how pressured I made her feel, and it... Hurt, really bad. It was something that I wasn't used to... missing someone like that."

Taco wasn't lying, after being alone for so long she had initially doubted she could ever truly get attached to someone, but once she had that closeness, to have it taken away? It was unimaginable.

"It was a wake-up call about how I treated others. finally getting a taste of my own medicine, I suppose."

"So... I reached out to her, Lightbulb helped, and she and Pickle decided to come looking for me. I can't tell you why they forgive me, I don't forgive me, and I imagine you don't either, the game was yours to win, regardless of factors outside the game like Bow or Mephone 5."

Taco looked back up to face OJ, "I'm trying to improve, and they seem to want to be there with me so... Here I am."

OJ looked Taco up and down, the smaller object certainly looked worse for wear, and the size of the wound all that medical supplies was covering made him wince, it was practically half of her shell. Taco braced herself for her impending ejection from the hotel.

He stepped back. "Alright, you can stay, so long as you keep your word to Pickle and Mic, slip up with them, and you're out of here. You can room with Mic, since she doesn't have anyone with her anyway."

Taco was at a loss for words, a plethora of emotions flooding her system. "Wait... really?" She was going to get to stay at Hotel OJ? With Mic, and everyone else? It didn't seem real.

OJ shrugged, "I let Bomb stay after I forgave him, if Pickle and Mic trust you... It would be hypocritical of me to kick you out, though I can't promise any of the other residents will be thrilled."

"Well... Thank you?"

OJ nodded in response, before exiting the room, the three objects waiting outside quickly filing in as he left.

Pickle was the first in, kneeling down to Taco's level. "So, are you staying? OJ didn't look mad! Although he didn't look happy either I guess..."

Taco shakily nodded to him, "Yeah... I am."

At that the room was filled with resounding celebration, Pickle picked up Taco and spun her around, placing her down on the bed so she could be at their level. Mic whooped in victory, and even Knife gave her a congratulatory pat on the back.

Suddenly Taco didn't care if the other residents heard them anymore. This was her new home, and with that her headache finally ebbed away as she thought of the new life in front of her.

---------------------------------

Taco's first few weeks at the Hotel OJ were rough, to say the least.

OJ had announced her presence to the hotel residents during breakfast after their talk. It went poorly.

Most seemed stunned at the decision, and Pickle had to explain to her how she had become a sort of urban legend around the hotel.

To quote him directly, "After you went MIA, most people assumed you were lurking around, I think it was the season one contestants that really spread it around. When they weren't partying or bad-mouthing Balloon they were spreading rumors about you stalking me or something."

For that reason Taco tried her best to keep her presence around the others minor. However, that didn't stop them from mumbling things about her under their breath, just close enough to make sure she heard them.

It wasn't to say Taco didn't have any positive interactions in the first weeks! The season two contestants, largely unaware of her past, were far more accepting of her into their groups, or at the very least tolerated her presence.

Cheesy was the most hospitable, inviting her to his comedy setups, and seeking her out to chat. Initially his extroverted nature had thrown her off, she never was good with small talk, but he won her over.

No matter how eye-roll worthy his jokes were, his attempts to spark laughter were... admirable.

The first real event Taco attended at the hotel was an improv show Cheesy was hosting. She was less invited and more peer pressured by him and Mic to come watch, but Taco would be lying if she said she wasn't happy for the excuse.

As everyone filed in, Taco took a seat next to Mic. Lightbulb and her friends settled beside her, exchanging pleasantries, until the lights dimmed and the show began.

It was... nice. Taco would even hazard to call it good fun.

Sure there were mishaps, some participants couldn't seem to do spontaneous storytelling to save their lives, but isn't that the fun of improv in the first place? For the duration of the show Taco didn't feel scrutinized by the others enjoying the show, almost like she was one of them.

Once the set ended and everyone filed out the feeling faded. Familiar faces like Salt, Pepper, Paintbrush, and the others once again diligently ignoring her.

Taco sighed, it wasn't perfect, but progress rarely is, right? She certainly couldn't tell.

Taco helped Mic and Cheesy clean up, parting ways as they went to join the others in the kitchen. Taco wished them well and set off on her own.

Taco exited the theater, walking down the warm orange hallway (identical to all the others, Taco had quickly learned this was a growing complaint among residents, and she had gotten quite lost on her first day), and turned to go upstairs.

She walked past the floor for her and Mic's room, exiting a few floors higher, and set out for her location, the library.

OJ had given her a tour of the hotel a few days after she got settled in, and Taco had been sure to take note of which rooms seemed less... occupied.

She knew it would do her no good to stay in her room all day, yet at the same time her social anxiety kept her from enjoying many of the more prominent open spaces in the hotel.

As it turned out no one in Hotel OJ seemed to be a devout bookworm, and so the decently sized library on the fifth floor was almost always deserted.

Taco had taken to going there whenever she needed some time to herself, the book selection could be better, and the shelves were quite dusty (she kept forgetting to ask Soap for some of her cleaning supplies, but she had been giving her the cold shoulder for reasons unknown), but it was space to breathe.

Then, down the hallway, there was a small creak, and before Taco could open the door she froze, quickly turning to stare down the hallway.

No one was there. Taco took a deep breath, she must just be high strung today, and proceeded into the library.

It was empty, as usual. The room was fairly well lit, a long window lining the outer wall of the room, accented by smaller windows shaped in segmented semi circles, like slices of citrus. Taco flicked on the light switch, and made her way over to one of the reading nooks in the corner of the room.

There were some beanbags that Taco had set up, a small pile of books she had been chipping her way through, and some blankets haphazardly strewn around the area.

The selection left something to be desired, a large portion of the library was architecture or law based reading, from back when OJ was setting up the hotel, but the smaller selection of fiction and biographical pieces were more than enough to keep Taco busy.

Currently she was reading from a collection of scientific studies on fruit trees. Admittedly she had started it just to burn time, but had slowly grown a fondness for the subject.

Maybe she should go check on the lemon trees on the season one grounds, they hadn't been doing great as of recent, some nasty droughts having damaged them. She hoped they were alright, despite everything they retained a nostalgic feeling for her.

Taco flopped down into the beanbag, and picked up her book, sinking into the seat as she let all her worries ebb away.

Preoccupied with her reading, Taco didn't notice the library door quietly slip open.

"Uh, hey Taco!" A squeaky voice broke the silence of Taco's quiet reading nook.

"Ah!" Taco physically jumped at the unexpected voice.

"Oh, sorry! I should have announced myself."

Once Taco gathered herself, she looked up to see who had startled her.

Balloon stood in front of her. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, gesturing to the beanbag beside her.

Taco was confused, and wanted to walk out now that her alone time had been cut short, but bit her tongue, she was trying to be less rude afterall. "Of course not."

Balloon settled in next to her, Taco pulled her book back over her face and tried to ignore him, suddenly very conscious of the gauze still stuck to her face. Most objects seemed to ignore it, and Taco got used to using one eye fairly quickly, but when she remembered it she wanted nothing more than to shield it from everyone, a physical reminder of all her mistakes.

Just as she was settling back in, Balloon piped up again "Uh, Taco?"

Taco poked her head over her book to glance at him, "Yes?"

"Are you doing alright?"

No. She wanted to say.

No, I'm pretty sure everyone here tolerates me at best and hates me at worst, and I'd rather run back out to the forest, lay down in the dirt, and decompose than try to confront any of them.

But what she really said was, "Yeah, why?"

"Well... I know how hard it can be to get used to a new environment when everyone seems to hate you so I figured I'd reach out! If you've got anything eating at you that you don't wanna tell Mic or whoever else... I'd be happy to listen!"

Taco was unsure, she knew Balloon had been largely accepted back into the group, but reaching out to her? She didn't dwell on it, best not to look a gift horse in its mouth after all.

"I- Yeah actually, there's a lot I just... Don't know how to deal with."

Balloon nodded, encouraging her forward, and Taco began to spill out all the tension she had built up in the last two days.

"I just feel like everyone hates me! Even if I know that probably isn't true the way they won't look at me, or gossip about me when I walk by, it gets to me... I'm trying to be better, and I know that's a process and what not, but besides Mic and Pickle I feel like I'm stuck chasing my own tail."

Balloon sighed, "I get what you mean. If it's any consolation they treated me exactly the same way when I got here! I basically hid out in my room for the entire day and snuck down for scraps at night, provided no one locked my door as a 'prank' or anything else, it really stunk."

Taco cringed, "Geez, that sounds rough."

Balloon shrugged "Eh, I'm over it, eventually I gathered my courage and tried to reconnect with them. Some went better than others, but it really helped improve my mindset."

Taco shrunk back into her beanbag "Thank you but... I don't think I'm ready for that quite yet."

"Oh of course not! Do things at your own pace, I guess my point is less about how to improve and more the fact that change isn't linear."

Taco tilted her head "How so?"

"Like you said, it's a process, but sometimes it involves taking some steps back. You can't beat yourself up over days when you don't improve because they're just part of the journey, ya'know."

Taco thought over what Balloon had said, it was... oddly comforting. Validating.

"Thanks, that actually helps a lot," Taco said, then tentatively added, "You wouldn't mind hanging out a bit more, would you? Having someone to talk to that isn't Mic or Pickle is nice."

"Of course!" Balloon replied.

Taco relaxed, and began explaining some of the facts she'd been learning from her book, to which Balloon enthusiastically responded, apparently having his own small garden in his room.

All of the stress from the last few days slipped away as she talked to someone who really understood her situation, and Taco felt a renewed sense of determination to continue her attempts to change, whether they be steps forward or steps back.

---------------------------------

A bit over a month into her time at the hotel, Taco finally felt like she belonged. Not everyone accepted her, but the vast majority of the season one cast had finally gotten over her presence, she had even made a few more friends!

She and Balloon had remained close, Paintbrush had proven a good resource for managing her admittedly short fuse, and she'd even bonded with Pepper, who she had connected with after Pepper confided in her about having issues trying to be more of an individual away from Salt.

Taco had been sitting at the dining room's island, chatting over breakfast with Pepper when OJ walked up to them, making rounds of the lobby to hand out the chore sheets for the week.

Sometime before Taco moved in OJ had had enough of him, Paper, and Soap being the only ones doing work around the hotel, so he had inducted a chore system.

It was normally just some dusting, dishes, and helping with events. Sometimes Taco would get paired with objects who would slack off, which could be annoying, but besides that it was never too bad.

Today however, Taco noticed something she'd never had to do before. 'Meal duty: Taco + Soap' was written at the top of the list, dated for that night.

OJ was very picky about who would cook food on days he and Paper didn't want to, Taco never expected to be on that list anytime soon.

What was more concerning was the fact that she was paired up with Soap. Looking over at the pink object who was eating on the other side of the room, she could tell she was equally un-eager to work with her.

Soap had been dismissive towards Taco since she'd gotten to the hotel, though she wasn't sure why. She knew Mic and Soap were close, she was one of the first people Mic had introduced to her when she settled in, saying that she was friends with Pickle as well, but she was far from welcoming.

Taco could swear up and down that Soap had made every effort possible to criticize her presence among the other residents. She was the only season two contestant who seemed to genuinely dislike her, and would routinely pull Mic away from her when they tried to hang out.

She had kept her mouth shut at the time, still learning how to coexist with others again, but that had been getting harder as of recent.

She watched as Soap waved over OJ, and could clearly hear her objections to their shared chore.

"Cooking dinner is never a shared job, and I'm already written down for helping clean up the pool deck! What gives?"

"We need more people who can actually cook around here, so I figured you could help Taco with her first go!" OJ shouted from the kitchen, before walking over, "Why, is that an issue?"

Taco watched in reserved smugness as Soap bit her tongue "No, it's fine."

OJ clapped, "Great! Taco, why don't you come over, I'll show you where all the recipes and ingredients are."

Taco hopped down from her seat, saying goodbye to Pepper, and hustling over to join OJ.

"Any reason why you chose me? No hard feelings but barely two weeks ago most of the hotel thought I was plotting to poison them or something crazy."

"You're competent. Ninety percent of the people I tried to teach how to cook either made something inedible, or burned everything they touched, which in Paintbrush's case was the entire kitchen."

"That's a low bar."

"You'd be surprised how many objects here can limbo."

Taco chuckled, "Alright, lead the way!!"

A quick tour of the freezer and a flip through a cookbook later, Taco realized something she had failed to take into account.

She had not cooked any real meals for over a year now.

Living in the woods didn't offer much opportunity for cooking, or warm meals in general, lest you start a forest fire. The farthest Taco ever got was cold soup, and to say that it was far from fine dining would be an understatement.

As Taco read over the enchilada recipe OJ had pointed her towards once more, she was startled by a tap on her shell.

Taco flinched as a sharp sting traveled through her still-healing shell. She'd been able to finally remove the gauze over her eye, but the rest of her shell was still dotted with bandaids and stitch tape.

As she looked up she saw Soap standing above her, looking over her work thus far. Taco had cut up everything they needed, and had begun mixing together the sauce.

Soap seemed pleased enough with her work, and went to her side to begin frying tortillas, all without saying a word to Taco.

She tried to shrug it off, this could be going much worse, at this rate they'd at least make an edible meal. The two continued to work in silence until it was time to fill the wrappers.

Taco pulled out a glass pan from a cabinet, offering it over to Soap, who snatched it out of her hand quite forcibly. Taco stumbled at the pull, accidentally bumping into Soap.

Hastily putting down the tray so as not to drop it, Soap righted herself, turning on her heel to face Taco. "Hey, watch it!"

Taco was taken aback, her snappy side getting the best of her.

"Geez, sorry." She spat out with as little genuineness as she could muster. "I have no idea what made you in particular detest me so much, but it's no excuse to be such a twit all the time!"

Soap looked like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting Taco to bite back. The taller object turned around, easily looming over Taco.

"I don't have a reason to hate you?! I know alllllll about what you did to Pickle and Mic, and just because they forgive you doesn't mean I have to."

Taco's mouth was agape in confusion, "How in the world does that have anything to do with you!?"

Soap scoffed in contempt, "Do you know what Mic did the day after she quit? She cried into my arms about all the awful things you did to her, and made her do to others."

She crossed her arms. "Mic can forgive you all she wants, she's smart, and reads people well, but you hurt her in ways she can't even describe, so I'll be withholding my trust, thank you very much."

Taco stepped back, she had a feeling Soap and Mic were closer than they let on, but she never knew Mic had told Soap anything like that...

"I... Okay, that's fair," Taco relinquished, looking down.

Soap turned back to the counter, and the two returned to working in silence, though this time it was far more uncomfortable.

She slid their work into the oven, set a timer, and stepped back. Soap was already making her way out of the kitchen, but seemed to have paused at the doorway.

She sighed, "I'm... Sorry for what I said, I don't hate you, I'm just trying to protect Mic."

"No, I get it. It might do me some good to have someone keeping me in check. OJ made some comments about kicking me out if I hurt Mic or Pickle again, but I think it was formality more than anything."

Taco sighed, "I have their best interest at heart but I don't know if it always comes off that way. Either way, I don't hate you either, and please do tell me if something I've done makes them uncomfortable."

Soap smiled, nodding at her. "I will. Now c'mon let's go find them, we've got time to spare before dinner's ready."

Taco smiled back, following her out of the room.

When they returned for dinner a certain warmth filled Taco, seeing the hotel enjoy what she made, OJ even asked her if she'd be willing to cook again.

She could only describe it as an intangible wistfulness. A growing twinkling of hope.

---------------------------------

Three months into her stay at the hotel, Taco was finally an accepted resident, and she had never felt so content in her life.

People who just a year ago she would have run away from in fear, knowing they detested her for what she had done to Pickle, had embraced her presence in full.

Some days Taco felt as if she had been wasting her time away in the forest, that it had barred her from change. The shadowed leaves and winding paths a cruel metaphor for someone unwilling to risk a change, already destined to a fate.

But life wasn't a fairy tale, and now that she had a support system of people who cared about her, a care she returned in full to the best of her ability she had no reason to ever wish it to be like one.

She wasn't perfect, no one truly is, but her mistakes no longer defined her. The Taco who had dreamed of riches and glory was long dead and she often found herself dancing on her grave.

Now she laughed with Lightbulb and Paintbrush at a party OJ was holding in celebration of season two of II's conclusion.

Lightbulb had won through determination and optimism, and Taco believed she deserved it, if only for how pivotal she had been in helping her reunite with Mic. The ditzy team leader had wormed her way into her heart, and she was happy to have her around.

As they chatted now, Lightbulb lamented not really having a plan for the money. Taco and Paintbrush assured her that she would find one in due time.

Taco was pulled away from the two by Pepper, excitedly bringing her onto the dancefloor. Bright lights danced around the room, and music blasted as residents took turns requesting songs to the DJing Cheesy.

Taco laughed with her, the sound lost in the melody throughout the room.

Eventually the two floated over to a larger group of objects who were chatting, including Mic, Soap, Knife, and Pickle, who inquired how Taco was enjoying her first real big party at the hotel.

To her own surprise, considering how she tended to despise loud music and the draining experience of socializing, Taco found she was, and said as much.

As the party winded down Taco was able to hear herself think again. Though the night was a blur and some specifics were lost to her, it was a memory she knew she'd cherish.

She and Soap helped fold chairs and clean up food, as most objects began filing up to bed, tired out by the events of the night.

Taco was about to do the same when she heard Mic speak over the small crowd that still lingered in the venue.

"Hey, Taco, remember that little valley we found out in the woods that one time?"

Taco, intrigued, replied "Uh, yeah, why?"

"Why don't we go out there, do some stargazing y'know? The hotel's great but the light blocks so many of them it just doesn't feel the same," Mic announced to the room.

A number of objects seemed intrigued, the group from earlier as well as Lightbulb especially. They chatted amongst themselves until Lightbulb walked up to the hotel door, opening it to let the cool night air in, "Well, c'mon, lead the way!"

The walk was brisk, and dark. Lightbulb provided a fair amount of vision, but did little to cease the chill from the wind that rolled over the fields beyond the hotel's bounds.

The group huddled together, Taco walking to the front to help guide them, not minding the crispness of the air, having long since grown used to it living out in the forest.

Mic lingered, holding hands with Soap as they began to push their way through the forest, trying her best not to trip over the uneven ground.

It reminded her of the night she left to find Taco again, despite the much lighter tone. She wondered if the mood of densely packed foliage and Lightbulb's warm glow would ever be removed from her consciousness, now a bittersweet memory.

Mic perked up as she began to hear the faint trickle of water growing louder, and stepped out of the overgrowth into a small valley she had only seen once before.

The area was defined by a small flowing river, barely reaching up to most object's ankles, dotted with stepping stones, and lined with small cattails. The stars in the sky, now visible removed from the lights of the hotel, reflected off the dark water.

The group dispersed into the clearing, some setting down blankets and sleeping bags, others simply laying down in the grass, wet with dew from a rainstorm that happened yesterday, signaling the arrival of Fall on the island.

The entire area evoked a feeling of nostalgia, ironic, for someplace only Mic could possibly hold a fondness for.

Mic sat down on the river's edge, waving Taco over to join her.

She seemed to be having a similarly calm night to Mic as she sat beside her, a certain softness in her gaze.

Good. Too often Taco's face was scrunched, be it in confusion, or doubt, seeing her so collected was a welcome sight.

Mic sighed, breaking the silence, "It almost doesn't feel real sometimes, huh?"

Taco smiled, her hands playing with pebbles that dotted the riverbank. "How so?"

"Being here, together."

"Last time I remember visiting this place that was the case as well."

Mic elbowed her, "You know what I mean! Just... us this time. No game, or secrets, or worries."

Taco looked back to the others, laughing together and stargazing. "I suppose. It's less that it doesn't feel real and more that it's something I'd never have imagined for myself."

Mic smiled as well, leaning to rest one of her arms on Taco, "Awwwww, Taco's finally going soft? Where's the crabby introvert I used to know?" She teased.

Taco gently shoved Mic off of her, feigning annoyance. "Don't get used to it. I'm just feeling nice tonight."

Mic chuckled, "Sure, I'll believe it when I see it."

They sat in silence for a while, eventually leaning back to enjoy the stars, Mic dipping her feet into the cool water of the river.

"You know, your shell should be done healing, right? You can take off the rest of that stuff."

Taco sat up, picking at the small amounts of dressing that remained over her shell. "I suppose you're right. Care to help?"

Mic sat up to join her, carefully removing the remaining bandages covering Taco's face, leaning back to see the result.

The crack never fully healed, rather it hardened into place. The right side of Taco's face, though no longer on the verge of falling apart, remained fragmented around her eye, and a large portion of her shell.

Taco stood up, leaning over the river to look at her reflection, distorted by it's leisurely flow, but clear enough to see herself.

She moved a hand to her face, running it along the largest remaining fracture in silence. Her expression betrayed nothing about her feelings on the situation.

Mic leaned forward, keeping her voice soft, "Hey, are you alright?"

Taco nodded, "Yeah, I actually... Kinda like it. It feels like me."

It was something Taco wouldn't have been able to say about herself months ago, when the object she saw in the mirror was a failure. The one who betrayed her best friend in a fit of rage. The one who couldn't foster a valuable relationship to save her life.

The scar was a right of passage, a lesson learned.

Taco wasn't sure how long they spent in the valley, the group beginning to walk back before the sun could peek it's way over the distant mountains.

The hotel served like a guiding light, a landmark steering them back where they belonged.

A home.

As they returned, a saturated sunrise beginning to paint the sky with color, Taco held herself differently, and took another step forward.