Chapter Text
The forest was too quiet.
Mic’s breath came in short gasps as she held Soap, the world collapsing inward with every ragged beat of her heart. She rocked her, over and over, whispering useless things like “It’s okay” and “I’m here,” even though nothing was okay. Even though Soap could barely speak.
And then—
Bang.
The sound tore through the trees like lightning splitting the sky.
Soap jerked in her arms.
For a second, Mic didn’t understand.
Then she felt it.
Warm, wet liquid, spreading fast.
“Soap?” Her voice cracked, panicked. She pulled back slightly.
Soap's eyes had gone wide—unfocused.
Her lips parted.
No words.
Just a shuddering breath—and then silence.
Mic looked down.
Blood.
Blooming from a hole in Soap’s side.
“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no—NO!”
She clutched her tighter, shaking her. “Soap—SOAP! Please…say something! I—I just found you—I just…”
Another breathless sound escaped Soap’s lips.
Then she slumped.
Gone.
Just like that.
Something snapped inside Mic. A wire. A switch. A heartbeat she’d been holding onto too long.
She spun around.
Taco stood in the doorway of the shack, a pistol still raised, lazily twirling it in her hand like she hadn’t just destroyed Mic’s best friend.
“How. DARE YOU.”
Taco raised a brow, lowering the gun with casual ease. “Overreact much? Come on, Microphone, I warned you.”
Mic let out a breathless, broken laugh, her hands trembling violently at her sides. “Overreact…?” Her voice cracked, then twisted sharp. “OVERREACT?! YOU FUCKING KILLED HER?!”
Taco sipped from a cup of tea she’d pulled from nowhere, unbothered. “You knew how this would end, Mic. You saw it, didn’t you? That dream wasn’t a warning. It was a memory waiting to happ—”
She didn’t finish.
Mic screamed and slammed into her.
Taco's cup flew into the air, tea spraying in slow motion before it came crashing down—scalding liquid splattering across Taco’s face.
Her shriek split the forest.
“YOU—GHHK—BITCH!” she howled, clawing at her face. Steam rose from her skin as she stumbled back, digging through her shell. Fingers gripped her gun again—
But Mic was faster.
She snatched the shattered porcelain from the ground and hurled it.
A white shard buried itself deep into Taco’s eye.
A sickening crunch followed.
Taco screamed again, blood pouring from between her fingers. The gun dropped with a dull thud.
Mic lunged.
They hit the dirt together—Mic on top, straddling her, eyes empty with fury.
Taco’s remaining eye widened. Panic. Real panic.
“Wait—!”
Crack.
Mic’s fist connected with her jaw.
Crack.
Her face.
Crack.
Her nose.
Each hit echoed through the clearing, more brutal than she calculated. Mic was beyond logic. Beyond restraint. Blood sprayed with each punch, coating her knuckles, her arms, her soul.
Taco coughed, gasping, her face quickly becoming unrecognizable.
And yet—
She smiled.
Mic froze.
Just for a second.
Taco’s swollen, torn lips peeled back into a bloody grin. “Kill me. I dare you.”
Mic’s breathing was erratic.
Her fists shook.
Then—
Crack .
She brought it down one last time.
Something inside Taco gave.
She jerked once.
Then went still.
Her face twisted in a final frozen grin, bloodied and grotesque. A mockery of victory. A grim statue.
Mic stared.
For a long, horrible moment, she didn’t move.
Then she staggered back, off of Taco’s body.
Her hands: Red.
The forest was silent again.
She looked over her shoulder.
Soap’s body was still slumped where she’d left it.
Eyes closed.
Gone.
Mic stumbled toward her, collapsed to her knees, and pulled her close again.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I did it… I got her back for you.”
No answer.
Just the wind, moving through the trees.