Chapter Text
The trees whispered when they thought she wasn’t listening.
That’s how it felt, anyway.
Microphone sat with her back pressed against a rotted stump, knees drawn to her chest, sleeves filthy and damp from mud and sweat. Every inch of her ached. The bruises on her knuckles were starting to swell, pulsing in time with her heart. She hadn’t tried to find something to eat, she hadn’t slept, she’d stopped trying.
Leaves crackled in the distance.
Not footsteps. Probably.
Maybe.
Her fingers twitched against the ground, scrabbling at the moss. If someone was there… What would she even do? Apologize? Collapse? Bite their throat out?
A small, sharp laugh broke from her throat.
“God, I am so fucked up.”
“ That’s the first true thing you’ve said in days, ” came a voice behind her.
She didn’t scream.
She didn’t have the energy to.
Instead, she let her head tilt back against the stump and stared upward with glassy eyes. “Oh. It’s you.”
The taco-shaped figure was hovering above her, silent as fog.
That same stupid creature that’s been haunting her for the past couple of hours, it didn’t smile, it didn't make any noise, it just stayed there, staring, like it was wondering what to say.
“ I was starting to think you’d forgotten me, ” It cooed, suddenly crouching in front of her, elbows on its pointed knees like it was settling in for a friendly little chat.
“You're not real.”
“ And you said you'd kill me. Yet here I am, fabulous as ever. ”
Mic scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re not her, you’re just a… a stress demon. A Taco-shaped fever dream. Whatever.”
“ Aw. Hurtful. ” The figure pouted. “ After everything we’ve been through? After I made you the main character of your own little breakdown saga? ”
“Oh shut it.” Mic’s voice was hoarse. “You’re not her, Mephone is gone and she’s dead, so you can't be her logically speaking.”
The figure stared at her with its single eye. “ I mean, yeah. Obviously. Real Taco’s probably soup by now. But you gave me so much material to work with. All that guilt, all that self-hatred… ” A distorted laugh came from it that made Microphone uneasy. “ God it’s kind of pathetic. ”
Mic wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“ Nickel’s tooth didn’t exactly leap out of his mouth on its own. ”
“I panicked!”
“ You always panic. ”
Mic jerked her head toward the shape, almost trembling now. “Why are you still here? What do you want from me?!”
“Taco” leaned forward, close enough that Mic could see its distorting body. “ Want? Oh, sweetheart. I don’t want anything. I’m just here to watch. ” A grin formed on her face, stretching wider. “ I mean, the way you're falling apart? It's better than cable. ”
Mic’s lip curled. “Go to hell.”
“ I’m in your head, darling. You brought me here. ” It stood up again, slowly floating around her. “ You can’t sleep because I’ll be there. You can’t blink because I’ll be closer. You can’t go back to your friends because they all saw what you are now. ”
“I’m not—” Mic choked. “I’m not like you. I’m not a monster.”
“ Oh, no no no, of course not. You’re much sloppier. ” It giggled, then dropped into a whisper. “ That’s what makes you fun. ”
Mic covered her ears, squeezing her eyes shut. “You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real—”
“ You can say that all you want, ” the voice said, circling her now. “ But I’ll still be here. Every time you close your eyes. Every time you feel that itch in your knuckles. You liked it, didn’t you? That moment she stopped breathing. The way the blood felt on your hands. ”
“I DIDN’T—!”
Silence.
Her voice bounced off the trees, came back distorted and hollow. Her chest heaved.
When she opened her eyes again, “Taco” was sitting on the log across from her—legs crossed, hands folded neatly in its lap.
“ Just admit it, Mic, ” it whispered. “ You didn’t just snap. You broke. And there’s no fixing that. ”
Mic didn’t respond.
She couldn’t.
The entity leaned back, smug and content. “ Anyway. I’ll let you get back to your breakdown. You’re doing great, sweetie. ”
She vanished like a smudge on a mirror, melting into the shadows with a wink and a laugh.
Mic stayed there, curled in on herself, shaking like a leaf in a storm.
She didn't cry.
She just sat there.
Waiting for the whispering trees to start up again.