When you hear the whirring and buzzing of the transportalizer, signalling that the treats had arrived, you make your way back to the room where you’d find it in a hurry. Usually, this wouldn’t have been that big of a deal. Well, that wasn’t completely true, you did get excited and you were thankful of people that sent you goods, regardless of who it was. But... this time specifically, it was a little different for you. It wasn’t him, exactly, but it was an alternate of him. He still loved to bake like no tomorrow, cook, had kids... It was close enough for you to think of this as a big deal, maybe a bigger deal than you should.
You make it to the room, and when you look down at the pad, there’s a box waiting there for you. A decent sized box, with a note attached to it. "I HOPE YOU’LL ENJOY THEM! -DAD.”
... Dad, it read. A small smile comes to your face, both happy and sad at the same time. You don’t bother taking the box to the kitchen, to your room, or anywhere else. All you do is sit down against the wall near the port, and you open the box. Muffins, both blueberry and chocolate chip, and caramel cookies, just as he’d promised. They all smelled delicious, too. You waste no time grabbing one of the blueberry muffins from the box and taking a bite out of it.
After the first few bites, and then another few, you purse your lips. Tears begin welling up in your eyes quickly, and your free hand moves the box out of your lap and to the side, then up to your face. Your press the back of your hand to your lips as you feel fresh, warm tears roll down your face. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel them coming up quicker and faster. Oh, fuck, this hit a lot harder than you were expecting it to. It made you so happy to taste food like this again, but it also hurt so, so deeply.
It reminds you of your dad. When you were little, he always made you cakes and muffins and sweets. You had loved it for a long time, but did you ever thank him for it? No. And when you turned into a teenager, before you entered the game, you didn’t touch the stuff. You still loved it, but you lied to him. You always complained to him about how often he made it, you told him you’d gotten sick of them even though it was a lie. Chalk it up to being a teenage idiot, you suppose. But you never, ever showed him your appreciation for his treats, for always telling you he was proud of you, for being there.
And oh, you regretted it. You regretted it heavily. When you entered the game and played through, he died. At the time, you’d thought maybe it wasn’t permanent. Maybe... just maybe the game wouldn’t leave you to deal with that loss. Maybe you’d find him again after making it out. You held onto that hope for the longest time, even after exiting the game. You searched for him... but you knew. You knew. You weren’t going to find him, because he was long gone. He’d been gone for years. It’d been your fault for entering that dumb game in the first place, too.
You drop your hand from your face, and lean your head back against the wall. An ugly sob works it’s way up and out of you, as you think about him. You never thanked him, never appreciated him, you didn’t remind him how much you loved him often enough. You took what you had for granted, and god, you hated yourself for it; for letting what happened to him happen, and for not appreciating what you had until it was gone. Through your sobs, you manage to spit out some actual words. Words that had been in your head lately, anyway, but manage to make their way out now that it’s hit you with full force.
“I miss you dad. I miss you, so much. I’m so fucking sorry.”
