Home for the Holidays, Ch 4 (Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego, Dying Informant; Blizzard)
Title: Home for the Holidays; Chapter 4
Author: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Claim: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (The Dying Informant)
Table: Do-it-Yourself
Prompt: Blizzard
Rating: PG13
Summary: The Informant's search for his friend ends up in a network of abandoned coal mine tunnels.
Warnings: seriousness in a light-hearted fandom
Will be cross-posted to my journal, 30_hugs, and the V.I.L.E. Headquarters fanfic forum.
Author’s Note: thanks again to Lucky Ladybug for more plot help!
*************************
It took a while, but the Informant finally found the little hamlet he had been searching for; it would’ve taken far less time had it not been for the snowstorm. The Mysterious Woman hadn’t been kidding; it really was a terrible blizzard. Desperate to get out of the cold, the Informant found the tavern that the Mysterious Woman had mentioned to him.
One of the patrons glanced at him with raised eyebrows.
“You’re not the first one to show up in a getup like that…” he commented, glancing at the Informant’s trenchcoat and fedora. “Saw another one like you last night, chasing after some blonde girl…” He shook his head. “They ran right out into the snowstorm.”
“…And…?” the Informant asked.
The man shrugged.
“I can’t help you there; I never saw either of them again,” he replied. “But they were heading for a forest outside town.”
And that was how the Informant found himself in the middle of the forest amidst the howling wind and the snow and ice that struck him relentlessly.
“I’m crazy… I have to be out of my mind…” he told himself. “There’s no way they would still be here…” He trailed off as his foot sunk into a large, rotting log. With a cry of disgust, he managed to free himself.
“I can’t take this… I can’t feel my hands… I can hardly walk in this mess… I need to go back…”
He was about to turn back and give up, but something up ahead caught his eye-it was the remnants of a large wall that ran by a stream. The wall was all that remained of an old mill, but that wasn’t what had caught the Informant’s attention; Patty Larceny’s scarf was caught on one of the uneven ledges of the old wall. And if she had been here, the Messenger would have followed.
Half-heartedly, he called out to his colleague, and then to Patty, his voice getting lost in the wind. Neither of them replied him, and after it seemed that the Chase had taken them further ahead into the hills, the Informant pressed on, following the stream to its headwaters.
He was surprised to see that the stream seemed to emerge from within the hills themselves; there was a large pond upstream, but it seemed to be man-made, situated by an old shack. And suddenly, he realized where he was.
“Of course…” he thought. “Pennsylvania was famous for its coal mines; I’ll bet that the mine tunnels run right into these hills… They must’ve been sealed up for years…” He trailed off, looking around. He was right; there didn’t seem to be any sort of entry to these old mines. Perhaps the snow had covered up the slightest entry… if there even was one.
But something was lying beside the old shack-boards that had been clearly ripped from their original position. But there seemed to be something by them; just barely visible amidst the snow, nearly buried in the white flakes, was a familiar-looking fedora. With a gasp, the Informant retrieved the hat, brushing the snow off of it. So… he had been here…
The young detective turned towards the snow-covered hills, furious.
“Let me in!” he ordered. “You’ve got a captive in there, and you’re going to let me in to get him out!”
The wind howled, as thought it was taunting him. With a cry of frustration, the Informant ran at the hillside, trying desperately to find the entrance where the Messenger had gone through.
“Open up, already!” he snarled. “I don’t have all day to be--”
The ground caved in beneath him, and he fell through, falling down a mine shaft that sloped down and deep into the hills. Snow, ice, and dirt cascaded all around him as he finally hit bottom.
“…I’ve gotta be more careful about what I wish for…” he mumbled, getting to his feet. He dew out his flashlight, calling out for the Messenger and for Patty. Only his own voice echoed in the caverns as he walked; if the Messenger and Patty were here, they weren’t answering… or they weren’t able to do so…
*************************
The Techie, the Inspector, and the Recruiting Officer had been tracking the Informant’s progress; they had successfully traced him to the small Pennsylvania town, but he hadn’t told them of any sign of the Messenger, other than the word of mouth from the tavern patron.
But as the Informant had headed to the outskirts of town, the tracking signal was significantly weakening.
“What’s wrong with the equipment?” asked the Recruiting Officer, trying to readjust the equipment on his own out of frustration.
“It’s the blizzard,” sighed the Techie, oblivious to the Recruiting Officer’s attempts to work on the equipment.
But as the Informant fell through into the mine tunnels, the signal was lost completely. The Techie and the Inspector glared at the Recruiting Officer, who backed away from the tracking equipment.
“I didn’t do it!” he insisted, raising his hands. “This is one disaster you can’t blame me for!”
The Inspector’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced.
“Right…”
“Actually, I don’t think he was responsible for this,” said the Techie, readjusting the equipment himself. “The weather is too bad; we lost the signal.” He sighed, shoulders slumping in despair. Now were they going to lose the Informant, too?
The Inspector seemed to sense what he was thinking.
“We’re not throwing in the towel yet,” he said. “We lost the signal? Fine; we’re going over there and get both of them back ourselves.” He turned to the Recruiting Officer. “Tell the Chief that we’re going in to find them; we’re taking one of the ACME helicopters.”
The Recruiting Officer nodded, wishing them luck.
*************************
“Oh, I give up…” the Informant said, after several hours had gone by. “Maybe they’ve already left…”
He attempted to send another message via his communicator to the Techie and the others, but it wasn’t transmitting properly; he was too far underground.
“Wonderful…” he said, sarcastically. “I’m trapped in a blizzard, wandering a network of abandoned mine tunnels… and I’m talking to myself.”
He shivered. It was the Messenger’s fault-if it hadn’t been for him chasing after Patty, he could be by the fire in the ACME lounge… assuming that he wasn’t kicked out of the agency for seeing Patty.
These were the thoughts in his mind as he pressed forward. He was so absorbed in them that he didn’t even watch his footing. Subsequently, he tripped over something, sending him sprawling to the floor.
“What on Earth…?” He shined the flashlight back, and his world fell apart as he beheld the sight before him. The Messenger lay utterly still amidst the ice and dust, his skin pale.
“Hey!” the Informant exclaimed, coming to his side, trying and failing to revive him.
“OK, joke’s over…” he said, shaking him slightly. “This isn’t funny… Wake up, already! You proved your point-you got me worried. Isn’t that enough?
His knuckles rubbed up against the Messenger’s chin. The older man’s skin felt as cold as the ice around him.
“Come on; you’re alright, aren’t you…?”
It wasn’t an inquiry-it was a plea. The Informant swallowed hard as he placed his fingers on the Messenger’s neck. To his relief, he felt a pulse, albeit a very faint one. The older agent was freezing to death, but the warm fingers on his neck caused him to awaken slightly, as he shuddered from the cold.
“Who… who’s there…?” the Messenger asked.
The Informant almost replied, “A friend.” But that, sadly, wasn’t the truth; their friendship had ended in the Domino hospital.
The older man continued to tremble from his hypothermia.
“Is… Is someone there…?” he asked again. He clutched at the hand that he had found. “Who are you?”
“Nobody important,” the youth replied.
The Messenger gasped, his eyes shooting open as he recognized the voice.
“…Infy…!?”
The grip on the Informant’s wrist tightened for an instant, but then the Messenger released him almost immediately.
“You alright…?” the younger man asked.
“Patty isn’t here…” the Messenger said, his voice bitter. “Sorry that I’m getting in the way of your search.”
“What!? No! I came looking for you!”
“Yeah, and I’m sitting by a nice, warm fire like I should be on a winter night like this…” the Messenger said. “I’m slowing down your search for Patty. Go on; save her. She’s the one you came for. I’m a goner anyway.”
“No!” cried the Informant, seizing the Messenger by the shoulders.
“…Let go of me, Informant.”
The youth was stunned; the Messenger had never addressed him like that before. He had always called him “Infy,” since the beginning, even when the Informant had found it annoying
“But… I came to help you…” he said, visibly hurt.
“I realize how satisfying this must be for you,” the Messenger went on. “…Seeing me slip away like this because I tried to arrest your girlfriend… Looks like you both won, didn’t you? Fine. I accept my loss. Go; be happy together. Go back to ACME knowing that I’ll never be able to turn you in. You have your job security, you have Patty, and I’ll soon be out of your way. What more could you want?”
The Informant could not hold back the agonized cry that tore from his lips. He could do nothing, other than hug the dying man. And so he did.
“What’ve I done…?” he cried. “What’ve I done!?”
The Messenger had always been a fun-loving, carefree person. That was gone now, and the Messenger himself was slipping away. The Informant had killed him-in more ways than one.
But the Messenger had been taken aback by the youth’s embrace. And now he was… sobbing?
“What’s the deal, Informant?”
“I’m sorry,” he replied, holding on to him, as though this act would stop him from slipping away further. “I’m so sorry… This is all my fault…”
“Look,” said the Messenger, bitterly. “You don’t have to make me feel better about this… I… I know you love Patty; you chose her. It doesn’t matter… what happens to me…” He trailed off, his eyes closing. Sleep was beckoning to the agent-a sleep that he knew he’d probably never awaken from. “Go on, Informant… Leave me to slip away in peace…”
The Informant only held tighter to him, desperate to keep him alive.
“I’m not going,” he said, softly. “I abandoned you once when I chose Patty; I… I won’t leave you now! You’ll be alright… I don’t know how, but you will be…”
The Messenger was fighting against the unconsciousness that was trying to swallow him again. The Informant had come for him… He was trying to keep him alive. The Messenger blinked back the unshed tears in his eyes, feebly trying to return the youth’s hug. But his arms wouldn’t rise.
“Infy…” he said, softly. “I’m sorry, Infy… for everything…”
He was relying on pure will to raise his arms, and, at last, he was able to momentarily hug his surrogate brother. But the Messenger’s arms eventually slipped as he sank into unconsciousness.
“Sorry, Infy…”
The older man went limp, and the Informant still held onto his motionless form, sobbing in despair.
“Goodnight, sweet prince,” he whispered, between sobs. “And may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”
No… NO! What was he saying!? The Messenger wasn’t going to die! He wouldn’t let it happen! Oh, how he would give anything… anything to have the Messenger come back-even if it meant that he would still turn him in and get him kicked out of ACME. After all, the Informant deserved it.
“I never did belong…” he said, softly. “But you still made me feel as though I did… And how did I repay you!? I treated you like my worst enemy! But I guess I’m incapable of anything else… I want you to stay.” The Informant removed his trenchcoat and wrapped the Messenger in it. Now the Informant was shivering bitterly. But he managed a weak smile as the chill sunk in, his entire body beginning to go numb with cold.
“I’ll take your place.”
Author: Crystal Rose of Pollux (rose_of_pollux)
Claim: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? (The Dying Informant)
Table: Do-it-Yourself
Prompt: Blizzard
Rating: PG13
Summary: The Informant's search for his friend ends up in a network of abandoned coal mine tunnels.
Warnings: seriousness in a light-hearted fandom
Will be cross-posted to my journal, 30_hugs, and the V.I.L.E. Headquarters fanfic forum.
Author’s Note: thanks again to Lucky Ladybug for more plot help!
*************************
It took a while, but the Informant finally found the little hamlet he had been searching for; it would’ve taken far less time had it not been for the snowstorm. The Mysterious Woman hadn’t been kidding; it really was a terrible blizzard. Desperate to get out of the cold, the Informant found the tavern that the Mysterious Woman had mentioned to him.
One of the patrons glanced at him with raised eyebrows.
“You’re not the first one to show up in a getup like that…” he commented, glancing at the Informant’s trenchcoat and fedora. “Saw another one like you last night, chasing after some blonde girl…” He shook his head. “They ran right out into the snowstorm.”
“…And…?” the Informant asked.
The man shrugged.
“I can’t help you there; I never saw either of them again,” he replied. “But they were heading for a forest outside town.”
And that was how the Informant found himself in the middle of the forest amidst the howling wind and the snow and ice that struck him relentlessly.
“I’m crazy… I have to be out of my mind…” he told himself. “There’s no way they would still be here…” He trailed off as his foot sunk into a large, rotting log. With a cry of disgust, he managed to free himself.
“I can’t take this… I can’t feel my hands… I can hardly walk in this mess… I need to go back…”
He was about to turn back and give up, but something up ahead caught his eye-it was the remnants of a large wall that ran by a stream. The wall was all that remained of an old mill, but that wasn’t what had caught the Informant’s attention; Patty Larceny’s scarf was caught on one of the uneven ledges of the old wall. And if she had been here, the Messenger would have followed.
Half-heartedly, he called out to his colleague, and then to Patty, his voice getting lost in the wind. Neither of them replied him, and after it seemed that the Chase had taken them further ahead into the hills, the Informant pressed on, following the stream to its headwaters.
He was surprised to see that the stream seemed to emerge from within the hills themselves; there was a large pond upstream, but it seemed to be man-made, situated by an old shack. And suddenly, he realized where he was.
“Of course…” he thought. “Pennsylvania was famous for its coal mines; I’ll bet that the mine tunnels run right into these hills… They must’ve been sealed up for years…” He trailed off, looking around. He was right; there didn’t seem to be any sort of entry to these old mines. Perhaps the snow had covered up the slightest entry… if there even was one.
But something was lying beside the old shack-boards that had been clearly ripped from their original position. But there seemed to be something by them; just barely visible amidst the snow, nearly buried in the white flakes, was a familiar-looking fedora. With a gasp, the Informant retrieved the hat, brushing the snow off of it. So… he had been here…
The young detective turned towards the snow-covered hills, furious.
“Let me in!” he ordered. “You’ve got a captive in there, and you’re going to let me in to get him out!”
The wind howled, as thought it was taunting him. With a cry of frustration, the Informant ran at the hillside, trying desperately to find the entrance where the Messenger had gone through.
“Open up, already!” he snarled. “I don’t have all day to be--”
The ground caved in beneath him, and he fell through, falling down a mine shaft that sloped down and deep into the hills. Snow, ice, and dirt cascaded all around him as he finally hit bottom.
“…I’ve gotta be more careful about what I wish for…” he mumbled, getting to his feet. He dew out his flashlight, calling out for the Messenger and for Patty. Only his own voice echoed in the caverns as he walked; if the Messenger and Patty were here, they weren’t answering… or they weren’t able to do so…
*************************
The Techie, the Inspector, and the Recruiting Officer had been tracking the Informant’s progress; they had successfully traced him to the small Pennsylvania town, but he hadn’t told them of any sign of the Messenger, other than the word of mouth from the tavern patron.
But as the Informant had headed to the outskirts of town, the tracking signal was significantly weakening.
“What’s wrong with the equipment?” asked the Recruiting Officer, trying to readjust the equipment on his own out of frustration.
“It’s the blizzard,” sighed the Techie, oblivious to the Recruiting Officer’s attempts to work on the equipment.
But as the Informant fell through into the mine tunnels, the signal was lost completely. The Techie and the Inspector glared at the Recruiting Officer, who backed away from the tracking equipment.
“I didn’t do it!” he insisted, raising his hands. “This is one disaster you can’t blame me for!”
The Inspector’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced.
“Right…”
“Actually, I don’t think he was responsible for this,” said the Techie, readjusting the equipment himself. “The weather is too bad; we lost the signal.” He sighed, shoulders slumping in despair. Now were they going to lose the Informant, too?
The Inspector seemed to sense what he was thinking.
“We’re not throwing in the towel yet,” he said. “We lost the signal? Fine; we’re going over there and get both of them back ourselves.” He turned to the Recruiting Officer. “Tell the Chief that we’re going in to find them; we’re taking one of the ACME helicopters.”
The Recruiting Officer nodded, wishing them luck.
*************************
“Oh, I give up…” the Informant said, after several hours had gone by. “Maybe they’ve already left…”
He attempted to send another message via his communicator to the Techie and the others, but it wasn’t transmitting properly; he was too far underground.
“Wonderful…” he said, sarcastically. “I’m trapped in a blizzard, wandering a network of abandoned mine tunnels… and I’m talking to myself.”
He shivered. It was the Messenger’s fault-if it hadn’t been for him chasing after Patty, he could be by the fire in the ACME lounge… assuming that he wasn’t kicked out of the agency for seeing Patty.
These were the thoughts in his mind as he pressed forward. He was so absorbed in them that he didn’t even watch his footing. Subsequently, he tripped over something, sending him sprawling to the floor.
“What on Earth…?” He shined the flashlight back, and his world fell apart as he beheld the sight before him. The Messenger lay utterly still amidst the ice and dust, his skin pale.
“Hey!” the Informant exclaimed, coming to his side, trying and failing to revive him.
“OK, joke’s over…” he said, shaking him slightly. “This isn’t funny… Wake up, already! You proved your point-you got me worried. Isn’t that enough?
His knuckles rubbed up against the Messenger’s chin. The older man’s skin felt as cold as the ice around him.
“Come on; you’re alright, aren’t you…?”
It wasn’t an inquiry-it was a plea. The Informant swallowed hard as he placed his fingers on the Messenger’s neck. To his relief, he felt a pulse, albeit a very faint one. The older agent was freezing to death, but the warm fingers on his neck caused him to awaken slightly, as he shuddered from the cold.
“Who… who’s there…?” the Messenger asked.
The Informant almost replied, “A friend.” But that, sadly, wasn’t the truth; their friendship had ended in the Domino hospital.
The older man continued to tremble from his hypothermia.
“Is… Is someone there…?” he asked again. He clutched at the hand that he had found. “Who are you?”
“Nobody important,” the youth replied.
The Messenger gasped, his eyes shooting open as he recognized the voice.
“…Infy…!?”
The grip on the Informant’s wrist tightened for an instant, but then the Messenger released him almost immediately.
“You alright…?” the younger man asked.
“Patty isn’t here…” the Messenger said, his voice bitter. “Sorry that I’m getting in the way of your search.”
“What!? No! I came looking for you!”
“Yeah, and I’m sitting by a nice, warm fire like I should be on a winter night like this…” the Messenger said. “I’m slowing down your search for Patty. Go on; save her. She’s the one you came for. I’m a goner anyway.”
“No!” cried the Informant, seizing the Messenger by the shoulders.
“…Let go of me, Informant.”
The youth was stunned; the Messenger had never addressed him like that before. He had always called him “Infy,” since the beginning, even when the Informant had found it annoying
“But… I came to help you…” he said, visibly hurt.
“I realize how satisfying this must be for you,” the Messenger went on. “…Seeing me slip away like this because I tried to arrest your girlfriend… Looks like you both won, didn’t you? Fine. I accept my loss. Go; be happy together. Go back to ACME knowing that I’ll never be able to turn you in. You have your job security, you have Patty, and I’ll soon be out of your way. What more could you want?”
The Informant could not hold back the agonized cry that tore from his lips. He could do nothing, other than hug the dying man. And so he did.
“What’ve I done…?” he cried. “What’ve I done!?”
The Messenger had always been a fun-loving, carefree person. That was gone now, and the Messenger himself was slipping away. The Informant had killed him-in more ways than one.
But the Messenger had been taken aback by the youth’s embrace. And now he was… sobbing?
“What’s the deal, Informant?”
“I’m sorry,” he replied, holding on to him, as though this act would stop him from slipping away further. “I’m so sorry… This is all my fault…”
“Look,” said the Messenger, bitterly. “You don’t have to make me feel better about this… I… I know you love Patty; you chose her. It doesn’t matter… what happens to me…” He trailed off, his eyes closing. Sleep was beckoning to the agent-a sleep that he knew he’d probably never awaken from. “Go on, Informant… Leave me to slip away in peace…”
The Informant only held tighter to him, desperate to keep him alive.
“I’m not going,” he said, softly. “I abandoned you once when I chose Patty; I… I won’t leave you now! You’ll be alright… I don’t know how, but you will be…”
The Messenger was fighting against the unconsciousness that was trying to swallow him again. The Informant had come for him… He was trying to keep him alive. The Messenger blinked back the unshed tears in his eyes, feebly trying to return the youth’s hug. But his arms wouldn’t rise.
“Infy…” he said, softly. “I’m sorry, Infy… for everything…”
He was relying on pure will to raise his arms, and, at last, he was able to momentarily hug his surrogate brother. But the Messenger’s arms eventually slipped as he sank into unconsciousness.
“Sorry, Infy…”
The older man went limp, and the Informant still held onto his motionless form, sobbing in despair.
“Goodnight, sweet prince,” he whispered, between sobs. “And may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”
No… NO! What was he saying!? The Messenger wasn’t going to die! He wouldn’t let it happen! Oh, how he would give anything… anything to have the Messenger come back-even if it meant that he would still turn him in and get him kicked out of ACME. After all, the Informant deserved it.
“I never did belong…” he said, softly. “But you still made me feel as though I did… And how did I repay you!? I treated you like my worst enemy! But I guess I’m incapable of anything else… I want you to stay.” The Informant removed his trenchcoat and wrapped the Messenger in it. Now the Informant was shivering bitterly. But he managed a weak smile as the chill sunk in, his entire body beginning to go numb with cold.
“I’ll take your place.”