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A lone hook could be seen, stuck deeply into the thick layer of ice clinging to the jagged cliff. If one’s gaze followed downwards in the direction of the hook, they’d be able to glimpse a furious, furry figure, desperately hanging on by the hook.

“Yo, dat Carter’s gonna pay!” Drums screamed in fury, as stabbing pains shot along his arm from the stress set upon it. It was ironic in a sense: the severing of his hand, caused by none other than Nick Carter himself, was what had saved him from certain death. It was the very hook Dr. Rough had attached in place of his hand that had kept him from tumbling down through the air, landing on the sharp rocks that had been the end of their bobsled. Snow stuck to the matted Quatchi suit that he still wore, weighing him down more. His other hand gripped a rock wedged into the side of the ledge, trying not to shiver from the stinging cold.

“Drums, we are going to make him suffer for all that he’s caused us. It’s just going to take time; I think we underestimated the blonde boy wonder. But you will be rewarded,” Dr. Rough replied in soothing tones. Drums glanced down at his mentor and leader – not that he needed to, to know where he was. He could feel Dr. Rough holding his legs in the tightest death grip known to man. He was at about his knees, his arms wrapped around them, fighting hard not to look down. If he looked a little further, he could even see Dr. Twitches, squeaking for dear life. He was on Dr Rough’s shoe, dressed cutely in a little beanie and scarf that matched the tiny purple sweater he wore, and looking reasonably terrified.

Suddenly, the sounds of a helicopter could be heard. Drums swore to himself. “Damn, if dat’s da HimTak suckas, we screwed.”

“No…” Dr. Rough replied in an awed wonder. “Look…”

The helicopter came into view, hovering above them. The first thing they spotted was the silver and purple F.A.N.S. logo Drums had come to know well. Drums gazed upwards, towards the top of the ledge, and there, waving its wing, was MJ. The penguin squawked loudly, seeming to be summoning the helicopter closer. He had a little barrel strapped around his neck, and a headpiece over his ear hole.

“Ohh, I got mad love for dat mutated bird, yo,” Drums murmured, as a rope was lowered down to them. Gripping it tightly with his right hand, he pried his prosthetic hook free of the frozen ground.

Dave Moffatt, triplet of Clint and Bob, was in the door of the helicopter, pulling the rope up. The two men and ferret breathed a sigh of relief and let themselves be lifted into the air and into safety once more.

Dr. Rough finally looked downwards as they rose, his eyes scanning for any sight of the infuriating Agent Carter.

“It’s not over, Carter… not by a long shot. IT’S. NOT. OVER!!!!”


± ± ±


Cold.

Really Cold.

Hella Fucking Cold.

Really Annoyingly Fucking Cold.

Those were the only thoughts going through Nick’s mind, as he blinked his eyes and saw nothing but pure white above him. For a moment, his heart felt like it was about to explode with panic.

“Nick?! If you’re there, respond!” Jay’s voice crackled near his head. Nick took as deep a breath as he could, in a attempt to calm himself. The voice was only inches away from his ears, where his arm rested beneath the snow.

Must’ve gotten buried by that avalanche. Shitballs! He attempted to move his arms, forcing them through the snow. Much to his relief, he found he hadn’t been buried too far underneath. After a few minutes, he was able to pull himself completely out of the snowy debris, shaking off as much as he could. He shivered visibly, fighting not to let his teeth chatter.

“I’m alright, Jay,” he replied into his watch, which, none to his surprise, still worked. Pearl always thought ahead that way. She would make it extreme snow-proof.

“You had me worried, man; I saw the avalanche. And not to be punny, but… you were out cold for awhile.”

“Hardy-ha-ha,” Nick replied sarcastically, as he regrouped. He swiped the snow out of his hair, his eyebrows, and his eyes, even. Then he sighed. He’d seen Dr. Rough and Drums go over the edge, but even so, they’d probably made it out alive. They always did; they were like zombies that way, always seeming to come back from the dead, and nothing would kill them, except a bullet to the brain, from the looks of it.

“Any sign of Styx?”

Nick paused his current trek through the snow. “Wait, you mean you haven’t seen him?”

“Not since that avalanche buried you both. I’m gonna have Pearl see if she can’t get a signal going from his mission cam and send it to your watch.”

“Aight, beep me when ya got something. And tell K I don’t want any more damn missions in the snow!”

He clicked his watch shut, looking around desperately for his protégée. This was a hard business, but he was starting to feel a camaraderie with the shadow agent. The reasoning was simple: Styx reminded him a lot of himself when he’d first joined. The instinctive actions, the fighting style so similar to his own, and an easygoingness not often found in this field. There was creativity that Nick appreciated from his sparring sessions with Styx, and he knew that he could be a great double-0 agent one day. Nick even understood why K had assigned Styx to him, despite how Nick had resented it at first.

And now, on their first paired mission together, to really get the shadow agent ready, Nick may have just gotten him killed. He ran across the powdery-looking ground, his eyes searching for any sign of life.

“STYX!” he screamed. A distant rumble reminded him that screaming wasn't a good idea if he wanted to stay above the snow.

Nick growled as he kicked a nearby pine tree as hard as he could muster. “Damn it!” Why did it feel like Dr. Rough always won? How was it that when he should have been dead, he was still alive? How had Drums been able to survive losing all that blood when he’d accidentally sliced off his hand? How did they escape again and again?

Why did he always fail?

He kicked the tree again. “Motherfucker! Stupid FANS, with all their bullshit. Stupid cold. Stupid fucking snow! This is why global warming is good! To get rid of this freezing-ass snow!”

Nick’s watch beeped before the tiny screen rose to show Jay and Pearl. Jay gave a warm, comforting smile. “If K heard you say that, you’d be dead.”

Pearl could be seen typing on her keyboard. “I’ve got Styx’s signal. The cam got wiped out, so I can’t give any sort of visual, though I think it’d be all snow anyway. Luckily, he was testing this new device of mine, and I was able to hone in on the tracking signal. I’m sending the coordinates to your watch, okay?”

Nick sighed with relief. “Thanks, Pearl.”

“Be warned, Nick… I don’t know how deep he got buried, just where his general location is. The signal isn’t the strongest.”

He nodded, ending the connection as a map appeared, with a pulsing red dot not too far from a steady blue one. He took a few steps, and when he saw the blue dot move, he nodded to himself. He ran in the direction Styx seemed to be in. Who knew how deep he was in the snow, if he was alright…

If he was alive.

Finally, when he spotted the two dots on top of each other on the tiny watch map, he flipped the screen shut. Glancing down, he was momentarily confused. Some part of him had still expected a more evident sign of the agent. Regaining his bearings, he began digging furiously into the snow. The cold was aggravating him more and more, as he felt his teeth chatter and his fingers burn with frostbite, yet he didn’t care. He had to save him. He couldn’t cause yet another death to a fellow agent. Drums – and consequentially, Shazam – had been enough.

Finally, he uncovered a dark hand poking through the snow. Encouraged, he kept brushing the snow off of Styx, revealing his arm, then the top of his head, until he was finally able to pull him out. Styx was still, but he was breathing. He was alive. Nick shook the young man, hoping against anything he had just been knocked out by the impact, same as he himself had been.

“Hey, you alright?”

A pair of brown eyes blinked open. Styx’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh, Nick Carter, you’re my hero,” he teased.

“Good to see you’re alright.”

Styx sat up, giving Nick a nod as he shivered. “I’m alright, just really goddamn cold.”

“Tell me about it.” Nick flipped his watch open yet again, speaking clearly into it.

“Connect me to Diamond.”

Within moments, he could hear her girlish voice. “Nick! We were able to save her! Problems solved.”

“Hey, I need you to pick me up. Me and Styx… it’s a long story. Have Pearl send you our coordinates.”

“No problem.”

“And hey, maybe we can make our own body heat up at one of the cabins.” He smirked.

He could hear Diamond’s enticing smile in her voice. “That can be arranged.”


± ± ±


They were at the lodge now, warming themselves by a magnificent fireplace. Styx was curled up on one of the overstuffed couches, half-buried with blankets and looking as if he never wanted to feel a hint of cold ever again. Lancy was perched nearby, talking to a young ski instructor and flirting as shamelessly as possible. Nick glanced back at them from his place at the bar, next to Diamond. The entire scene, as unique as it was, felt picturesque to him.

“… So we found the real mascots, poor things; they had been bound and gagged and thrown into some supply closet. Ew.”

Nick nodded, as the bartender finally noticed them waiting and headed their way. “So all of them were imposters. That sounds about right.”

“The skaters are all shaken by what happened, but we told them that there’s nothing to worry about. The rest of the Games should go as planned now. Lancy’s ecstatic ‘cause he’s gotten so many autographs through this.” Diamond giggled. “Me, I need a serious shopping session. Fighting evil does that to a girl.”

“What can I get for you guys?”

Nick flashed a seductive smirk at the bartender. “Cocoa. Hot cocoa. Shaken, not stirred.” She gave them an odd look, but went to prepare the drink as requested. He sighed. “I need a break from all these cold-ass missions. And what the hell happened to make Canada cause all this shit? Canada’s supposed to be ignored, damn it!”

As the hot chocolate was set into his hands, he held it before him, enjoying the warmth that spread through his fingers at the touch. He once again took a look around. It always amazed him how little people knew about how close the world came every day to global chaos and mayhem. Nick took a long sip from his mug, relishing the taste.

Ahh, bliss.


± ± ±