Work Text:
“MK,” Nic says. He’s stepped forwards, bracing one hand on his thigh as if that’s going to stop him from falling if the ground underneath him shifts. What -- what is --
Oh shit, he’s saying that out loud. “What is --” he repeats.
“Nicodemus Silver,” MK says, in her least patient voice. “Use your words. I’m not there with you and have no idea what you’re looking at, remember?”
Nic rocks back onto his heels and sighs into his phone. “Really, MK?” he says. “You don’t have little night vision cameras installed in my clothes, or a bug in every tree, or...”
“I’m not the fed in this working partnership,” MK says, and hangs up.
Honestly, she lasted longer this time than Nic thought she would. He sighs and snaps out a fresh pair of gloves from his back pocket. He might not know what the evidence is. But he can still collect it.
---
MK isn’t even Nic’s partner in (solving) crime. But it feels like it sometimes. Nic’s been sent up to the Pacific Northwest with his favourite colleague Alex, but they’re stretched thin across a couple of ongoing assignments and half the time it feels like it’s just him and his dubious hacker/informant against the world.
“Dude, I’m pretty sure that’s just a mushroom,” MK is saying, as Nic carefully dangles the little plastic bag in front of the webcam. “Probably real potent. You might have to turn yourself in for possession.”
“Huh?” Nic says, intelligently. In his defense, it’s midnight and he’s just spent hours poking around in a forest in the dark.
“Drugs ,” MK says. “Mushrooms .”
“It was glowing,” Nic says. “That’s why...” he pulls out his phone, finds the blurry photo he took of it, and sends it to MK. “That’s why I collected it. But I guess I killed it.”
“It’s not going to glow under fluorescent light, dummy.”
MK is always going on and on about Nic being a fed and everything. A fact that he’s never confirmed and has often denied, but whatever, they both know it’s true. But the thing is that no matter which agency he’s being loaned out to?
The hotels suck .
Someone hammers on his door, and Nic’s soul almost jumps out of his body in fright. “Shh,” he says, and pushes his laptop half closed.
MK enjoys being contrary and also worries too much, so she ignores his warning and says, “What is it?”
“Nic! Vodka party in my room in five minutes. I’ve got news.”
Now that? That is the voice of Nic’s actual work partner. It sounds like Alex has returned from... whatever Alex has been doing. In Nic’s further defense, she is really hard to keep track of. Unless he gets worried and asks MK to give him the creepy creepy tracking data she has on literally everybody. “Let’s speak tomorrow,” Nic says, and for once he gets to end the call.
He knows MK is going to bill him extra for it, but he doesn’t care.
---
“I think I might be dying,” Nic says, thoughtfully. Except it comes out more like “Mmrrgghh.”
“What’s that?” Alex says. Nic has woken up, face-down on Alex’s hotel bed. He’s the wrong way up, which explains the horrible crick in his neck. And Alex’s alarm clock... is set to her NPR playlist.
Alex has woken up before her alarm, but Alex sleeps famously badly and Nic maybe doesn’t want to mention it when she is so manifestly better off than he is. On the other hand. “You’re still drunk,” he says, once he manages to peel himself off her bed. “That’s the only reason why you’d be this unaffected and un-hungover right now.”
Alex pats him on the cheek and hands him a post-it note. “That’s your lead,” she says. “You’re welcome. Later!”
She pushes him out of the door while Ira Glass is talking about driving all night and Nic is tired and -- he puts a hand in his back pocket. He totally does have his room key. Okay, he can do this. He can do his super-important work stuff. He just needs to shower and get dressed and eat like, two hotel breakfasts. Then it's time to roll.
---
Nic’s squinting at the post-it note from underneath his sunglasses (one of the perks of being a fed: cool sunglasses). He can’t make out the name. But this is definitely the right address... and Alex has written some very helpful notes about exactly why this guy’s a good lead. Dead brother... lots of amateur surveillance tapes... he’s looking to offload them...
Nic knocks on the door. After a minute, a guy answers. He’s slight, with dark chestnut hair, and when he sees Nic he gets a massive grin on his face. “Oh cool, you’re Alex’s colleague?”
“Yes,” Nic says, mildly discomfited. “Uh, she said you have some material relating to strange phenomena in the forest?” In the cold light of day, MK is right: that does not sound awesome. Nic needs to think of a better way to introduce the topic.
“Yeah, yeah,” the guy says, and scratches his head.
“I’m Nic,” Nic says, helpfully. He glances down at the post-it again. “Uh, are you... Geoff?”
“That’s me!” Geoff says. “Yep, I'm Geoff. Why don’t you come on in?”
---
It’s like 10am, but Geoff gives Nic a beer and takes him up to the loft conversion, which is set up like... Nic doesn’t even know. Some kind of observation station. There are loads and loads of dried mushrooms, sketches, photographs, cameras... reels and reels of videotape, journals, and piles and piles of other stuff. “I didn’t ask many questions, you know?” Geoff says. The house is pretty remote, and he points out from the north window to a copse of trees across the yard. Nic’s pretty sure this is an entrance to the same forest he’s been working in, a couple miles up the road.
“This is where...?” Nic trails off.
Geoff gives him a thumbs up. "Yeah, this is his weirdo archive," he says. "And he picked the loft because of that view, I'm pretty sure."
“Great!” Nic says. “Uh, do you mind if I take a look at...” he searches for the right word. “The material?”
Geoff shrugs. “Yeah, go for it,” he says.
Geoff doesn’t leave Nic to it, though. He sits in the corner (on like, the only chair in the room, but he does give Nic a cushion) and slowly drinks a beer. He asks Nic a lot of questions, but mostly keeps quiet if Nic has headphones on, or whatever.
Around 2pm, Nic sends MK a message. No, no, he doesn’t text her. He uses Telegram. She spent like, six months teaching him about that. She replies scarily quickly, like she always does. What had she said, every time she yelled at him about it? That's right. "You’re the fed, you should know this stuff."
Nic: I’m not dead. Just engrossed in some material that’s come up. Let’s speak this evening?
Meerkatnip: Oh my god. “Material”. Could you be more vague, please?
Nic: I’m going to call you at 7. Be there.
Meerkatnip: Ugh. Fine.
Of course, that’s not how it happens. That’s never how it happens. MK calls Nic when she chooses, and usually? Usually he’s happy about it.
---
“I still think it’s drugs,” MK says.
“Maybe it is,” Nic says. “What, you want me to just eat this glowing mushroom I found in the forest? You think I’m totally irresponsible?”
“Nic, there is no way you haven’t at least tasted that mushroom. Which is a dick move, by the way, but I guess I’m not there to stop you.”
“Why’s it a dick move?”
“If you die, who’s going to pay off my last invoice, Nic?”
Ugh, fine. “Yes, I tasted the mushroom. You win.”
“How did it taste? Hallucinations?”
“Dirty. No. But maybe it’s supposed to be dried. Or --”
MK sighs. It’s late. “You’re going to have to do better than nibbling on this mushroom didn’t make me hallucinate before I start to believe in your paranormal conspiracy theories, Nic. Which agency you with, anyway?”
Nic doesn’t answer that. He can’t answer that. And the mushrooms might be drugs, he’s willing to admit that, but that’s not all there is.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, MK.”
---
Nic is trying to interview Geoff about his brother, and it’s not going so well. He can’t tell if he’s trying to help but doesn’t know anything, or if something else is going on.
“Another beer?” Geoff says. Nic is only like, halfway through his second bottle, and he really doesn’t want another one tonight.
“I’m good,” Nic says. Geoff shakes his head but doesn’t really disagree.
“So you’re new in town,” Geoff says, and leans in. “You seen all the sights?”
“Mostly just the forest and my hotel,” Nic says. “I’m not very cosmopolitan.”
“Sure you are,” Geoff says. He very transparently looks Nic up and down. "If you ever get creeped out by anything in town, give me a call. I can help you explore. I only moved back recently..."
Nic was never very good at picking on it if someone was flirting with him. OK, he’s relatively single-minded and he’s really dedicated to his work, and --
Right now, he’s half wondering if Geoff Van Sant is flirting with him, and half wondering if he’s about to induct him into some kind of murder cult.
---
“All the sights” turns out to mean, like: a rusting fairground, a coffee shop that used to be a Starbucks but has turned independent after Starbucks pulled out , a charity bookstore, the town hall/post office/general store, and the all-night diner that Nic has eaten at a few times when the hotel weren’t doing room service.
They end up in the diner a few days later. It’s late, and Nic can’t get the slight stain of green out of his fingers from an afternoon spent hunting glowing mushrooms and attendant monsters and people in the forest. He orders a pot of coffee and three different slices of pie.
“Wow,” Geoff says when he arrives. Nic pushes one of the slices towards him, but Geoff waves him off and orders a serving of curly fries and chicken fingers. But he does take a coffee. It’s the first time Nic has seen him drinking something other than beer.
Nic tells him about the mushrooms, and various other things he found in the forest. He’s worked out that Geoff thinks he’s some kind of botanist. Wait, is that the word? Shit, Nic should work that out, in case he gets called on it. Funghi specialist? Mushroom hunter? Deathcap specialist? Truffle academic?
Anyway, he’s almost let his guard down, and he’s waving his arms and he’s talking animatedly about this ring of toadstools he found. MK has a whole bunch of photos (taken during daytime and nighttime, thank you) and is meant to be getting back to him anytime now to discuss the like, patterning and symbolism, but Nic can’t stop wondering.
And Nic loves wondering out loud. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he says. “Not even in your brother’s cache of photos. Do you think he was working on something like this?”
A look crosses Geoff’s face. Nic’s not sure what it means. “I don’t know,” Geoff says. Then he leans forward. “Let’s go take a look at something.”
Nic gets into Geoff’s car. He leaves his rental in the diner carpark. He messages MK:
Meerkatnip: Cool way to get murdered.
Meerkatnip: Please let me know if you die.
Nic rolls his eyes at his phone, as if MK can see that (she probably can). It’s nice to have friends who care.
---
“Oh, wow,” Nic says. He starts taking photos and is super engrossed in it, and it takes him probably way too long to realise that Geoff. Geoff isn’t like, saying anything? Or explaining?
Nic looks up at him. Geoff is watching him with a weird expression on his face. “How did you know this was here?” It’s like, some kind of mushroom camp. Nic has never seen anything -- anything like it. It’s like the remnants of some shamanic mushroom cult. Nic has been reading up on mythology of mushrooms and folklore of this area, but...
“Come on, don’t make me answer that.”
“Geoff?” Nic says.
Geoff groans. “Sure,” he says. Nic doesn’t know what to say. “This is hard for me,” Geoff says. “You know, I really am trying to help.”
“Okay,” Nic says. This awkward coffee-and-catch-up in the all-night diner has not turned out like he was expecting?
---
Nic: I’m camping with Geoff
Nic: tell me I’m making a good choice here.
Meerkatnip: (popcorn.gif)
Meerkatnip: keep me updated on your not-murdered/murdered status.
Nic: you are a good friend and i don't deserve you
Meerkatnip: okay, now you're scaring me
Nic: you're right, sarcasm doesn't carry over text.
---
They don’t actually sleep. Geoff says it’s important to spend the night in the clearing. Nic isn’t sure what he means by this, but he’s tired and confused and --- Geoff gets blankets out from his car. It’s not even fall yet but it’s kind of cold and wet because... it’s the Pacific Northwest.
“Shh,” Geoff says. Nic wasn’t making any noise. But then he can hear it. Nearby is a big tree. He rolls onto his side and presses his left ear to it. He can hear something. But...
There are no words. But he stays put for a long time. Listening. Just listening to wordless noise. Learning. Breathing. Staining his knees and hands and ear -- green. Just green.
---
Nic isn’t sure how long they’re there. His phone doesn’t die, but time seems to slow down. At one point, he starts to shiver, and Geoff scoots closer. “I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing,” Geoff says. It’s like he’s confessing something. "I don't know if I should be showing you this, or if you're going to think I'm nuts."
“It’s okay,” Nic says. He has no idea if it’s okay. Geoff smells like pine and cigarettes and malt.
“You would say that,” Geoff says, and he touches Nic’s face. Okay, Nic thinks. He hopes this is an answer.
Soon, the sky starts to bloom with morning. And the trees begin to sing.