Chapter 2

What's Past is Past

Chip remembered as though he was there once again, how he'd felt during that time Dale was missing. He and Dale, always prone to squabbling, were getting along uncommonly well and had been for weeks. It was a good thing, him distracted with Foxglove but their friendship strengthened by Dale's renewed interest in cases, Chip's hard won patience, seemed stronger than ever.

But, that morning, Chip had been sleep-deprived and irritated at his best friend. He wondered what Dale had done to give him those formless nightmares he'd had all night. A feeling of unease had plagued Chip all morning, then irritation.

One of Dale's stupid practical jokes, probably, he'd done it before, making noises to disturb Chip's sleep. Really, how immature could that 'munk get?

Later, Chip missed those jokes terribly, that innocent silliness so characteristic of his friend. Without it, life became colorless.

Chip snapped at Dale when the other left but Dale just shrugged in that good-natured way of his. No words, no goodbyes, only a stupid, short remark that Chip couldn't recall, though he remembered and tortured himself with it for days afterward, and there were awful days to come.

Hours past, the sun went down, still more time crept by. The Rangers began searching for their missing member but it seemed that Dale had vanished without a trace.

Chip became frantic, the other Rangers only slightly more calm. The weather turned ugly, rainy and cold. Chip searched even after they were told to wait by everyone they could think to ask. They were told that Dale would turn up, or whatever was happening would reveal it, whether it was a villain holding him hostage, or something similar.

Chip ignored this advice, however. He searched day and night, sometimes the other Rangers accompanied him, sometimes not. They went directly to every villain they thought might have Dale, though no ransom note was delivered, no threats.

Somehow, this fact frightened Chip the most. He had to know his friend's disappearance wasn't some random, senseless thing. He wanted the chance to find Dale, he wanted the reassurance that when something happened to Dale in the past, things always turned out all right, though there had been some close calls.

But nothing, not even from Fat Cat. Or so they thought. The massive cat, it appeared, hadn't been plotting, scheming or thieving lately. Completely out of character for him. He was just quiet, there in his factory.

Hindsight allowed Chip to see that he never had his henchmen around him, something rare for Fat Cat who usually liked to gloat over or torment those smaller and stupider than him. He found out why, too late though.

Chip wondered, too, how he could have been so stupid. He screamed and riled at himself, helpless at what he couldn't change. Yet, none of them, not even him, though Fat Cat could be so cruel.

Four days and finally, Chip guessed, that Fat Cat couldn't contain his gloating any more. After all, by that time the cat thought it was all over.

What the Rangers didn't know was they'd been trailed in their searches for Dale, that the villain had taken advantage of their distracted state. He'd enjoyed their fear, it was his best revenge, pointless, evil and cruel.

The anger and hate curdled Chip's stomach, another thing that would never leave him. He couldn't let it go, not after what the cat did.

At midnight, possibly for his own sick dramatics, Fat Cat had sent their tail to make contact. He had never sent anyone directly to their tree house before, and the Rangers were unprepared for any intruders. Yet, the contact wasn't exactly dangerous. Mole.

Too stupid to understand what was really going on, only acting on his boss' instructions, he produced the bait. Dale's shirt, ripped and bloody.

The horrible feeling that went through Chip was indescribable, as he looked at it. Monty was barely restraining himself and Gadget had collapsed into a chair, shaking badly, Zipper buzzing over her.

But Chip just stood there, staring at the remnant of his friend and trying to tell himself that his worst fears were wrong.

"Uh, um yeah, uh, Fat Cat, he tol' me that he's, uh, he's had, your um, disgustin' rodent, uh friend, yeah that's it." The malicious words sounded strange with Mole's flat nasal voice.

He scratched his head, trying to recall the rest of the message. "He, he uh says it, uh, don't matter, Fat Cat, does, the uh, friend?" Mole shook Dale's shirt and Chip felt his stomach bottom out. "Yeah, uh, the friend, he's dead."

At the time, Chip wondered why things seemed so quiet, especially with the utter chaos surrounding him, Monty throttling Mole and Gadget sobbing terribly.

He was frozen, but the scream of agony in his head echoed on and on. Before he realized what he was doing, he bolted out the door, running, away from Gadget crying out his name, away from those terrible lying words still hanging in the air.

He didn't know how he got anywhere in that state or what he thought he was doing but, suddenly, he was at Fat Cat's headquarters.

Shockingly, Fat Cat's henchmen simply let him pass, acting Chip now knew, on their boss' orders. He didn't care then or now.

He walked into Fat Cat's office and though the massive cat stared him down coldly, he didn't flinch or back away. There was silence for a time, then Fat Cat drawled out in a bored, arrogant voice, "Can I help you with something, vermin?"

Chip felt a rush of hatred so strong he couldn't see, couldn't focus. It might have shown on his fact because even Fat Cat took a step back, unnerved.

The cat didn't understand concepts like love, loyalty and friendship, not like Chip did. He didn't recognize it except in his own, twisted way.

"Where is he?" Chip didn't recognize his own voice. Fat Cat didn't answer right away but, finally, with a toothy, grotesque smile he said, "In cold storage."

"Why?" Chip gasped out, that one word not even coming close to the onslaught of emotions that hit him. "Why!" He said again, screaming the word now.

Again, Fat Cat took his time, a manic gleam growing in his slit eyes. "Revenge, rodent. You see, all of my brilliant plans in ruins, humiliation, devastation, everything I have had to endure, I have done so at your miserable little group's doing." Fat Cat was snarling, spitting with hate.

"Trying to destroy all of you at once always seems to backfire and trying to use one against the other, well, never quite has the ending I wish, with at least one ridiculous Ranger dead and gone, so, I came up with my most brilliant plan yet."

"I picked one of you, and not just any one, no, I made my choice well. One who was vulnerable, whom my henchmen recognized easily, whom would unravel your little group's dynamic so easily, quite brilliant, yes, if I do say so myself. Yet, I needed one more essential ingredient that, I'll admit, I did not possess before. I did not see its virtues in my long-term plans. But I do now, and it made all of the difference."

Fat Cat leaned over Chip, fangs gleaming and the chipmunk was shaking with rage and pain. "Patience, Ranger. Patience makes all of the difference."

Fat Cat clapped his paws together in glee before standing up, his face dead pan again. "Follow."

Chip had no choice but to do so. He followed Fat Cat through the cat food factory, now very familiar to him, free of henchmen escort surprisingly enough.

He went through a passage way usually blocked off and there, in the back of that building that Chip though he knew every nook and cranny off, Fat Cat stopped.

He stopped in front of a heavy, steel door, with the handle coming to just above the chipmunk's head. Chip felt bile rise up in his throat as he recognized what this was.

"He's quite the resilient fellow, " Fat Cat said conversationally, "I expected him to go after a much shorter time, he doesn't seem the type to last longer than a day or so. Still, surprises, surprises, and I'm quite grateful, it made it so much more fun, instead of everything ending all at once. He proved so difficult at one point that my underlings helped speed up the process."

Fat Cat flashed his claws and before Chip could react, he grabbed the chipmunk, holding him up to an iced, foggy window at the cat's eye-level.

What Chip saw nearly made him vomit. An iced lump of brown fur lay huddled close to the door, unmoving.

Dried, frozen blood streaked through the fur. Dale was unrecognizable, curled up so tightly in a ball. Chip knew he'd done it in a last attempt to stay warm.

"We brought him out when he started to fade, putting him back over and over. It was more fun to stretch it out, make the rodent suffer. Near the end, he kept clawing at the door, moaning for another one of your pitiful group to help him. Chip, that was one name I heard, mainly. I assume that's you?"

Chip was turned to face the cat, who was smiling a cold, evil grin. Of course the villain knew Chip, he'd planned it this way, as the cat said, he knew just how to hurt them the worst, going for someone unexpected, yet vulnerable just the same.

He had hurt, killed, NO! Chip wouldn't accept that. He looked at Fat Cat's evil face and a lifetime of memories flashed in his mind, nearly all of them had Dale, Chip's friend his entire life, and now…

Chip lost all control. He chomped down on Fat Cat's paw as hard as he could, tasting blood, breaking bone. Fat Cat screamed in pain but Chip knew it was nothing compared to how the cat would feel if Dale…but no, Chip couldn't think on that just yet.

He leaped up, surprising himself with his own adrenaline, and pulled hard on the door handle, heaving with all the strength he had.

The door eased open and a frigid wind hit him just as a sharp pain lanced through his back.

Fat Cat, his face livid, had swiped at him with razor-sharp claws, catching his back, though Chip was well protected by his leather bomber. The cat's paw, Chip saw with satisfaction, was bloody and black and blue, looking exceptionally painful.

Chip lithely ducked as Fat Cat swiped at him again, before sinking his teeth into Fat Cat's hind paw. Another scream of pain but Chip ignored it, focused on one task.

He pushed through the open door and grabbed the frozen, beaten body of his oldest and best friend. Chip's mind was screaming at him in horror, taking in Dale's appearance. He ignored it, he had to.

Dale was frighteningly light, not at all like his slightly tubby, food-loving friend. He remained completely still.

Chip, not realizing anything but getting his friend to safety, ran as though hell itself was at his heels. He ran and ran, and kept running when the rain started again. He had to get somewhere, anywhere safe.

He reached the edge of the park where the Rangers lived in an amazing amount of time, unpursued by anything. Yet, the icy stillness had not left Dale. He didn't make a sound or move a muscle.

Chip felt frozen himself, knowing what he still had to do. He brushed Dale's front hair back, feeling his forehead. Chip's paw was shaking like mad, Dale felt like ice and remained curled in that tiny ball.

Chip summoned up his courage and knelt down to see the rise and fall of Dale's chest, it anything was still left to see. For a long, long time, while Chip held his own breath, there was nothing. Then, Chip saw a tiny rise and fall, one shallow breath, followed by another, slightly deeper.

He jumped up, whooping in momentary joy. "Chip?" He whirled around to see Gadget, her face white and an out of breath Monty with an unconscious Mole flung over his shoulder.

Gadget's eyes strayed over to Dale's prone form. "Oh, my…no! Dale!" She rushed over and Chip felt a surge of relief. Gadget would know what to do, Dale would be all right now, and things would be okay.

But a small voice in Chip's head forced him to observe how still Dale was, his friend's erratic breathing and malnutrition.

"Chipper?" Chip didn't take his eyes off of Dale. "Chip, blimey mate, you, you look like seven shades, but you did it?" Chip nodded, feeling a lump in his throat, choking him.

"Knew you would." Monty said quietly. Gadget turned to look at Chip and her face was grave. Chip felt the strain and worry of the past few days gain up on him, seeing the hopelessness in those blue eyes. He felt tears slip down his cheeks.

But it was all right, Dale was finally safe and Fat Cat would pay.