Chapter Text
(Christmas in Storyland)
Jiffy knew that something was wrong the second she woke up and heard it. Or rather, the complete lack of it. Dilly-Dally wasn’t singing. And he hardly ever stopped singing and telling himself stories while he worked.
She knew she had upset him quite a bit earlier by shouting at him when she’d caught him dilly-dallying again, but that had been at least an hour ago, if not more. It didn’t usually take him this long to bounce back and start singing again; he hated working in silence.
She got out of her chair, on full alert now, listening carefully. She could still hear the machinery whirring and there was a soft bump bump bump noise coming from somewhere, but there was still a conspicuous lack of singing. She supposed he could simply have paused for a moment, coinciding with her waking, but that seemed unlikely. Plus, she was feeling a deep sense of unease, a feeling she felt so infrequently that she couldn’t dismiss it.
Taking a deep breath, Jiffy stepped out of her office and across the hall to the huge factory plant where most of their actual work happened. At first glance, nothing was wrong. The machines appeared to be working properly, none of the alarms were screaming, nothing was smoking. The only thing awry was Dilly-Dally himself, of whom there was no sign.
Jiffy frowned and automatically stood on her tiptoes to look around, as if that would have helped her to spot him. She knew it was pointless though; Dilly was quite tall for an elf, and she would have been able to see him easily if he was indeed there.
With no other option, she started searching, trying to swallow down her growing sense of dread. She briefly wondered if the other elf was hiding from her, or off sulking somewhere after his scolding, but he wasn’t really the sulking type. It was also reasonable to think that he may have just stepped out for a break. Jiffy would be the first to admit that her little branch was severely understaffed, and that the amount of work Dilly shouldered every day was more than the average elf would be expected to do in a week. She helped out when she could, but she had her own immense workload and couldn't often afford to give up her time.
(She would also be the first to admit that the younger elf did a remarkable job with a wonderfully cheerful attitude, and she had only heard him complain about his workload once. Jiffy had tried to hire in more helpers after that, since Dilly-Dally so rarely complained, but the Powers That Be had been most unhelpful and she’d ended up giving up. She was also aware that shouting at him when he took his time on things wasn’t exactly fair either, and she always felt bad about it afterwards, but the fact was they had a lot of work between them and they really couldn’t afford to dawdle.)
She couldn’t help but hope he’d just taken a break. That, however, would have meant leaving the machines unattended, and that was something that Dilly-Dally would never do. He rarely took breaks anyway, aside from dilly-dallying when on his deliveries, and he always came to inform her on the rare occasions that he did decide he needed to take a moment. Him suddenly being completely absent just wasn’t normal.
She called his name and was rather alarmed to find a lump in her throat. She swallowed heavily, realising she was on the edge of panic, and forcibly pulled herself together. She had to stay calm and collected if she wanted to solve this mystery. She called again, this time injecting her normal authority into her voice. If Dilly-Dally was nearby, he’d come. He never ignored her call.
But there was nothing. Nothing to suggest that the other elf was anywhere around. He’d vanished.
Jiffy started to panic now. She moved faster between the machines, wishing she could shut her ears against the sounds from the machines that suddenly seemed too loud and added to her distress. Among them, she could hear the bump bump bump from earlier, and it was putting her particularly on edge. She didn’t know why, but it made her want to tear her hair out or do something equally dramatic. She did her best to dismiss it – all the machines made noises like that sometimes – but she was helplessly zeroed in on it and she found herself being dragged towards it, her heart dropping like a stone in her chest-
The scream that came out of her moments later was so shrill and powerful that it hurt. But Jiffy didn’t stop, instead rushing to slam the Emergency Stop button on the Wrapping Machine before grabbing hold of the long legs that were sticking out of it. The bump bump bump of the empty paper roller as it turned over and over, ground to a merciful halt and finally fell silent, but Jiffy didn’t notice, her focus completely on Dilly-Dally. He wasn’t moving.
How long had he been trapped in there?? Long enough to have been tightly wrapped from the waist up, his arms pinned to his sides, that much was obvious. Long enough for the industrial-size roll of wrapping paper to run out, long enough for the elf to be rendered silent.
Jiffy nearly sobbed as she struggled to pull him out, cursing herself for falling asleep that afternoon and not paying attention. Maybe if she had been...
He must have been terrified, finding himself stuck headfirst in a position that he couldn't escape from alone. Had he been crying out for her? She wouldn't have known if he had... Jiffy knew the machines would likely have drowned him out, but if she had been awake, she might have noticed sooner. And to think she’d entertained the idea that he had been sulking...
By some miracle and a sudden burst of strength she didn’t know she had, she managed to finally extricate the young elf from the machine, not caring as she tore through several sheets of expensive wrapping paper to do so. She just managed to avoid falling over backwards from the force at which he came free, and hurriedly laid him on the ground, rushing to tear away the paper from his face and upper body.
He was already gone, she could tell immediately. His skin was icy to the touch, his face was blue and swollen, there was blood coming out of his ears, and his eyes – his beautiful blue eyes – were bloodshot and glassy and empty. And when she paused to check, there was no pulse. It was already clear that he’d suffocated.
Even so, she pumped desperately on his chest, keeping in rhythm as she’d been taught, helplessly hoping she could revive him still. Her hands were shaking, and the tears were starting to escape, but still she tried. She heard one of his ribs crack but she didn’t stop; didn’t they say not to cease CPR even if the casualty sustained a broken rib?
Eventually though, Jiffy was forced to admit defeat. Her arms were far too tired, and the adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving her useless and exhausted. She looked upon the damaged face of her young co-worker – no, her friend – and reached out a hand to carefully close his staring eyes. Her finger lingered for a second on his cheek, and she leant down to place a kiss on his forehead.
And then she broke down. The floodgates opened and she buried her face in Dilly-Dally's chest, sobbing without restraint, completely and utterly devastated.
She was too late.
She could only hope he hadn’t suffered for long.