News and Old Tales (Geronimo Stilton fanfiction)

7

New Mouse City, 2023

Simon's last run-in with Stilton had been peculiar to say the least. Since then, Sally had constantly been nagging him to find out more about their rival's little fainting episodes. She probably hoped that he would uncover something that she would be able to hold against Geronimo. However, Simon did not feel all too inclined to do that. Quite frankly, he had grown tired of being Sally's puppet and aiding her with her petty schemes. All he wanted to do was to conduct interviews, report on events and write articles. Besides, he could not have been less interested in Stilton's medical history.

Simon was taking notes on what Margaret Almondsnout, the party leader of The Democratic Rodents, was saying as she stood on the podium, when he caught sight of that familiar green suit combined with a red tie in the crowd. To his horror, the owner of those garments was making his way, or rather, stumbling, towards him. Simon regarded his rival with an apprehensive glance, noting that he looked white as a sheet.

"You gonna faint, Stilton?" Simon then gritted out, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the other participants of the press conference. "Should I get someone for you?"

Geronimo shook his head, then grabbed the rival journalist's arm with a trembling paw.

"No. Please, Simon... I think... an ambulance...," he stuttered out.

Simon quickly grabbed hold of the other rodent. He did not want to cause a scene if Stilton fell over because his legs had given out, and given his complexion, it seemed that that was not entirely improbable.

"'Course, Stilton," Simon said, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Then, he looked deep into the other journalist's eyes. It was clear that he was not faking it, and besides, Stilton was far too righteous a rodent to try tricks like that. The only thing Simon hoped to get out of gazing at him so intently was some kind of understanding of what exactly was happening.

"But is it really that bad?" he asked.

However, he did not get any answer from Geronimo, as the mouse merely stared in front of him with an unfocused gaze before he collapsed in Simon's arms.

Simon pressed his mouth into a thin line and let out a deep sigh.

"Stilton. Stilton!" he called then, backhanding his rival gently.

No response.

"Stilton," Simon growled under his breath, "Why do you need the paramedics now? Why is this time different from the last one?"

Then, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling, sighing exasperatedly once again. "Why is it always me?" he questioned as he dialed the emergency number.

"Please, don't die," he then told the unconscious journalist as he waited for the call to connect, "Your sister will kill me if you do."