By AngloFalcon

How to save a life

The waiting room was closing in. Its four walls only compressed the tension and the worry down onto him. His footfalls created a soft patting sound, the only noise to be heard in the room.

How is she?

His mind was an electric storm of questions and uncertainties. He had tried sitting, standing, pacing and even reading one of the cheap, outdated magazines which littered the central coffee table. Nothing calmed the waves or quietened the storm. The tempest refused to be quelled.

He walked to the window, staring out at the grey blanket which now divided the world below from the life-giving sunshine beyond that veil. Cars fired along roadways like mice in a maze. He could make out the figures of animals walking the streets, children's toys in the playset they called the City of Possibilities. Everyone had a shot at life and no one could tell you what couldn't be done. The limits were set by yourself and if you swerved from the road before reaching the finish line, you had no one to blame but your own inadequacy. He had swerved years ago, a castoff with no value or future.

She had changed that.

His winter had thawed, giving way to the gentle promise of spring. The first rays were nothing more than hints and promises. After so many years of chill, he had been afraid to trust those glimpses of real life or take them as anything more than the idle dreaming of a broken spirit. He had once heard that all animals, no matter how much happiness they presented to the world, secretly lived lives of quiet desperation. He had almost begun to forget that his warm and vibrant dreams were merely covered by a thin layer of fear and uncertainty. With sincere words or the kind touch of a friend, those aspirations could be reawakened.

She had provided the spark.

The first smile had broken through his walls. Her face had shown none of the pretense or scarcely suppressed distrust which had greeted him daily for over twelve years. At first, he had hidden his thoughts. The barely acknowledged hope that perhaps here, finally, was a friend who would accept him for who and what he was had been too dangerous to voice. He had made his best attempt at indifference. Throughout their first hours together, he was sure she recognised little in him beyond a sly fox with a cynical perspective on the world. Her opposite. Maybe her enemy. The words had even come from her own lips. 'Lowlife', she had called him, moments before they both found themselves in the same peril at the hands of a crime lord's thugs. He had maintained the philosophy by which he lived and had refused to let her see that she got to him, that the words spoken as a way to put him in his place had cut further than she could have anticipated. Even now, she probably didn't realise that her words had hurt him so deeply. Hurt him because they were true.

But she had changed him before he even knew the change was happening. They had faced death together twice in the space of a matter of hours. Although it was because of her that he had found himself in peril, both times she was the one who had saved him.

Then it happened.

A shudder crept down him as he remembered the look on her face when an overbearing buffalo had tried to crush her dreams. She had been afraid. Torn. Worst of all, she had looked like she finally realised that the fox had been right all along with his pessimism and jibes. She never would be a real cop. He couldn't let that happen. He had seen his childhood replayed, a scene from years passed performed anew with different actors. After only a scant few seconds thought, he had placed himself on the line for her. Sworn to see her through her trials. He would bring her closer to her dreams. He delivered too. Within hours, she was the most talked about cop in the whole of Zootopia. She had returned the favour. She had offered for him to become her partner, leaving the life he had followed for more than a decade behind him forever. At that moment, he felt saved.

The door swung open and a sheep in a nurse's outfit clomped through the room, never even glancing at the fox by the window. His eyes followed her, heart rising in his chest while the words he so wanted to speak and questions he was desperate to ask caught in his throat. The nurse crossed the room, pulling the far door open and walking out into the brightly lit corridor, hooves squeaking on the floor. The door swung closed slowly while the fox's heart sank down again.

It hadn't all been smooth sailing. There had been a bad misunderstanding between them. She probably had not even realised what she was saying, but her generalised words directed at predators cut through him to the center he usually hid so well. Just moments after he had finally revealed to someone that he, the perfect conman who cared for no one and nothing, actually did care, he was stung. In an instant, he had seen that her respect for him was as thin as the paper he was signing to become her partner. Even that hadn't been enough. He had needed confirmation, giving her a final chance. That's when he saw that she was scared. Scared of him. Scared of what he was. It was only with the keenest effort that he had managed to tell her how disappointed he was in her and leave the building without his pain spilling over more openly. The tears were reserved for the quiet places where either nobody looked or nobody cared.

The next three months had been the most painful of his life. He had drifted, unable to dump the memories of her from his mind. His chest had felt empty. He had realised that it was just as he had feared. Believing in those rays of spring light had been like falling for a mirage. Life had nothing to offer except what you could work from it through the means most appropriate to your species. In his case, cunning, dishonesty and manipulation. But it had been no use. He hadn't been able to go back to his hustling life. She had changed him too much already. It was worse than before. Her high values had opened his eyes to the worthlessness of his pursuits, yet her prejudice left him with nothing, a lowlife once again.

It wasn't the end.

The fox smiled as the clouds outside began to disperse, letting light touch the city once more.

Spring had returned with her. She had sought him out and asked for his forgiveness. It was the first time anyone had told him that they were sorry for doubting him. The first time someone had reaffirmed that they believed in him. His heart had opened to her, letting her in as though nothing had disrupted their time together. The next hours had been a blur, excitement and danger taking second place to the happiness of having a friend. A true friend. One he would protect no matter what.

They had succeeded together, winning against those who wanted to harm them. He was given a second chance, breezing through the hardships of academy life by focusing his mind on seeing her again. When the day had come and he stood proud before her, ready to receive from her paws the badge which represented integrity, his heart had been aflame. He, the sly fox without ideals, was choosing a life where he would finally be brave, loyal, true and trustworthy.

Then came the heat of summer. After many a secret thought and unspoken word, he finally began to understand that the impossible had happened. The fox loved the rabbit and the rabbit loved the fox. It was more than friendship. It was a truth declared by the lingering gaze and the warmth he felt as her paw slipped into his for the first time. It was professed by the desperation he felt whenever she was absent and the peace brought on by her return. He knew that if this life was his, he wanted to share it with her until the end.

His thoughts were dispersed by the sound of the door swinging open yet again. Turning, longing for news, the fox saw a racoon approach whose fur was streaked with grey. The doctor's face wore an expression which the fox couldn't interpret.

"Mr. Wilde. Thank you for your-"

"Doctor, please, how is she? I need to know."

The racoon smiled understandingly.

"Be calm. Judy will be fine."

The fox's heart wanted to break through his chest. He longed to be beside her bed, having only agreed to the requests for him to wait outside after repeated insistence from the staff that it would be easier to care for her without him lingering.

A smile burned across the fox's face as the worry, suspense and tension seeped away, leaving only love. Deep, desperate love.

"And Mr. Wilde," the doctor added, catching his eye.

The fox held his breath.

"It's a boy."

Thanks for reading. Please review.

-AF