"Alright, take a deep breath…there you go. Let it out slowly. Your arm is going to feel a little tight now, m'kay?"
"Mhm."
Nick slowly felt a band squeeze his right arm, clutching it tight enough to where he could feel his own pulse echo throughout the limb. These thumps coursed their way around his arm, delivering ounces upon ounces of freshly synthesized blood, most of which was likely prepared by his body within the past several hours. Almost like they were mimicking sound waves, the pulses rattled their way through his arteries and returned through his veins milliseconds later.
Thanks to his body flushing out the substitute while trying to replenish itself with plenty of fresh blood, Nick was quite deprived him of energy that morning. It made him feel like he was progressively getting worse as the day dragged on. He couldn't compare the sensation to anything he'd experienced before. His stiff hands felt like nothing but two balloons, permeated with warm, moist, and sticky air that would not escape. His forehead felt like a blast furnace that was also trying mimic a sponge; despite his body draining its reserves of sweat, an ongoing fever would continue to encase him. An additional side effect of the blood substitute was how it seemed to resemble a powerful and corrosive acid that was slowly feasting away at his blood vessels and his heart. Although he was told that these were just the common side effects, Nick still felt like he was slowly dissolving into a futile heap of flesh and bones.
Once the pressure on his arm was finally released, Nick remembered that he felt – and probably looked like – some sort of rag doll. Voodoo doll, as a matter of fact. Some evil witch, probably hiding in obscurity thousands of miles away, chose him as the victim of some cruel and unusual punishment involving supernatural and magical alchemy: threading red-hot needles through his carcass while simultaneously dribbling sulfuric acid on his head and limbs. Frankly, Nick would not be surprised if this necromancer was broiling the doll in thick, musky, hissing, black tar. Yes…That would explain everything. The irrational thought was followed by a wave of self-criticism. But what else was Nick supposed to think about? Getting caught up on paperwork, just as Judy joked? He glanced over at the folder sitting on the nightstand…the folder he still had yet to open.
Lying on the spacious and slightly uncomfortable mattress, he contemplated the possibility that he was decomposing in his death bed.
"…Andy? Err-Andrea. Sorry. So, wot's…Uh the deal? Because I'd be lying if I told you right now I wasn't making my way down to Hell and back."
Marking down a few more readings alongside her notes on a clipboard, Andrea was too distracted to even acknowledge him.
"Um, hello?"
"What? Oh, sorry. I wasn't paying attention. What's up?"
"Just curious, what's my status quo? Is there any idea on when I'm die? Or will I walk out of here a free mammal?"
Andrea chuckled. "Well, I know that you will walk out of here as a free mammal, it's just hard to say when. I've talked with some of the doctors, and we're going to run another x-ray on your head to confirm that you have depressed skull fracture. When we ran it the first time, it was a little difficult to tell. If you do have the fracture, then we may have to put you in the hands of the surgeon. Because with these types of fractures, they can cause a buildup of pressure in the brain. No good."
"Shit…He really hit me that hard? With just a water bottle?"
"Yeah, I thought it was just as absurd when we got the call. He definitely seems like a tough guy if he was able to do that."
"Did anyone ever find out why he did it? I've always known the Chief as a guy with more bark than bite. Doing something like this…It's surprising."
Andrea walked over to the bedside and rested the mysterious folder on Nick's abdomen. "From what the concierge told me, he scrapped this together to explain why. But that's all I know."
"Yeah, I plan to look at it with my friend Judy when she gets back."
"Judy's the…Rabbit, right?"
"Yes ma'am. She's quite a special one, indeed."
Andrea let out a charismatic chuckle. "Well, special is right. I'm no expert, but she definitely cares about you. She was practically on her knees last night, begging to spend the night in here, despite campus policy not allowing it. It took an awful lot convincing for me to keep her here."
"Jeez…"
"Jeez is right," remarked Andrea while filling a syringe with a colorless, runny liquid. Nick grew uneasy upon the sight of it.
"W…What is that?" he stuttered.
"This? This is called hydralazine, a drug which will control your blood pressure. It looked a bit high when I measured it, so I'm just going to inject this to drain the pressure out of your system. Chances are you'll feel a bit better. Take a deep breath…exhale."
Without much more of a warning, a needle penetrated Nick's left arm, causing it to tighten up. The soreness that had already accumulated in his muscles caused the injection to be much more painful than he anticipated. Nick did his best, however, to mask the pain behind his seasoned poker face.
Andrea dabbed the injection site with some alcohol and set aside the medical tools.
"Well, this is just me, but based on what I've seen with you and her, she's definitely a keeper." Before giving a farewell nod, she stretched the top of his head.
"You think so?"
"I know so."
Her observations warmed up Nick's heart.
"I'll see you around, Nick. Probably late tonight when I report for my night shift. The medicine should kick in within the hour. If not, then the doc will give you some painkillers. Hang in there, and I guess I'll see you later!
"Bye, now!"
And with that exchange, Andrea waltzed out of Nick's room, leaving the space all for himself. He glanced at the folder in front of him. Just looking at it recalled several memories of his mischievous childhood life, specifically one instance on a Christmas morning about twenty years ago.
Foxes are sneaky, sly creatures. They know how to camouflage, sneak, and stalk. That very morning, Nick used his evolutionary skills to glide his way to the ornamented tree, investigating the presents that his mother gave him that year. But thanks to a case of bad timing, his mother followed him downstairs and caught him red-pawed before he could get his hands on the gifts. And like his gut instincts that morning, Nick's gut was screaming at him to not take a sneak peek at the folder. Thankfully, a case of good timing prevented him from being sneaky.
"Hey, I'm back!" yelled a sugar-lipped Judy as she barged into his room. The cargo she was carrying in her hands did not reflect the hour and a half that she spent to get it, however. In her left hand was a hot drink suspended on a carrier, whereas in her right hand was a paper bag, hiding what must have been some foodstuffs. Glancing at the printed ink on the bag, Nick saw the indistinguishable emblem of one of the city's most well-respected cafés:
Yakity-Yak.
Nick's curiosity was now redirected towards Judy, and he disregarded the any suspicion with her.
"Is…Is that-"
"You bet it is! Don't act all surprised. I decided to make this a special occasion! After all you did say that you wanted me to surprise you," she smirked while welcoming herself in.
"But Yakity-Yak…It's in TundraTown…On the opposite side of the city…"
"Yeah, I'm sorry it took so long! But hey, on the bright side, I've got some goodies for you!"
Nick was in disbelief. Not only was Yakity-Yak at least a fifteen-minute drive without traffic (an event as scarce as hen's teeth) one way, but the café had such a defined reputation that the flow of customers caused at least thirty-minute waits. Not to mention that their ridiculously overpriced items were sure to make a dent in a wallet.
"So let me get this straight…You went to quite possibly one of the best food joints in the entire city, navigated your way through Zootopia's traffic while doing so, waited in line for probably a half-hour, and got me-"
"Blueberry-infused ginger tea. And to complement it, a rosemary scone!"
"Shut up!" he said in absolute astonishment.
She delivered the merchandise right before him. To his astonishment, the tea was still quite hot. The coffee cup, latticed and weaved with some fancy papery fiber, somehow insulated the heat throughout her journey. He took a peek of the herbs in the liquid, and was greeted with a steamy aroma of spicy and strong ginger paired with the tartness and tanginess of blueberries. It was unlike anything he has ever sensed. Immediately thereafter, his mouth was flushed with saliva.
The rosemary scone, which also had an indistinguishable scent to its name, brought back memories of the times when his mother would take him on drives through the mountains outside of the city when he was young. Nick could vividly remember sticking his head out the window and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of pine trees that safeguarded the beauty of nature. Coupled with the buttery wheat that gave the delicacy structure and sound, it was one of the most astonishingly beautiful dishes he has ever had the privilege to handle.
"Y-you did this…For me, Carrots?"
"Well, you know," she bashfully mumbled while shuffling her hands about, "I was just in the area…and thought that maybe it was worth a shot!"
"I can't believe it…And you didn't get yourself anything?!"
"Psssh, I treated myself to some kind of carrot-cake flavored coffee, but this trip was primarily about…You!" she exclaimed, poking at his chest, suspiciously close to his heart.
"Carrots…I mean…Thank you. You didn't have to go the extra mile for me, but this is so generous of you! Can…Can I pay you back?"
"Nope! My treat."
"C'mon, at least for gas."
"Nope!"
"Carrots…"
"Nope!"
Despite her sharp and playful rejections, Nick was driven to do something in return, whether she liked it or not. Glancing down at the artisan scone, he formulated an offer that he knew she couldn't refuse. Trying to cushion any crumbs that would scatter about his body, Nick gently split the treat in half, which released even more powerful and saturated aromas.
"Carrots…You haven't eaten anything today, have you?"
Judy glanced at his offering, which was quite tempting. Despite her stomach problems from yesterday, the scone possessed an uncanny quality to it that it seemed too good to be true. Her stomach was begging to digest something; the coffee alone just wasn't going to accomplish anything.
"Nope…"
Nick continued to insist, looking directly into her eyes.
"C'mon, Fluff-Butt! You know you want it…"
"Ugh, Nick, stop it!"
"Judy! If you love me so much that you would make an hour and a half roundtrip just for me, then I want you to treat yourself."
Judy gazed into his eyes, and after taking one last look at the scone, finally collapsed.
"Ah, fine."
She gently and subtly took the food and tried to shove it down her throat as politely as she could; despite her unforeseen hunger, the last thing she wanted to do was to interpret a pig right in front of him.
The two ate in silence, sharing the ideal breakfast of some of the finest cuisine in the city. Of course, the one thing that demoted this meal from being top-notch was the location; a hospital was no place for the pair to guzzle down delicious tea and nibble on a scone.
Despite how wonderful the experience was, Nick couldn't shake the guilty feeling that he felt like he was holding her hostage, no matter how much she wanted to see him. A hospital is where mammals go when they are ill, not where they go to meet up with each other, share food, and spend the night.
"Hey, Judy?"
"Yeah?"
"Look, truly…You don't have to stay here. I'm glad you care so much about me. Like, it truly means a lot," he began while resting his paw on hers, "but you…you need to go home. I shouldn't have you staying in this hospital, despite how obligated you feel. You have places to go, mammals to see…And you sure as Hell can't do that if you stay here until I leave."
Judy's ears dropped behind her back. She wasn't necessarily offended or hurt by what he said, but somehow it left disappointment within her. She took a deep breath, retracting her paw from underneath Nick's and resting it in her lap.
"Can I stay just a little bit longer? Please? There's…There's nothing to do back at my place! There aren't a lot of other friends to visit, my family's not in town, and I don't have work until noon today. Just…just one more hour? Pretty please?"
Nick took sip from his tea, which he noted to be some sort of nectar from the Gods.
"With whipped cream and a cherry on top?" she continued to beg.
"Alright, you win Carrots. One more hour."
Judy sprang up in excitement, with another candy-eyed smile painted on her face.
"So I know what we can do for the next hour…" hinted Nick as he waved the folder in front of Judy.
"Are you sure you want my eyes to see this as well? It sure as heck looks like it was assembled for you only…"
"Ah, to Hell with Bogo. If I'm reading it, then you're reading it with me!" he exclaimed while leaving open the file.
"Well…here goes nothing!" replied a cautiously optimistic yet curious Judy. She walked over to the other side of the bed and redirected the light that Nick pushed aside earlier that morning.
The first items they encountered were some vintage black and white photographs of an unfamiliar buffalo, all held together by an old and rusty paperclip. Most of the photos attached were portraits that exhibited her beauty, of which was awe inspiring for the two. Nick and Judy split the workload while inspecting the photos, looking for anything that Bogo could have wanted them to know. After all, the photos had to be here for a reason.
A general trend that seemed to be tagged with each snapshot was the written date in the lower left-hand corner:
Wednesday, the fourth of January, nineteen sixty-seven.
One photograph, however, at the bottom of the pile, wasn't like any of the others. When Nick revealed it, this buffalo was paired with must have been her…Brother? Friend? Boyfriend? Based on the way they were embracing each other in their arms, how close they were to each other, and how happy they were, it suggested that there was some sort of relationship between her and some other buffalo who looked oddly familiar.
The light that was focused onto the photograph exposed what appeared to be some sort of ink message written on the back. Judy was barely able to see the opaqueness.
"Nick…Turn the photo around."
On the back was a handwritten note in black ink.
Dearest Marie,
I still find it so hard to believe that we have been together for a little over three years! I can still recall the very day I first laid eyes on you like it was just a week ago. You are the love of my life, and that will never change. Your future is going to be just as bright and optimistic as your personality and beauty. I can't wait to see you bloom. Happy eighteenth!
-Justin
"Who is Justin?" asked Nick.
"Your guess is as good as mine…perhaps one of Bogo's friends? Maybe brothers? For some reason, he looks quite familiar to our chief."
Setting aside the mysterious pictures, a much more chilling and gut-wrenching certificate laid before them. The stained, yellowed, and dusty paper revealed what looked like the details of an animal's death. Two sets of eyes casted upon the document, searching for information.
City of Zootopia | Department of Health Services
Certificate of Death
This document certifies that: Marie Jessica Gilmore died on: 01/04/1967 at: Intersection of Cellar & Cornwall. Age of death: 18 yrs., 0 mo., 0 days at approximately: 11:26 P.M. Cause of Death: Traumatic Brain Injury; Vehicle Accident (Loss of Control due to Weather)
Signed: Dr. Nathan Waters, PhD, Jan. 01, '67
"Too young…" mumbled Nick. "Look: the date with these two is the same date as well."
"That's…Horrible…"
"It really is. D-do these photographs…oh goodness…"
Another collage of photographs laid sandwiched between the death certificate and several miscellaneous documents. Unlike the warm and happy photographs that they reviewed earlier, these painted a sharp and dark contrast. These photographs, some of which were captured by a camera with a sloppy palette of unsaturated colors, told a much more tragic story that they could have anticipated on that cold, January day. Despite a hazy shade of winter which obscured the night sky, more than enough light was captured in the pictures to depict such a tragic event.
The first photograph, which was a black and white polaroid, encapsulated the twisted remains of a sedan, which was reduced to coiled and kinked scraps of metal, rearranged into what was barely recognizable as a car. Every window, even the mirrors, was missing, likely transcribed into the thousands upon thousands of shards of glass which splintered cushion seats or was thrown askew into the icy, frozen street. The photo showed the crippled remains of three of the four tires on the car, all of which were either deflated or ripped to shreds. The tires also signaled signs of a mutated axel, one of which looked impossible to repair. The entire car was totaled beyond any physical repair.
The next few photos were much more detailed in showing the true nature of the crash, capturing different perspectives, angles, and faces of the scene. These images, captured by the camera with some dysfunctional color palette, all showed an ominous yet obscure secret; what first looked like oil streaks that could have originated from the engine now had much more vivid and saturated colors embedded within them. A much more brownish-red taint to it, to be specific.
Working as police officers, both Judy and Nick were no strangers to the sight of blood. Crime scenes, domestic assaults, and accident sites like these exposed them to just a part of a day in the life. Nevertheless, the gore would always still be uncomfortable for Judy to look at. Her body and mind, shaped by millions of years of evolution, engraved the idea that blood was never a good sign, whether the source was from herself or any nearby animal. Nick, on the other hand, who evolved to be out hungry for blood, didn't render the photos as very unnerving whatsoever, despite the harsh nature of them.
The blood was warped into various splashes, drops, and streaks all throughout the album. Although it was all concentrated in just one part of the scene, indicating that there was only one victim in the accident, there was enough blood going around to suggest a very violent and gruesome accident. In the driver's seat, droplets of red were scattered about the inside of the car. Seats, doors, and even the ceilings were in the line of fire. The steering wheel, bent almost beyond recognition, seemed to soak up the most of the fluid in the vehicle. The blood was dribbling down the sides of it, and was destined to either navigate its way out of the car into the street, or puddle on the floor of it. The vehicle door, which would have been impossible to open because of the damage it received, was smeared and coated. The victim, which Judy and Nick assumed was Marie, appeared to have dragged herself out of the broken window. If this was the case, then she must have slit open more skin, thus causing more bleeding as she climbed out. Their assumptions were supported by streaks of the fluid that were driveled down the side of the car door. The heaviest concentration of blood was right beside the car door, accumulated in a widespread sea of dark red. The thin blanket of snow that was on the road that evening seemed to amplify the burgundy hues. Small streams would branch out of the source, journeying towards the shoulder of the road and right into the cornfields.
Excluding one frame, in no photograph were there any dead nor alive animals. But in that final still frame, which kissed the paperclip holding the album together, there was a very faint and obscure buffalo lurking in the background. The snowy conditions made it very difficult to point out any distinct features.
"H-hey Jude…" Nick choked out amidst an ongoing battle with a headache.
"What? What is it?"
"Who…Who is that?" he asked while scraping every ounce of energy in his body to point at the shadowy character. The figure appeared to be sitting on the side of the curb, staring off into infinity. No detailed aspects that he possessed could be identified because of the obscurity of the photo. Judy, while investigating the build of the character, noticed similarities to Justin, the other buffalo in this case file.
"Nick…Could you pass me the photograph of…What's his face…Justin?"
Although Nick was showing evident signs of drifting off, he was able to keep his focus and attention on the investigation. Digging through the pile that he set aside, he uncovered the photo of Marie with Justin and promptly handed it to Judy.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Me? Yeah, I'm just really tired. The medicine must be screwing with my sense to think again."
"Strange…I could have sworn the tea I gave you had some sort of caffeine in it…"
"Well, perhaps my dumb little bunny continues to live up to her name!" he joked while nudging her.
Thanks to her focus being directed more on the photograph than Nick's ludicrous remarks, the phrase went through one ear and straight out the other.
"What, you can't take a joke?"
She continued to disregard his comments.
"Hellooooo? Anyone home?"
"Oh, shush, Nick! I'm trying to see who this is…"
"Well, do you think it's this Justin dude?"
"Hard to say…Their two statues look to be pretty similar. Horns, limbs, parts of the face…They all seemed connected in some way. But I just don't know."
"Well, let's think about this for a minute." Nick gently grabbed Judy's paw again.
"When you learned that I ended up in this Hellhole, what was your reaction? How quickly did you get here?"
"Pssh, you kidding? From the time I got the call, I was probably out of my apartment in just a couple minutes. I was so frantic and desperate to make sure you were okay."
"Perhaps do you think that if Justin learned about the accident just after it happened, he would rush over to see what happened? I'd imagine he would try to be there as soon as possible."
Judy's ears flicked up after hearing Nick's argument. Connecting the physical appearances with the timing of his arrival, it would make perfect sense if that was Justin.
"Jeez, Slick Nick! You're on a roll! Alright…What else do we have here?"
Reaching for the stack that continued to lay on Nick's stomach, Judy unintentionally knocked the documents over, and sliding of the bed, everything that was once on his abdomen now laid askew the hospital floor. The two mammals made eye contact after the folder succumbed to gravity.
"What are looking at me for, Carrots? I'm basically crippled, plus you knocked it off. Come on, now, go get it!"
Judy rolled her eyes and waltzed around the bedside to retrieve the scattered documents, which were dispersed across a relatively wide cross-section of the floor. Some made their way halfway across the room, whereas others were mischievous enough to glide right underneath's bed. Retrieving them became a rather hideous chore; simultaneously scanning the room and retrieving the papers from a floor that was probably coated with a layer of hepatitis viruses was rather unpleasant for Judy. After retrieving everything that she could see, the stacked papers were carefully placed where they originally belonged. Out of the corner of his eye, however, Nick saw the corner of one paper sticking out from underneath the nightstand on his left.
"Hey Carrots, you missed one," he said while pointing at it with a shaky and unsteady finger.
Judy spotted the document immediately and hastily went to retrieve it. When she shook off the dust and crumbs that infested it, her eyes were drawn to the handwritten letter. Her curiosity took over, and she slowly began to scan it, interested to see the details closed within. Analyzing just a few lines of the writing conjured up similarities to Bogo's script, and she continued to grow even more curious as to what he was trying to say. But with each word that she processed, shock and delusion overthrew her interest.
"Well? What does it say?"
Judy didn't respond. She simply continued to decipher his sloppy handwriting, growing more and more disavowed at the message he delivered. Her face and knuckles grew pale with each passing second.
"Judy?"
The rabbit was completely anesthetized; too stiff to move a muscle, and too disoriented to think straight. The letter inadvertently slipped out of her hands and glided towards the ground, landing in almost the exact same spot that Nick discovered it in just a minute ago.
Judy continued to be suspended in paralysis, unable to move a single muscle in shock and disorientation.
'Is it really worth the risk?'
'You know damn well it is. How else are you going to survive the work day?'
'What about coffee? Or maybe some relaxing music? We can't be doing this again…It's not right!'
'Oh, for crying out loud, stop with these fucking excuses! If you think that coffee can numb the pain, then you're absolutely crazy!'
'I don't know…It just seems like this…This is a bad idea.'
'A bad idea? If that's the case, then assaulting Nick was actually a good idea! Are you out of your goddamn mind? Huh? Listen to me. If you think that what you did was wrong…If you have any regret whatsoever…Then this will make all of that disappear. I mean Hell, I'd say there is a one in a million chance that he'll drop the assault charges, if we're lucky. Our career is in jeopardy right now. C'mon! Just a few sips will do the trick! You'll be sober enough to make your three o'clock appointment! It's worked in the past; you just need to be sneaky about it.'
'But what if we get caught? Are we really going to continue operating under the idea that being the chief of police is an excuse for drinking on the job? Of course not!'
Bogo's ability to write suddenly stalled. With his mind being so lost and confused, trying to work on a robbery case became his ball and chain. All he could do was to think astray. The assault on Nick Wilde yesterday marked a watershed moment in the stability of his career as a police officer. Rumors that floated around the station began to leak in the city. Any tabloids or new stations were thirsty to get their hands on any juicy rumors or speculations, only to manipulate them into brainwashing the public that he essentially killed Nick.
'They're all fucking sheep…,' thought Bogo.
His office space increasingly began to grow dim. The sunlight that normally lit up his room lost a majority of its intensity due to the sky that was littered with a gloomy blanket of grey clouds. The shadows that the sun cast on anything in his room slowly began to vanish, blending in with the colors of the room. Not too bright, but not too dark. He found a peaceful calm within his office space, despite the adversity which had overlapped the past few weeks.
Bogo abruptly opened the bottom-right drawer of his desk. Tucked in a casket that was molded into the drawer was a bottle of single-barrel whiskey, one hundred proof. Adjacent to it, a small aluminium can of soda-water. His dependency on whiskey-soda over the past week has held steady; one glass each morning with his coffee (on the rocks, of course), at least two at work (depending on how many visitors he receives), and a few more after getting off of his shift. It was like ethanol was the only thing that could quench his thirst. The sizzling, burning, bitter taste neutralized his mind and sent him into an emotional equilibrium. Paired with an exotic cigar or two whenever appropriate, and Bogo's problems would not fade away. It was an illusion of peace and harmony, one that kept his mind from overflowing.
An abrupt and raspy knock that barked from his door withdrew Bogo out of his mindset.
"Wh-Who is it?"
"It's Hopps. We need to talk."
The Chief glanced at his watch, thrown off guard at how early she was to her shift. Judy was to report for duty in two hours! What kind of business was urgent enough for her to meet him so early? His gut told him that somehow...It was related to her injured partner. Bogo seldom obeyed these instincts, always either taking them with a grain of salt or ignoring them altogether. This time, however, he felt compelled to dismiss her.
"Now's not a good time. Talk to me in a bit."
Bogo never heard an acknowledgment from Judy, which tugged at his curiosity. Glancing at the bottom of the doorframe, her two shadowy feet that manifested themselves were not moving whatsoever.
"Hopps!" he barked, "That was an order!"
"Sir, this is important. Just five minutes. Please."
It was noteworthy to Bogo that her voice was rather sharp and biting; a tone which was uncharacteristic of her hardworking nature. Not wanting to have to deal with a pissed-off rabbit, the Chief made his disinterest more pronounced. Using built-up strength that was in his right arm, he thrusted his fist down on the table, discharging an incredibly loud bang and a few isolated cracks of splintering wood.
"You have exactly three seconds to get out of the building, or I'll have you on parking duty foR AN ENTIRE YEAR! ONE FUCKING YEAR, HOPPS! YOU HEAR ME?!"
Despite the menacing threat, the two black smudges in the carpet refused to move.
"ONE!"
Not a single budge.
"TWO!"
Naught.
"THREE!"
Suddenly, the two feet launched upwards, with her entire body following their way up to the door handle. In one swift gesture, the locks were unlatched and the entryway glided open. Standing right before him, Judy Hopps, with a look of terminal shock in her tear-stained eyes. Gripped in her left hand, a mysterious, crumbled-up piece of paper. Lacking the meek and obedient personality that he always knew she possessed, Judy looked right into Bogo's eyes with loathe and abhorrence. It surprised and frightened Bogo; he had never seen her act like this before.
'Never let them see that they get to you.'
"What the hell did I just say?! Is…Is listening just not your strong suite? Take one more step into this office, and you will hand over your badge indefinitely. I've had enough of your insubordination, Hopps!"
"Sir! If you want to spend another day in this office as the chief of police, I suggest that you listen to me, and do not try me."
Bogo grew concerned at the sight of the very familiar looking document Judy was holding.
"That better not be what I think it is," he growled.
Judy crumbled up the handwritten letter and threw it right onto his desk. "You know damn well what that is."
With an unsteady hoof, Bogo reached for the paper and unfolded it. Sure enough, the handwritten letter, which he drafted earlier that morning, somehow reached Judy's eyes. In disbelief, the Chief reread the entire thing, refusing to accept the idea that she was able to get a hold of the document.
Dear Nick,
As the chief of police of this city, I must give you my sincerest apology. Although I understand your recent memory must be rather foggy, I feel that I must come clean and confess everything that I did which wound you up in here.
Yesterday afternoon, you reported a couple of minutes late to your afternoon shift. During that time, I was in a rather selfish and short-tempered mood, and with you being late to roll call, something inside me snapped. As you sat down, I began questioning, rather interrogating, you about why you were late. Believing you were going to give me a traffic-related excuse like you've done in the past, I pulled up the traffic report on the television screen, hoping that you'd fall into my trap. And when you did, I couldn't control my temper. I sent you off on a suspension after criticizing your integrity.
Upon walking out the door, you remembered the water bottle that you brought to work, and walked back to get it. That's when…I assaulted you in a fit of rage. Inexplicably, I used the bottle as a weapon and threw it straight at your head, which caused you to be knocked unconscious with a dented skull.
There are no excuses for my actions. Despite that I have been going through severe personal issues and adversity these past few weeks or months, that should not give me permission to assault one of my fellow officers. I continue to deeply regret everything I did that afternoon, and chances are I'll never forgive myself.
Now, both you and I have worked together for quite some time now, and this has allowed us to get to know each other. I explicitly remember you coining the humorous phrase that I was always 'more bark than bite', and how I always worked to stop stereotyping foxes like you and rabbits like Judy. Despite these little bumps in the road, we have always worked as a team. Always have, always will.
This is why I ask for forgiveness. I understand how mad you must be at me, and I understand how you are likely contemplating legal action against me. Because of my rough history, there is no reasonable doubt that if this goes to court, then my reign as the chief of police will be over. But because of our functionality as a team and our workmanship, I ask you to not press charges. Not only will this keep myself in order of this disorganized station, but it will be better for all of us in the long run.
I plan to provide eighty percent of the medical costs associated with your recovery that insurance does not cover, and I will commit to anger management classes two times a week to prevent this from ever happening again. May I wish you a fast and speedy recovery, and everyone here at the ZPD wish to see you back very soon.
-Best Wishes,
Bogo
The Chief was absolutely speechless. This wasn't a setup, fraud, or some prank – Judy did in fact get ahold of the restricted information and learned about the gruesome truth of what happened that very day. The entropy dissociated with this mess would only continue to get more disarrayed. Judy now became a huge barrier he would need to surpass in order to stay in power.
"How…How did you get a hold of this?"
Judy wiped a tear from her eye. "You really want to know? Or do you want me to make up some sort of phony excuse, give it to you in a letter, and hope that I keep my badge? Clearly, that kind strategy works for you."
"Hopps, you're not making any sense…"
"The letter…You know and I know that you don't give a crap about Nick's recovery. All you want to do is keep your job, and by manipulating him in thinking that you do give a damn about his recovery…It's…It's…"
"Hopps, listen to me. You don't unde-"
"It's sickening! Repulsive! Vile! You think that by persuading him to keep you out of trouble, then you'll keep your job!"
"Stop it now, you're going berserk!" barked Bogo.
Judy began to softly weep. "You're a monster," she mumbled.
"I beg your pardon?"
"YOU'RE A FRICKING MONSTER!"
"C…Can you just please listen to me?"
"What is there to say? Do you want to improvise another counterfeit apology to me this time?" said Judy while stroking another tear from her face. "I need to go. I'm going to throw up if I have to spend another second in this building talking to you."
"I'll tell everything, Judy. Please!" begged Bogo while lunging forward.
"Even if I did choose to stay…How could I be assured that I have your word?"
Without saying a word, Bogo slowly stood up and lifted his right hoof.
"I, Jasiri Bogo, promise to be brave, loyal, helpful, and trustworthy. It's the Junior Ranger Scouts Honor Code. I can never lie under that oath."
"…Jasiri? That's…That's your real name?"
"Yes. Yes, it is."
Bogo's tactic of revealing his name lured Judy back into his explanation. She cautiously stepped into his office, weary and curious as to what he was going to say next. As she gently floated in, Jasiri stood up and looked out the window behind him, which gave an exquisite and dazzling view of downtown Zootopia. The heavy concentration of skyscrapers, plateaued on a hill in the center of the city, were wrapped in blankets of the clouds provided by the overcast weather that day. Guarding the city was the Amazon Tower, the spiraling skyscraper that cascaded towards the heavens. It was dressed in an impressive array of turquoise stained sheets of glass, all arranged in thousands of hexagons which wrapped around the double-helix structure. It was a stunning piece of architecture, where anyone could see anything from its observation deck. Despite its aesthetic beauty, Bogo could do anything but live in a reflection of its dream.
"Justin. My brother. You've heard of him, right?"
"Are…Are you referring to the buffalo in the photos that you gave us?"
"Yes, that would be him."
"So? What does that have to do with anything?"
Jasiri was able to faintly make out the pulsating red light from the tower's beacon. Despite the clouds that hung heavy in the air, he could indistinctly make out the optics that illuminated from the Amazon Tower. Bogo took a deep breath and grabbed his car keys out of his pocket.
"Well…We are going to go and pay him a little visit. Would you be okay with that?"
"Um, why? That's the last thing I want to do."
"Hopps…Judy…I'm asking you to trust me."
"Good grief. Fine!" she spat.
"Splendid. Let's get a move-on!"
A steady drizzle of rain blanketed Bogo's car as it rode its way along the fast lane of Highway Z25, straight towards the complexity of the downtown area. Cars of all shapes and sizes, from machines that accommodate the tallest giraffes to apparatus that are suitable for the largest elephants in the city. The chaotic nature of the motorways was the working blood that fueled the city. Despite the diversity of the vehicles on the road, big or small, each and every mammal would find a way to navigate the roads. Bogo, who travelled this road to and from the station nearly every day, was no exception. Although his criticisms to the drivers of the city were quite prominent via the use of his sailor's mouth and cry of his horn, he could traverse the thoroughfares with ease.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Judy grew increasingly unnerved at his driving methods. Admittedly, she was never the best driver either; making a few siblings carsick back at home was adequate evidence that her choppy piloting skills were never the best. Nevertheless, Judy focused on the downtown ahead of them, not worrying about Bogo and more about their whereabouts.
"Chief Bogo? Sir?"
"Hopps, you can call me Jasiri. You're not on duty at the moment."
"Sorry. Jasiri…Right. Where exactly are we going, location-wise? I understand you want me to meet Justin…but where does he live? I'm still not too familiar with the downtown area."
"Well," mumbled Jasiri as he glanced over his shoulder while switching lanes, "We are going to visit him at the Amazon Tower."
"But…Why? I promised Nick I'd be back to discuss legal issues after our little chat…I never asked to be dragged along to see your brother. Just so you know, by the way, he's pissed about what happened. I hope you understand that this won't get you out of us pressing charges."
"Judy, I understand that I can't change your mind; I'm not one of those weird gypsy mammals that can do that sort of rubbish. All I want to do is to show you an explanation for the things that I did…An explanation that suggests why I've been so depressed and saddened these past few months. I have no doubt that you won't change your mind; I wouldn't either. But maybe if you understand what had to go through involving horrible events with my brother and I…Then perhaps you can understand me. Even forgive me."
"You're milking it…" growled Judy.
"Sorry. Could you do me a favor, please?" asked Jasiri, trying to shift the delicate subject to something not as controversial.
"What's that?"
"Do you see the wooden box that's right below your feet? The one crafted with olive wood?"
"Oh, do you mean the box that keeps sliding and banging across the floor of the car? Yeah, I can more than just see it."
"Alright. I need you to please carefully open it up and take out the leaf that is inside the wrapping.
Although confused, Judy obeyed Bogo's request. Upon opening the beautifully crafted box, which was ornamented with a brilliant shade of orange form the olive wood, she encountered one rather large sage leaf, enveloped in a plastic seal. She did as Bogo told her carefully, sliding the herb out of the package with plenty of precaution and care. Once out of the package, Judy noticed that written within the leaf, likely sketched out with some sort of stick or pin, was a message:
Heroes…whether they be our significant others, our parents, our friends, or even our brothers, will always live within us and without us. Although, evidentially, heroes will be traded for ghosts, they will always look upon us regardless. I wish heroes, heroes like you, would continue to help me find true happiness in life. To allow me to overcome adversity and personal loss.
"Chief Bogo, err-Jasiri…What is this?"
"I'll explain when we get there. A lot of it has to do with folk lore from my family."
Bogo switched lanes again, converging towards an upcoming exit. As the ramp came closer and closer, Judy and Jasiri slowly were swallowed by the vast and majestic complexity of downtown. Skyscrapers of all shapes and sizes littered their field of view. The jungle of steel, sort-of-speak, captured the essence and beauty of the city that ceases to roar. Billboards, banners, and gigantic television screens covered much of the infrastructure, flashing zesty shades of neon throughout the streets. Families of trees would also garnish the streets, with ones such as palms, pines, and redwoods providing a wild and natural aspect to the city. It connected each and every animal with their history and origins, allowing them to become one with the city.
As Bogo's car began to decelerate, out the corner of Judy's right eye, straight down a busy street, emerged the Amazon Tower. It was indistinguishable from the rest of the city. Its color spectrum, luminance, and helix curvature probably gave it public opinion of being the most beautiful skyscraper in the city, if not the world. Judy would continue to be awed upon encountering its height and infrastructure every time she saw it in person. This time was no exception. Her curiosity began to boil.
"How old is this tower?" she asked.
"It was built in nineteen sixty-two. Fifty-four years ago."
"Jeez, it's a lot older than I thought! I've always assumed it was built maybe a decade ago or something like that."
"Well, now you know."
"How many floors does it have?"
"One hundred and twenty."
"Which floor does Justin live on?"
"Justin? Well…You could say he lives on the first floor."
Jasiri's remark puzzled Judy. Upon visiting the tower with Nick a while ago, nowhere did she see hallways on the first floor that could have led to a hidden condo. Then again, she vividly remembers her attention being fixed on the vast array of elevators, stairways, and animals in the building. Perhaps she just never noticed it on her way to the domestic dispute that was called in. She dismissed any confusion and accepted what Bogo said.
"Well...He probably doesn't get a lot of views from the first floor! We should convince him to move up to the one hundred and twentieth floor!"
A blessing of an open parking meter right in front of the massive structure gave the two direct access to the Amazon Tower, which was now not even a block away. Jasiri cut the ignition on his vehicle, which coughed a few times before dying.
"Something like that…" he choked out.