Chapter Ten: You're Going to Help Me, or, Tick-Tock.

It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she thought to herself: 'He is clever and full of experience, and much esteemed in the world,' she spoke to him in a friendly way. 'Good day, dear Mr Fox, how are you? How is all with you? How are you getting on in these hard times?' The fox, full of all kinds of arrogance, looked at the cat from head to foot, and for a long time did not know whether he would give any answer or not. At last he said: 'Oh, you wretched beard-cleaner, you piebald fool, you hungry mouse-hunter, what can you be thinking of? Have you the cheek to ask how I am getting on? What have you learnt? How many arts do you understand?' 'I understand but one,' replied the cat, modestly. 'What art is that?' asked the fox. 'When the hounds are following me, I can spring into a tree and save myself.' 'Is that all?' said the fox. 'I am master of a hundred arts, and have into the bargain a sackful of cunning. You make me sorry for you…

- The Fox and the Cat, the Brothers Grimm

I'd like to think I have a large amount of patience. Hanging around Finn doesn't really build it, sure, but Judy more than makes up for that. Always talking about the new book, or a movie she wants to go see, or arguing with me about my choice in reading… And now it was all just her grousing about how annoying work was, for me to be careful…

I think I was being careful. Carol chatting my ear off might drive me nuts, though. Almost a half hour of walking around and she was still going on about harmful stereotypes and spreading awareness. We'd get a few glances every now and again, depending on how loud she got.

" You know, Nick," she said, paw drifting against my arm, " all these different species, all those unique needs- it's so hard to deal with all of them!" She took a deep drink from her smoothie- same mix as mine. " But we did it, this city did it! Doesn't mean that there aren't any issues, though."

" That's why," I began, " I'm a cop, Carol. Keep all the issues as small as I can, right? Keep everyone safe, no matter what."

" And that's why you're such a big inspiration," she said, moving a little closer to me on the sidewalk. I could see her staring at me out the corner of my eye, smiling. " You wouldn't pick and choose who needs protecting, right?"

I shook my head. " Nah. I see it just good and bad. You got dumb folk, smart ones, a bunch of adjectives on both sides. All I care about is getting the rotten apples."

She nodded, went back to her drink. She wouldn't take her eyes off me unless she was about to run into someone, and if I ever made a noise like I was going to talk, she would perk up and stick her face closer to mine. Eventually, after sitting on a bench, I did find something to talk about.

" So," I said, stretching, " I remember reading all those emails, Carol, getting all those packages with those nice clothes, all those letters…" She nodded excitedly, scooting closer to me. " What makes you do all those, ah, sweet things? Must be so expensive."

I thought she was going to go off on a spiel, but she squared up instead, had her face drawn up all serious. " It's super important to support folk who get stigmatized," she said, "And you being the only fox in that police department, I thought it'd be nice to show you that you have folk that give a damn about you. It'd be nice to see a positive portrayal of foxes for once, you know?"

Made sense. In school, when we had history, then went over stereotypes, how things have changed over the years and how much we've come forward since the old days. I had a kid from another country in my year, and he told me all about these horrible stories he grew up with- huli jing, stealing souls and tricking families out of everything they had. When we took a language class, you'd hear the slang, and more than one kid would get offended by some of it.

I shook my head. I had to get out the past, though. I asked that for a reason.

" But," I said, " You know that I still struggle sometimes, right? That life is still tough sometimes." Her face dropped a little, and she put her paws over mine. " Remember what I was saying about that tough case? I get all sorts of, uh, crap, for not getting anything done."

" Oh," she said, pouting, " Yeah, that big wolf you have as a partner, he's an angry guy. Bullying everyone for information." I tilted my head, and she gave me a small smile. " Don't you remember? I said hi to you when you were going around talking to all those mice. You talked to me for a whole five minutes."

" Oh," I said, " Well, that wolf is probably why I don't remember… Were you out shopping or something that day?"

It was a long shot, but maybe she'd drop something about visiting her shady mouse friend, or that she some suspicious guys somewhere…

" Actually," she said, sipping at her smoothie, " I had to go and help a friend with moving some of his stuff. He had a big fight with his girlfriend, I think, and-" she smacked her lips, her eyes drifting away from me and at the crowd walking by, " -I had to go and pick up all his stuff from her place. She threw his stuff into the street, was yelling about how he was lucky she wasn't going to go Lorena Bobbitt on him..."

Oh, God. Not again.

Nick drifted off a bit while I was talking. His head fell back against the bench, he slumped a bit, and I think I heard him snore. Wasn't normal snoring, though- he sounded like he had run a mile and was fighting a very phlegmy cold at the same time. Poor Nick! Worked so hard, couldn't even get some time off for real bed rest.

I could tell something was off with him. When he was working, he'd smile a lot, he'd crack jokes with Judy. Not here, though. He didn't smile much with me, his face would be scrunched up. I thought partners would be close, but if he had to act so happy in front of her, instead of looking as drained as he did… He needed someone to talk to, to vent.

That would be the right thing to do, and it'd help him rise above all that stress he's got.

I turn away for one second, and she starts shaking my shoulder, getting all close.

" Nick, she said worriedly, paws grasping my shoulder, " You're getting beat up at work, you look drained… And, you know, I don't want you like that. If you need help, I'll do what I can."

I nodded, and she squeezed my arm, fighting me a little when I pulled away. " I need you to help me with the mice," I said, " Even just a little bit of info, I could get the break I needed." I thought of James, of Judy with her mice. " One less thing to worry about would be nice."

Marcus leaned against the doorway, clutching his chest, breathing hard, looking at me like I was complete scum. I walked up to him, glanced into his eyes. They weren't glazed over, or faraway. Had he stopped taking the drugs?

Eventually, he found his breath again, made a big show of pointing at me, shaking his head. He then got the nerve to get in my face and start shoving me. He pushed against my chest hard, and I fell back onto the floor, straight on my behind.

" I- You!" I stammered, " Don't you have any respect? " Now, he gets mad? Not killing two folk, but running a bit? Really?

" You owe me!" he said. " Alright? I had to run through so much nasty shit to get away, and for what?" Marcus' scowl deepened, " Just so the drunk could get snatched up? Is that meant to make up for everything else?"

I got up, with difficulty. I held my tongue, let him go on for a few more minutes. Stupid idea that, ruining school this. He had no respect for his elders, none at all.

He gave up eventually, arms crossed and head held high. " Marcus," I said softly, " You need to look at the big picture. The police will have to divert the rabbit to deal with the drunk, and you would just listen to me and not get so emotional, we can go and get to-"

" Why the hell would I want you to kill my teacher?!" he snapped, "The pig, fine, sure, go crazy, but Gomez didn't have nothing to do with what happened-"

" Gomez was a part of it," I said irritably, " I don't care if he was the janitor, you understand?" Marcus shook his head, and I sighed, " He was able to do something and he didn't, and he's too stupid to go into police custody."

" Because he wants to teach!" Marcus countered, poking me in the chest again, " He wants to work the summer classes, to help me graduate on time, and- and, do you get that he helps me with my papers? That he's the only one who vouches for me and talks to my other professors about my grades? " He paced back and forth, stomping his feet.

Marcus was awfully obsessed with his classes, acting like that psychology degree was going to get him anything. No one had ever listened to mice- why start now, why let him get disappointed?

I took a deep breath, watching Marcus glare at me. " Look," I said, " You need to-"

" Shut the hell up!" he shouted, " Just- Admit it, already! You're scared, you don't want to go through with it. He's been sitting in the hospital all this time and you've done jack-shit! You've got me running around following them for nothing, getting my teachers all suspicious, because you can't follow through! Coward!" He coughed hard, shook his head.

I took a long, deep breath, fought the urge to hit him in the face, no matter how easy that would be right now… He wouldn't get it, no. He was still a baby when that lab was running. But to let him walk away, consequence-free, when I still had to go through all this pain…

I would have to go the simple route. His own fault, for being a coward, for trying to back out.

" You're a murderer, Marcus," I said, watching him flinch. " You think you can get away from that now, that you can really help anyone? It'll bleed through, your past, your patients will notice..." He opened his mouth to argue, " Listen to me!" I snapped, " Murderer is all you'll ever be, especially if I go and tell the police. Even if they can't pin anything, that'll ruin your schooling, won't it? Not like you could pay for another semester."

His paws clenched, his eyes drifted to the floor. " You're going to end up just like me, " I said, " lying to yourself and trying to be something you're not won't do anything but make you depressed."

It was laughable, really, to try and get a four-year degree on such a short life-span. Who was he going to help in a year, in two?

He wasn't looking at me. Quiet, swallowing hard, slumping just a bit.

" This life," I said slowly, " Is all that we have. We don't have time for anyone else, we don't have time to waste money and pretend."

" That isn't true!" he said, voice cracking. " I- I can still do something, I can go out there and do something good instead of sitting here and being miserable like all of you."

He still thought he could back out. That breaks my heart more than anything.

"Well," I said, " Have fun dying right after graduation."