As per all other chapter headings, the cover image for this fic is used with permission of Littleivy25, whose other works can be found on deviantart-dot-com!
The velvet blackness of the night sky above the tree canopy was speckled with pinpricks of starlight. Far from the pool of blood that marked a young doe-rabbits exit from life, along a trail of dark red drops of drying blood, a bedraggled fox in the uniform of a Zootopia Police Department officer put his weight behind a shovel and made the grave he was digging a little deeper.
The metallic grating of the shovel cutting through the dirt was rhythmic, accompanied by a soft and steady refrain of hushed breaths as the fox panted for breath. The toil was hard, but he refused to stop; this would be no shallow grave. She deserved better.
Nicholas Piberius Wilde, murderer of his partner, mumbled a monologue of despair as he worked and sweated and panted. "I'm so sorry, Carrots. There really was no other way... if only I could... I could have done it differently. I'd have spared you from this. I'm so... so sorry."
He sniffled pathetically and spared a glance at the body of Judy Hopps. The bunny laid in peaceful repose, her fur and clothes still soaked with blood from her rather violent, albeit swift, death. She was on her back and, truth be told, looked at peace.
Nick closed his eyes and forced the shovel deeper. "I know what I've done is unforgivable... I don't expect that I'll ever come back from this, but... but I want you to know... if you're listening... that I am sorry."
The fox continued to dig, his mumbling ceased for the time being. He grunted in frustration as the hard edge of the shovel hit another large stone and jarred his arms before he tried another spot. He worked the stone free, paused in his digging to lift the rock free and place it next to his steadily-growing mound of dirt, then picked up the shovel to continue.
Nick gave a sob and threw the spade, head-first, into the soil at the bottom of the grave. "I just... I just want to know, Carrots... I need to know... just give me some sign, please, if you can... can you ever forgive me for this?"
"Nope."
Nick dropped to his knees within the grave; it might not be a 'shallow' grave but his head and shoulders were still visible above the lip, even with his temporarily shortened stature. "Come on Fluff, I've said I was sorry like fifty times already. I know it was your favourite shirt and I'm sorry that I clawed you but they'd never have believed it otherwise!"
Judy pushed herself up and rested on her elbows, glaring at Nick. She shifted her weight and freed her right arm, pinching a piece of the blood-stained cloth that made up her shirt and holding it out towards him. "This here, Nicholas, is my favourite shirt. Not just a nice shirt; not even a great shirt, but it is. My. Favourite. And you have covered it in blood and tears and snot and mud and who even knows what else tonight."
She clambered to her feet and walked the few steps needed to reach the edge of her grave and towered above him imperiously. "And if that wasn't enough, once again, I find that the only way you could think of engineering a way out of a situation is to murder me in cold blood. This is the fifth time, Nick! The fifth! I could understand it during the Nighthowler case; heck, even when we were literally thrown to the wolves in that underground fighting ring, but five times the first plan you've come up with is 'kill Judy to put myself into their good books'."
Nick's ears, already flat against his skull, seemed to flatten more. "I've already said I'm sorry and you've had me digging your stupid grave for an hour already! Couldn't you at least dig a little bit of it?"
"No, Nick, I can't. I'm dead." Judy said, waving a paw at her shirt again. "Blood. Blood. Blood. Dead. Now keep digging; you're not allowed to stop until I'm satisfied. Then you can fill it in, make me a nice little pile of stones-"
"It's called a cairn, Carrots-"
"-and then go pick me some flowers. After all, I'm just your best friend and partner and you are feeling ever so guilty about my fifth death."
Nick began to sob and picked up the shovel again.
"And enough of the pity-party! I might have let this all go, and you could have avoided all of this work to reinforce the lie..."
"I said I was sorry about the shirt!"
"I know you are," Judy said with a growl. "But this is punishment for wiping your blood across my forehead and saying 'Simba'!"
Nick's sobs echoed through the night, accompanied by the constant rhythmic shovelling of dirt.
Nicholas Wilde lay prostrate upon the loamy undergrowth of the woods. A small hillock of disturbed soil, a few inches shorter and thinner than his body, marked the final resting place of Judith Eileen Hopps. The eulogy had been beautiful and heartfelt, containing a piece of advice handed down from his mother Vivian regarding cleaning blood from clothes that had been met with a dry-heave of disgust from the audience of one. A small cairn of stones was the headstone, one of the larger and smoother of the ones unearthed from beneath the ground having been engraved with the incumbent's name. A scattered collection of wildflowers, laid next to the cairn, finished the artifice beautifully and gave an air of regret to the scene.
The fox's breathing had at last returned to normal. It had now been around four hours since he had murdered Judy, and he was considering doing it again.
"Maybe it needs more flowers."
Nick slapped his paws over his eyes and gave a muffled scream of frustration. "Carrots, please, this is so much more than is necessary. I'm sorry, alright? Do you get that? I, Nicholas P. Wilde, am sorry I 'Lion King'd you and ruined your favourite shirt and fake-murdered you for the fifth time. I have built your grave, exactly to specifications. I gave you your own eulogy. I told you how to clean the shirt-"
"Nick, I do not care what your mother told you, licking my shirt is not going to clean it!"
"For fluff's- It's my blood on your shirt for the most part, so I have to lick it. Your own saliva breaks down your own blood. You would just have to lick the collar some. And that's another thing; you had me shovelling and picking flowers and playing with rocks and stuff with an open wound on my paw! Do you have any idea how much that stings? I've had to keep stretching it and clenching my paw so much to keep the blood flowing to fool Renner and-"
Judy turned away from the grave and glared at Nick. "You shouldn't have scratched yourself so deep and you mixed it with rainwater anyway... Oh, and speaking of scratches," she pulled her shirt down and away from her throat to expose the three jagged lines that had begun to scab over following him slashing her neck open. "How am I meant to explain these to my parents? 'Oh, don't worry about those little silver lines in my neck-fur, mom, those are from Nick murdering me again!'"
"Can we please not argue about this again?"
"I dunno, Nick, can you refrain from murdering me again in the future?"
Nick opened his eyes and his gaze met Judy's. "... Pretend-murder or actual?"
Judy's eyes narrowed, her mouth opened, and Nick resigned himself to another round of her yelling at him.
Judy checked her watch. Two in the morning. She hoped that it would be enough. She nudged Nick, sitting beside her with his back resting against hers, with her elbow. "Okay, slick, it's time to get going. Remind me again exactly why we aren't doing this together?"
Nick sighed. "Renner is my long-lost dad; he did nasty stuff to some real jerks and then did more nasty stuff to my mom. He went full-on off the rails and scurried back here, apparently his home before Zootopia, and somehow made everyone believe in this weird utopia that's kept in check by a bunch of animals murdering anyone they think is working against the good of the community. I have recently murdered and buried you-"
"It was a rather nice speech you gave."
"-out here in the woods-"
"A little cairn and everything. You really know how to treat a doe at her funeral."
"-and I will report to work tomorrow like everything is fine and dandy. I will keep an eye on everyone and you will take the car-keys that I swiped earlier and drive to Zootopia; you will warn Bogo and get the full blue fury of the ZPD to come along and kick serious tail."
"Great. You're not coming with me because then they'd all get spooked and run for the hills. I'm not going with you because then the jig is up and they know that I wasn't actually murdered."
"Again."
"Precisely."
Nick sighed. "I still can't believe that sleazy rutter is my dad."
"I can't believe you ruined my shirt."
Nick groaned and pushed himself up, dusting off the back of his pants. "That's it. One more word about the shirt, or killing you, and I am going to dig up that grave and plant you in it."
Judy hopped to her feet beside him and grinned slyly. "Oh you big silly... I'm already in it. Schrödinger's bunny. I'm both dead and alive all at once!"
"And regardless of which, you're all annoying. Now get going, I need some sleep before I start acting all brainwashed and Bushel-Fielded."
"Be safe, Nick."
Nick, about to walk away, turned back and gave Judy a strong hug. "You too, Judes." Nick let her go and sauntered away in the direction of the village square. "Remember now; full blue fury. Anything less than SWAT with helicopters and vans and the like is not fury. I am not having my rescue from this open-air asylum be anything less than spectacular."
Judy rolled her eyes and skipped away. "I shall do my utmost to have the ZPD bend to your theatrical urges."
Nick raised his voice as the distance between them grew a little larger. "Good! See if you can get a banner made with glitter and stuff to hang behind the 'copter."
Judy unlocked the door of the car and climbed in. The vehicle, a small saloon more suited to Zootopia's streets than the rural backroads if she was honest, belonged to the recently-deceased Leslie Tiller. It was a stretch to reach the pedals but, thanks to the timing of the poor vixen's death, provided Judy with a guaranteed full tank of gas. The engine purred to life on the first turn of the key and Judy eased the clutch out as she pressed down on the gas pedal; the car pulled out of the driveway slowly and she grinned widely. She kept her speed and engine-noise low until she saw the sign advertising her exit from Bushel Fields' territory, then added speed until she cruised along the motorway towards Zootopia.
The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon, casting the sky a beautiful mix of lilac, peach and orange, when Judy felt the need to answer a call of nature. The gas-tank of Tiller's car was still somewhere just above half-full and her watch indicated it was coming close to six in the morning. Nearly four hours of driving and she was a little under half-way. Judy cursed the roads for taking more indirect routes than the trains. She pulled over into the next rest-stop she saw, little more than a fuel station with a small twenty-four hour store attached. At least it advertised a bathroom.
Judy hopped from the car and entered the store; she took care of her business and grabbed a small granola bar from a display before she spied a telephone booth at the back of the service area. Judy's eyes lit up and she checked her watch again; six-oh-four. Clawhauser at least would be at the front desk; Bogo might even be in. She threw herself at the landline and mashed the numbers needed to dial precinct one as fast as she could. The phone barely rang before Benjamin Clawhauser's cheerful tones answered.
"Zootopia Police Department, Ben Clawhauser speaking; how can I direct your call?"
"Ben, it's Judy-"
"Judy! Oh-em-goodness, it feels like forever! Have you and Nick been-"
"Ben- Ben, we'll catch up in a minute. This is an emergency. Is Bogo in?"
"The Chief? Yeah, he's in his office-"
"I need to speak to Bogo right now, Ben; it's a matter of life and death."
The line beeped almost instantly as the call was transferred. Clawhauser wasn't fast on his feet, what with the donuts and cakes and all, but he could work the 'phones better than anyone.
"Hopps." Bogo's bass-filled voice greeted. "Life and Death?"
"Sir; things are going down big-time in Bushel Fields. There've been multiple murders and Nick and I need major support. SWAT, helicopters... full mobilisation."
"Hopps-"
"Nick's staying in town to try and stop anyone getting suspicious but I'm in a rest-stop on the I-12 right now and-"
"Hopps! I can't help you."
Judy froze. "W-why?"
"Hopps... I received a report yesterday evening from Chief Tusker. You and Nick were both signed off pending psychiatric review. I can't authorise a full mobilisation based on the words of someone I sent to rest and recuperate in the sleepiest town possible who has then supposedly simultaneously discovered one of the best-kept secret cults in the modern world and had a full blown psyche-episode leading to immediate suspension."
"Chief, you have to believe me; Tusker is in on it too, that's why he's told you we've flipped!"
"... I can send one car, Hopps. I can spare two officers to come and take a look around, ask some poignant questions, but that's it."
Judy held the phone in front of her face and cocked her head at it. "Two officers? That's it? Chief, I've been driving for nearly four hours in a commandeered vehicle at the speed limit and I'm not even halfway. We need you."
Judy heard the crackle down the line as Bogo sighed into the speaker. "I'm sorry, Hopps... it's the best I can do in the situation."
Judy gritted her teeth. "Fine. Fine! I'll just take the entire town by storm myself, shall I? A regular one-bunny arm... y..."
During her angry outburst, Judy had turned her head. A single rack of DVDs, resplendent in their plastic-wrap, stood before her. Martial Paw, Bad Wolves, Die Herd... even Zootopia Police Academy. Every buddy-cop movie action-filled adventure Nick had introduced her to, and all for the low-low-price of two-ninety-nine or two-for-five-bucks-
"Hopps?"
-right there in front of her. Judy's mind raced; Bogo couldn't send help, not much at any rate, and even if they did find something that warranted a further response it could be-
"Hopps, are you still there?"
-hours before they responded in enough force. Wainwright had joked that everyone and their mothers was armed in the countryside, and having already had a pistol aimed in her face mixed with the haul from Webley's farm-
"Hopps?!"
"Sorry Chief, I'll call you back. Send back-up." Judy said absently and hung the handset back up. Her eyes flickered around the store; cans of spray-paint, a budget travel case, a large coffee and another granola bar joined her basket in short order and she dumped her goods in front of the almost-comatose teen wolf behind the counter.
"Welcome to Zoomers, will this be all for you today?" the wolf drawled in monotone. Judy's eyebrow rose as the wolf didn't even bother to look down to her.
"Got any sunglasses in my size?"
The wolf, with the most minimal effort possible, raised a paw and pointed at a rack over Judy's shoulder. "Aisle three, madam."
Judy bounded over and grabbed a set of aviators. If she was going to swoop in to Nick's rescue on her own... well, one bunny army was how she'd do it. If they were both going to die in some stupid suicidal assault then at least it would be theatrical enough for him. And she'd get to look bad-a-
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Judy took a deep breath. Channel Nick. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet as smoothly as she could, then retrieved her credit card from the compartment. She flicked it up in her paw and held it out towards the wolf and gave him a sultry grin. "No thanks. This is something I've gotta do on my own."
Leslie Tiller's car sped well over the speed limit as it raced back towards the Bushel Fields' village limits. The engine roared as the revolutions crossed entirely too close to four thousand for the first time since it rolled from the assembly line, and despite the radio not working, singing could be heard.
A single female rabbit, a toothpick clenched between her teeth, her grey fur dyed a ruddy brown from dried blood, and a pair of dark aviator sunglasses covering her eyes, drummed her paws on the steering wheel and warbled along with a beat in her head.
"Bad wolves-er-Bad Hopps-bad Hopps; whatcha gonna dooo? Whatcha gonna doooo when I come for you? Bad Hopps-bad Hopps!"