"Love, it's not an emotion. Love is a promise. And he will never hurt her!"
- The Doctor (Doctor Who, Series 8 Finale, "Death in Heaven")
This must be what death felt like.
One moment of excruciating pain followed closely by a warm, fuzzy sensation.
In all of her life, Judy had never felt anything like this before. Her parents, her close friends, not even Nick could give her these feelings of comfort and bliss.
Judy lay with her eyes closed, allowing the sensations to pulse through her body. She giggled, the warm feelings beginning to tickle her, especially in her right paw.
It felt warm. It felt relaxing. It felt...
Like a wet tongue?
Slowly, Judy opened her eyes. She was surprised to find that she was lying on the forest floor as the fox still stood above her, his torn police uniform caked with mud and dirt. His teeth weren't around her neck, however. He was playfully licking at her right paw.
Judy turned to see what could possibly have convinced the fox to lick her paw instead of rip her apart. She couldn't see anything with his muzzle in the way, however, so Judy gently moved her paw closer to her body; the fox followed the paw, seemingly determined to keep licking it. That's when Judy saw what had caught the predator's attention.
Her wedding ring.
Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her. She didn't understand it completely, but somehow the fox remembered her. She let out a short, relieved laugh, which caught the fox's attention. With curious eyes and an expression that Judy could only describe as cute, the predator gently sniffed at Judy's face as if to see if she was alright.
Judy giggled as his snout tickled her but immediately winced as pain stabbed at her neck. She brought up a paw and rubbed her neck. She paused as she realized the fur there was wet. A sickening feeling fell over Judy as she slowly removed her paw from her neck and brought it to her line of sight.
The white fur on her paw was stained red, glistening in the moonlight. Nick had bitten her.
The fox looked at her sadly, his tail between his legs and his ears folded back. Judy glanced from her paw to the fox, unsure of what to do. Slowly, the fox stepped forward and began licking her paw clean as Judy simply stared, debating whether or not to trust the fox. After he finished with her paw, the fox carefully licked the wounds on Judy's neck, stopping whenever she winced.
Judy sat dumbfounded at her fox's sudden change in attitude. Here he was, licking clean the wounds he had inflicted only moments earlier. Judy couldn't understand this, but at the moment, she didn't really want to. In a way, she had her fox back, and that's all that mattered to her right now. She smiled sadly as she began petting his neck, her energy slowly recovering.
Amethyst.
For some odd reason, there had been amethyst on the bunny's paw. The fox had stopped the moment the precious stone glinted in the moonlight; suddenly he hadn't been so hungry anymore. All he could think about was the amethyst and the onslaught of new feelings it brought.
The fox felt the need to protect this bunny, no matter what. If she was hurt, he would make her better. If she ran, he would run with her. If she was scared, he would keep her safe. The feeling - no, the instinct - overruled all other thought processes, giving him one command: to always protect his bunny.
The fox continued to lick her wounds clean, ignoring the savory taste of her blood; he dared not harm her again. When he finished, he stared happily at his bunny, hoping he had done alright. She smiled at him, her amethyst eyes practically glowing in the dark. His bunny then ripped off a strip from her coverings and wrapped it around her neck. The predator didn't understand this, but her wounds were now covered. Maybe it would help.
The wind blew through the forest, carrying a strange scent to the fox's snout. It smelled fake and foreign; it was like it didn't belong in the forest at all. The scent stung the back of his throat as a sickening feeling fell over the fox. He noticed that his bunny was now looking past him, terror in her eyes. Slowly, the fox turned towards the source of his bunny's fear.
A snow leopard in odd coverings stood before them, a large and deadly object in its paws.
Hunter stared at the two cops, dumbfounded. He had expected to find Nick feasting on Judy's mangled corpse, but instead, he found the fox licking the bunny as if he were her pet! He couldn't comprehend it; had his serum not worked? Had it worn off?
Judy stared too, unwilling to make a movement for fear that Hunter would fire the large hunting rifle. She read his eyes and was surprised to find him completely and utterly confused. Judy was confused, too. Why hadn't Nick killed her?
The past two years suddenly flashed through Judy's mind. She remembered how throughout their relationship, Nick had always been afraid of losing her. He constantly stood up for her when dealing with tougher criminals – although she was completely capable of taking care of herself – and he would always put her safety before anything else. At first, Judy thought it was a bit much; she wasn't just some token bunny and there were many times that Nick nearly compromised a case because of his concern for Judy. As their relationship went on, however, Judy realized that this was Nick's way of showing affection; something he hadn't done in years.
Judy remembered how Nick had spent ages in the library, reading up on ancient instincts. When she had asked him about it, Nick had brushed her off, looking embarrassed. That hadn't stopped Judy from finding a journal filled with different warnings and instinctive signals; Nick had been gathering data to recognize certain instincts that would be dangerous to Judy. She had also started noticing that anytime Nick was nervous, doubtful, or angry, one look into her eyes set him straight.
The final pieces of Nick's puzzle were coming together as an idea clicked in Judy's head; an idea that would never come to Hunter.
Nick was still savage, but his instincts had changed.
All of Nick's worrying about hurting his best friend, all of Nick's doubting his own trustworthiness, all of Nick's loving his Judy had begun to seep into his very being, and amethyst was the catalyst. Slowly, his instincts had begun to evolve; he could hunt and he could burrow, but he would never harm Judy again.
The fox stepped forward, putting himself between Judy and Hunter. He snarled loudly and bared his teeth, his fur bristling. Hunter pondered the fox. His serum had definitely worked, but for some damn reason this fox was not going to hurt that bunny!
The leopard's head snapped towards Judy. "What happened?"
Judy smiled smugly, reveling in Hunter's seeming defeat. "My husband was just making sure I was alright; I did just fall, you know,"
"I don't care about that, bunny!" Hunter growled, his mind slowly beginning to go blank with rage. "Why didn't he kill you?!"
"I'm afraid it's too complicated for you to understand, Hunter," Judy said. "But we love each other."
Hunter spoke in a frustrated whisper, setting Judy's fur on end. "Predator and prey can never love each other," he said. "It's not what nature intended."
"If our relationships weren't intended by nature, then why did we evolve in the first place?" Judy challenged. She knew she was getting under Hunter's skin, and she was ready to take full advantage of it. "Or are you saying that we shouldn't have embraced nature?"
Hunter scoffed, surprised at just how dumb this bunny really was. "Evolution isn't embracing nature, you ignorant mammal!" Hunter roared, his teeth baring and his fur bristling. "Evolution is nature's way of distinguishing between the weak from the strong!"
Judy smiled smugly. "Then what does that make you?"
Silence hung in the air. Nothing dared make a sound, not even the constantly blowing wind. Hunter stood, dumbfounded; he hadn't expected a remark like that from a mere bunny. How dare she, mere prey, make him look like a fool?! Slowly, his anger bubbled up inside of him, seeping into every fiber of his body. He chuckled darkly, a sinister grin creeping over his muzzle.
"It makes me angry," he said simply, his pupils contracting into slits.
Time slowed to a crawl. Judy saw Hunter lift his rifle, the barrel aimed directly at her heart. The fox growled, getting ready to strike the leopard. Judy knew she had to act, or she and her fox were in serious trouble. Judy rolled to the side, dodging the lethal bullet. She hooked her foot around the fox's leg, tripping the predator before he could attack Hunter and ultimately put himself in danger. She picked herself up, noticing Nick's confused stare. She said nothing, hoping the look in her eyes was enough to tell her fox to run. Hunter's angry cry caught Judy's attention, her head snapping up in time to see the leopard reload the rifle with frightening speed and direct the barrel at her chest again.
Judy jumped forward and ran, catching the leopard off guard. The fox followed his bunny closely, intent on keeping her in his sight. Hunter charged after them, pure hatred and adrenaline coursing through his body. He laughed maniacally, slowly devolving into savagery.
Bark exploded next to Judy's head, causing her to roll for cover. Nick skidded to a stop when he realized his bunny wasn't running by him. As he returned to Judy, he allowed his bunny to wrap her arms around his neck to pick herself up. Once she had regained her balance, Judy quickly dodged to the right, hoping to get out of Hunter's aim.
"RUN, BUNNY, RUN!" Hunter called, his voice cracked and unstable. He fired another round and missed by a foot. The explosion of bark was enough to startle the two cops, though.
The fox stayed very close to Judy, helping her when she stumbled on roots and foliage. His night vision allowed him to easily avoid anything that could trip him, but his bunny didn't have that special trait. Judy kept running, though, constantly glancing at her fox to get an idea of when to jump. For the most part, it worked, but her torn uniform was quickly covered with a thick layer of dirt, mud, and leaves. As they ran, Judy's neck began to sting under her crude bandages. She gritted her teeth as she tried to ignore the pain; if she stopped, she was dead.
Hunter kept firing, barely taking the time to properly aim. He wanted them to feel pure fear, and he wanted to draw this hunt out as long as possible. Hunter's movements grew rushed and sloppy as he continued his deadly onslaught of bullets. Even his reloading, which had become an involuntary process, was losing its practiced refinement.
Two bullets flew through the air, whizzing past Judy's ears. She winced as sensitive nerves reacted to the close call, causing her to turn her attention away from the forest floor. A large root caught Judy's foot, her momentum twisting her ankle violently with a sickening crack. She screamed as she hit the ground, pain searing through her leg. The fox was by her side in an instant, his snout gently poking her body as he tried to find the source of her pain.
Judy clutched her broken leg, memories of when she and Nick had run from Bellwether at the History Museum flooding her mind. Just like then, her fox was not going to leave her behind.
Gently, Nick brought his head under her body. With careful shifts of weight and gentle prodding with his snout, the fox had Judy on his back. After her arms were locked tightly around his neck, the fox raced through the forest.
It was then that Judy realized that they had nowhere to go. She didn't know how far from the ZPD they were, she had no idea which direction led to the city. Hunter had them completely isolated; it was just a matter of time before he caught up to them.
A small tree was shot straight through, startling both the fox and bunny. Nick quickly darted the opposite direction as Judy barely hung on due to the sudden change in momentum. His instincts began to tell him that he was being herded, so he quickly turned around and ran back, throwing the leopard's aim off. The fox glanced over his shoulder, making sure his bunny was alright. She smiled down at him, but even in his savage state Nick knew it was not a real smile.
More bark flew into their faces, causing the fox to turn to his left. He stumbled on a small shrub, almost knocking Judy off of his back. His heightened reflexes, however, kept them both on their feet. The fox dashed between two trees, momentarily blocking Hunter's aim.
The fox and bunny covered many yards of forest, but Hunter kept them going in circles. Trees and bark exploded on impact, and soon both Nick and Judy had hundreds of little wooden bits in their fur, which now began to itch violently. Hunter knew he only had to keep this up for a little more time before they couldn't run anymore.
Hunter kept firing as Nick and Judy tried to get away. The fox's breathing became erratic and his reflexes became sloppy. He was growing tired, fast.
The leopard shot at them, missing by an inch. A nearby tree imploded, the bark flying into the fox's eyes. Nick rolled, accidentally throwing Judy off of his back. They fell into a nearby ditch, rolling through the dirt and foliage before coming to an abrupt stop at the bottom.
Judy slowly picked herself up, a dull throbbing in her head. She glanced over at her fox, who lay only a foot away from her. He wasn't moving.
"FINALLY! I beginning to think he would never die! " Judy whipped around, horrified to find a disheveled and pissed snow leopard standing above them; his deranged smile could stop Chief Bogo in his tracks.
Judy quickly crawled over to Nick's body, both to check on her fox and to get away from Hunter. "Nick," she said desperately as she gently shook the fox, hoping that what Hunter had said wasn't true. He still didn't move. "Nick, get up!"
"I'm afraid Nick is gone," Hunter said; there was not an ounce of pity in his voice.
Judy turned to Hunter, tears stinging her eyes. "What did you do to him!?"
Hunter shrugged as he slowly walked down into the ditch. "Nothing. He just couldn't handle the dose of Night Howler serum I gave him."
Judy gasped and turned back to her fox. He still did not move; there was no steady rising and falling of his chest, there was no darting of his eyes under his closed eyelids. Tears began to flow freely from the bunny as the horrifying reality came crashing down.
"I had hoped that he would've killed you by now," Hunter said as he cocked his large hunting rifle. "But I guess I'll have to do the dirty work myself."
Judy didn't move her eyes away from her husband. With Nick gone, there was nothing she could do; she couldn't run, she couldn't call for help, she couldn't fight back. For the first time in her life, Judy was truly alone.
And it scared her.
Hunter aimed his rifle straight at Judy's heart, his crazed smile glinting in the moonlight. His blue eyes, normally calm and collected, were now filled with a savage hatred. He would finally have his victory. He would finally kill Judy and show to the world that predator and prey can never live in harmony. Zootopia would finally crack in two while prejudice-induced panic tore the citizens apart. His heart began to flutter as he imagined it; a true animal utopia.
"Goodbye, Judy," Hunter said with a grim finality. Judy closed her eyes and rested her head on Nick as Hunter pulled the trigger.
Thunder sounded through the forest, followed by complete and utter silence.
The wind dared not speak, the leaves dared not move. It seemed that all eternity had stopped, completely focused on what was happening, in some ditch in the forest, between a snow leopard, a fox, and a bunny.
A myriad of intensely different emotions rushed through Hunter as his mind raced indefinitely, so many thoughts appearing for only a split second. His childhood, coming to Zootopia, meeting Bellwether in school, graduation, career, prejudice, heartbreak, jealousy, revenge. Hunter's stare became blank as his head overloaded with emotions and memories.
He felt nostalgic as he thought back to his happy childhood. He felt angry with the prejudice that tore predator and prey apart. He felt unsatisfied with the choices he made down the road to revenge. He felt regret for hurting the only animal that ever truly cared about him.
A single tear fell from Hunter's cold blue eyes as he fell to the forest floor, a dark stain growing over his chest. His last breath, soft and apologetic, carried her name.
Bellwether.