So, just a forewarning: this chapter gets pretty dark. This warning is for those that do not with to read on darker subjects, but as most of this story has followed this theme, hopefully this won't be that big of an issue. So, enjoy chapter 13.
Blake yawned as he stretched, slowly waking up and taking in his surroundings. He was slumped against the dumpster, his bag still by his side. Sitting up slowly, he looked around to make sure no one was in the alley, watching him.
Well...that was an interesting evening.
Slowly standing up, shaking out his fur, Blake began to consider his options. On one hand, he could simply slip away. Nick hadn't brought any police back, and since he also had left for the night, Blake knew that he could leave. All it would take is to throw his hood up and slip into the slums, and he would be able to disappear. He could forget that any of this had ever happened.
On the other hand, he could go back to the apartment. He could try and apologize to Judy, to Nick, to anyone who was there, if they were there. He could try and explain what had happened; he could try and figure out a way to make them understand what was wrong. Thinking over what Nick had said, Blake knew that, at least to Nick, those words held some serious meaning. He had said what he thought he needed to say, and Blake knew that he wanted to help.
Walking down and out of the alley, Blake turned down the street, still lost in thought. He knew that he needed to find a place to get some breakfast, so he began to wander downtown, thinking as he walked.
Don't think I can go back there. Not after that. Besides, they're only going to push the issue further, and right now, that's the last thing I want.
Swiping some food from a nearby stand took almost no effort, and soon Blake was eating a small mix of breakfast foods. The vendor there had obviously been new, as Blake's theft had been far too easy. Mentally marking the stand as a possible repeat target, he continued to walk the streets, watching his surroundings as he headed for one of the many parks in the downtown portion of the city.
Pausing at a crosswalk, he waited patiently as an engine flew by, running code three. Blake covered his ears as it passed, trying to reduce some of the impact the blaring siren had on his ears.
I pity those who have even better hearing.
Crossing the street, Blake found a bench and sat down with a small sigh. Looking around the park, he watched the activity of those there with minimal interest, mostly lost in his own thoughts. He kept on thinking over the events of the past month, trying as best as he could to prevent his normal thoughts from rising to the surface.
A police cruiser rolled by, and Blake shifted and put his hood up, making sure that they didn't see him. The last thing he wanted was Nick and Judy to stumble on him while he was out here. There were low odds of that happening, but Blake knew that it was something that could happen if he wasn't careful.
And I'm probably still wanted for that theft. He thought, glancing around again to make sure that nobody was watching him. Nobody was, but maintaining his security was something that Blake knew he had to do if he wanted to remain safe. Resting his aid bag against his leg, and wrapping his tail around it to keep it secure, Blake closed his eyes and leaned back a bit, enjoying the weather. It was a calm, clear day, with the perfect mix of temperature and breeze. While he knew it wouldn't last, Blake happily enjoyed what little goodness he could.
I don't deserve this. The thought lept into his mind, unbidden. The others do, but I don't.
Sitting upright suddenly, Blake shifted and picked up his bag. He really didn't deserve to enjoy this weather. Not with what had happened, not with the amount of people he had let down. If they couldn't enjoy it, he didn't deserve to.
Standing up, Blake began to walk out of the park, glancing at the sun. It looked like it was about mid-afternoon, and he was surprised that he had spent that long sitting on the bench. Normally he moved during the day more, but he figured his injury was what was slowing him down.
A low grumble broke into his thoughts, and Blake smiled slightly as he realized it was his stomach growling.
Time to find some food.
Stealing dinner was a little bit harder than breakfast, but Blake still managed to get enough that he could eat a decent meal. Not as good as he had eaten during his stay with the two officers, but it was better than nothing. Pushing the thoughts of comfort from his mind, he sat down in a different alleyway and began to eat his meal, refusing to think about the duo he had left.
Better to not get attached. They're both police officers, and that's a high risk job. I already know what happens to people I get attached too, and they don't need that kind of mojo on them. They deserve better.
Not content, but able to deal with his decision, Blake curled up behind a new dumpster and went through his nightly ritual. After making sure he was alone, that his bag was secure, and that he could safely sleep, he finally let his eyes close, falling into an uneasy and disrupted sleep.
His daily pattern continued for the next two weeks, almost without fail. Each day he would steal breakfast, eat, and then find a way to occupy his time until the afternoon. Once it got close to dinner, Blake would steal his second meal, and then find a safe place to eat. He only had a few close calls during the thefts, but the police never got there soon enough. He did note that the same cruiser, 172, always seemed to be the one that responded, but that really didn't bother him, as he chalked it up to just being their job.
After eating, Blake would set up for sleep, and try and calm down for the night. That was the only thing that changed; each day, Blake's nightmares grew more and more vivid, more and more violent. He began to relive some of his worst memories of combat each night, and often he would visit the same one in the same night. Each time, he would jolt awake in a cold sweat, panicking and unable to calm down for hours.
After another week passed, Blake finally had had enough. He knew what he needed to do. He knew that he had always know what he needed to do.
After all, the best way to repay those you have failed is to join them in their loss.
Blake picked that Saturday as the day to do it. Might as well end it all on a weekend, where he would affect the least amount of mammals once discovered. He stole three meals that day, intent on at least going on a full stomach. After wandering the park, and enjoying his last supper, Blake knew it was time.
Moving off to a bulletin board, he grabbed the first paper he could and walked off without looking at it. The least he could do was leave a note for the first responders so they would know what had happened. He had the pen in his aid bag, so he knew that he could write the message. It wouldn't be much, but it would be enough to avoid any unneeded police work.
When he finally reached his alley, Blake shrugged of his bag and sat down. Setting the paper and pen off to his side, he reached into his bag and pulled out three syringes, three needles, and a vial or morphine. Being as full as it was, Blake knew that it would be enough. Assembling the syringes into what he needed, Blake drew up far more than enough morphine than would be needed to kill himself.
Finally have the courage to do what is needed. Least I'm not a coward anymore. He thought, as he set down each syringe. All he had to do was write his letter, and then he could finally repay his debt.
Picking up the paper, Blake froze. Staring up at him on the sheet was his own face, but it wasn't a wanted poster. As he looked over the poster, surprised, Blake realized that he was looking at a Missing Person's report. He checked over the information, and was surprised to see that instead of an official police report being the reason, instead a private citizen had made the request.
Who would care if I went missing? Blake thought, confused. I don't know anyone that well in this city, and I walked out on those two officers…
As he read the paper further, he noticed that there were two numbers to call. One he instantly recognized as the ZPD number. The other he didn't.
His interest slightly peaked, Blake looked between the paper and his morphine injections for several minutes.
Ah, the morphine can wait. All I have to do is call this number and see who it is, hang up, and stick myself. Not hard to do.
Making sure to safely secure his injections, Blake put his bag back on his shoulder and walked off. Finding a public access phone, he dialed the number that he had on the paper.
He sat there waiting as the phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
Glancing up at the sky, Blake knew it was about 4:30pm, so if the person didn't answer, they probably were at work.
The phone rang a fourth and fifth time, and then Blake heard the clicking sound that signaled the phone turning it over to the answering machine.
"Hi, this is Judy Hopps. I can't-" was all Blake heard before he dropped the phone. He could still hear Judy's voice coming from the headset, buzzing and distorted from the distance, but he took no notice. All he could focus on was the name he had just heard.
She put out the missing person's request. Not the ZPD, not the government, her. But..why? Blake thought, his mind now off the morphine in his bag as he thought over the new puzzle. Why would she care so much to do that for someone she knows is guilty of a crime?
Out of the corner of his eye, Blake watched a police cruiser roll by, but he didn't move, still standing there, stunned. I did nothing but treat them poorly, cause them trouble, and create issues. Why would she care enough to put this out?
He heard a car roll to a stop behind him as the engine idled. Blake looked over his shoulder and saw a stopped police cruiser, the black numbers 172 distinct from the white body of the vehicle. Hanging up the phone, Blake turned back and began to walk away, almost in a daze. He heard what sounded like a vehicle following him, but in his current state, he didn't really care. He just wandered a bit, watching as the sun began to sink further down the horizon.
With a start, Blake realized he had forgotten to do the very thing he had planned on doing. He also realized that he was now a mere block from the ZPD Precinct 1 office.
Better get this over with. Less confusion that way anyways.
Glancing around, he saw the 172 patrol car was there, but there was no driver or passenger. Looking around a little more frantically, Blake scanned for the officers who had to be somewhere nearby. Seeing none, he moved off towards a bench and sat down, setting his bag next to him and opening it up. Pulling out the paper, he wrote the letter, stating that this was a suicide, that the cause of death was a opiate overdose, and that he was going to repay the debt he owed. Satisfied that he had done all that he needed too, Blake folded the paper up and set it on the bench next to him.
Reaching into the bag, Blake pulled out the first morphine injection, uncapped it, and after taking a calming breath, stuck it into his vein and depressed the plunger. 10mg of morphine raced into his system, and he pulled the syringe out, making sure to cap it before placing it back into his bag.
As he began to pull out the second injection, he heard an unfamiliar voice shout "ZPD! Freeze!"
Dropping the injection in panic, Blake looked up and saw three figures racing in from three different directions. He tried to stand up and run, but the morphine racing through his system made that difficult.
"On the ground! On the ground now!" Another voice shouted, and it sounded far more familiar.
As he sank down onto his knees, keeping his hands up and cursing his luck, Blake tried to figure out the voice. Is that… he thought, and his fears were confirmed as he saw the tail swish, and a fourth officer appeared, a bunny shaped silhouette running towards him from another alley.
As the officers reached him, Blake felt himself filled with the urge to rage, to cry, but the calming effect of the morphine kept him from being able to do so. All he needed to do was lunge; a single attack would get the officers to shoot him, and it would be over, but he couldn't muster the strength to do so.
"Dispatch, Patrol 172. We have 10-15 at this time of suspect drug case, over." He heard Judy say as she walked forward, letting Nick and the other two officers cover him as Blake knelt there, his hands up. Unable to hear the response, Blake could only wait for her to reach him, waiting there as she frisked him down, reading off his rights to him. His tail was hidden by his bag, and the low light prevented her from seeing the color of his fur.
"Do you understand these rights read to you, sir?" He heard her ask, and he just gave a short nod. No need for her to hear his voice.
A sudden blinding light filled his face, and he yelped in slight pain at the brightness. His hands cuffed behind his back, he began to struggle as she went for the hood.
"Sir, stop resisting!" She shouted, before she finally put Blake into a choke hold and yanked off his hood. Blake heard a gasp from Nick, and suddenly the grip around his neck released.
"Blake?" Judy managed to get out, taking a few steps back. "But...Blake, why?" She asked again, looking between him and the bag. "I know you had it rough, but...illegal drugs? You, a dealer?"
Blake just shrugged. If they thought he was a dealer, that was fine with him. He wouldn't fight the case; he would confess and go to jail. He had a high likelihood of being killed there, anyways.
Hearing a heavy sigh, he listened as Judy searched his bag. Nick moved over to join her, while the other two officers, a polar bear and and cheetah, both moved Blake over to the patrol car, waiting for orders to put him into the back.
Blake watched as Nick and Judy searched, watched as they put both the syringes into evidence bags. He could see the sadness in Judy's movements, like she was arresting an old friend, or doing something wrong. Nick moved with more of a purpose, searching for something. Blake scanned the ground with his eyes, and finally managed to find what he was looking for: his note. Underneath the bench, he knew that Officer Hopps would be unable to find it, but if they had been watching him, they might be looking for it. A cold sweat broke out on his body, as we waited, praying.
After several minutes, Judy abandoned the search and walked over, joining the two other officers. They began to discuss the sting the evidence they had gathered, while Nick kept searching. Blake could only watch with horror as he finally got down and searched underneath the bench, closing his hands around the note Blake had written.
He stood up, dusting his knees off, and began to walk over to everyone, unfolding the note. Blake closed his eyes for a second, and then opened them. He was weak and unsteady, and the morphine was making it almost impossible to focus now that the adrenaline from the sudden appearance was leaving his system.
Blake watched as Nick's eyes widened, and he looked up from the note to look at Blake. With what little attention he had left, Blake barely noticed the sadness and compassion in his eyes. Unable to focus on the conversation, Blake watched as the officers all convened and began to discuss something. After a few moments, Nick walked up to Blake.
"How much did you take." He asked quietly, as Blake watched Judy speak into her radio, while the other two officers turned and walked up the street towards the station.
"Ahhmm...10...10mgs" Blake managed to get out, but it was so hard to focus, to stay alert.
"Anything mixed in?" He asked, as Judy walked up and nodded at Nick.
"N-no." Blake managed to say, and he felt the cuffs on his hands being released. He wanted to turn and run, to fight, to force them to kill him, but he was so tired.
"Ok. Let me know if you start to feel anything but sleepy, ok?" Nick helped to get Blake into the back of the police cruiser.
"Ok." Blake let Nick guide him down into the set, and let them buckle him into the back. The door shut with a bang that seemed louder than normal,and the two officers go into the front seats of the vehicle.
"Chief's okay-ed it. I'm just..god." Judy said, and Nick nodded. "Let's roll. Fast." He said, looking back at Blake.
Blake tried to focus on Nick's face, but he was just really tired. As blue and red lights began to flash, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the loud wail of the siren as he slowly lapsed into a state of unconsciousness.
So, this is my longest chapter, and also the darkest. This is probably as dark as the story will get, but I'm not 100% sure yet myself. The story is still writing itself, so that may be subject to change. Thank you once again to everyone who has viewed the story, and happy reading!