Good morning everyone!
I know it's been a bit, but rest assured, the next update will be posted much quicker. I have written it and it just needs to be edited. (online schooling is seriously the worst)
As always, thank you to my lovely beta, Marie Allen who took time out of her busy schedule to beta read these chapters for me!
Also a giant thank you to all of you who have reviewed and continued reading this story, you guys are awesome!
And now, please enjoy!
Chapter 24
Finnick stared at the sky, just able to make out the flag at City Hall flying at half-mast.
Shifting his focus to his feet and closing his eyes, he listened to the wind as it gently rustled through the leaves, the day bright and sunny, belying the sombre mood of the assembling mammals.
Utter chaos had erupted the moment after Nick had hit the ground, blood pooling beneath his immobile body.
Finnick had stood frozen, watching as ZPD officers swarmed the area, voices raised in panic and anger, paramedics rushing to Nick's side, the unconscious hyena muzzled and strapped to a stretcher.
A ZPD officer, a lion, had appeared before him, talking with him, but he couldn't hear anything over the high-pitched ringing in his ears.
His world had narrowed to the pinpoint awareness that his best friend's blood, Nick's blood, was splattered across his face and chest and he saw black spots crowd the edges of his vision before his attention had been caught by a small, limp ball of dirty grey fur carefully placed upon a stretcher.
Paramedics were frantically talking with each other as they quickly examined Judy, their expressions concerned and anxious, the stretcher quickly whisked away.
This had given Finnick hope that he had been wrong, and that Judy had still been alive.
The lion must have left, a pronghorn wearing a paramedic's uniform taking his place, assessing him, but he had been unable to reply to the barrage of questions, hitting the ground as shock and exhaustion finally caught up with him. The next thing he knew he was waking up in the hospital, a very grim Chief Bogo at his side.
Pushing away this painful remembrance, Finnick opened his eyes, took a shuddering breath, and struggled not to crack; to crumble and give into the debilitating grief that crashed through him like a brutal, relentless wave that threatened to drive him to his knees.
Surreptitiously brushing a tear that had managed to escape, he watched the mourners slowly settle into chairs that had been set out in neat, organized rows, the ZPD from Precinct One standing at attention on either side of the graves, dressed in their finest uniforms, faces stern with anger, grief, and resolve.
In slow, measured tones, standing at his hospital bedside, Chief Bogo had informed him that neither Nick nor Judy had survived their injuries.
His heart had twisted with despair and his fingers had dug into the hospital sheets that covered his battered, weary body.
He had felt sick.
"Someone shot Nick," he had bit out in furious anger.
"Yes," Chief Bogo acknowledged in a stiff voice.
"The hyena and wolverine?" he asked when he realized the buffalo wasn't going to elaborate.
"In stable condition, detoxing from the drug they were given."
Finnick had stared at the buffalo with accusing eyes. The two mammals who had been just as jacked up as Nick were alive, but they had shot Nick.
Granted, the hyena had been unconscious, and the wolverine may have been in the same state, but still. They had taken out one of their own without any hesitation when Finnick knew there were non-lethal options, like tranques, and they had used the lethal one instead.
"Who?" he had snarled, not having to explain his question, claws tearing through cotton sheets and digging into the pads of his paws.
"It is under investigation," Chief Bogo had replied and Finnick could only stare at the large mammal in shock.
"You don't know?" he asked incredulously.
"The matter is still being investigated," came the terse, repetitive, non-answer reply, the buffalo looking uncomfortable.
Finnick had opened his mouth, about to let out a furious tirade of the utter ineptitude and speciest bullshit endemic within the ZPD, but Chief Bogo cut him off by asking him if he was close to the rabbit he had been seen with earlier and if he happened to know if he had any close family.
Finnick felt his stomach drop.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he honestly didn't think he could take any more bad news.
"The buck didn't have any I.D. and he-"
"I don't know his name," he had interrupted. He hadn't bothered to ask, he hadn't cared.
Except he had.
The rabbit had impressed him and that was something damn near impossible to do. Finnick wouldn't even have minded being thrust into the buck's presence if he happened to be around when he was visiting Nick and Judy, but now…
A fresh wave of grief crashed into him, tearing him free from his moorings and tossing him back out into the unforgiving sea to struggle and gasp for air while the sorrow attempted to drown him.
Growing up in Happytown, he had learned to never get attached. Mammals died, disappeared, disappointed, and betrayed. Never trust anyone. It was why he never bothered with names, giving anyone he had to interact with a nickname. Then Nick had come along and he cared enough to push the red fox away from him and out of Happytown, towards a better, safer life. But the younger fox had come back and dragged him unwillingly out of Happytown and Nick had honestly been the only mammal he cared about, whom he trusted…
Until Bunny Cop, Judy, had stormed into their lives and he hadn't realized how complacent he had become, allowing the doe to slip into his life and his heart, and now the buck had been right on the fringes of mammals he could tolerate, who he could care about, but life was a cruel bastard and he should have known better than to get attached because it only ever ended in one way: Finnick surviving impossible odds while the mammals around him didn't.
"He just got out of surgery a few minutes ago," Bogo informed him, Finnick's stricken, misery filled thoughts grinding to a halt.
"He's alive?" he had asked, voice cracking as it rose with hope.
Chief Bogo's expression remained grim. "He is," he affirmed slowly and Finnick could hear the 'but' hanging at the end of his reply. "He's in the ICU in critical condition, but the doctors are not very optimistic for his recovery. If he had gone to the hospital earlier…" his words trailed off.
The rabbit had been instrumental in saving the mammals from the horror of the Pit and then in figuring out how to find Nick and Judy. The ZPD had responded quickly, possibly due to the rabbit's intervention as opposed to Finnick's phone call.
The buck had saved a lot of lives and deserved better, so did Nick and Judy.
"You catch the bastard who ran this whole operation?" he had asked with barely contained fury.
Chief Bogo's expression shifted into an angry mask. "We are still searching for him. We made numerous arrests, high-level politicians, members of Zootopia's elite, as well as some of the lower level members, but none seem to be the ringleader. Whoever he is, he hid his identity well and none of his subordinates seem inclined to talk. But we will get him," he had promised and though Finnick held the oath to be of little value, he knew that the buffalo intended to try and keep it.
The politicians would get away with a slap on the wrist. They hadn't been involved, only buying what was being sold; charged with illegal gambling and watching illegal fighting matches. They would get a fine, if that, same with the rich bastards who could buy their way out of everything. The Jimmys and Franks of the organization would have the book thrown at them unless they made a deal and gave up their boss, but considering the operation, it would amount to a death sentence if they snitched, so Finnick didn't give out much hope for them to cooperate.
Now, standing before the two coffins draped with the flag of the ZPD, Finnick felt his ebbing emotions stir into a riotous rage.
It had been a week and there was nothing, no new leads on whoever was responsible for the Events and no knowledge of who had pulled the trigger and killed Nick.
Nick had died of a gunshot wound to the chest, Judy had died of her numerous injuries, blamed on the hyena and wolverine.
Finnick wasn't sure if that was true.
It was possible Nick hadn't crushed the doe in his jaws, burying his dying prey to hide it from the other predator, but in the end, it didn't matter if he had or not. Not really. Judy had not survived the trip to the hospital, and neither had Nick.
Small mercies he supposed.
Not so much for those left behind.
The rabbit, Freddy, whose name he had learned after family had identified him from the news coverage, still clung to life, hooked up to too many machines, and as there had been no improvement in his condition, the doctors believed it would only be a matter of time before he succumbed to his injuries.
After Finnick had been released from the hospital, his side stitched closed and the offer of a counsellor swiftly rejected, he had found his way to the ICU. He had not wanted to visit the rabbit, only family -a rabbit and a hare- were allowed in, but he got Chief Bogo to talk with hospital staff to allow him in because he needed to have a quiet word with his rescuer. He had spoken a few words to Freddy's parents, gruffly telling them that their son had saved his life before getting permission to have a moment alone with their son.
Sitting beside the buck, the verve of Freddy's personality painfully absent making him look small, delicate, and fragile, Finnick had barely been able to speak. He didn't tell him of Nick and Judy's deaths, that was a conversation for another day, one in the future when Freddy was awake and alert, and instead, Finnick had snarled at him in a very low and threatening voice that he was pissed off at hearing that Freddy was in such a bad way.
"You fucking idiot," he had hissed. "If you were so damn hurt why the hell did you insist on coming with me?"
He hadn't received a reply and he already knew the answer, but this didn't' stop him from giving the buck shit anyway. Getting ready to leave, he had told Freddy that he had better stay alive.
Finding himself visiting the buck everyday, he dreaded waking up every morning, fearful that Freddy had died on him during the night.
It was ridiculous.
He had sworn he wouldn't get attached to anyone else, yet here he was, getting attached to a mammal who wasn't supposed to make it. Yet every day he would make his way to the hospital to sit beside the unconscious rabbit, clinging to him like a twisted lifeline.
Freddy was the only one Finnick knew who was as tied to Nick, Judy, and the Feral Red incident like he was, and if the buck died...
Finnick didn't know how much of his sanity he would have left.
The mammals that had been freed were all traumatized, especially the hyena and wolverine. Unlike the captive mammals, the two predators didn't remember what they had done, but had been told about it, and that was horrific enough.
The police had cordoned off the area around the barn, sifting through evidence and digging up the remains of the mammals that had lost their lives. Finnick had stopped watching the news, the body count climbing, and knowing that he was responsible for more than a few of those deaths himself.
No one questioned his actions or any of the other survivors while they had been forced to fight in the Pit. Instead, the police laid the blame squarely at the feet of their captors, any atrocities committed by the survivors accepted as self-defence.
Finnick looked over the rows of seats, hunching over slightly, and shoving his paws in his pocket. Scowling, he made his way to his seat.
A minister had orated the funeral, the building crowded with the citizens of Zootopia, mammals spilling out into the streets as they mourned their lost heroes. Sitting through the service had been difficult, mostly because the mammal presiding over the funeral did not know Nick or Judy personally, and it was hard listening to someone who related stories and history like they had.
The closed casket service had concluded and an honour guard had followed the hearse through the city streets and into the cemetery. Six officers from Precinct One had reverently carried the coffins to the gravesite. This ceremony was smaller, more intimate; family, friends, and ZPD only.
Chief Bogo stood behind a wooden stand, giving the graveside eulogy, and Finnick could find no fault in this.
The buffalo's voice was deep and melodious, catching every now and then as he talked about the two partners with genuine affection. He remarked on their bravery, determination, sacrifice, and their embodiment of the values of the ZPD, in action and in heart.
Finnick tipped his head back slightly, blinking swiftly, as if doing this would stop the tears that were blurring his gaze from slipping down his cheeks.
The Precinct One officers all saluted the caskets one final time as Chief Bogo finished. Four officers separated from the lines, stepping forward and folding the flag into a neat square, presenting one to Judy's parents and the other to Finnick.
Nick had no family, Finnick was the closest thing there was, and so he received the flag, as if a piece of cloth would in any way replace his friend.
Bitter anger flowed through him. He would never have been able to receive the flag with any sort of equanimity. Nick and Judy's actions had saved so many mammals' lives, including his own, and had shut down a fighting ring like none other, but the fact that the Precinct One officers were giving them a funeral, when one of the ZPD had killed Nick and let the bastard who had perpetrated the whole operation escape…
The fabric was heavy in his paws, but he held the blue flag, emblazoned with the ZPD shield, reverently in his paws.
Judy's parents were holding each other tightly, the doe sobbing into the buck's chest and Finnick felt his heart break.
The rage he felt vanished as guilt bubbled up within him. If he had been faster, smarter, fought harder, protected Judy better, at least the doe might have lived.
Closing his eyes for a moment, a tear slipped down his cheek. No one would have mourned his loss, but Finnick had survived and Judy hadn't and now her parents were suffering.
Shoulders slumping, he slid from his chair, the music playing, indicating the end of the service, watching as the caskets were slowly lowered into the ground.
There was a moment of silence before the mourners slowly began to drift away. Finnick knew he should say something to Judy's parents, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The guilt was too great and he didn't have words to express how much knowing Judy meant to him, but also how much she had meant to Nick.
"Finnick?" a soft voice stopped him in his tracks, his shoulders drooping with acceptance. Straightening, he turned around and met the gaze of the two rabbits staring down at him. "You…you were Nick's friend."
Finnick's kitnapping, rescue, and his relationship with Nick had been plastered all over the news. Everyone knew who he was.
"Yeah," he answered in a voice that cracked slightly, probably from disuse.
"We are so sorry for your loss," Judy's mother said, fighting back tears even though Finnick was the one who should be giving his condolences to them.
He was Nick's friend. They had lost a daughter.
"Thanks," he choked out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Judy was…" he paused trying to think of the right thing to say. "Stubborn," he finally settled on the word. It wasn't appropriate, but it was apt.
Both rabbits gave watery smiles.
"You have no idea," her father said.
"She was one of the few mammals I could stand," he admitted. "She was Nick's friend, then she became his partner, and then she managed to worm her way into my life, and…" he trailed off, giving a cough.
"Judy….Judy was good at that," her mother sobbed out with a laugh.
"Nick loved her," he told them because they had a right to know.
They glanced at him briefly before they shifted their gazes to each other, a conversation without words passing between them. Judy's mom clutching at her husband's arm.
"We know. Judy loved him too," her mom murmured.
Finnick gave a nod. Whether they really understood or not, he wasn't sure, he had said his piece and he honestly had nothing else left to say.
"Thanks," he said over his shoulder. "For letting me know her."
Finnick didn't wait for them to answer, scurrying away, clutching the flag to his chest.
He had another rabbit to visit.
Ben Gahl stood before the freshly dug graves, his mouth turned down in a frown. There were no headstones, not yet, those would come later, but the corpses of his enemies lay beneath six feet of dirt and he thought he would feel better about it.
The fox and the rabbit were dead, but his whole operation had been shut down, his clients arrested, and he was now in the unenviable position of being Zootopia's most wanted.
Not that they would be able to easily find him. Everyone knew him as Shere Khan, and they would never be able to connect anything back to him. He had left no paper trail, nor did anyone but his most trusted minions know him. The rest were dead.
It was a shame.
He had known that one day everything would come crashing down around his ears. It was why he made sure to create an escape plan. It had been implemented sooner than he would have hoped, but he knew it was an inevitability.
Nothing could last forever.
Still, the hatred that flowed through him at the two mammals buried at his feet was deeper and more vindictive than he could have predicted.
Fury still burned within him, the death of the fox and rabbit doing nothing to assuage the animosity he had for the two mammals that had caused his empire to crumble.
Their deaths were not a satisfactory recompense, but he would have to be content with the outcome.
He had known his Pit operation would be shuttered. He still had no idea how the mammals had escaped and brought the ZPD down on them, but the Pit was easily replaced. He was accepting of this loss. It would take time and effort to put everything in place and a waiting period to allow the eye of the ZPD to waver, but precautions had been taken to separate the Pit from the Barn.
The tunnel used to transport the mammals back and forth had been collapsed soon after the breach had been detected, yet the ZPD had found his Black Event anyway.
The disaster would be analyzed and extra precautions taken for his next venture, but the Black Events were the ones that pulled in the greatest amount of revenue, the ones where he was able to have the greatest amount of influence to blackmail those who wanted to step out of line or go against his express wishes concerning matters that were important to him.
His power was strong and ran deep within all levels of government and well into the justice department.
For all of this, he had still been brought down by a fox and a bunny and as he ground his teeth together in rage, he knelt.
"Your think you have won, and I admit, you did win a small victory, a mere battle, but I will win the war because I am here to finish it and you…you are dead."
"Sir?" Clawson asked from over his shoulder where he had been standing, waiting for him to finish his ill-advised stop in the graveyard.
"A minute," he said keeping his attention on the graves in front of him. He reached out and picked up a carrot pen nestled within a bouquet of flowers. He placed it in his front pocket.
He turned and strode to the road where his car was parked, Clawson waiting for him.
Taking out the pen, he dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath his shoe.
He recognized the pen from the Bellwether trial. He knew it was a recording device and he figured it was better to be safe than sorry, even if he knew there was no one to operate the pen.
Clawson opened the back door for him. He slid into the back seat of the vehicle, the Timber wolf closing the door, walking around to the driver's seat and getting into the vehicle.
The car pulled away, his next stop, a safe place to lay low for a little while, getting his affairs in order, and planning his next moves.
Mr. Big tapped his fingers impatiently, staring out the tinted window into the darkness of the cemetery from his white, furry perch.
There were times when he felt as if he was getting too old for underhanded subterfuge, and this was one of them, but this operation required his presence. It was too important and too personal to leave his subordinates unattended and unsupervised.
He, like many in Zootopia, mourned the loss of the two ZPD heroes, anger flowing through him as Fru Fru bawled her eyes out at the loss of her friend and the godmother of her daughter.
The need to find who was responsible and making them pay was his top priority. A mammal had dared to go after a bunny who was family and though he would never forgive Nick for selling him the skunk-butt rug he had buried his mother in, the bunny loved the fox, which meant Nick was family adjacent, and for that alone, the tiger had to pay. It was a matter of pride, honour, and survival.
The other crime bosses, the Darkmane pride, Boris Rundle, the Blacktails and Greywards all knew that Judy Hopps was off limits.
If he didn't retaliate, if it was known that he didn't protect his own, that he wouldn't seek the kind of vengeance that gave the other crime bosses nightmares, then he would lose his status, his kingdom would crumble, and all his kin, his family, would lose their lives, and he refused to let that happen.
When the news of the warehouse explosion broke and Mr. Big had learned that Judy and Nick were involved, he was powerless to do anything about it. Happytown was a patchwork of small gangs and petty criminals that fought with each other over territory, clients, and prestige. There was no one who controlled the area for him to make sure they understood his extreme displeasure at their actions.
Having an independent with an operation spanning from Happytown to Sahara Square was galling and he knew the Blacktails and Greywards were furious that this tiger had been running a gambling ring right beneath their noses.
However, with the ZPD focused on the casinos and the criminal element in Sahara Square, both families were unable to do anything in retaliation.
Mr. Big was not under any scrutiny, and in fact, was freer to operate with impunity than he usually would be.
The cemetery was neutral territory, but he was going to act anywhere the tiger went, regardless of whose territory the tiger ended up in.
His phone buzzed dragging him from his dark thoughts. Checking the message, he read:
Sending the audio file. Tailing the tiger. Tracking device in place.
He released a breath.
"You sure your guy can handle this?" a voice queried.
Glancing over at the dark figure sitting on the seat next to Koslov he didn't reply immediately.
Mr. Big had assumed his companion was asleep or unconscious, and though he would have been pursuing the actions he currently was engaged in, he had been given pertinent, inside information on the tiger, and he was only glad to aid in a vendetta.
"My son-in-law is the best I have," he replied. "He's sending over the audio file right now. The tracker is already on the car and he'll hitch a ride, stay with the tiger, and report his movements."
His companion didn't acknowledge his words, the silence of the car thick with tension. Mr. Big broke the silence by offering, "I could just Ice 'im."
Emerald green eyes turned to him, riotous and burning with hatred. Lips pulling away from his teeth in a vindictive, feral grin he intoned, "Icing is too good for him," he stated viscously. "Besides," he began, his voice softening, "Judy promised him that he would be arrested and marched through the front doors of Precinct One, and even though she won't be the one to do it, I'll make sure it happens."
Look, no cliffie! Only a soul crushing chapter...