Chapter 109
Fool

His arms in full swing, his muscles flexing as his footfall thumped upon the laminate floor, Billy Hopps blazed down the corridor, advancing to the space of his sister's temporary domicile. A nurse attempted to question his pretense as he walked by, his mind not even registering the fact.

"Time fur fox'in the fox," he muttered. His mother's intentions were clear to him now: how she had asked him, told him to give Nick a 'visit' by putting him in a room barely a minute walk away, then turning her back so she could pretend her ignorance.

This whole place, this whole city could use a good smack. At least that was Billy's two cents on the matter. Everyone rushing, everything expected instantly, no patience or care for other people, no sense of family or belonging. Nick was no different, spoiled by city life like all the rest of them. Pushy, impatient and in need of...

The buck stopped before the door of anticipation. The fox was quick, he would be strong. "But ahm stronger. Not gonna get Judy none."

He shoved the door open and bounced into the room, his eyes locking onto the color of russet and approaching without delay. The fox was sitting in a chair but stood up like a bolt of sky-fire. He wasn't prepared. Billy had every advantage. He gritted his teeth, rounded his fist, and—

"Come along, Billy," came a forced-cheerful voice, a paw clutching into his swinging arm with surprising force, pulling his fist to a dead stop inches from the fox's face.

"Mah!?"

"Let's go take a walk, shall we? A lovely nice little walk." Billy's assault tsunamied by shock, he followed his mother's pulling grasp.

Span away from the fox, however, his vigor returned. "But wha'bout, wha'bout the fox?"

"Nick's quite comfortable, don't worry."

His mind spinning, the buck sought his brain for his rationality, his reason, his excuse for being where he was and for him to do what he wanted to do. "You said I was th', I was to beat his ass!"

"Mom?" Judy piped in, startled by this latest outcry.

"Nothing, dear." Bonnie soothed back, her whole body language exuberating forced positivity and light-heartedness. "Billy and I are going for a walk."

"Mah— but Mah, I dun wanna—"

"Won't be long. Stay safe, Judy dear!"

Tugging away from the doe's grip, Billy tried in vain to get that one last swing in at the fox. But his feet back-pedaled their steps to the unwavering force that pulled with a gentle immovability upon his arm.

He caught one last look at that russet jacket of fur and cream, pulling against his mother's push, sending death-eyes to the fox with the raised brow and the perplexed expression. The last he saw as the door shut itself behind them was the fox turning to talk to his sister, spreading more deceit with his muddy, dancing tongue.

The doe dragged him from the room and the door shut behind. His confusion and aggression mixing like a bad cocktail, the buck finally tugged his arm away, turning to point at his mother, to snap at her for dragging him out from his duty, from protecting his sis'.

Bonnie's expression quickly changed his intention...

"But... wha's up, Mah? What's up, I though you said me I should—"

"Go back to your room."

"Mah?" There was no shouting in the voice, not even raised temper, but Billy still knew there'd be trouble for him if he pushed against what she wanted even just a little more, despite not seeing anything he'd done wrong.

"I'll follow. I'll be there in a sec. Go wait in your room."

"Yes... Mah."

The buck turned and paced back to the place he had stormed from, hearing behind him the re-opening of that door of awful anticipation.

"Next time, fox," he hissed.

The door which had only just come to rest shot open a second time. Nick's body knotted at the sudden motion, expecting a second bout of half-rabid buck throwing itself at him, his arms raising to try and block whatever was incoming.

"I said," she huffed, "'I' said indeed. Well..."

Nick's blood pressure reduced as the figure of the doe stepped inside. He tried to decrypt her agitated grumblings but didn't have much luck. Apparently, Judy didn't know either with her newly formed question, "Mom?"

"Oh! Judy dear, just thinking something."

Nick could tell from the maternal mammal's startle she had genuinely forgotten they were there, distracted to such an extent by whatever Billy's actions or his presence alone had triggered. She tried to cover it with that same forced-cheer he was quickly coming to see as her signature. It was a high quality fake, Nick noted, almost on par with his own abilities at falsifying emotion.

He lowered back to his seat, an ear twitching in regard to the rabbit. She stuffed her papers back into her bag: the ones she'd been reading before, and had been avoiding letting Nick get a glance at. A peek to Judy told him she had noticed the oddness in the behavior as well. Apparently, she wasn't about to voice it further.

Clearing his throat, the fox sat forwards, lightening his tone to the sound of calm, friendly interest, "Guess you're in a hurry, huh."

"Oh, not a hurry, Nick. Just off to have a word with Billy."

"Thought you were taking a walk?"

"We are, a word with him while we talk."

"About what just... happened?"

"Hm-hmm."

"Anything we should know about?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry."

It came onto his tongue to follow slightly more persistent questioning about what in the heck had just happened, but he let it slide. Nick was already well too aware that he'd only managed to procure an evening with her by a fox's whisker.

His mouth closed and shrugged it off, turning back to the rabbit who deserved his attention far more. Bonnie left the room; whether she gave a final wave or smile in their direction Nick didn't notice.

"How ya holding, sweetbun?" he asked.

"I dunow," she muttered. The fox inclined his head cautiously towards her, the bunny continuing with, perhaps, better news. "I mean, not so bad, guess. The pain's... 'less', ssso..."

"You still sound slurred as a drunk."

"Huh."

"You want anything? Water, more to eat?"

"Yeah, I want some'in. Want to be home, in my bed." She chuckled, softly. "Maybe yours."

"Can't do that right now, Carrots." he uttered, his expression softening. "You'll be outta here in no time though. You'll see." A twitch came to his lip, forming to a slight grin. "Well, if you can keep your paws off leaping to beat up your brother, that is."

"Sure. If your p'omise not to let him catch you off guard like that again. I told you he can be un- impre... unperdictable, sspecially when he's upset or doesn't un'nerstand."

The fox grunted, scratching his claw down the fur upon his arm. He gazed back at the door again, his mind distracted, his vision irritated by the recent traumas and his lack of sleep.

...

Several moments before, as Bonnie and Billy stepped out from within the hospital room of Judy and Nick, another creature stood waiting silently in a storage room close beside. The room smelled thickly of chemicals, to the point she was feeling slightly delirious standing in that enclosed, acrid-smelling place for so long.

Grace Fields dismissed the sense as a placebo, and accepted that, even if it wasn't, what she was here to accomplish was worth far more than her own well-being. To her, even to compare the importance of the two was laughable.

The sound of footsteps came close to pass the door. Hearing only one set, and another door shutting further up ahead, she knew only one mammal was in passing. She made an educated venture, and hoped it'd pay off.

The door slid open, setting a smile upon her features, and she called out to the young buck she had hoped to see, "Hey, Billy."

"Huh? Wha', wassup?"

"You spoke to Nick?"

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I spoke Nick some."

"Let's walk," the lynx said, nodding down the hall, "you can tell me about it."

The two paced back down the corridor, Grace following closely beside Billy. Glancing over to her after a few moment's silence, Billy spoke, "So, w'sup?"

"Did you, um... I mean I've been feeling really off about that conversation I had with you. I don't know how you interpreted it, how you thought about what I said... But I really don't think you should try to beat Nick up."

"Eh, what're you sayin'?"

"Well..." Grace paused, wanting to give some time to thought. She'd already mapped out the whole path of this conversation in her head, naturally, but she had judged it a good idea to give some extra spaces, some few pauses for Billy to catch up and think about what she was saying. "Did you... did you hit Nick while you were there?"

The buck's face froze for several seconds. He glanced to his shoulder, as Fields judged he was checking for the presence of his 'ma' or a nurse. Then he turned back to her, his posture still a little ridged, but otherwise looking normal. "Sure as hell 'ah did, taugh' the fox to mess with a Hopps!"

Taking the pause and odd reaction as just a consequence of the buck's rather lacking intellectual capabilities, the young lynx-officer took his words at face value, soaked a pause of her own to simulate the appearance of shock, and responded.

"Oh... well. Well, oh dear. I was about to say that, whatever we spoke about, and whatever you thought I meant, I really didn't mean that you should actually do it. We were just talking."

"I know, ah get that. Wasn't your idea none anyway. Was... was me Ma, just like we spoke 'bout."

"It was your mother's suggestion you go... see Nick."

"Yeh."

"For sure?"

"Yeah, already smacked the fox 'round, nah trouble from 'im now for sure."

She checked about herself, the buck coming to a stop before what she assumed to be the door to his own temporary room. His pushing paw against the handle and step towards the dim confines confirmed this, though Grace's attention was on a sound coming up the hallway: a quiet, soft-padded footstep she assumed to be that of a rabbit.

"Thanks Billy," she said, an edge of haste entering her tone. "I hope you and your mom have a nice time here as long as you stay."

"Yeah."

"And don't worry about Nick, I think you'll be hearing some good news soon."

She slipped from the room and allowed the door to swing shut behind her, disappearing down a stairway, just far enough to be out of sight from the female rabbit whose presence filled the prior corridor. Bonnie disappeared inside the room, and Fields re-emerged from the stairwell, pacing back to the place where the rabbit and fox sat in quiet convalescence.

...

Anxiety was definitely getting the better of him. It was only from his past life Nick was able to keep a hold on himself: all that time spent in an almost perpetual state of fearing for his position, his reputation in the gang, and by extension his own life. He'd spent a lot of time checking over his shoulder, jumping at shadows, waking from dreamless sleep at an imagined noise to check every inch of his house, pistol in paw.

Nothing he'd lived through before had hurt him quite like this, though. Nothing, save the day he came home to that broken house of dismembered furniture and fractured hopes, of blood and stench and the knowledge of death. That harrowing blur of police inquiry and criminal accusations that followed beyond. The loss of his life, the loss of his hope, the loss of everything he—

"Nick..."

At the voice of soothing softness, Nick moved to look upon the only person he cared about; whose life and friendship alone was enough to give him a sense of purpose in life. Her voice was a question, unsure, delicate, as though she'd read each of his thoughts and memories from the impassive stare he'd been giving. Knowing her, she probably had.

The fox breathed sorrowfully at the sight, right now unable to hide his feelings behind a smile or a light word. What he gazed upon was too hard. She couldn't even turn to look at him, couldn't sit up, couldn't even turn her head to see. By virtue alone of her wide-bunny-field-of-vision was she able to see him sitting beside her, her eyes straining, just like everything else in life felt to the fox just then, for her and for him.

"I'm here for you, Judy. I'm here for you."

Their gazes held, the fox's chest rising as he breathed deeply which stung his nose with the scent of disinfectant. He noticed the twitching of the rabbit's small fingers, the ones which weren't encased in plaster. Sitting forwards without second thought, he slid his fingers to softly touch upon hers.

"I'm not the only one who's suffering. Why don't you head home, take some sleep?"

"Ju—"

"For me?"

A grunt came from the fox. "Did ya have to do that, Judy? I still love you to heck, but did you have to just do that?"

"What?"

"Now I have to choose between doing what you asked, what you want me to: go home and leave you here alone. Or what I feel I should do and be here for you, which is also a bad choice, now, since it's making you feel bad because of guilt or whatever."

Judy stared at the foot of her bed, her large eyes twitching with slow, deliberate thought. The fox's muse traced upwards in those few moments it took for her to formulate a reply, and he sought upon the bandages wrapped around her precious head; the line of bleeding claw marks his mind's eyes still showed to him with harsh vividness.

"You should go at least take a nap, Nick. You want to be here beside me, okay, but doing that helps nothing if you can't even think straight."

"I am thinking straight. It's been one lost night's sleep. You think I can't handle that?"

"What I think..." The rabbit sighed, the fox waited, the fingers around his paw losing their tightness.

"Judy? I... Judy."

"I'm fine, Nick, just... very, very tired." It took only a few seconds for her breathing to slow to a more natural rhythm, but it was several long minutes before the fox drew his paw away and sat back into the hard comfort of the plastic seat.

"Yeah, me too, Hopps. Would've been better if we'd just... stayed in bed all day, said we were sick. None of all this would've happened."

A few feet from the door outside, a young lynx with an Auxiliary's badge for the ZPD paced up from the places beyond. She caught her breath, her heartbeat bounding up beyond its normal smooth thumping.

The tall wood door to the storage room, where she'd stowed herself before, had re-locked itself since closing, an automatic safety precaution she had more than expected: given the nature of what was kept inside.

That in itself didn't fluster her, as it took her only a few moments to pick her way around the mediocre design the lock was created with. Her mind zeroed upon the object she had prepared before, situated where she had placed it there in the darkness.

Some things were easy to smuggle around with her: small bottles and plastic containers. Hypodermic needles and syringes were far less easy to carry unseen, and harder to explain away if found in the possession of one.

She snatched the medical equipment she'd found from searching this storage room, and delicately, gingerly slid it between her belt and her pants, taking as much time as she felt she needed to get it safely resting; without risk of it getting crushed, seen, or piercing her own flesh as she walked.

When she felt prepared, she took a step outside and closed the door behind her, being sure to listen for the click of the lock sliding back into place as it closed.

Her feet carried her to the door, her eyes scoured through the glass, her mind filled itself with infused oxygen, and...

Author's notes:

Hesitance jumps around your mind,

Grooms decision thus chosen blind.

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