Zootopia belongs to Disney. Elements borrowed from Spider-Man belong to Sony.


"Let me see your radio, please," said Rhinowitz holding out his hand for the third time.

"Just use your phone."

"I don't have one, you know that! I always end up breaking them."

"Ok, well show me the remains and I'll consider asking Wolfard to let you borrow his. Cause I wanna make sure you don't break mine."

"Aw, shut up!"

McHorn snorted a chuckle. The rhinos strutted quickly down the hospital hallway toward Wolfard's room. He himself had been there at the bank, but had barred the back and side doors and had been staking out near the front door lest the thieves managed to escape. But strangely enough, he hadn't even seen them leave. He also hadn't seen Rhinowitz's short cut to the bottom floor, since that had occurred... yeah, at the back of the bank.

He had yet to hear about this strange and unforgettable encounter that Rhinowitz had just had.

Rhinowitz kept rubbing his wrists and groaning softly, though McHorn didn't seem to notice.

They reached Wolfard's room and walked in to see the wolf holding an ice pack to his eye. He didn't look too bad. Aside from a swollen orbital socket. And a busted lip... and a bunch of bruises... and possibly a broken nose...

Rhinowitz frowned. Whoever had knocked the wolf out - he figured it could have been either criminal. Wolfard was a great fighter - one of the best at Precinct 1 - but even he had his limits. It didn't matter. He was just glad both of them were all right for the most part. Things could have gone much worse.

"Hey, John, how're ya doing?" The cold pack rustled under his cheek as he closed his other eye and nodded in answer.

Now, are you going to tell me exactly what is going on? What happened?" asked McHorn with his perpetually annoyed expression, though a kind of perplexed concern was somewhere in the mix.

"Yeah, what happened up there?" echoed Wolfard. "Why did I wake up in an ambulance all of a sudden? That only happens when I'm the designated driver for you morons," he joked with a chuckle. Ironically, none of them had been drunk that day he was referring to. Wolfard had been driving them all back to the precinct from a downtown bar that had been robbed only to - wouldn't you know it - t-bone the robber. They ended up taking the thief in by his own car. Wolfard snorted shortly at the memory, but winced at the pain it caused his poor nose.

Rhinowitz put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor like a kid caught stealing. He paced slowly in front of the wolf and fellow rhino. Something was definitely on his mind. Normally it took a lot more than a failed assignment to put him down this far. Finally, he looked up. "I honestly don't know anything about these guys. I don't know if anyone does, really. At least, not this one guy... I'm not sure how to word it."

"Which one?" asked Wolfard.

"The smaller one."

"Really? All things considered, I feel like I got the shorter end of the stick!"

"Oh, trust me, you didn't. I can't explain it reasonably, but this was not a normal mammal. I'm pretty sure he was a feline. Based on how tall he is, the sound of his growling - even with a mask on, it was pretty clear to me he's in the cat family. Maybe a leopard or cougar or something, probably juvenile."

"You keep saying 'probably,' a cat, 'maybe' a kid," interjects McHorn. "Was it that hard to tell? And why's that a problem? You deal with kids all the time. What, did you two get into it?"

"You saw the broken glass out there, right? The broken window? We passed it and I pointed it out."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I went out that window."

Wolfard's eye widened a bit. "And... you're not where I am right now... why?"

"...that's the weird part," he said slowly. "The kid was the one who threw me out of it like I was fourteen-fifty pounds lighter. He was stronger than anyone I've ever fought. He even crushed my radio. That's why..." he growled impatiently as he walked up to McHorn "...I need to see yours!" He reached for it.

McHorn grabbed his hand and pulled it away before shoving him. Rhinowitz winced in pain and grabbed his wrist. "I already called for assistance if that's what you're looking for! They're searching the building right now! Heck, if you wanted you could have just gone straight to the station!" He cursed. "What, you think I'm sitting out there with my thumb jammed firmly up my..."

"No, I want to send out a 10-35!"

"For what! You're not making any sense! A kitten threw you out of a window? That sounds like something from a movie! How would anyone do that so easily?!"

"I just told...!" He sighed and rubbed the back of his head to keep himself calm before he got too riled up. None of this made sense. "Look... I've never dealt with anyone like this before. I hit him as hard as I could... you know our punches can crack concrete... but..." his eyebrows lifted, half in amazement, half in bewilderment "...I couldn't even slow him down."

"Ok, so... what? Was he on PCP or something?" McHorn chuckled. "You probably shattered his face and he didn't even feel it!"

"No, no no no. I've taken down plenty of guys on PCP who're three times his size with half the effort! But I couldn't even get a grip on him. It was like fighting a semi truck! He literally picked me up and tossed me out the window like I was a pillow!"

"And please, Harry," said Wolfard with polite sarcasm, "please tell us how you made it through that completely unharmed." He showed his black eye and shook the cold pack for emphasis. "Because unless I lost more than half my brain cells in my all-too-fun scuffle back there, I'm pretty sure I remember that we were three stories up. You might live through that, but you ain't even got a limp. Or a scratch, for that matter."

"I don't know. I'm still having trouble believing it."

"Well, might as well tell us since you already look like a complete idiot."

"James, come on, let's hear him out," said Wolfard.

"Yeah, I know." He held up a finger to the wolf before turning back to Rhinowitz. "Whatever happened, you're alive. So what happened? How'd you make it through that without a scratch?"

Rhinowitz gives up trying to explain in a way that makes sense. "I just... heh," he chuckled "...it's like... he used a kind of rope to catch me. Or a spider web. I don't know how, but..." he shrugged "...that's what happened."

"Ok, so we got something to work with." He turned to Wolfard. "Once I get 'im in the psych ward, I'll get you outta here."

Rhinowitz turned and scoffed, though not without a hint of a sardonic smile. Wolfard grinned and quickly let the corners of his mouth back down to alleviate the pain of contracting his swollen muscles facial muscles. He settled for laughing with a forced frown - it looked pretty funny. He knew where McHorn was heading the moment he questioned him about falling out the window.

"Come on, buddy, it's ok," McHorn egged as the two of them left, "I'll get you your applesauce, don't worry." They shut the door. McHorn grasped his shoulder with one hand and patted the front of his shirt with the other and said, "Ah, what a night." He wiped something off on his partner's shoulder. "Eugh, what is that, did you fall on something? What is that on your shirt?"

"You think I made that up?" asked Rhinowitz, ignoring his question.

"Yes, obviously."

"Ok, look, I know I can be a little prone to exaggerating..."

"Like when you 'exaggerated' pulling me out of a heap of smoldering rubble when in actuality you knocked over a briquette grill and set my tent on fire? The 'rubble' that was my poor, ruined tent? Ruined the best trip of the year for me and my two dear sons. My wife wanted to shove her foot up your rear."

Grr, is this Wilde in a McHorn costume?

"Or that guy you smacked last week because he stole your wallet? And you told me later he tried to rob a bank?"

"He wasn't trying to steal my wallet, he tried to bite me. He was on NH-plus, if you remember correctly; you saw the footage. And it was at the bank; I never said he tried to rob it."

"Right, that's right, I forgot about that. But no, I get it. You just like to make a story... juicy, y'know? You ain't a liar, you just add a few details. And trust me... it's not hard to tell what those details are; they keep getting more and more ridiculous."

"Don't you have something better to do than throw me under the bus?"

"No, we have something better to do. And we're doing it now. You wanted to talk to Bogo, that's where we're headed. And please don't tell him the part about you falling out the window. The fairy princess kicking your butt, that's fine. But not that other part."

Rhinowitz rolled his eyes as McHorn followed him down the hallway. He couldn't believe McHorn thought he was pulling this out of thin air. Sure, Rhinowitz was known to exaggerate at times when he told stories about rough cases he'd been through as a beat cop, he couldn't deny it. But why would he embellish one like this? He'd never exaggerate the account of how his friend and colleague got hurt. Granted, he wasn't hurt badly, but he always took on-the-job risks seriously. And McHorn and Wolfard both knew it. Besides, he'd never been known to do that either in court or when debriefing. Still, he had to stop that bad habit if it was making getting a point across this difficult; it was clear he was not quite a trustworthy witness, at least in his partners' eyes. One way or another, he didn't feel like it would be long before another officer got in this kid's way. Or a citizen for that matter. Someone that dangerous, and that young... the ZPD needed to be fully aware of a threat like this. He just wished he had been able to get backup there sooner. Perhaps they could have taken him in somehow.

He groaned in pain. His wrists were killing him. He was not surprised in the slightest to see that his wrists were beginning to swell up - he felt them filling the empty space of his cuffs. The fact that they'd been crushed and then further stressed by his fight could not be healthy. He unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve to alleviate some of the pressure. His eyes widened at the sight under the cuff. He undid the other one and held his hands in front of him. He froze in the middle of the hallway. Whoever this kid was... he had never met anyone with this kind of strength, let alone someone his size.

"James." McHorn stopped in front of him to see the aftermath of his fight with the robber and recoiled at the alarming sight of the dark grey-purple rings wrapping themselves fully around the rhino's wrists like splotchy tattoos. Several pronounced dark areas where fingers compressed the flesh marked each wrist. It was clear now that he would need some mild treatment for his wrists, at minimum. He'd probably strained the joints. McHorn was frozen in unpleasant surprise. He had never seen this tough rhino with such an injury before.

"Believe me now?" asked Rhinowitz with a touch of sarcasm as he held up his hands.

With a face more grim than usual, McHorn took his radio and held it out to the fellow rhino. He didn't hesitate. "Gaines, come in, over."

An alto female voice responded. "Yeah I'm here. Come back, over."

"Listen up. McHorn, Wolfard and I just came from our stakeout position. Targets are two felines dressed in black, the taller of the two likely named John. I'm calling a 10-35. Over."

"Roger. What's the message? Over."

"This might sound a little strange, so bear with me. Here's the message: 'Warning: If you see two individuals wearing black body suits with black mask, do not, repeat, do not engage alone. Extremely dangerous. Two felines, adolescent and adult, one three to four feet, the other about five feet. If you see either, call for plenty of backup immediately.' End of message. Over."

"I got it. I'll send it out. Over."

"And that goes for Futsbaur too!" he asserted sternly, "I don't care what she says. Over."

Gaines huffed. "I know, right? Worse than Hopps. Over."

If she makes yet another mess that I have to clean up, I'm going to trample her, he thought as he handed the radio back to the speechless rhino and walked toward the pharmacy to pick up some supplies for his wrists. He thought things had been bad enough with one bunny. But two? Huh! Twice the devastation. Who knew they were such effective fighters? He certainly didn't. At least not until he saw the footage of Hopps - legally Wilde - knocking a fellow rhino's lights out with one kick at the academy. And she had only gotten faster and stronger with further training. Come to think of it, the better choice to fight someone such as this animal who nearly broke both of his wrists with little effort... may very well be a bunny.

He made it to the pharmacy, a quaint little room. Key word, little. He looked at the double glass doors, thinking how to best get through them without breaking the glass. He pinched the handles and pulled the doors open before crawling to get through the opening. He just knew at least ten or so mammals were staring at him as he wiggled through the doors.

He stood up and nearly banged his head on the ceiling before shimmying past the rows of over-the-counter whatzits to get to the front desk. He felt very claustrophobic in the cramped space. This hospital was built closer to areas where prairie dwelling mammals and smaller animals in general were more likely to reside within the Savannah area, so the infrastructure was designed mainly for their sake. Not so much for a fifteen-hundred pound rhinoceros. "Excuse me," he said when he reached the sales clerk.

The otter sitting there, who had somehow completely missed this whole show by merit of the brightly lit screen in her hands, looked up. "How can I help y-?" the otter's eyes slowly moved upward from his waist to his face. He smiled apologetically when she made it there. He could still feel eyes on his back. "Oh... ok, um... how can I help you, sir?"

Thoroughly embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm, uh, looking for some sports tape. Or a wrist brace..."

Her eyes darted to the side and back but her expression didn't change. "I don't think we... er, um," she began to correct herself. "Sports tape is right behind you."

He rolled his eyes and snorted. He knew why she'd hesitated. They didn't have any wrist braces his size. Of course not. Why would they? He knew exactly how many rhinoceri were in this exact hospital receiving treatment for physical trauma, or any other hospitals in the area: zero point zero. It was a well-known fact everywhere that rhinos were amongst the toughest and strongest land mammals. He himself maxed out at around thirty-five hundred pounds on the crusher at the gym near the precinct. So a rhino being in here... yep, there were those eyes watching him: a bunch of teens standing outside the door, filming him as he shopped for restraining tape. He should've gone to the sporting goods center at the mall!

Groaning in annoyance, he grabbed the most expensive tape he could find and tossed it on the counter.

He'd almost never had trouble with this before. Being a rhino had its downfalls, but the number of mammals who had outright confronted him... he could also count that number on one four-fingered hand, even before becoming a cop. And this cat had just become one of them. He was probably the only cat to have ever faced a rhino head on... and won.

After buying the tape, and really wishing he'd gone somewhere else to get this stuff, he shimmied his way back out the door to the delight of the kids watching him. He stood up and grimaced at the smell coming from the kids filming him. Others around him, thankfully, were a bit more understanding, though there were a few snickers. It was just these bozos who were trying to humiliate him.

"Thanks for the show, dude," the goat in the group said with a slur. "The po-po coming to our level is always a great time." He gagged briefly and hiccupped.

"All right, show's over. Go on before I take you in for driving under the influence."

"What?!" the goat stifled a laugh, still filming. He suddenly appeared a bit more lucid. "We aren't driving!"

"Yeah, well, I can smell that booze on your breath. And your keys're right there in your hand." The goat looked down at them. "Yeah, I know you're headed toward the exit, so get a move on before I change my mind," he said with a low voice, looming over the goat. "And you better drive carefully, because not every police officer is so forgiving..."

The group put their phones away and high-tailed it outta there. Or rather, they quickly stumbled in the general direction of the exit. He knew he should call it in but he was far more concerned about another matter. Plus, he still didn't have his radio or a working phone.

Rhinowitz headed out of the hospital. He needed to get to the precinct to write a very long, detailed report.


Why they couldn't drive to and from their jobs was beyond him. Wouldn't it be much more efficient if they didn't have to huff it like this? Danny growled... that stupid elephant! If he had more time he'd go back and hog tie him to the wall. On the outside. At the top of the building. With gradually-disintegrating silk. This whole thing had taken a lot longer than he thought it would because he had tried to back out of his debt. If he was late again, he didn't know what was going to happen.

They had changed out of their black outfits into casual streetwear to avoid suspicion. Though both knew that two cats sprinting through city allies with a duffle bag would look pretty weird, it would at least prevent all alarms from going off altogether at the first sight of them. But John had waited till they were, like, halfway there to change. It had been clear from the very moment the police arrived that they were unprepared for any situation other than ideal. Besides this, both of them were dismayed to discover that John's phone was busted during his fight with that wolf. Thankfully, both he and John had managed to prevent them from calling for backup on both ends.

They had no idea what time it was. Despite their dubious success, Danny was already starting to regret being his partner in enforcement. He was just holding him back. Really, it was all he could do. No matter what he, Sarah, or anyone said about him, he just wasn't good enough. Please, let us get through this, just for tonight...

It had begun to rain, and it didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon.

He bristled when the lion slowed down at a crosswalk. It's clear; why'd he stop?

"Come on!" Danny hissed.

"Espera!" (Wait!) He grabbed Danny before he crossed the street. He nearly lost his arm getting Danny to stop and pulled him back with a grunt.

"Que!" he shouted. (What!) Danny cursed under his breath. For the fourth or fifth time. Suddenly, a speeding red car flew by. He watched as it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. He'd seen that car several times over the years - a street racer named Flash. He still couldn't figure out how a sloth could move so fast in a car... and only in a car. "Oh. Lo siento." (Sorry.)

John took a moment to catch his breath. "Danny, por favor, mira adonde vas." (Please, watch where you're going.) Danny shrugged apologetically. "Ya casi hemos llegado. Just dame..." (We're almost there. Just gimme...) He still didn't move for a moment. He stretched his arms above his head. The sight made Danny wonder. Why was he so different from everyone else? How could he run faster, punch harder, jump higher than others? It was scary to see him so drained of energy after such a short period of time. He could only imagine what would happen if John were carrying this bag of money. He watched the lion anxiously, only growing more nervous the longer he waited until he was bouncing rapidly on his toes. He wanted to get home, not only to get this money back on time, but because, like most cats, he hated rain. And it was beginning to fall.

"Ok, I'm ready," John whispered before running across the street. It was clear he's not ready - he sounded like his chest was about to burst. That fight he'd had with the wolf must have taken a lot out of him. Still, he charged after him.

Fifteen nerve-wracking minutes later, an anxious jaguar and a worn out lion emerged from the last block before his home, nested on the border between Sahara Square and the Savannah. The colossal building loomed in Danny's line of sight over the top of a rusted barbed-wire fence. Their feet tamped over wet mud that, on a sunny day, was dry and cracked. Any and all grass had disappeared from under their feet three dozen feet ago - the effect of being so close to the climate control system embedded in the border. John was really breathing heavily now, and the heat didn't help much. He slowed down as he passed the fence into the clearing with Danny close behind him. The building in front of them had been Danny's home for the past seven years of his life. Well... not this building, per se. This one was just a red herring to mislead law enforcement. Officially, this building had been up for grabs for ten years or so. But unofficially...

The building itself rested on top of the real thing. The whole complex was underground. Danny didn't know exactly what it was built for, but he had heard rumors from some on the inside that the idea was derived from bunny culture. Go figure...

Danny knew exactly where to go. He knew the layout of this place like the back of his hand, both fingers and claws. They ran around the side of the building, on the left, and headed near the back. John groaned once they made it to the door, where he began to wheeze. Laying his palm against the metal-reinforced door, he stopped and reached into his pocket to pull out a plastic card. Danny was dying to get inside. If they were late, he was dead. He watched with burning nerves as John swiped his card in front of the door. A lock clicked and he pulled it open. He peered at a screen on the wall and deflated. "Lo conseguimos." (We made it.)

YES! he screamed inwardly. He set his back against the wall and let the bag slide from his shoulder into the crook in his elbow before collapsing onto the floor, shivering from the discomfort of being soaked from head to tail to toe. Being an enforcer, he was discovering, was much harder than he had originally thought. And much more nerve-rotting. He never imagined it would be this action-packed, for lack of a better word. Despite his strength and his training, he didn't usually seem to have the edge, even against someone closer to his size. Beating that rhino tonight? That was pure luck.

John swiped his card in a machine and the screen read, John Serpiento, 1978. And under it, Daniel Arcturus, 2012.

He could see that John felt the same way he did. Actually, he was a bit worse for wear. His forearms were resting against the wall, his hands over the back of his mane. His mouth was wide open and he gulped down oxygen as if he had just walked across the whole desert square a mile away. A couple minutes later, he stumbled to Danny. "Tu ve... y relajate," he huffed as he slid the bag the rest of the way off Danny's arm and threw it over his back. "Se lo llevare a Sarah." (You go and relax. I'll get this to Sarah.) He turned and lumbered down the hall toward the administrator's office. Danny was grateful that he didn't have to face the Boss' wrath. The money would be hand-delivered by Sarah, the tech wiz and money person.

Meanwhile, John lugged the bag down the hallway. It used to be, he could run for hours, but now even as much exercise as he did, he was still getting tired more easily. That run had taken a lot out of him. When would the serum be complete? Of course, he wanted the experience of power and perpetual youth. Who wouldn't? Danny was blessed to have both.

He knocked on the door to Sarah's room but there was no answer. He opened the door and dropped the bag near the entrance. He had to stop and snicker for the briefest moment at all the posters and other such memorabilia of different bands and artists. She was thirty years old; when was she going to grow up? After closing the door, he lumbered for a cup of coffee to prepare him for work. He definitely needed it after that strenuous run back to the compound.

Once he stepped into the factory, he realized the past fifteen minutes had been a blur. He barely remembered putting on his uniform or even drinking his coffee. Ugh, he needed to get some sleep tonight.

He got to work monitoring the machines as they pumped out little round pellets of lead. The leading product in military funding. The perfect weapon.


10-35 is actually police code for major crime alert, but I'm adapting it here as a warning to be on the lookout.