Nick felt like the loneliest mammal in the world.

He sat on the roof of the Hopps' house, his knees tucked under his chin. He gripped his legs loosely with both arms, and his tail was instinctively curled around his feet, but it did little to shield him from the rain. He had been soaked to the skin for a while now, but he made no effort to take shelter or to dry himself off.

He was wet, he was cold, he was miserable, and he didn't care.

The sun had probably set by now, but it was impossible to know for sure. The heavy rain fell down from dull, gray clouds that completely blocked the view of the sky beyond. Even though there was no lightning to be seen, nor thunder to be heard, Nick's animal instincts would have normally coaxed him indoors.

But not this time.

This time, he did little more than lower his head a bit further to shield his face from the onslaught of rain drops. He stared down at his tail, but didn't focus his attention on it. In fact, he didn't focus his attention on much of anything. If he let his mind wander too much, it would just hurt him all the more.

He wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep and never wake up again. It felt like everyone in his life hated him. The prey in Zootopia hated him because he was a fox, the predators hated him because he had been with the ZPD, the ZPD hated him because he had quit when they needed him most, and he had quit because the one person he cared about the most felt something worse than hatred toward him.

Judy feared him.

He gripped his legs a little bit tighter at the thought. If any tears were forming on his cheeks, they were masked by the rainwater pouring down his face.

Nick had spent his entire life facing hatred from the world. He was used to it. He expected it. But nothing could have prepared him for this kind of heartbreak—the kind that he was sure would never heal. Everything he had done in his life since he'd met the bunny, he had done for her. Every waking moment of every day for over a year had been focused on her—on doing whatever it took to make her life better. Nick hadn't even been conscious of it at first, but he could see now that it was true. He had loved her.

And she did not love him in return.

She had said as much to her mother, in the conversation he had not meant to overhear. That revelation should not have surprised him, given what she'd put him through these past few weeks, but it still hurt to hear straight from her mouth. He had come out here immediately after—to the roof of her house, where he knew nobody would follow—and had been mentally beating himself up ever since. Of course she didn't love him; she was a bunny, and he was a fox. He should have known that from the day they'd met—that there was never going to be a chance she'd love him. They were friends, sure, but to her, it was never more than that. It would never be more than that. And he was a fool to ever hope for more.

She feared him. And nature dictated that she always would.

He squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of emotions swept through him.

Judy…

"Mind if I join you?"

His eyes snapped open, and he jerked his head to the left. Judy was halfway up the steps leading to the rooftop. A sheepish smile was on her face, which faded quickly when she noticed the red rims around Nick's eyes.

His gaze lingered. He didn't care if she saw him like this; there wasn't anything she could do to him to make him feel worse.

Nonetheless, he threw up his defenses and adopted a neutral expression. He knew Judy pitied him; why else would she pull him from the river and bring him here to be safe? But he didn't want her pity. If he was being honest with himself, he didn't want her here with him at all. It hurt just to look at her, to think about her. His heart already felt like it had been stabbed with a knife, and it seemed every time he listened to what she had to say, the knife twisted.

All the same, it was her home, and he was her guest.

He tore his eyes away from her and went back to staring at his feet. Judy took that as silent consent and finished her climb onto the roof. She sat a foot or two away from the fox, resting her paws on her knees.

They sat in silence for a while. The cold rain continued to fall, soon soaking Judy just as much as Nick. He patiently waited for her to speak up, figuring she had something she wanted to talk about to bring her out here, but she remained silent. He glanced over to her, trying to get a read on her face.

She was looking down at her knees. Her eyes darted back and forth, and she bit down softly on her bottom lip, deep in thought. She did want to tell him something, but she was having a hard time finding the words.

So he decided to help her along.

"I know you're scared of me."

It was a low blow, but he didn't care. He had been hurt enough lately that he just didn't care anymore. Any filter he used to have was gone. All he cared about now was getting this conversation over with.

Judy's eyes met his. Her eyebrows raised slightly at the curt statement. "I'm not scared of you," she insisted.

He broke their gaze and went back to staring at his tail. "Yes you do," he murmured. He tucked his knees a little further under his chin, and tried to keep his voice steady. "Dr. Wood told me."

He couldn't see her reaction, but her voice sounded hesitant when she responded. "Dr. Wood?"

"And you heard what they said at the Trunk Hotel," Nick added. He let out a long sigh. "Carrots, you're scared of me. And so is your family. And I…" He closed his eyes tight. "I need to leave. That's what you've come here to say, isn't it? That you want me to go away." His voice caught in his throat, and he struggled to finish. "And you never want to see me again." When she didn't respond, he buried his face into his knees. "I'm right, aren't I?"

A soft paw rested on his shoulder. "Nick, I'm not scared of—"

Nick whirled on her, so suddenly his tail hurt when it whipped behind him. He raised his claws and hovered them mere inches from her face. He drew his lips back and snarled, louder than he ever had in his life. He drew upon all of his pain and heartbreak and poured it into his attack, positive that it would drive the bunny back and make her run away in terror. The shock collar on his neck instantly flashed yellow and let out a beep, but it was drowned out by the primal sound that emerged from his lips.

It put his performance in the museum to shame, and he was sure that it would scare her away—that she would turn tail and flee from him and never be able to remember him as anything but a savage fox.

But she didn't move. She didn't even flinch. Judy kept her position, even as his claws and teeth grazed the fur on her face. Instead of terror, Nick could only see sadness in her face. Her beautiful purple eyes trained on his—a soft, tender look that proved to him, at least for now, she was absolutely not scared of him. She held her stare for several seconds, never flinching, never breaking eye contact from the fox.

It was too much for him. As much as he wanted to drive her away right now, he could see that wasn't going to happen. Slowly, he lowered his claws and closed his mouth. The shock collar recycled back to its green glow, and as he slumped his shoulders, he lowered his head in embarrassment.

Judy immediately touched his chin with her paw, and raised his head back up so he could look at her. He could barely bring himself to do so, so great was his shame. Judy, however, was patient, and looked on him with a kindness in her eyes that he wasn't sure he had ever seen from her before.

He was confused. After all, after what he had just said and done to her, what had he done to deserve her kindness?

She continued guiding his chin with her left paw, so that his stare was fixed straight on her, while she raised her other paw to her jaw. "When I was a kid, I got in a tussle with Gideon Grey." She rubbed the wet fur on her cheek. "And he did this to me."

Nick blinked in surprise when the fur on her cheek parted, revealing a trio of scars running parallel to each other. It was in almost exactly the same place as the scars on his cheek, which Judy had inflicted on him at the Gazelle concert.

Judy kept her paw in place, but sheepishly broke her eye contact. "It was my punishment for thinking I could ever be more than a dumb bunny." She lowered her paw, allowing her fur to cover up the scars again, and reconnected with Nick's eyes. "I've spent every day since then trying to make the world a better place, and…" She gulped, before finally finishing in a soft voice, "And I keep screwing up."

She lowered her paw from Nick's head, but he finally found the strength to continue holding it up himself. He stared at her, a wave of emotions flooding his mind. This revelation that she had scars identical to his should have made him even more infuriated; how could she do that to him after going through that herself? And if it was pity she was looking for, he was not in the mood to give her any, nor would he likely ever be in such a mood ever again.

However…

He couldn't help but feel sorry for her. He knew Judy, and knew that she really did mean to do good in the world. And she was right, she did keep screwing up. It was like she said in the speech she had given during his graduation ceremony. "Real life is messy. We all have limitations. We all make mistakes."

Nick slowly realized, even though she had hurt him quite a bit, Judy was also hurting a lot as well. She blamed herself for Zootopia's descent into chaos, and she definitely felt guilty for all the pain she had caused him. He could see the agony in her eyes, and perhaps for the first time since this all began, he realized that she really did understand just how much suffering had been her responsibility.

Of course, however, that did little to ease his own suffering. He pursed his lips and let out a sigh. "Yes, you do," he finally said.

Judy nodded. "And there's a lot that needs to be fixed. Most of it, I can't do by myself. Some of it probably can't be fixed ever…" She took a deep breath. "But…"

She moved her paws down to her waist. Nick followed her movement with his eyes, and he couldn't believe it when she retrieved a small key from one of the pockets on her short jeans. She brought the key up to his neck, and within just a second or two, clicked it into his shock collar.

"But this is one thing I can do," she finished. "Something I should have done long ago."

Nick couldn't see her fingers as she worked, but he heard the collar make a low, drawn-out beeping noise. At the same time, the green light faded before turning off entirely. Then, a second later, Judy unclipped the collar and pulled it away from his neck. She held it gingerly in her paws, trying not to accidentally turn it back on again, before she set it harmlessly to the side. All the while, she never broke eye contact with Nick, and when it was all over, she tenderly smiled at him.

For the first time in a long time, the fox felt fresh air against the circle of fur against his neck. The rain pattered against his skin and gave him the sensation of a heavy burden being washed away. Almost afraid to believe this was real, and not some kind of horrible dream, he slowly reached up to his neck with a paw and felt around.

His neck welcomed the touch. He rubbed his paw all around, using his paw pads to massage the skin and fur in all areas of his neck. He was a little tender, and he could feel a tiny bit of scar tissue beginning to form where he had been zapped by the collar so many times, but the feeling of liberation overpowered all of that.

He closed his eyes and raised his head to the heavens. He felt a small smile form on his lips. He took a deep breath and held the air in his lungs, forcing his heart rate to rise quickly. At the same time, he allowed his mind to flood with a sea of thoughts. The joy he felt when he was accepted into the ZPD. The anger against those responsible for the savage predator attacks. The fright from being chased into the river, and nearly drowning. His feelings for Judy…

The bond that he had shared with her. The duty he had placed upon himself to protect her. The love he had felt for her…

He released his breath, allowing it to slowly escape from his lungs. He felt his heart pounding in his skull, but for the first time in a long time, there was no shock to his neck that came with it. There was no pain in his heart. There was only relief—sweet, sweet relief.

It's over. It's all over…

He must have been quiet for longer than he realized, because when he opened his eyes again, Judy's expression had shifted to worry. "Nick, I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "I am so, so sorry for all of this. You didn't deserve it. You don't deserve me." She lowered her eyes again. "And if you want to go away now, and never want to see me again, then I—"

Nick threw his arms around Judy, silencing her. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to stop the tears from flowing freely. He gripped his bunny with all of his strength, intending to never let her go again.

The emotions swelled inside him with a ferocity he had not felt since before he had put the collar on. With nothing to hold him back, all of his feelings overtook his mind and body faster than he could control them. All of his happiness and joy, his fear and terror, and his passion and love—all of it, and more, overtook him.

After just a few seconds, he was unable to keep himself upright with his own strength, and he sank onto Judy's body. He clutched her with what little strength he had left, silently praying that she would not leave him ever again. The tears flowed freely from his eyes now, and the sound of his voice emerged from his throat against his will. He bawled, and wept, and cried harder than he ever had in his life.

"Thank you," he whispered. He sniffled and buried his face into the fur on her neck, not caring that it soaked the two of them even further. "Thank you so much, Judy."

Judy was clearly caught off guard by Nick's sudden hug, but after her surprise subsided, she returned it. She wrapped her arms around Nick as well, as far as she could, and pulled him tight. She didn't say anything in return, but she didn't need to.

As the rain continued, the two mammals kept holding each other. Nick cried for some time, but neither of them cared. The rain kept pouring down on the both of them, washing away Nick's tears and drawing him closer to Judy.

After a while, the strength in his arms finally went out, and he collapsed onto her lap. He hurriedly tried to sit back up again, embarrassed with himself, but before he could, Judy rested her paws on his head. The next thing he knew, she was gently rubbing her fingers through his fur. She started with his forehead, then traced along the outside edge of his ear, before finally brushing the wet clumps of fur on his cheek. Then she raised her paw back up to his forehead and started the cycle again. Within minutes, Nick's eyes were closed and he struggled not to fall asleep.

In the back of his mind, he knew that things were far from over. Even though Judy had removed his shock collar, she had a long way to go before she fully regained his trust. And more than that, there was still the unsolved case at hand, with millions of predators in Zootopia counting on them to solve this case—a case that had grown exponentially more difficult with what they had learned at the Trunk Hotel.

Judy's touch to his cheek put all those thoughts to rest. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to enjoy this moment. He tried to take a mental picture so he could remember this forever. The light rain soaking him, the soft fur of Judy's lap underneath his head, her gentle touch putting his mind at ease, and…

For the first time, he realized she was humming. She was humming a merry tune to him, trying to lull him to sleep.

For a moment, he wondered if they should wander back inside, out of the rain, but he was so content with where they were, he didn't want to. And he figured, if Judy wanted to go inside, she could leave at any time. But she was here, with him, and from the way she was acting, she had no intention of leaving.

Nick began to doze. Even with the rain pelting against him, he was finally at perfect peace. The savage predator case could wait. The entirety of Zootopia could wait. None of that mattered. Nothing else mattered now.

Nick was free.