At long last, we conclude our flashback sequence. Buckle your seatbelts, this is going to be a wild ride.
-imjustagurl: So nice of you to stop by! You already know what's in store for this update, so I'll just offer my thanks. Your suggestions make this a better story and me a better writer. I hope to continue working with you in the future!
-trebor1982: NickZelle has a lovely ring to it, I'd say. I also like your theory, that the song Gazelle presented to the tigers was an early version of Try Everything. I suppose we'll find out whether this was the case! Great to hear from you again.
-Cerberusx: That's right, Gacela (the Spanish translation for gazelle) is the popstar's actual name. Glad you liked 'Grungezelle' and her crazy attire, it was a fun diversion from the glitz and glam we know from the film. I think I responded to your NDA idea on AO3, but I'll say again that it's a very unique solution!
-A5TRON4UTA: Another incredibly detailed review! You've captured Cattleya's essence perfectly in your synopsis, and I'm beyond thrilled to hear you've taken a liking to her vibrant personality. I listened to the song you mentioned, and I'm honestly shocked by how well the lyrics encapsulate Gazelle's relationship with her sister! Now here I am wondering if I should've selected The Wind Beneath My Wings for the performance… Oh well. I'm also glad to hear my Spanish is mostly on point. If you notice any glaring errors, feel free to shoot me a PM. Your anticipation for the conclusion of this flashback, as well as your curiosity about the characters' futures has been very motivating. Thank you again for your feedback and support, and I hope to see you with the next installment.
-Guest: Yeah, I don't know if it's a glitch with or what, because I haven't been receiving notifications either. Technical issues notwithstanding, I'm happy you enjoyed the last chapter. Nickzelle is on the horizon once again :)
-Prismatic Floof: I'm convinced this site is held together with tape and craft glue sometimes. But it's great to hear the relationship between Cattleya and Gazelle is striking a chord with you, and I think you hit the nail on the head when describing their self-struggles. Thanks for the kind words!
-zaeva: I'll keep it in mind ;)
-Spirallira17: If we're going off of Gazelle's reaction in chapter 11, I'd say you're probably right. Of course, the devil is in the details, and such delicate events are rarely so straightforward. Thanks for the review!
*Special thanks to imjustagurl and iguana1500 for their assistance beta reading this story. You guys are amazing!*
As always, please enjoy this chapter and I'll see you on the next one! -Wilde
Chapter XIV
~Never Goodbye~
Rusted steps creaked under Gazelle and her entourage as they climbed into Zootopia's grunge scene. All around them, beckoning cries and oppressive spotlights assailed the senses. A potent soot fluttered from the ceiling like a starless rain. And though she couldn't show it, the artist's stomach had begun to cartwheel in a vortex of anticipation.
She was the first to emerge; the first to survey the ironclad jungle. Predators aggregated about the stage in an impossible number, raking their claws through the air as they chanted:
"Contraataca! Contraataca!"
But the show of support did little to ease her nerves. There was no coming back from what she intended to do.
Within a pillar of light at the stage precipice, a microphone extended from the floor. She found it and took the handle into her palms, her fingers working to bring it closer to her lips while Layne, Rajah, Khan, and Tony prepared their instruments behind.
From what she could tell, all of Svalbard had crammed itself into the subterranean space. Those mammals who could climb dangled from the rafters high above them. Meltwater fell from crevices in rivulets, pelting the jacket she wore with sharp pops. Gazelle kept scanning the crowd for her sister all the while, searching for horns amid claws and fangs; like hay in a figurative needlestack.
"On you, prey-girl."
Through the precipitation, Gazelle could see Layne grinning. With a switch of his index finger the amp went live, filling the air with a steady, electronic whirr. Her gaze immediately fell to the jagged red guitar in her embrace.
She tested her hand against the fretboard and felt the chill of nickel-plated steel pressing through her touch. She moved to the volume knob and cycled it. First once, then twice, and then as far as it would go. The air crackled. Vibrations rippled into concrete and bone. The audience tossed about like a boiling sea. And Gazelle, bringing all of her strength to bear, strummed her hand home.
What followed was a second inversion triad that shook the very foundations of the earth. The crowd went ballistic. Their cheers in competition with the instrument very nearly snuffed the breath in her lungs.
When the ringing in her ears stopped, she realized she was panting. Her mind whirled and her body trembled. How was it that everything and nothing made sense all the same? Here she stood before the masses, exposed. A sopping, immigrant, prey girl. And she had never felt more alive.
Tearing the microphone from its stand, she marched to the edge of the stage, a death-or-glory grin on her muzzle as she cried out, "Good evening, Zootopia!"
The entirety of the hall, hypnotized, soared to meet the young enchantress where she stood.
"Vamos! Lash your tails and gnash your fangs! Y oír a esta loba cantar lo que cree!"
On the drums, Rajah was launching into a deadly groove. With every percussion, meltwater flung high into the air all around him. Gazelle, sensitive to the potent rhythm beating through her, could feel her hips beginning to sway.
Her moves were nothing revolutionary, a robotic response from years of dancing bachata, merengue, and vallenato. All stressed the importance of maintaining precision and an unwavering count in every step. To follow the music, exactly. Never the other way around. And who could blame her? It was everything she'd ever known. Her life was a song spent marching to the beat of someone else's drum.
"Cinco, seis, siete, ocho..."
No longer. Never again would she keep to the shadows. Never again would she allow her dreams to pass through her fingers unrealized.
"Cinco, seis, siete, ocho…!"
She would seize the reins for herself. Because destiny doesn't play dice.
"Cinco, seis, siete—Ay carajo! Screw the persona!"
She turned across her shoulder and shouted, "Layne, amor! Take us in!"
A wicked grin surged across the feline's lips as he too leapt into the fray. His enormous torso doubled over, his arms thrashing through the deluge as he hammered out the chords Gazelle had taught him. They were punchy, more than sufficient to get the audience stamping and their heads rocking. Khan and Tony, with their bass and keyboard, followed his example not far behind.
"Sigue así! Bring that pace up! Yeah!"
Gazelle's whole body was now a swinging, frenetic blend of movement, wet hair, and moxie. Hundreds of virile whistles pierced the air as she wagged her hips. She heaved her chest up and down, eyeing both her convoy and the crowd as she snaked her palms along her every curve.
"Con las garras arriba! Show me what you're made of, come on!"
She challenged them to match her cadence, to forsake all constraints, musical or otherwise. And they did, letting out a thunderous roar. Even Layne was weaving from side to side, a sight that Gazelle had to snigger at in passing. Despite his weight, the tiger had a natural prance to him. Maybe someday he'd make a good backup dancer.
With a swagger in her step, she returned the mic to its stand and took her instrument back into her hands. She lifted her gaze, and right there, in the midst of complete chaos, she found Cattleya' sterling eyes staring back at her.
She sailed above the crowd, her body straddled high upon her jaguar's broad shoulders. Though Gazelle couldn't possibly hear the words, her sister was nonetheless cheering her fiery little heart out.
In what could've been ten feet or ten miles to separate them, Gazelle felt the stage fall away. Svalbard and its congregation ceased to exist. What remained was a single question, unspoken and shared between two siblings.
This question Cattleya answered with a gentle nod. One final assurance before the plunge.
Gazelle nodded back to her. The time for retreat had come and gone. Everything now hinged solely upon capable paws and the deepest intentions of her soul. She brought the microphone to her lips and declared once and for all,
"My name is Gacela. This song is for you."
The collective voice of a generation screamed out in reply. Testament to the birth of a superstar. Gazelle smiled past all of them. And with mascara bleeding down her cheeks, she took a breath and began to sing.
"~I am a question to the world. Not an answer to be heard, or a story that's theirs to relate. But what do you think I'd ever say? No one listens anyway, they don't know me, and I'll never be what they want me to be…~"
The first verse was surprisingly gentle, perhaps even distant. Rather than range or power, Gazelle focused on feeling her own music. Her metronome was her heart. Each note, her pain and desire. Every word came just as she sang it, as intuitively as her fingers played across every chord.
"~And what do you think they'd understand? Once a girl, an immigrant. She chose a lone road and wandered astray. But how could I trust what wasn't known? Now I stand here on my own. They don't know me, 'cause I'm not here…~"
Suddenly, and with the full breadth of her voice, Gazelle reared back and made known her longing for all to hear.
"~And I want a moment to be real! Wanna touch things I don't feel! Wanna hold on and feel I belong… And how can the world want me to change? They're the ones that stay the same! They don't know me, 'cause I'm not here…~"
Not one mammal would remain stationary after her chorus. They bounded up and down, their arms outstretched as if trying to claim the song for themselves. But for all their frenzied howls, Gazelle couldn't hear a single voice but her own. It was like being in a vacuum bereft of every distraction. Save one. The second pair of horns in the room.
"~But you've seen the things they never see. All you wanted I could be, now you know me and I'm not afraid. And I wanna show you who I am. Won't you let me take your hand? They can't break me as long as you know who I am!~"
With a surge of emotion, Gazelle cut loose. She paraded towards the crowd while chanting her refrain, making certain to sway her tail with every step.
"~And I want a moment to be real! Wanna touch things I don't feel! Wanna hold on and feel I belong… And how can the world want me to change? They're the ones that stay the same! They can't see me, but I'm still here…~"
As planned, the transition into the bridge was the guitarists' section alone. Layne, strumming in furious accordance with the singer, took a position directly beside her. They played in unison, each a mess of sweat, ragged fur, and obsidian rain. Giant smiles shared between them as Gazelle improvised:
"~They can't tell me who to be. 'Cause I'm not what they see. Yeah, the world was still sleepin' while I kept on dreaming for me. And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe!~"
This time when she gazed out at the sea of faces before her, Gazelle's body racked with the most forceful chill. She saw wolves and otters. Big cats and tiny shrews. Youthful souls from the Sahara to the Tundra. Predators from every walk of life surrounding her, spurned by a system far beyond their control. And yet here they stood, singing together under one song, guided by a prey girl. For they were all kindred spirits. Fellow dreamers who dared to defy the odds.
Her heart leapt. This was a Zootopia she could fight for. This was a Zootopia she could believe in.
Repressing that feeling before it could overwhelm her, Gazelle charged into her final chorus.
"~And I want this moment to be real! Wanna touch things I don't feel! Wanna hold on and know I belong… And how can they say I never change? They're the ones that stay the same! I'm the one now, 'cause I'm still here!~"
She declared it again and again so there could be no doubt.
"~I'm the one 'cause I'm still here! I'm still here, I'm still here, I'm still here!~"
As she carried on that final note, Gazelle was immediately thankful for the perpetual sleet and the way it concealed the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her heart and mind were rampant with so many emotions she couldn't bear but a single thought: to deny her calling now would be unthinkable. That to live complicit in a black and white reality was nothing short of sacrilege. She had seen the world in splendid technicolor. And the world, at last, saw her too.
"GA-ZELLE! GA-ZELLE! GA-ZELLE!"
Their mistaken chants snapped her back to reality. But before the doe could react to them, Layne's arm had swept over her, his sudden and immense strength forcing a high-pitched chirp from her lungs.
"Let's hear it again for darling Contraataca!" he shouted, "Svalbard's prey-madonna, the one and only, Gazelle!"
He thrusted his guitar through the air without exertion, flaunting it like a hunter would his trophy. A second salvo of cheers rolled over them, and in spite of the misnomer, Gazelle couldn't help but smile and lift her instrument alongside him.
"You're wild, girl. I can't believe that leap of faith actually landed!" Layne purred into the singer's ear. "The crowd's gunning for more. Whaddya say we give 'em what they want, eh?"
Gazelle smudged her eyes and steadied herself. It was true that she lusted to continue the performance. But the orchid clip in her pocket remained a potent reminder: that her obligation this night lay elsewhere.
She carefully unholstered her guitar, yielding, "Play a few without me, I need to check up on something important."
The tiger couldn't help but guffaw. When he realized after some seconds there was no punchline to her words, his ears twitched to attention.
"Wait, for real?" he balked, "C'mon, you can't take flight now! You've got this whole lot wrapped around your finger!"
It was a curious sight, watching the big cat fluster as though playing without her was suicidal. Had she really set the bar that high?
"It wasn't a request, amor," Gazelle relented, her tone apologetic but firm. "I know you can hold your own until I return."
Like a cub whose dreams had shattered, Layne huffed and averted his gaze. Her heart almost had to break for him, though their situation was a bit too amusing for that.
Instead, she took his paw between her hooves and led his face to hers. She could feel his fur bristling as she converged beneath his jaw, the way his breath caught in his throat when she whispered,
"Thanks for taking a chance on me. I won't forget it."
Everyone whistled when she kissed his cheek. It was a spur of the moment gesture; one the tiger didn't fully register until Gazelle was already galloping away. To her back the crowd roared, chanting her "name" as she traversed the gangway under the stage. This was followed by a noticeable voice crack, and then the unmistakable rumble of Layne's voice.
"I uh—S-Sorry for the hitch everyone, Gazelle will be back onstage in a few. Her loss! As it happens, I'm detecting a strong 'Scent of Teen Spirit' up in this bunker… What do you all think?"
A great hail of voices confirmed his suspicions.
"On my cue Raj!" he bellowed, "One, two, an' one, two, three, four!"
As Gazelle waded into the masses once more, she was shocked by the sheer volume of compliments, congratulatory pats, and disposable camera flashes clouding around her. This was an exhilarating new experience, one she was more than happy to share in… Even if most continued to butcher her name.
One eternity and several photographs later, she at last found the unattended crate where she'd left her companions. Perhaps expecting Andrés to ambush her with a hearty embrace, she perused the bar with a mirthful gaze, but found no sign of the jaguar or her sister.
Strange.
Gazelle continued searching for some time, but to no avail. She eventually leaned into the box with her elbows, guessing that the duo had gone to the restroom and that they would be back any minute.
She waited and waited, twiddling with the empty solo cups left scattered about the table. Only one untouched glass remained, its once frothy surface having long gone flat. She shrugged and scooped it into her grasp, venturing a disinterested taste before—
"PTHU!"
She spat it back into the cup.
Resisting the temptation to scrape out her tongue, Gazelle shuddered a full-bodied gag. The liquid tasted like cleaning product. Burned like it too. She was no pushover when it came to her tolerance of the stuff, but she was certainly no masochist. She discarded the cup into an iron grate near her feet, resolute that this would be the last time she ever let Andrés buy her drinks.
"You waitin' for the other one, luv?"
Gazelle jumped. How did these mammals keep sneaking up on her?
When she saw the polar bear whose warm smile offset the chill of her ice-blue eyes, the singer slackened.
"Second gazelle?" she continued, "Blonde hair, thinner'n a rail? I assume she's with you?"
Referring to Cattleya, no doubt. Gazelle quickly nodded her head.
"Sí—er, yes, she is. Did you see where she went?"
"Of course, glamour-girl!" the bear beamed. She rested one palm on her hip and gestured towards the entrance. "She and her fella beat a hasty retreat not a few minutes before you finished up. They shouldn't have gone far."
A subtle pang of concern shot through Gazelle's chest. Had they really left without her? And during the performance, no less? She couldn't halt her ears from pinning away, though her worries were, for the moment, tempered by the bear's enthusiasm.
"Those two… I appreciate the heads up, though. Thank you."
Gazelle offered a short but gracious smile, hastily gathering her backpack over her shoulder as she began to make for the entry corridor.
"Not a problem!" the bear waved, adding after her, "Do watch your step on those stairs, or you'll be dead, prairie-princess!"
A frigid breeze welcomed the singer as she passed through the mouth of the furnace. Snowflakes, larger than she'd ever seen before, drifted from the sky in fat, lazy clumps. And though the embers of her song still burned within her, the sting of moisture freezing in her fur nearly sent her scurrying for cover. Undeterred, she shielded her eyes with one hoof and hugged her torso with the other, desperate to find her companions amid the squall.
"Honey!"
Gazelle bleated when she spied the squat-bodied sentinel still at her post. She ducked through a gaggle of hyenas to reach her, ignoring their yips and protests as she took the badger's shoulders between her hooves.
"Dios lo bendiga, have you seen Catt and Andrés?" she questioned, almost shaking her. "Please, someone said they left the complex earlier."
Honey, aside from looking somewhat startled by her intensity, nodded slowly.
"Oh. Oh dear," the unusual flatness of her voice made the singer's stomach whirl. "Yeah. Both of 'em made tracks not too long ago. Slipped around the corner there, I think."
Gazelle knew a pitiful look when she saw one. She followed Honey's gaze to an alley not far away. Without a parting word, she released the badger and rushed into the gap as fast as her capable legs could carry her.
In the dim light she found them.
Cattleya wilted over a puddle at her feet, coughing and shaking. Andrés stood guard beside her, looking similarly dejected. He massaged the gazelle between her shoulder blades, comforting her all the while.
"There you go, cariño. I've gotcha," he cooed. "Deep breaths, in and out."
Helpless to conceal a panicked cry, Gazelle's hooves flailed across her muzzle. She darted to her sibling's side, her hooves pulling the hair out of her face when she exploded at the feline.
"Andrés, explain yourself! I leave for one number, and you let her get drunker than a skunk?!"
The accusation seemed to punch straight through him. He shook his head adamantly in the negative, his ears plummeting and voice wavering as he cried, "No, no! She only had the one, I swear, Gacela!"
She didn't care to give him a fair trial. It didn't even matter. The damage was already done, and it was easier for her to be livid over the situation than to be a frazzled wreck. She stooped a little lower, caressing Cattleya's ear between her fingers as the poor doe continued sputtering.
"I knew this was a mistake," Gazelle hissed, this time to herself. "We shouldn't have come here."
But Cattleya shook her head. She gulped audibly, her tone unsteady as she made certain to buck the claim.
"D-don't say that. Our only mistake was that we didn't bring me here sooner," her words were hardly cogent, choked out between coughs and an inward laugh.
"Solo respire y cálmate," Gazelle chided.
"Seriously, I'm—I'm okay..." the younger gazelle dismissed, swiping a sleeve clumsily across her mouth. "I think it's all over now."
As if to prove that her words weren't empty, Cattleya attempted to straighten herself. Instead, she collapsed so suddenly that it sent her sibling stumbling away. Gazelle fell into the embankment on the opposite wall, her horns striking the brick there with a resonant, 'CLACK!'
"AH!" she yelped, grasping the protrusions at the base of her skull. For other mammals, it was like striking a kneecap, except that this blow carried directly to the head.
Cattleya, on the other hand, just sniggered to herself, seemingly oblivious to the world and to her own writhing limbs.
At this point Gazelle had seen and heard enough. She could feel the pain buzzing behind her eyes like an angry cloud of hornets. And when she saw Andrés bowing down to help her, she snapped at him.
"No! Just get the sled! We're done here!"
The feline withdrew his arm. Despite his hurt he stayed his tongue, speaking only in a resigned murmur.
"I… I guess we are."
In that moment, Gazelle could feel her scowl turning to downcast eyes. Was shifting blame onto Andrés really a path she wanted to tread? But before she could retract her sudden rush to anger, he was gone. Ever the loyal companion, doing just as she asked of him.
Cattleya, meanwhile, continued sloshing her arms through the snow with all the grace of broken windshield wipers. She seemed noticeably absent, eventually asking in a chipper tone,
"Gacela, why are you so hard on the leopard? A more responsible protector there never was!"
Gazelle just looked at her sibling, dumbfounded.
"He's a jaguar, Catt… You're starting to worry me."
"Heh, typical Gacela," she tittered, "worrying all the time. I feel great. Light as a bird…"
Watching the doe flap her sleeves against the ground, almost as if she were trying to take flight then and there, was a sight the older gazelle couldn't help but clench her jaw at. This behavior was unlike anything she'd seen from her sister at home.
"Okay, that's enough of that—" she grunted, dragging Cattleya into her embrace and buckling her arms around her. "Let's just… Stay here for a little while."
Though Cattleya squirmed and nickered, her thoughts could hardly be contained. She jumped to the next topic without missing a beat, her silver eyes glowing as she exclaimed,
"Your song was so beautiful, by the way! The message, the melody... Every word felt real when you sang it."
Gazelle was caught off guard by the reminder of her performance, even though it had finished only a few dozen minutes prior. Her sister's compliment, slurred as it was, still brought a rosy tint to the singer's cheeks.
"You uh… You really thought so?"
"Claro," she confirmed. "I have a good ear and a level head between my horns, mamí. I guarantee that if you were to write more songs like this one, a lottt of mammals would listen."
Gazelle smiled at her sister's assuredness.
"You speak it like a true talent manager, ciela."
"Uuuuuu, now that's an idea… Who needs all these sham record labels when we could create our own. Call it… Vidal Music Entertainment."
It wasn't the most creative name in the world. But this strange idea of starting a business with her sister instantly had Gazelle feeling a bit sentimental. Was it inebriated rambling? Probably so. Cattleya didn't know much about music. But she could learn. Perhaps, the singer hoped, it could be an opportunity to keep them together one day.
"In that case, I'll be waiting eagerly for your offer," Gazelle conceded, nuzzling the younger gazelle against her ear. "The thing is, I don't know if I would try to make another song like this one."
"Why not?" Cattleya asked, her voice trailing as she settled further into her sister's embrace.
"Because it's special," Gazelle replied. "I was thinking of you."
To that revelation, the young gazelle simpered but offered no words. Gazelle could sense her body softening against her chest, enough that the singer felt comfortable to loosen her grip a little. She began to caress Cattleya's mane, that oft-tangled mess, in the same way she used to do when they were kids.
They said nothing for some time, listening, and savoring each breeze like gentle breaths from the earth. Between the warmth they shared, the night didn't feel so cold. It didn't feel so dark.
"Can you… Can you sing it again for me?"
There was a certain serenity in her request that made Gazelle pause. But not daring to deny her sister the song she'd inspired, the singer nodded.
"Of course I can, amor."
Taking a moment to compose herself, Gazelle started to hum. Her voice was almost imperceptible, just loud enough so that the two of them could hear it. Without the guidance of instruments her words came slowly, but with no less affect.
"~But you've seen the things they never see. All you wanted I could be, now you know me and I'm not afraid. And I wanna show you who I am. Won't you let me take your hand? They can't break me as long as you know who I am…~"
Gazelle continued to stroke her sister's hair as she traipsed through that verse again. It was a curious thing that such a quiet recital could carry so much weight in her heart. But unlike the performance, she felt no pressure to perform; no desire to impress. This song was, as professed, little more than a love letter to the roguish sibling nestled in her hold.
"~And I want a moment to be real. Wanna touch things I don't feel… Wanna hold on and feel I belong… And how can the world want me to change? They're the ones that stay the same. They can't see me, but I'm still here…~"
She progressed through every measure, humming the refrain even long after her lyrics had ended. It was only when she heard the rumble of Andrés' snowmobile approaching in the distance that she finally broke off the song.
"And there our chariot awaits us," Gazelle sighed.
She secretly fretted over having to apologize to the Jaguar for her outburst. But, then again, such concerns were fleeting as Cattleya had nodded off in her arms. With a careful nudge to rouse her, she spoke more firmly,
"Catt, wake up. It may be your song, but a lullaby is where I put my hoof—"
Her voice stopped when Cattleya's head rolled forward. Her mane fell into her eyes and her ears hung against her cheeks. She made no sound. No attempt to right herself.
Bewildered, Gazelle shook her a bit harder.
"…Cattleya?"
For a few moments she had to wonder if her sister was really asleep, or if it was a ruse. Surely, Cattleya would spring up laughing, and Gazelle would lace into her as was the natural order of things. But there was nothing. The doe just folded inward, slack-jawed and pale behind her tousled hair.
"Cattleya?!"
No, something was dreadfully wrong. The timbre in the singer's chest swelled as quickly as the whites of her eyes. Cattleya wasn't asleep. She wasn't moving at all.
Suddenly the fear was branching through her like icy tendrils. Gazelle couldn't control herself. She began to scream.
"Oh my God… Oh my God! No no no no!"
At that exact moment the Jaguar came skidding into the alley on his sled, his hackles raised at the chaos unfolding before him.
"What?! What is it?!" he shouted, lunging to his knees beside the hysterical singer.
"S-She's not breathing!" Gazelle sputtered, on the verge of hyperventilating. "Andrés, she's turning blue!"
"Hijueputa… Move! Move out of the way!"
His instruction was clear, yet her legs refused to budge. The feline didn't wait. He yanked the petrified singer behind him in a single motion, then pressed his ear against the motionless doe's chest.
"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Gazelle kept sobbing that phrase like a broken record.
"Hang on…" Andrés panted, "I think—I think she's still breathing… But barely. Shit."
"W-We need to get her to a hospital! I'm telling Honey to call an ambulance—"
"No!" the jaguar barked, shooting down the idea before the doe could complete it. "We'll be faster if we take the sled! Help me move her, now!"
-Tundratown Regional Hospital-
Gazelle cradled herself as she waited outside of the ICU. She sat in a beat-up chair, fidgeting with her orchid clip as she watched the clock tick mercilessly onward. She looked a disheveled mess, long spent of tears and energy to weep.
Updates on her sister's condition came slowly through the hours, if at all. When she would prod the front desk for information, she would receive the same, treadmill reply; that medical staff were doing all they could, and that patience was paramount.
Andrés, meanwhile, sagged in some-far off corner, struggling to run an old coffee percolator. Gazelle could hear it, rasping, bubbling, and shaking; noises that reminded her of where they'd come from, and the sounds Cattleya made when they pulled into the emergency room hours earlier.
The scenario kept playing through her brain like a terrible slideshow presentation:
"CODE BLUE PEDIATRIC!"
It was a term the doe had heard once in a telenovela. She didn't understand it, nor the slew of medical jargon that came running from every direction. Only when the nurses began to pound on Cattleya's breastbone did Gazelle fully realize what was happening, and by then, Andrés was physically restraining her. It did little to stop a guttural shriek from slipping out of her.
The responding physician, a reindeer with more creases to her features than years to her age, took one look at the duo and pointed to the exit.
"Out! Out!" she shouted.
Suddenly they were being whisked away by several helping paws, and a long curtain drawn to hide the commotion in their wake. Not a moment later did the next order pass, as briskly as the first.
"Prepare to defib, 120 joules please. Stand clear!"
A high-pitched chime, like that of a bomb whistling through the air, rose to a crescendo. Gazelle could hardly stand it. Her legs all but gave out as that horrible blare ceased.
"Shocking!"
'THUMP'
Gazelle looked up from her stupor to find Andrés seated next to her. He didn't speak, just offered one of the two coffees he had made.
"T-thanks," she sniffled and took the beverage to her mouth. A warm brew was a welcome distraction, even if the jaguar had burnt it something awful.
"Tastes that bad, huh?" he uttered softly.
Perhaps she could've made a better attempt at hiding her expression. Flashing the weakest grin, she replied, "It's not from Bearranquilla, but it'll do."
She could hear his heel bounding against the linoleum tile like a restless piston. In fact, his whole body was moving. All except his eyes, which stared past everything in a garish shade of red.
"I uh… I'm no barista, s-so—" he swallowed hard, unable to continue his thought.
She knew the feline was giving everything to hold himself together. Thinned between the adrenaline crash and their present circumstance, he just shook his head, seemingly desperate to keep those emotions bottled up.
"Andrés…"
She touched his knee, and in that moment the jaguar shattered. He plunged his face into his paws and began to cry.
"I'm so sorry…" he whimpered through gritted teeth, "Gacela, I'm so sorry!"
Moving their drinks aside, Gazelle leaned against his quaking figure. She hugged him as much as her delicate arms were able, her lips constricting as yet more tears threatened to fall.
"You have nothing to apologize for."
At her assertion, he jerked upright, exclaiming almost angrily, "Of course I do! My job was to keep Cattleya safe, and I fucked it all up!"
Staring through those stormy eyes, Gazelle saw a part of the jaguar she didn't recognize. He had been, for all the time they'd known each other, an open book; her happy-go-lucky companion. Even in the bleaker moments he was resourceful, drawing life from some unknown place to give fire to her engines. Here, he looked a ghost. That hopeful flame all but extinguished.
"Look at me," she said, taking his cheekbones so he couldn't escape. "You are not to blame for this, entiendes? You are not to blame."
The feline didn't seem convinced. Arresting his grief, he asked in a small voice, "How can you know that?"
"Because Cattleya is my sister," Gazelle sorrowed. "Her wellbeing is my responsibility alone, and… I was careless. All because I had something to prove…"
She sighed and released him, returning to the tactile comfort of her orchid clip.
"You're the older brother I never had, Andrés. After everything you've done to support Catt and me… You didn't deserve my outrage when I found you in the snow. I'm sorry."
Her words were laced with regret. Andrés, sensing that Gazelle might not hate him as he'd feared, wiped away his tears and nodded slowly.
"It's okay," he sniffed. "Know that I do the things I do because I believe in you, Gacela. God willing, when you've reached the top of the ladder one day, I'll be content that I had a role to play in all of it."
"No. You'll be right alongside me."
At around that time, the doors to the ICU swiveled open. There stood the reindeer physician from earlier, weary-eyed, but still composed. Gazelle didn't waste one instant. She shot out of her seat, bolting towards her with the only question on their minds:
"Is she going to be okay?"
The doctor spared a sympathetic glance at the doe. She turned away to clock the wall mounted sanitizer dispenser, appearing to choose her words before instructing gently,
"Walk with me, please."
All sense of time had been lost. Cattleya's room was a windowless box, austere and devoid of light if not for several screens flickering by her bedside.
60 beats per minute.
SpO2, 92 percent.
Blood pressure, 100/80.
Gazelle analyzed those digits like a cipher to be broken. A puzzle that, if solved, would surely bring everything back to normal.
But she could not—would not—accept this snare of tubes and wires to be her sister. It didn't matter what the doctors said. Their numbers, lines, and graphs could never hope to quantify Cattleya's fighting spirit.
In her periphery, Andrés lingered. He looked dazed but shed no tears. Just gnawed on his knuckles while processing the grim sight in his own way.
Gazelle was careful to avoid the cords embedded in her sister's wrists. She took one hoof into her grasp and felt it. It was cool to the touch and unresponsive to her affection. Still, she pressed it to her lips so that her words, if not heard, would doubtless be felt.
"It's me, Catt… I'm right here."
When the young gazelle made no reply, Gazelle bowed her head and closed her eyes, as if by channeling her thoughts, she might get through.
"I've thought a lot about what you told me tonight… The advice you've given me. You'll be happy to hear I've made my decision and… I've decided that I won't be leaving you."
Even at the mention of their promise, Cattleya did not stir.
"—Because you're coming with me," Gazelle continued. "You're my sister. My wings, remember? So you need to fight. You need to fight harder than you've ever fought for anything before, because I can't do this without you…"
She tried to smile; to be the source of strength she was always supposed to be. But deep down, Gazelle knew better than to lay odds with miracles. The doctors spoke of respiratory failure. They insisted it was a complication of post-polio syndrome. That if Cattleya survived the night, she would remain comatose for the rest of her life.
This was the sobering reality. Tears rolled down Gazelle's cheeks, her voice seizing as she begged,
"Please… Please don't leave me."
Only the ventilator dared to answer, an ever-whirring reminder of the finality of their circumstance. Gazelle doubled over and wept quietly into her sister's arm, Defeated.
Eventually the sound of approaching footsteps forced the singer to collect herself. When she turned around, she was aghast to find her mother and father filling the doorway. From the way they held each other, Gazelle knew the staff had told them everything.
Maria made her devastation known through sickening wails. She knelt at Cattleya's bedside while Inigo stood in shellshocked silence, torn, as if all the stages of grief were flashing through him in a single instant. Only when his eyes landed upon Gazelle, did the bull settle on one emotion. Rage.
Switching languages so that his beloved would not understand, Inigo turned to Andrés, his voice shifting to a low, dangerous growl. "Get out."
The jaguar cast a somber glance to the singer but knew to keep quiet. He gathered himself slowly, exiting the room as the bull slammed the door behind him.
"What. Happened." Inigo's voice cut through the sterile air like a knife.
Gazelle's breath hitched as she tried desperately to find her words. "I—I just wanted to give Cattleya a chance to experience the world, Pa. She's been locked up for close to ten years now, I thought it would be okay to—"
"You thought it would be okay?!" Inigo's eyes blazed with a fury she had never seen, his hooves clenched into fists at his sides. "Gacela, have you gone completely mad?!"
Tears welled up in Gazelle's eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. "No, Dios, no! You must understand, the solitude was destroying her even more than her illness! Please, Pa! I was just thinking of her!"
"Thinking of her?" The bull's nostrils flared, his voice rising. "You snuck your sister away from home knowing full well that the stress and cold could kill her!"
Gazelle shrunk back, the weight of his words crushing her.
"Do you think I wanted to keep Cattleya locked away?! Do you think I liked seeing her hurt day after day after day?! This—" he gestured wildly, his voice breaking, "—was the reason!"
The room, once filled with faint hope, now felt like a tomb. What could she ever say or do to make amends for this horrible nightmare?
"No, Gacela…" Inigo panted, on the verge of tears himself, "What you did… You did for yourself."
Gazelle's entire body felt like lead as that accusation sank in. She glanced at her mother, who was still weeping by Cattleya's bedside, then back at her father. The walls of the hospital were closing in, suffocating her with guilt and regret.
"You… You were supposed to be on our side, mija… More than anybody else," he whimpered, shaking his head.
"I am on your side, Pa…" her voice trembled with desperation. "Please, I can make this right…"
She reached out to touch him with her hoof. But her father, seemingly unable to bear the sight of Gazelle any longer, turned his shoulder to her.
"Not anymore. You've done enough."
The skies above Cima del Cielo had clouded over.
After everything he'd heard, Nick didn't know where to begin. His natural response to misfortune typically threaded between witty remarks and genuine advice. However, neither of the two would suffice for a tragedy so deeply personal.
Gazelle's eyes were veiled behind her natural, flaxen hair. She had calmed her ragged breathing, and tears no longer pooled at her elbows. She looked exhausted, as though she had expelled a great deal of life to unearth those memories.
"Catt never improved," she said slowly. "But against all odds, she kept on living. A final act of defiance, I think."
The corner of the singer's mouth twitched into a mournful smile. She stroked the orchid's petals with her fingertips as she continued,
"My parents sold everything and returned to Bearranquilla with her shortly after. There was no sense in staying. The treatments were useless at that point, and… I guess they had enough of Zootopia. How could I blame them?"
Nick could see the agony returning as her body sagged. He wanted to surge forward and hug her, to do something, anything, to ease her pain. But the fox restrained himself, knowing that at times, just listening was as great a comfort as any.
"They never asked me to go with them. And I never tried to join them," Gazelle confessed, barely above a whisper. "All I could do was try to honor the promise I made to my sister. I accepted AME's record deal, and the rest is history."
She placed the cattleya upon the countertop, turning to face the fox with a sigh.
"I know she doesn't look it, but Aneska Sinclair was there for me no one else was. She made certain I was safe, well fed, and that I had a warm bed to sleep in. Yes, she can be a disagreeable—downright reprehensible personality at times… But for her compassion, I will be forever grateful."
He had to wonder if the singer was exaggerating those claims. Calling the ibex compassionate was as absurd as calling an elephant tiny or a sloth swift. Then again, the look on her face showed that she was being serious, and so he chose not to question it.
"Did you ever hear from your family again?" Nick asked gently. "Surely, they would be aware of who you've become?"
Gazelle shook her head. "I used to send letters after them, Nicholas. Sometimes I would call. But after several years without reply, I've accepted that they want nothing to do with me."
Her lips constricted as her eyes found her family photograph where Nick had left it.
"All that remains of them now is what they've left behind. My mother's piano. My father's paintings. Their book collection…" she made a limp gesture with her hoof, as if to encompass the entirety of the home.
Perhaps fearing that she would dip further into sorrow, Nick bridged the gap between them with a single touch to the popstar's wrist. He could see her eyes, glistening and golden, were wrought with anguish and blame.
"Gazelle, I know I wasn't there," he began, putting on the bravest face he knew. "But hearing you talk about these things… I'm convinced that the only thing you're guilty of is giving your sister a chance to belong. A priceless gift, if even for a moment. And if your parents couldn't see that… Well… That's on them."
"I wish it were so simple, mi zorro," Gazelle whimpered, managing a faint smile. "Understand that I never stopped loving my family. Cattleya, my mother, and even my father; I carry them with me in everything I do. And deep in my heart, I have always hoped that we would one day find our way back to each other."
She reached out, her hoof trembling slightly as she placed it upon Nick's paw.
"Until then, I'm thankful to have you in my life, Nick. You know my story, now. Thank you for not thinking ill of me..."
"Never," Nick replied, squeezing her hoof. "I think the world of you, Gaz. Even more now."
His honest words seemed to soothe Gazelle enough for her smile to grow. She found his face with her other hand, caressing the fur on his cheek as she closed the distance between them.
*Bzzzrt*
*Bzzzrt*
Both of their ears flew up in tandem, their affection temporarily halted by an indistinct rattling from another room.
"Is that yours?" Gazelle asked, exchanging a puzzled look with the fox.
Nick took a few seconds to retrace his thoughts, eventually remembering that he'd left his cellphone in the library from the previous evening.
"Er—I think so," he rubbed his neck. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."
He pushed off his seat and trotted after the noise. He knew it had to be Judy calling—an idea which filled him with simultaneous joy and worry. There was so much he had to tell her. So much he had to explain after yesterday's misunderstanding.
But when he arrived at the reading desk, the fox was baffled to discover a number he didn't recognize. Pushing back his disappointment, the fox accepted the call and pressed it to his ear.
"Officer Wilde speaking."
An immediate, garbled flood of syllables nearly knocked him off his feet.
"Woah, woah, what?" Nick exclaimed, trying to understand words shouted against what sounded like rotor blades. Then the realization hit him. "Wait, Andrés is that you?"
"Sí, soy yo! Dios mío, por qué ustedes dos no han respondido a mis mensajes!?"
"Dude, wrong language! I can't understand a word you're saying!"
"Ay!" the jaguar whinged, switching dialects. "The TV! Turn it on, ahora!"
"The TV? Why, what's on the tele—"
"You're all over the news!"
A/N: Gazelle's performance is a modified version of "I'm Still Here" by John Rzeznik.
