Four days had passed since the day of the press conference. Four days since Officer Nicholas Wilde was injured in the line of duty protecting his partner, Judith Hopps. The suspect had been an seventeen-year-old male, star runner and captain of the track team at Central High. In the woods of Central Park, in the late evening, he had gone savage and committed assault. Then, like all the others, he had vanished without a trace. And now, Cameron was counted among the missing, adding yet another tally to the missing animals case.

But none of that mattered to the public. All that mattered was that Judy Hopps, super bunny, hero cop of the ZPD, had been very nearly mauled by a predator. A fox no less. If there was truly a recipe for absolute disaster, this had to be it. Between the paparazzi trying to hassle her for questions — considering she had said she trusted her vulpine partner 'unequivocally with her life' less than five hours before the attack — and her partner and best friend hospitalized, Judy had finally caved and decided to do something she had never done once before in her career: take PTO.

That was how she found herself in Nick's apartment, returning from his bathroom with an arm full of supplies. Her partner sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television screen as a snow leopard news anchor prattled on about the latest story. He only vaguely noticed when Judy appeared beside him, hopping onto the cushion, and placing the supplies on the coffee table. A quiet sound of tape peeling against paper drew his eyes downward.

Her eyes were pointed, focused while she carefully removed his wraps. It made her wince every time she saw it, the heavily stitched patchwork that now served as her partner's left arm. Miraculously, there hadn't been any serious nerve damage or severing of tendons. A good bit of the muscle was torn though, meaning he wasn't going to be doing anything significant for another week or two minimum. But that didn't matter. Judy didn't mind picking up the slack or handling the paperwork. She was just happy he was alive.

Her fingers moved as tenderly as possible, gently dabbing around each stitch with the warm cloth. Every grimace and hiss of pain was a stake through the heart. This was her fault. He was injured assisting her. He had taken jaws and fangs meant for her. Carefully cleaning the shaved skin, she tore another complaint from her partner, this one in the form of a grunt when the cloth pressed a little too hard on the wrist. "Sorry, Nick…" she muttered. With the disinfecting complete, she set to work carefully rewrapping the wound with fresh bandages. At least it was over for now, though she would have to do it again before he went to bed.

"Stop."

"Huh?" Looking up, Judy blinked at him with big purple eyes. "What's wrong? Did I hurt —"

"Whatever you're worrying about in that head of yours, stop it."

"I'm worrying about you, you idiot…" she muttered.

"No, you're not."

"Nick —"

"Carrots, I know you. And right now, you're beating yourself up, blaming yourself for what happened. 'This is my fault', 'Nick got hurt because he was protecting me', 'It should have been me in that hospital, not him'." He couldn't help the smile that rose to the corner of his muzzle at her look of sheer disbelief. "This wasn't your fault, so stop it."

"Yes, it was," Judy argued. "You got attacked because you were helping me."

"That's my job, Carrots," Nick said with an audible eyeroll. "You're my partner and my friend. I wasn't about to just let him rip you apart."

"But it shouldn't have happened in the first place! I was incompetent…"

"You weren't incompetent —"

"I should have been the one taking those jaws, not you."

"And if you had, you'd be dead." He lifted his paw, halting her before her mouth could move again. "Listen, I know you tend to forget this since you spend almost every day running down baddies more than twice your size, but you are a rabbit."

"Nick —"

"And that kid, Cameron, was a fox. One bite to the neck, and that would've been it. This isn't like our little roleplay in the museum, Fluff. It's lights out."

True as they were, each word drove the self-inflicted knife further; reminded him of what he always knew but tried his best to ignore. The fact that every claw on his paws was capable of rending, ripping, and tearing her to shreds. That his teeth and jaws were designed to crush bone and snap her body like a celery stick. The fact that — while she was more than capable of kicking his own ass, as she had proven several times in the training ring — under the proper circumstances, he could easily overpower her. He could hurt her. Even that day when they took down Bellwether; had he been even slightly too careless, he could have killed her.

"…I know that. And… I appreciate what you did for me. I really do. But Nick, I'm a police officer. I wouldn't be worth my salt if I didn't go out there every day knowing death was a possibility. That's why I wear my badge in the first place, to protect the citizens of Zootopia. To take the fall… so that they don't have to."

"That's very noble of you, Carrots. But I wouldn't be worth my salt as your partner if I let you get mauled by another fox." The skin beneath his fur darkened to the shade of the hairs themselves. Playing his own words back to himself, his words could have been easily taken the wrong way. If I let you get mauled by another fox. As though somehow implying that he, exclusively, had the right to do so. Not literally, of course… in much more provocative way. One that frequently plagued his dreams. And nighttime thoughts. And occasionally the ones during the day. It wouldn't be the first time he had imagined what rabbit tasted like —

No. Bad fox. Bad.

Nick shook his head, forcing himself to get back on track. These were not fantasies that he should be entertaining. Not about her. Not after what had just happened. What could have happened had he been a moment too late. Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. "Speaking of… how did that kid even get the jump on you anyway? With those sonar ears of yours, I didn't think anything could get passed you."

"Har har," she muttered, giving him a dramatic eyeroll. "But honestly…? I couldn't see him. It was getting dark out there, and I hadn't gotten a good look at him when he fled. I didn't realize his fur was black until it was too late."

Of course. It hadn't occurred to him. Cameron had been as clear as anything to him; he could see him just fine. Because he was a fox. His eyes had evolved to see in the darkness, unlike hers. Yet another evolutionary trait to remind him how much of a threat he was to her. "Right." For his own sake, he turned his attention to the television set, hoping to find a distraction from his depressing thoughts.

…If only.

"The problem with Johnson is his blatant disregard for the predatory vote," said a ring-tailed lemur. Nick recognized him from a previous appearance on ZNN. As a political correspondent, he often gave his opinion on different news stations, especially during election years. He was an excitable fellow and frankly, regardless of his feelings toward the animal itself, he had to respect his outlook. The mammal really did do his best to remain impartial. "His open support of Regulation 647 is directly to blame."

A warthog sitting across from him snorted in a huff. "I agree. He can't honestly expect to see rising poll numbers running on such an unpopular platform."

"Is it though?" chimed in a giraffe, by far the outlier of the group. She sat so tall; the operators had to switch to a ceiling camera to get a view of her face. "With what has been happening across Zootopia, I believe we may soon see a shift in public opinion."

"I sincerely doubt that," the warthog disagreed.

"Why? With the growing attacks on prey animals over the last few months, it isn't an unfair assumption."

"We have no confirmation those attacks are being carried out by predators," a female sheep reminded.

"Nonsense," the giraffe argued. "It was confirmed just the other day that poor gazelle was mauled by a predator. I read the autopsy report, you know. It was… gruesome."

"That's one incident," the sheep said. "The ZPD has stated there is no confirmation all of the attacks have been predatory."

"There's no confirmation that they weren't, either. We know for a fact the most recent attack was, and on our very own Judith Hopps, no less."

"Correct. However —"

The lemur shook his head. The arguing mammals slowed their back and forth. It was clear he had something to say. "On that note, I find it interesting that nobody has mentioned the elephant in the room, so to speak. We have spoken extensively about the attacks thus far, but no one has mentioned the predators going missing."

"I can't imagine they're missing," the giraffe scoffed. "More likely fleeing the scene of the crime."

"Every single one of them? I doubt that. There have been well over two dozen cases, it's highly improbable that every single one of them has had something to do with the assaults. If anything, I'm more concerned they may be victims themselves."

"Predators?" the giraffe asked incredulously. "What of that missing leopard from the rainforest? You truly suspect him a victim in this case?"

"It's certainly possible, yes. Not all of the missing predators are big cats, Smithson. What of the most recent one, that young fox, Cameron? Some of these predators are barely eighteen. These are children."

"Children more than capable of doing substantial damage, if the Night Howler incident has taught us anything," the warthog interjected. "A child he may be, but those knives on his paws operate just the same."

"We have long since concluded that the Bellwether scheme was targeting predatory animals," the lemur argued. "The savage mammal incident was through no fault of their own."

"This is true," the sheep nodded.

The giraffe disagreed. "Correct. But Bellwether is in prison and the Night Howler serum has long been taken off the streets. These culprits can no longer hide behind conspiracies for their innocence."

The lemur scowled. "I don't believe that —" His words cut off, Nick changing the channel with a glower of his own. He had heard enough of their bickering. He was already aggravated enough without adding the kangaroo court of public opinion into the mix. Beside him his partner sighed and flopped back against the couch.

"All this talk of elections and politics. It's exhausting."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Nick yawned and stretched out his paw. There was a moment of instant regret when the skin pulled against the stitches. He let out a sharp hiss along with a grimace, fur bristling with discomfort.

"Are you alright?"

"Yup, just a twinge. Nothing to worry about."

"A twinge? Nick, that kid nearly tore your arm off, I'd say that's plenty to worry about."

"Carrots, it's alright. It's just going to be sore for a while." One look at the rabbit told him she wasn't buying it, and he hadn't expected her to. Judy was little else if not stubborn. "It'll be fine. I'll take some pain killers and take a nap or something, alright?"

"Alright, fine. But don't think I'm not keeping my eye on you," she muttered. Gathering the supplies from the table, she rose to return them to the bathroom cupboard.

"Could you grab the Tylenol for me while you're in there?"

"Sure thing."

Nick sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. With his partner rummaging around in his cabinets, he could take a moment to seriously breathe for a moment. His arm hurt like a mother, but he would never tell Judy that. She was worried enough as it was. The fact that she had gone so far as to take off work for him was proof of that. His jaw had nearly fallen to the floor when she arrived on his doorstep, and he had been so startled by the news, he considered taking her to the hospital for a mental wellness visit.

But he couldn't deny that he was enjoying the company. There was something pleasant about having Judy hanging around his apartment. Watching their shows together, whipping up meals, tending to his wound even though he insisted it wasn't necessary. It was refreshing. Almost domestic. A tiny glimpse into a future he knew he'd never have. The thought of one day settling down with a vixen no longer appealed to him. And though he was loathe to admit it, he had long since determined why.

It was because of this. Because he was sitting there in his apartment, dreaming of things that could never happen. Dreaming that one day, Judy may see him as more than her colleague and partner. Dreaming that the day would never come that she would meet a nice buck and settle down. That she would invite him to the wedding. Let him hold one of her many, many, many kits. Dreaming that his heart wouldn't break, looking down at that tiny little creature in his big, clawed paws.

"Here you go, Nick!" Judy's voice tore him out of his mental prison. Reminded him that, at least for now, those days were far off. She was here with him now. That was all that mattered.

"Thanks, Fluff." He took the little capsules from her, popping them into his mouth. He washed them down with the glass of water she offered him before letting his head fall back against the seat. When on earth had she even gotten it, he had no idea. He must've been spaced out for a while. With exhaustion finally taking its toll, he felt his eyelids grow heavy. Time for a nap.

Or not.

The phones buzzed so loudly against the table, he nearly leapt out of his seat. His fur bristled, spiking out in every which direction, leaving him looking comically ruffled. Judy snickered, trying, and failing to hide it in the process, while she picked up her phone. It unlocked with a click to her desktop. Nick couldn't resist the urge to take peek. She had carrots as her background. Adorable. But that moment of amusement didn't last long. His focus was drawn to the hardened expression on her face. He couldn't see whatever the message had been that flitted across the top of the screen, only that it must have been serious. Always on the same wavelength, she turned to answer him before he could even ask.

"It's Bogo… he wants us to come in tomorrow. He says there's been a change to our case."