2 Days Later
The light of dawn faintly left its glow against the big window. Though it was dreary, and overcast this early morning, the sun had managed to peak beyond it all to grace the tightly crinkled eyes of the fox kit.
If it had been any other day, or any other place, or any other occasion, undoubtedly the shimmer would've been received with a tired moan and a turning of the head to escape its glow.
However, this morning was different.
Sunken green eyes reopened to look through the clear glass he was seated by. Nicholas Wilde was already awake, already dressed, and already out of their strange house. And even though he felt so terribly weary, drifting back off wasn't really possible this Saturday morning. The worry in his tummy had seen to that.
Visibly anxious pawpads rubbed hard at the scarring welts over his face, and pointed ears focused intently on their surroundings.
Nick closed his eyes again,
Anything… His voiceless muzzle worded, Please…
Black-tipped ears perked almost desperately, listening as best they could to hear something through the closed window.
In the city there would've been a mixture of noises. Car horns and motors, the hissing radiator in the hallway, the metro in the distance.
All sorts of familiar noises indicating that he was home.
Diminutive ears folded worriedly before trying again. His pawpads rubbed harder at an itchy, painful welt under his muzzle.
His ears subdued themselves to his skull once more. There wasn't anything that looked or sounded like home here. Nothing familiar to focus on, nothing soothing to listen to, only the emptiness of the landscape and its eerie stillness.
The anxiousness was too much, and just behind his chin, where rough straps had once dug into his skin, inattentive claws flexed hard in a bout of nervousness.
It was an accident of course, but that didn't stop the gout of blood that resulted, or the frustrated, frightened wince as he looked at the wetness staining his paws.
I- I didn't mean to!…
His paw was quick to pressure the opened welt. Unfortunately, he hadn't been quick enough.
With his heart in his throat, Nick sniffed at a damp red splotch on the vest his mother slipped him into this morning, and worry curdled in his stomach.
The lingering scent of lilac on his clothing told him who would be hurt the most by this.
I- I tried t-to be good, momma… I'm sorry.
She was always good to him, and he knew how hard she worked to afford these clothes. And now he opened a scar and stained them.
All I ever do is make her sad…
A sharp canine bit down forcefully on his lip as he thought hard on how he could make this better. The conciliatory part of his heart was the first to speak and tried to quell the brewing tempest in the fox kit.
It's o-okay… Mo-momma said it was okay last time i-it happened, remember?
That was true. This hadn't been the first time he opened a cut on his face since the incident… they hurt, and even in his sleep he sometimes scratched them. But…
But last t-time- I wasn't w-wearing my good clothes…
And…
Last time we weren't meeting s-someone important.
And…
L-last time- Nick looked side to side nervously- no one else saw me…
And- And- And-
One after another, the onslaught of swirling, dark frets ate at him.
The confidence the happy-go-lucky fox kit used to exude had deteriorated entirely. He was scared of what others would think of him for being a fox. He was scared about how others looked at him now. And perhaps worst of all, he was scared that maybe even his own mother would eventually see what others see too.
It came to a head when that voice, the one that had been growing louder and louder each day since his mother found him behind troop 914, spoke up.
You can't let them see you.
For a flittering second, hollowed greens focused on the little glimmer of sun through the window as it was swallowed up in the overcast gray. With the sun covered, his reflection stared at him in the window. His scars, and blood, and snot, and teary sunken eyes were on display, and he wondered…
How could she still love me?... How could anyone care about me…
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Nick shook his head trying to clear away the bitter thoughts in his head. He wanted to cry, but he knew it would only make things worse. He decided that he just didn't want her to see him like this.
So instead, the fox kit busied himself with licking his paws clean, using his saliva to wash the drying blood from his fingers and then his neck. After, he tasked himself with the red splotch on his green vest, biting and licking at it to fade the stain as much as he was able.
When finished, watery eyes scanned the room taking stock of the situation.
The small nook and the many chairs in it were still empty.
His eyes still hurt when he looked too long at the white lights.
The channel to the small corner television was turned to the boring morning news and the remote wasn't anywhere in sight.
The only thing of interest to the fox had been the toy box in the center of the room adjacent to a coffee table with magazines and tissue paper resting on it. He was unsure if he was allowed to play in it though, and hadn't been brave enough to check.
Nick took a deep, steady breath as he composed himself. He could feel the dampness from his spit and snot. His eyes focused on the tissues laying center on the coffee table.
Slowly, the little fox decided that it would be best to clean up a little more, so he could at least not feel so icky. Wobbly on his feet, the fox padded to the tissues, drying tears and cleaning his nose and patting at the damp spot on his neck.
You just have to look like you're okay… He reminded himself.
He knew he couldn't hide much of what he felt. Nick wasn't any good at it. But he could at least try to distract himself, even if it only worked for a little while, he could at least stave off the negative feelings.
His eyes settled on the only significant source of color in the room next to him. Slowly, he made the decision to open the container full of orange, brown and green toys.
His paws moved on their own as they dug through the toy box. It didn't take long for him to realize that there wasn't much here that appealed to him, and his frown deepened a bit. The abundance of veggie-shaped plushies and plastic farming implements weren't interesting for a fox kit in the least.
Absently, he hoped he could at least find the TV remote in here for cartoons.
However, when he reached the bottom of the box, the fox kit paused and stared hollowly at a familiar pattern of silvery white with black stripes.
Timid paws pulled the figure loose from the tangles of toys, and the little fox found himself staring at the Silver Ranger eye to eye.
Hind legs slowly gave way to stress, and the young kit soon found himself sitting on the carpet, unable to keep the strength in his legs.
Nick studied the stuffed rabbit with a sad expression on his muzzle. The friend of the Lunar Wolf Ranger was in his paws, and Nick didn't really know what to do now.
He had wrestled so hard with the idea that most rabbits wouldn't be any different than other prey… But… the question for him remained:
"W-would you really be friends with a predator?..."
His words were breathy and noiseless, but he hoped the question was still heard by the Silver Hare Ranger. He knew that TV was make-believe, but he couldn't help but feel that if the ranger was real…. Maybe, just maybe…
Would you be friends with a fox too?
Briefly, Nick lowered his guard as he wondered what the answer to that question would be. A claw gingerly brushed a long ear of the stuffed animal.
But, he wouldn't have time to dwell on what the ranger would do. Reality always had a way to catch up to him.
"Do you like the Power Rangers?"
The soft, feminine voice from behind him frightened him much more than it should have. His head turned sharply to the wavy purple clothing in his peripherals as his paws pulled the stuffed animal to his chest.
For a second, he let out a breath. His mother's favorite dress filled his vision as he gazed up at her concerned smile. Lost in thought, he hadn't noticed that she had re-entered the waiting room.
However, truthfully, Nick knew that it hadn't been her voice.
Worried green eyes roved lower, hoping not to pinpoint anything where he had heard the question. It was a vain thought, and quickly he pressed the stuffed ranger tightly to his neck. He stared at the mammal who was close enough to have been looking over his shoulder at the toy he was holding.
The mammal was older, almost as old as his mother, he would think, but not much taller than him, save for her ears.
A shy anxiousness fell over the fox kit at the first mammal other than his mother to see him- really see him- since the incident.
A- a bunny… A real one.
Her long, solid gray ears dropped behind her shoulders, and she took a small step back at seeing his nervous reaction to her. Even so, she wore a big, encouraging smile.
Her voice broke the air again, "My little niece and I watch the show together! She adores Jack Silver. She never misses his episodes…"
Nick met her words with dazed eyes. Whether it was because of her impromptu way of speaking, or simply because she was the first rabbit he ever actually saw, he couldn't say.
The bunny took the opportunity to sit on the carpet in front of him, though with some care to leave a noticeable (and for Nick, a very appreciated) space between them. For a glimpse, Nick thought he saw the rabbit's big, perpetual smile dwindle entirely. However, when her attention turned back to him it had recovered its full brightness.
"I take it you like the show too?"
Nick barely registered the mammal's question, though it had a way of making him hold the rabbit plushie right under his jaw.
Partly, he did this to obscure some of his scarring from the mammal, and partly because the question was one he liked, and partly because the way she smiled made him feel strange and a little shy…
Reticently, and after the longest moment of staring and wondering why the rabbit wanted to talk to him, Nick gave a little nod in the positive to the bunny's question.
Her cheerful smile grew at his nod, and for some reason he couldn't help but study the suddenly interesting carpet beneath him.
"Nicky…" his mom took the moment to interject, her concerned smile had shifted to something a little more relaxed at watching their interaction, "This is Dr. Hopps, she's going to be someone you and I see a little bit every week."
It clicked then that this was the important mammal Nick would be meeting today.
His ears folded back entirely. He really hadn't wanted to see any doctor. The last doctors, the ones at the emergency clinic, weren't nice to him or his mom at all.
"Ruth."
The word pulled him out of his moment of apprehension. He stared at the real bunny puzzledly.
She clarified, keeping her persistent smile in place, "I'm not the type of doctor that fixes the body, so just think of me as Mrs. Ruth, not Dr. Hopps. Would it be alright if I called you Nicholas?"
And suddenly, the carpet was interesting again.
The little fox nodded his head gingerly as he fidgeted with the stuffed ranger. The toy had made its way into his lap, and his claw couldn't help but twirl with one of its ears again. It felt a little easier to not think about seeing a doctor.
"Nicholas it is then!" Mrs. Ruth said cheerily.
It was strange how events went after that. He wasn't sure if it had gone quickly or slowly or at all because it was such a blur.
His mom took him by the paw after a few more questions from the doctor, and at some point they moved into a private office. The rabbit talked about a number of things to him. Some that made him smile, some things he didn't understand, and some things that made his eyes watery. Mrs. Ruth had given him tissues then, he didn't understand why he had teared up when she said he must've gotten his handsomeness from his father. He didn't even think he was sad.
Thankfully, no words were ever said about the small red splotch on his vest or the many marks on his face.
The session eventually ended. For a time after, the way adults always do, the doctor and his mother stood there talking for what must've been hours and hours.
Nick didn't hear a word of the boring things they were talking about now. But he was occupied with what his eyes were seeing and what his heart and brain were now fiercely fighting over.
On one paw, his eyes watched how his mom smiled and talked to Mrs. Ruth, and his heart liked the nice way Mrs. Ruth spoke to him. Her voice was soft, and she also didn't say anything about his scar, or yell at him and his mom like the doctors in Zootopia had.
On the other paw, his brain still couldn't shake the bad feeling. The scary, worried feeling made him peek at the door, waiting for lights to shut off and mammals to rush in and hold him down and hurt him. It didn't make sense… but it didn't make sense at Troop 914, either.
Eventually, maybe by the slight tugging on his mother's dress or his prayers carried by angels, it was clear that the two adults were exchanging goodbyes and they would soon leave.
Shyly, he moved behind his mother's dress when Mrs. Ruth kneeled to his level.
"Nicholas," She waited to speak until his eyes met hers, and then she gave her warm smile, "It was so good meeting you today! I can't wait to see you again."
His paws gripped the stuffed rabbit ranger at her words. He didn't notice that his tail wagged, even if only once.
He nodded his head bashfully, and with that, he and his mother walked down the hall and towards the front desk to check out.
Nick stopped halfway down the hall. The matronly vixen hadn't noticed his feet halting while she went to finish the closing paperwork, or the little wave he gave to the older rabbit that watched as they walked away, or the awkward red tinges on his ears.
He only fell a few steps behind, but scurried to follow his mom before stopping again as they passed the room he'd spent much of the morning waiting in.
His ears perked up at the television from the little nook.
Inside, so clearly the remote had been found, and his tail swished a bit at the familiar tune of the Power Ranger theme song. His eyes didn't linger on the screen long, however. They were drawn to the many plushies from the box now strewn out on the floor encircling the container they came from.
And in the middle, still digging and unaware of the onlooker, sat a gray bunny with black-tipped ears splayed in a way Nick could only describe as scared. She was only a little smaller than himself, and who was so clearly sobbing as she dug through the container.
His ears folded empathetically as they registered a soft, "Wh-where are you, Jack?"
And suddenly, his paws loosened their grip on the stuffed toy he had clung to all morning. His brain, still worried about what could hurt him, and Nick didn't like the idea of another kit seeing him at all. Especially not a prey and especially not with his scars. He would much prefer leaving the little doorway and rushing back to his mother,
Don't let them see you.
But it was his heart, the part of him that was brave and good and thankful that made him look at the Silver Hare in his paws,
A Ranger wouldn't let her cry…
Afterall, the silver rabbit was there for him, wasn't it?
And so, the matter was compromised.
His steps went unnoticed by design, and aided by the rabbit burying herself in the container. If he could sit the miniature ranger on the coffee table and leave without her seeing, he would be happy with that.
So, the little fox, as sly as he could be, sat the Silver Ranger next to the tissues on the coffee table facing the little rabbit kit. It would be something she couldn't miss when she looked up.
With his heart pounding, Nick slipped out of the room with nothing more than his black-tipped tail slapping a chair as he quickly cornered the exit.
There wouldn't be the usual swirling storm of worries for the fox as he left the clinic. Only the sounds of cars and singing birds on the other side of the door, and an inability to take his eyes off the sun as it peeked through the dark clouds. And, most vividly, a little image in his mind of the episode where the silver ranger met the Lunar Wolf and a little gray rabbit watching the same show.
His tail wagged lightly for the entire walk home.