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Chapter Seven - Unfortunate...
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WARNING: This chapter contains depictions of a suicide attempt.
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The closer Tanaka and Edward got, the more hectic everything became.
Mammals who actively steered away from the area took several looks back. You could tell who'd already pieced together what was happening. They were probably following the instructions of the officers who'd already arrived at the scene.
Those who didn't know the full scope of what was transpiring came across as inquisitively innocent as they stole looks at their car. Tanaka was thankful that Zootopia's infrastructure was molded upon the landscape of old. Its winding roads created a natural barrier between them and the action. However, some had given in to their intrusive thoughts and started in that direction.
Tanaka wanted to yell at them from the cruiser to avoid the scene entirely—a wasted effort. They didn't need their help—the mammal actively suffering did. She and Edward were barreling down the road, full flashers and sirens blaring. Tanaka's words would've been lost anyway.
The road eventually straightened out to reveal the scene unfolding a few blocks ahead. Blinding reds, blues, and whites from the flashers of other patrol cars strobed against the façades of buildings and reflected onto the windows. The trees that dotted the street cast a dark shadow with every subsequent flash. Bystanders who gawked were using them for cover instead of sticking to the flow of foot traffic. They were getting in the way.
Other officers who'd responded to the incident were managing what they could. She could spot Officers Delgato and Higgins stationed at the far end of the street on the sidewalk. Pennington and Rhinowitz's sheer size relegated them to directing oncoming vehicles away from the area on either end of the closed four-lane street.
Tanaka swore she could spot Nick Wilde a quarter of the way down, ushering other mammals away the best he could. Another fox, a fennec, was helping him. They were most assuredly a civilian. Considering the stakes, Tanaka was thankful to see anyone outside their department helping their cause.
All in all, four—now five, including them—cruisers, an undercover car, an ambulance, and a fire truck made up the response team. ZPD to the left lanes on either side, emergency services to the rightmost northbound lane.
Every mammal had their part to play. It was time for Tanaka and Edward to do theirs.
Edward silenced the blaring siren and obeyed the rhinoceros officer controlling the traffic flow. Once pulled into the quarantined area, the canid parked their cruiser in the left lane behind the undercover car. They should've been the last officers to arrive.
Tanaka removed her seatbelt and grabbed the door handle, momentarily stopping to catch the wolf to her left. Detective Snow was still frozen in place. He gave her the impression that he was still lost in his thoughts.
"Come on," she said, jolting her superior back to reality. "Let's go."
Tanaka swiftly exited their cruiser with little regard, hitting the ground with a catty grunt. While waiting for Edward, she peered further down between the lanes, endeavoring to acclimate to her surroundings.
The cheetah's unfocused gaze veered back and forth between anything that moved. It couldn't be helped. There was too much chaos surrounding Tanaka, so much that she teetered dangerously close to dissociation.
Clawtips picked at the hemmed cuffs of her long-sleeved shirt. Anxious flicks of her tail showcased just how unraveled she was.
Relax. Be patient, the voice in her head advised. She immediately relaxed a touch. Trouble will find you soon enough.
"Right," she agreed to no one in particular. Funnily enough, she found Snow's advice ringing in her ear.
One step at a time.
A shiver ran down the cheetah's spine.
Tanaka needed to bring herself up to speed.
She eyed the fire truck and the ambulance first. Both were parked a couple of car lengths ahead to the right.
A couple of firefighters were fetching equipment from the side of their vehicle, chatting low amongst themselves while the paramedics stood by. They were void of any emotion that would have stirred any external panic, but their postures didn't exude confidence.
Per her training, their units would have taken priority, which meant they would have stationed themselves closest to the incident.
To be honest, all Tanaka needed to do was look up.
Stood atop the edge of the building's parapet, clung to a weather-worn antenna, was a red deer. The fawn's pink button-up and tan shorts fluttered with the incoming breeze. Their sickle-shaped horns clattered against the metal, barely audible from where Tanaka was on the ground.
The prey mammal shivered and sobbed where they stood, their eyes fervently scanning the bodies scattering below them. They held on tighter to the pole, garnering a sharp reaction from the crowd. Tanaka couldn't dismiss that they looked young enough to be Kei's age—maybe younger.
Chills threatened to run down her spine once again. She found it challenging to keep the hairs on her neck from standing up this time. Making that connection felt inescapable.
Tanaka conjured a scenario similar to this far too often in her nightmares. She didn't want to relive that trauma again. She couldn't.
Focus on the present.
She had no idea what this family's situation was, and assuming anything beyond what she saw on the surface was dangerous. Done; end of story.
Thankfully, the officer leading the rescue effort stepped into view ahead of Tanaka, just past the fender of the next car. Their tall ears were a dead giveaway.
Of course, the Chief would send Detective Hopps. Why would she have thought any differently?
The lapine was preoccupied talking to a pair of distressed-looking deer that followed close behind—undoubtedly their guardians, if antler shape was something to go by. They both bombarded her with questions, desperate to know who would save their poor child.
Gray ears swiveled in Tanaka's direction before Judy could provide whatever reassurance the ZPD could allow. The rest of her body turned, cracking a warm smile when she saw the incoming cheetah. Her look screamed, "If anyone could do it, it's her."
That trust bolstered the spotted officer's confidence.
Tanaka owed Judy the world for saving her career, and she couldn't let the detective's kind gesture be in vain.
"Jackson," Hopps commanded the tiger officer stationed on the sidewalk, "please escort Mr. and Mrs. Prancer a safe distance away." Officer Jackson nodded and closed in. She pivoted back to the two cervidae, primed to object to Judy's command.
"You've given us everything we've needed," she insisted, tapping the clipboard in her paw. "The most you can do now is let us do our jobs."
"But that's our boy up there," sparked the buck's concern, "you can't just ask us to walk away!"
"I'm not asking, Mr. Prancer," she clarified.
"T-there has to be something more we can—"
"There isn't."
Tanaka couldn't mask her shocked expression, and neither could the deer.
After their first encounter, she felt inclined to expect something that erred on the lighter side. She didn't expect to witness that kind of resolve from a rabbit of all mammals. Her tone teetered on the edge of anger .
One thing was certain: Hopps had a heart of gold, but she wasn't some pushover. Maybe that's why Bogo admired her.
"Anything could set him off. There's a chance that the situation might escalate if either one of you gets too close, and we can't risk that."
Judy's abrasive tone began to soften immediately, followed by some semblance of hope to convince them otherwise.
"You've done enough already. We'll do everything we can to get your son back. But you need to trust us. This is the only way."
For the two parents, that was a tough pill to swallow. She could see the conflict in their eyes, and Tanaka sympathized with them. No mammal should ever feel pressured to gamble with their child's life. The gravity of helplessness the deer felt must have been immeasurable.
But, if there was anything Tanaka understood better than anyone, any parent—or family—would do anything for their progeny. She had her mom to thank for that.
Regardless of how unfair it was in the parent's eyes, the fact of the matter remained. There wasn't anything more that they could do. Whatever they'd supplied Judy with before Tanaka and Edward arrived would have to be enough.
"O-okay." The male buck choked, water pooling on his lids. His speechless wife latched onto her husband's arm, burying the side of her face into the sleeve of his dress shirt.
"Thank you," Judy said. "Officer Jackson won't take you far; just to the sidewalk."
Once the two prey mammals were whisked away, the rabbit detective huffed and turned to face the cat officer.
"Glad you could make it, Tanaka."
"Couldn't imagine being anywhere else, Judy," she nodded.
The lapine peered at the silver canid shadow trailing behind. "I appreciate your support here, too, Detective Snow."
"Anytime," he mumbled.
After pleasantries were sorted between the three, the feline went down to brass tax. "What are we dealing with?"
"Damien Ronaldo Prancer," Judy read from the clipboard. "Son of Catherine and Johnathan Prancer, aged fourteen. An autoimmune disease cost him his hearing when he was a baby. The family couldn't keep up with the financial obligations for treatments. They tried everything they could afford. In the end, there wasn't anything doctors could do. They nearly went bankrupt."
Tanaka frowned. She remembered what it was like when Kei was brought into the world.
For them, it was otosclerosis. Surgery wasn't an option given the cost and didn't make sense given the low success rate, so they elected to rally together and adapt. The support structure allowed her brother to live a life full of the respect and love he deserved.
Did the Prancer family adapt to their child's needs?
"Johnathan drove himself deep in his work and took overtime to cover the massive loss. Catherine took part-time jobs to make ends meet," Judy answered. "Meanwhile, Damien struggled to communicate for years. He learned basic sign language from his grandmother until he enrolled in public school." Hopps briefly shot a knowing look at the wolf detective before returning to the officer. "That's when the bullying started."
"What kind of bullying are we talking about here?" Tanaka glumly asked, scribbling the details that mattered into her notebook.
"Verbal, at first," the lapine winced. "The bullies frequented stealing and damaging his belongings, which always sparked retaliation. Then, the kids started getting physical. Damien sprained his ankle trying to fight back. Unfortunately, that retaliation ended up getting him expelled."
"Expelled?"
"Damien used his horns," she added, tapping a pen to the top of her head. "They were only stubs then, but they're still bone. Had they grown any more, we would've been looking at injuries far more severe than a bruised chest."
"What about his parents?"
"Johnathan and Catherine fought as hard as they could to keep him enrolled, but there was nothing either of them could do—the school had a no-tolerance policy on violence."
"Weren't there cameras?"
The rabbit shook her head. "Happened in the restroom. Damien couldn't prove he wasn't the one to start the fight." Judy peered back at her notes. "It took the family a month to find another school, but their relationship spiraled out of control by then."
"What happened?"
Judy sighed. "John sided with the school. He accused Damien of instigating the bullies. He vented his anger at his son's inability to communicate, blaming him for putting them in dire straits for years. John…"
The lapine winced, eating her words. Her foot thumped rapidly against the ground.
"John, what?" Tanaka begged the question. Honest mistake.
"John told Damien that he regretted ever learning a single sign."
Tanaka threatened to snap her creaking pen in two.
She seethed. An unbiased approach was nigh impossible; she should have known that. But she still had to try to be civil.
Gleaning an answer to a question she already knew, she bit the bullet and followed up with, "And Catherine?"
"She preferred to take the stance of, 'maybe your father has a point,' rather than hearing their son out."
"Unbelievable," the cheetah's head shook with a whisper.
"Damien didn't communicate with his parents much after that."
"Do we know what might've caused him to do… this?" Tanaka gestured to the young stag.
"When Damien was around twelve, his grandmother paid for a few self-defense lessons," Judy explained. "John, being John, was outraged that they went behind his back. He threatened to cut ties unless Damien was pulled from the course. Silver lining: Damien made a friend. They even learned some signs so that they could communicate better."
Judy paused, watching the officer write down detail after detail. Tanaka looked back up and held out hope for more good news. There had to be, right? Right?
"Please, tell me—"
"It gets better?" her sass finished. "Trust me, I really wish I could."
Detective Hopps sighed and aimed a sad look at the young buck above them.
"Damien started high school this year. He was ready to make the most of this school year—Catherine had never seen him so excited.
"When Damien arrived on his first day, he found out his new friend had unknowingly associated themself with his former bullies over the summer break, and—you can see where this is going."
"It happened again."
Hopps gave a silent nod. "One-sided and more ugly this time around. Once Johnathan and Catherine caught wind, they immediately confronted him. Damien stormed out, and that's when we got the call."
Tanaka cursed at the wind.
Damien's friend couldn't have known the history between him and the bullies, could he? What twisted story could the posse have spun? Regardless, Damien was isolated.
With his parents in one corner and the bullies in the other, who could have blamed the young buck for turning to his last resort?
Tanaka reviewed her notes twice over, refraining from speaking her personal comments aloud. "Anything else we should know about?"
"Nothing relevant," she replied, tucking the clipboard under her arm.
"Then we shouldn't waste any more time."
Officer Sato stuffed the notebook and pen back into her shirt pocket and gave the detective a courteous nod.
"Thank you, Judy."
Tanaka turned away and strode towards the apartment building. Edward trailed a few steps behind. They didn't get far.
"Tanaka."
The spotted officer came to a screeching halt. Detective Snow muttered a curse, narrowly avoiding crashing into her with a quick sidestep.
When Tanaka turned back around, the expectation of facing the same stoic rabbit was planted firmly in her head. She wasn't sure why. In reality, the rabbit looked troubled, borderline apprehensive as she stared into oblivion. Tanaka felt compelled to ask what distressed her.
Before anyone could question it, Judy discovered that she was being watched. She shook away whatever ate at her and supplied Tanaka an air of resolve.
"Damien's… at his most vulnerable right now. He's scared. I don't think he thinks that anyone's on his side." She stole looks between the detective and the officer, then fortified her nerves. "I want him to know how important he is—that he's loved, even if it doesn't look that way. We have his back, come hell or high water. He's not alone."
"I will," Tanaka nodded.
"And don't thank me," she added. "There's still a mammal up there who needs our help, and it won't be me that'll save Damien." Hopps pointed at her with the clipboard. "Bring him back."
Who could argue conviction like that?
"Understood," the feline copied.
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A labored huff escaped Tanaka, her body lethargic when she arrived at the top step. She looked upward through the tight opening in the middle of the stairwell.
Seven out of nine and a half flights of stairs. Large-mammal floors were always the most painful part of the climb. Tanaka could feel the strain starting to creep its way onto her muscles.
Would it be wrong of her to complain about something so trivial? Considering the circumstances, absolutely. She was well beyond trained for this. Tanaka wouldn't have been made an officer if she couldn't scale a—let's be honest—small apartment building.
Suck it up, Tani. Ignore the pain.
A few flights of stairs wouldn't kill her.
Right, Tanaka steeled. She could do that. Judy's counting on me.
The cheetah pressed forward and started up the next flight of stairs. Tanaka refused to let her down—
"Sato."
She paused and glanced behind to see Edward standing at the landing. The detective's paw gripped the top of the railing while his distant gaze struggled to train itself on his partner for very long.
"What is it, Detective Snow?"
The wolf's ears lowered slightly, absorbing Tanaka's voice. Edward still had his eyes pointed at the wall trim. Her annoyance rose. They weren't getting anywhere.
"Is there a problem, Detective?"
His frail voice pierced the thin air. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
Officer Sato scoffed and curled her lip.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but it's a little too late for that. We've got a 10-46 upstairs, and we're wasting time. We're here. Get over it." She continued forward and stomped up the stairs. Under her breath, she muttered, "We're not doing this right now."
"That's not what I meant—"
"Then, what did you—"
Silver digits wrapped around Tanaka's wrist, firm but gentle. She shot back and stared daggers at Edward, ready to pounce.
The lupine looked up in time to sense her ire and released her from his grasp. Tanaka eyed his hunched form intently. Edward steadied himself with a breath.
"You… you don't have to be the one who talks to him. I could do it."
He doesn't think I've got what it takes, she stifled a chuckle. As if he's taking the credit for this. This is my op.
"With all due respect, detective, unless you know sign language, I don't think you'll be much use in this situation."
"You could interpret for me," he offered. Was he pleading? It didn't matter.
"I could, but where would that get us? Another broken family and a casket with his name on it?" Tanaka emphasized through her teeth, pointing a claw up at the ceiling.
Detective Snow's posture shrunk into himself. His tail lay limp on the floor, curling protectively around his foot.
In some universe where their relationship hadn't turned to shit, maybe she would have felt remorse. It was a low blow, but if Edward hadn't gone about burning every bridge, she might've felt inclined to stop herself.
Hell, knowing him, he would have thrown that back at her in a heartbeat. Why hold back? Comeuppance, in her eyes.
Because you both have a job to do.
Tanaka sighed. Integrity would be the death of her.
"I need you to stand by," she compromised. "If signing doesn't work, then we'll have to physically remove him from the roof, and I need you to be ready for that."
"And, if we can't?"
"We will."
The wolf stared silently at her for a beat, scanning her features. Tanaka wasn't sure what he was looking for, but she sure as hell wasn't backing down. Not for him.
Edward, defeated, averted his eyes.
"O-okay," he murmured with a stutter. "We will. We'll do it your way."
And then, something unexpected from the lupine.
Edward's cobalt blues locked with her cinnamon-ringed eyes.
"I trust you."
Tanaka didn't quite know how to take that.
"Glad to hear it," she said plainly, motioning to the next landing, "now, let's get a move on."
The pair trudged up the next flight of stairs single file. When they circled around the next landing, Edward voiced a peculiar concern.
"Just remember who you're doing this for."
Tanaka kept her eyes forward and elected to ignore the comment altogether.
Before the felidae or canidae knew it, they'd arrived at the complex's top floor. The former struggled to catch her breath as she surveyed the path forward.
Sectioned off by thick, black iron bars and an unlocked gate was a steep step ladder. At the top was a lion-sized steel door left completely ajar. Muffled noises from outside poured into the space, garnering attention further down the central hallway. A few mammals had nestled into the doorways of their respective residences, whispering gossip amongst themselves and their neighbors while they gawked from afar.
Tanaka was tempted to flex her authority. Though they weren't getting in the way of their rescue—or breaking any laws, for that matter—they were definitely starting to become a nuisance. Edward had none of it.
"Unless you have vital information regarding the mammal upstairs or are keen on impeding our rescue operation, I suggest you return to your homes immediately," he commanded. "Obstruction of justice is not something I want to detain you for today."
No one dared to challenge him.
Mammals reluctantly dipped back into their apartments. All that remained now were the detective and the officer.
Edward took a sentry position at the hallway's maw, and Tanaka investigated their path forward. She still needed to know how Damien got onto the rooftop.
Spotted mitts brushed against the hasp that screwed into the gate's thick frame. Specks of layered black paint chipped away from the hinge, while deeper scratches exposed some of the stainless steel finish underneath. The adjacent loop's paint job was bare in spots—the result of countless years of locking and unlocking from the landlord or maintenance workers. It felt safe to assume that residents weren't allowed beyond that point.
Considering the lax security measures, an integral item was left unaccounted for.
Where's the lock?
Tanaka didn't happen to see one coming up the stairs. Edward would have noticed it if she hadn't. Wouldn't he?
The officer contemplated for a moment, then ditched her doubts. Good faith was already in short supply, and, more importantly, they were running out of time.
She elected to follow her instincts and replace her inquiry with another.
If she were in Damien's position, how would she have broken in, and how would she have discarded the evidence?
Tanaka performed a quick scan in and around the fenceline. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. From where the wall and fence met, the most she encountered was a moderate layer of dust, dirt, and bits of debris, including crumpled pieces of paper and old food wrappings. A clear trail of hoof imprints led towards the ladder, no doubt created by their mammal-in-peril.
When Tanaka's sight caught the bottom of the step ladder, she noticed a detail out of place. Just before the edge of the first step, she spotted a line, one that slid through layers of dust and dirt. Something had been tossed aside.
Narrowing her eyes to follow the line to the space underneath—with the help of her predatory dark vision—she discovered the object she was looking for, resting behind a veil of thick darkness: an old padlock.
The ever-curious cheetah stepped inside the fenced space. She turned on her phone's flashlight and garnered a closer look.
Scratches and grime covered the lock's brushed metal. The heaviest abrasion centralized at the peak of the shackle, identical to the kind found around the hasp's loop. Closer inspection of the locking mechanism revealed clear signs of tampering from multiple attempts. Dents around the indent made that deduction elementary. The lock was well beyond compromised.
Either the entire complex frequented the roof, or this wasn't the first time Damien had done this. She leaned towards the latter.
Tanaka frowned. She could only imagine what might have pushed Damien to teach himself to pick locks. Perhaps that could explain his parents' lack of trust.
Whatever the case, the tools he might have used were nowhere in sight. They had to be on his person.
Tanaka pocketed her phone, donned a rubber glove, and deposited the padlock into a plastic bag she pulled from her utility belt.
"What'd you find?"
The officer flashed the item to her superior from various angles. "Breaking and entering," she replied, then stowed the bag away into one of her belt pouches. "Looks like he picked up a little side hobby."
"Hmm," Edward acknowledged.
Evidence collected. It was finally time to confront the young Prancer.
Tanaka let out a breath, stuffing the used glove into her back pocket. She planted her foot on the top step. "Ready?"
"Lead the way," muttered the detective's coldness.
Sato and Snow made their final ascent and climbed to the top of the step ladder.
Peering through the open doorway, Tanaka spotted Damien standing at the edge, scanning the street below as he held tightly onto the antenna.
They'd arrived without a second to spare.
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-=O …/ One More Light O=-
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Tanaka's senses went into overdrive as she took her first steps through the doorway.
Questions swirled like a torrent in her mind. How was she going to grab Damien's attention? What would she lead with? How was she going to convince him to stay?
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she forgot to consider her environment.
Gravel crunched loudly beneath her feet, claws scraping uncomfortably against the bits of rock that refused to budge. Mild bouts of wind swept through the buildings and caught the exposed bits of fur on her paws and face, threatening to throw her off balance as the gusts from the bay pushed against her advance.
Simultaneously, the blinding rays of the setting Zootopian sun seared its image into her retinas. Tanaka felt her eyelids scrunch at the drastic change in brightness. Thankfully, her paw blocked the light before it could cause any severe damage to her vision.
When she found her bearings, she detected a new pair of eyes staring at her.
Behind a wide, silvery blue gaze, thirty-odd meters away in the far right corner, the fawn himself was, and he looked terrified.
Tanaka always assumed that "deer in headlights" was just an old saying you'd see written in books or mentioned in television shows. It never occurred to her that she'd encounter the phenomenon, let alone witness it, while on a beat—and on a deer, of all mammals.
Had she really come to know little to no cervidae in her lifetime?
In the seconds between seeing Damien from the stairwell and now, he'd positioned his body directly behind the metal rod. It was as if he'd thought it might have cloaked him entirely. The buck had his snout pointed toward the ground, low and sad.
Bring him back, the voice in her head coaxed.
"[Hi,]" she spoke-signed, breaking the ice with the warmth of a wary smile.
Damien's hooves gripped the pole tighter. His form collapsed in on itself. She could spot signs of swelling in his right eye.
"[I'm Officer Sato. You can call me Tanaka if you want.]" She turned to the wolf. "[This is Detective Snow. You can call him Edward.]"
She didn't turn around but assumed that the lupine was staring daggers into her.
"[You're Damien, right?]"
The teen left her question unanswered. Damien took turns pointing staggered looks between her and the detective. She wasn't going to lull him over with a greeting alone.
"[You mind telling us why you're up here? It's not safe.]"
Damien peered off in a random direction. Short, quickened breaths rose and fell in his chest, adrenaline spikes and heightened anxiety adding more fuel to the fire.
Eventually, he recalled one of his shaky hooves and used his hunched body as an anchor, signing small and broken but dexterous, [What - (do) you - want - (with) me?]
Tanaka filled in the gaps and interpreted for the wolf behind her, "[We want to make sure you're okay,]" she answered.
[(Am) I - (in) trouble?]
"[No,]" the officer fervently shook her head. "[You're not in any trouble, Damien. We just want to talk." I promise.]
The uninterpreted reassurance allowed the fawn to relax a little. Damien peered away from the officer and anxiously fiddled with his hooftips, momentarily losing himself in a flurry of his own thoughts.
Tanaka refused to let the opportunity slip. She took advantage of his lapse in concentration and started approaching him. Edward trailed behind and flanked to the right.
The pair progressed a third of the way before their scheming was foiled.
Damien had turned around and jolted, unaware of how much closer the officer and detective were. He took an awkward half-step back, swiping his right foot on and over the parapet's edge. Luckily, his hoof held on and narrowly avoided losing his balance. She could hear the sounds of unease intensify below.
"[Careful!]" Tanaka signed big and shouted.
Detective Snow's reaction time was inconceivable. He was able to gain a step more ground than her but stopped as soon as the young buck stabilized. He raised his paws as if the stag would have heard the "easy" that escaped his lips.
Officer Sato flipped to damage control. Thumps of her own heartbeat pounded in her ears. Damien was safe, for now.
They all basked in baited silence for a second until she repeated, smaller, calmer, "[Careful.]"
None of them dared to make any sudden movements. Damien held onto the pole with an iron grip. Tanaka steeled herself with a breath.
"[Are you okay?]"
The young buck, apprehensive and shaking like a shivering canine, gave a hesitant nod of affirmation.
"[Good. Let's make a deal. Why don't you let us get closer so you can read my signs better? We won't try something like that again. No more surprises.]"
[No,] he rejected.
"[Then what would you be comfortable with?]" she asked honestly. "[Would you like us to take a step back? We just want to talk, Damien.]"
Damien pondered the counter, looking both the lupine and the feline up and down. He had to have known that she and Edward weren't going away.
If he refused to cooperate, that was it. Forcefully removing him would be their only option. Tanaka didn't want to resort to taking drastic measures so early. Considering how anxious he was, the probability of him surviving should that happen was slim to none.
Thankfully, he compromised.
[There (is) - fine.]
"[Then we'll stay right here,]" Tanaka smiled. She turned to Edward. "[Right]?"
The wolf nodded. He didn't take his eyes off of the buck.
"[I heard you and your parents don't get along much. Is that right?]"
Damien scowled and scoffed defiantly. His free hoof clattered, then formed a meek, [Yes.]
"[My mom and I were like that when I was in high school,]" she admitted. "[I was going through changes, and… had my own problems I was dealing with. We would get into arguments constantly. Some days… it got ugly.]"
The teen gave her a curious look. Tanaka didn't realize how low her voice got—not that he could hear it. Her condensed signs likely conveyed the same message. She switched gears and flashed a smile.
"[Point being: Parents aren't perfect. They're learning just as much as we are growing up. I won't discount what they've done to you, but it doesn't mean that they don't love you any less.]"
Damien gave her a glare.
[No.]
"[No?]"
The cervidae stomped hard and huffed in frustration. Damien leaned his chest into the antenna to free his hooves. Tears pooled in his eyes.
[N-O,] he finger-spelt. The anger laced in his exaggerated movements was palpable. [You're wrong! They don't love me! They never did!]
"[Your mom and dad do love you, Damien. If they didn't, they wouldn't be down there right now waiting for you.]"
When Tanaka gestured at the street, Damien clamped his eyes shut and looked in the opposite direction.
[Then how come they blame me for everything?! Everything's my fault! It's not fair! I didn't want to be born this way.]
"[Don't say that about yourself, Damien. You're perfect just the way you are.]"
[Easy for you to say.]
"[Have you tried sitting them down and talking it out? Maybe if you explain to them how you're feeling—]"
[They - won't - listen!] Damien stamped to every word. [I tried everything! Dad never reads what I write to him, and Mom's always busy. Even if I signed to them, they wouldn't know what I was saying anyway. What's the point? It's not like they'd believe me if they could!]
"[We believe you, Damien,]" the officer attempted to persuade.
[You're not my family.]
"[That's true. But, if not us, then what about your grandmother? I heard that she's done a lot for you over the years. Maybe she could help?]"
[She left.]
Ouch. Tanaka could feel the sting of cold resentment from where she stood.
"[What about friends?]"
[What friends?]
Tanaka grimaced. From how Judy phrased it, she assumed that Damien had other friends beyond the one. Her mistake.
She questioned whether it was worth pressing for more information, but curiosity ultimately got the better of her.
"[How about the one you made a couple years back?]" Tanaka pushed. "[Your grandma took you to self defense lessons and—]"
[Peter is not my friend,] Damien scowled expressively.
"[You mind telling us what happened?]"
The horned teen fiddled with his fingers to answer but stopped. Something clicked in his mind. Officer Sato wondered to herself what that something might be.
Damien spent a few beats in silence, thinking to himself. Then, after a few tries of starting and stopping signs, he came to a revelation.
[You only want to bring me back to my dad. Don't you?]
Tanaka attempted to stifle her shock the best she could but failed.
[Damien, please,] she tried to mediate.
[That's how you found out about Grandma and Peter. He told you about how bad I am, didn't he!?]
"What's he saying, Sato?"
[Didn't he?!]
"Sato?!"
Tanaka rushed to give the lupine the condensed version. "He thinks we're on his dad's side."
Damien didn't stop. [He told you to come up here because he thinks I need to be locked up. You're only being nice because you want me in cuffs. You don't care about me. You never did!]
"[We do care, Damien! He didn't tell us anything, we swear!]"
He wouldn't listen.
[You think just because I'm small and deaf, that means I'm dumb, and I can't understand what's going on. You're just like everyone else—bullies! Well, guess what?! I'm not dumb. I'm not some bad kid like everyone else says I am! And, you know what else?!]
Wrath and fury consumed Damien's inarticulate voice and broke mercilessly when he screamed over the rooftops. He signed for all to see.
"[FUCK YOU!]"
Unbeknownst to the buck, all that followed was silence. Earth-shattering, heavens-shaking, city-stopping silence.
For someone who couldn't hear their own voice, he had a level of control and clarity that surprised the feline officer. His delivery wasn't perfect by any means, but it was close enough. He'd been taught; there was no doubt. By whom, no one could say.
The moment Damien's frantic signing had stopped, the dams gave way and finally burst. Hiding under his arm did nothing to shield how he felt. Tears streamed down his face like a waterfall.
[I'm sorry,] he sniffled, barely capable of forming the phrase small enough for her and Edward to perceive.
Tanaka wanted nothing more than to rush over and console him, much like her mother did for her all those years ago. Yet she found herself paralyzed.
Solutions were miles out of reach. The odds were stacked against them. Too late to make an advance. Too far away to react. Damien held all the cards.
The buck vigorously wiped the water away from his fur and eyes. Breaths caught in his throat as his vitriol pointed inward.
[I… I don't want to be bullied anymore. I don't want my dad to hate me anymore. I wish I wasn't deaf. I wish…]
He paused. A weighted look consumed his features.
[I wish I wasn't even born.]
Ice filled Tanaka's veins. She suddenly became more aware. Wait.
[Kenne was right. I am better off dead.]
Time slowed to a crawl.
Damien gently released himself from the safety and security of the pole and started down the length of the parapet. Voices swelled from the street below. Edward swore beside her. Tanaka, breathless, felt her heart go into her stomach.
"[Talk with us, Damien,]" she panicked, trailing him down the length of the raised concrete. "[Don't do this. Don't shut us out.]"
The antlered mammal ignored her plea—he didn't even look in her direction.
[Damien, please!]
For the second time in her career, Tanaka felt helpless.
Damien's eyes followed the parapet until he reached his destination halfway down. When he looked up, he saw the beauty of the Zootopian Bay. Waters glistened in the light of the setting orange sun.
Another gentle breeze swept through the cityscape, caressing the teen and the two law enforcers. Damien took in the wind with a calming breath, ingraining the moment into his memory. He looked at peace despite the solemn look in his eyes.
That was until a small rock hit him in the thigh.
Tanaka and Damien failed to mask their surprise. The teen looked down, then towards her. No. Not her.
The cheetah traced the rock's trajectory to the mammal standing beside her. Edward Snow was juggling another rock in his paw. There was a forlorn look in his eye.
"Tanaka," the wolf entreated, "interpret for me. Let me talk to him. Please."
There wasn't any time to argue. Sato nodded in agreement.
Edward sucked in a breath and spoke to Damien. "Give me ten minutes," he said, pointing to Tanaka, who relayed the request. "Give me ten minutes to try and convince you to stay. After that, you can make the call."
Damien stared at him long enough for Tanaka to start getting nervous. Eventually, he came to a decision.
[Fine.]
The lupine relaxed his shoulders when the interpreted word reached his ears and released the rock in his paw. "Thank you."
That wasn't all that fell. Edward effortlessly unclipped the utility belt from his torso. It clattered unceremoniously to the ground.
"Detective?" Sato inquired.
Edward didn't answer. He untucked his shirt and drew in a slow breath. Tanaka didn't know what game he was playing at, but she knew something didn't feel right.
"I'm staying three meters away from you," the wolf announced. "Don't do anything. I won't try anything. I promise."
The wolf sauntered forward, unafraid. She couldn't translate the last sentence fast enough. Damien tensed but stayed where he was once he understood the parameters. Tanaka marched a couple steps toward the canid.
"What are you doing?!"
"No, stay!" Edward angrily barked the order, placing a paw on the parapet.
A startled Tanaka sucked in a sharp breath and froze. It was like she was a little kit with her paw trapped in a cookie jar.
She wanted to say that she obeyed the order for the sake of appearance—how would it look if Damien happened to witness the officers charged with saving him reduce themselves to infighting? In reality, she did it for a much simpler reason.
Tanaka was scared. Her grasp on the situation had all but faded. It came down to this: She and Damien had to trust Edward. There was no other choice.
His voice lowered and almost pleaded when he reiterated, "Interpret for me."
Detective Snow didn't wait for an answer. He climbed up onto the ledge and balanced himself on the half-meter-wide platform. Another cacophony of grievances roared. Officer Sato held her breath.
Edward stabilized himself with ease. He scanned his surroundings and then pointed his muzzle up to the sky. The incoming wind fluttered his shirt and trousers in protest. He drew a slow breath and exhaled.
"I drove a mammal to suicide."
A long beat of sullen silence suffocated the air around them. Tanaka thought she might have misheard something when translating it for the buck. Damien mimicked the officer, looking dumbstruck at the wolf.
"When I was a kid, I wanted to be one of the biggest, baddest mammals in the Burrows," he admitted. "I picked on those who I thought of as weak. I didn't care who I hurt. I wanted to be strong."
The wolf pointed his snout to the street below.
"There was one mammal in particular that I picked on the most—a tiger. His name was Charlie."
Invoking the name prompted Edward to shift uncomfortably where he stood. His body began to shake. Tanaka didn't know what for, but she waited with Damien for an explanation.
"At some point in high school, I started to understand why I picked on him so much. I liked him. His quirky smile, his charming personality… his way with words. I got jealous when anyone talked to him. I wanted that for myself but didn't know how to express it. The Spring of our sophomore year came, and I took a chance. I confessed my love to him. Considering what I'd done, it was hard for him to entertain the idea. His friend advised against it—said I belonged in some ditch somewhere. Maybe she was right."
[What happened?] Damien asked, Tanaka relayed.
"He made me apologize. When I did, genuinely, he said yes. We spent the Summer together. We learned more about each other. Found out that he came from a severely broken home. His father left him. His mother beat him. School was his only escape. I told him that I felt guilty. He showered me with nothing but reassurances."
A low growl resonated in the air.
"Even knowing I made life a living hell for him, he still loved me. Despite what I did—all those years of suffering—he forgave me, even if I didn't deserve it. When I introduced him to my family, my parents welcomed him with open arms. They were proud of me—of us."
Edward's voice cracked, then wavered into woeful resentment.
"I got scared. Whenever I was around him, I felt so… vulnerable, so… weak. I didn't know what it was like to have someone so close before. Fuck…" Fallen tears shimmered in the sherbet-colored sunlight. His voice cracked again. "I panicked. We fought. I… said things I shouldn't have. We broke up. For me, everything went back to the way things were—I was a bully again. For Charlie, nothing was ever the same. His world collapsed. He lost everything. By the time I saw him again, it was too late. Even with all my strength, I… I couldn't save him."
[Why are you telling me this?] the cervidae asked.
"I couldn't comprehend what losing someone like that would mean," the lupine answered, pinching the bridge of his snout to compose himself. "If I knew what consequences my actions would've led to, maybe I wouldn't have become some delinquent backyard bully. If I wasn't such an asshole, maybe I'd have actual friends. If I wasn't so scared—if I was stronger—maybe Charlie would still be alive."
The lupine ducked his head.
"It's still my fault. I can't take any of it back. I wish I could. Living with that guilt has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Some days, it's just too much."
The canine gave a look at his open silver paw. A shiver ran down Tanaka's spine. She somehow lost the strength to look at him. Parts of her covered forearms ached. She knew that look.
Edward took that paw and fiddled with the badge pinned to his chest. After removing it, he stared at the golden shield, thumb brushing over the lettering.
"I've burned every bridge imaginable in my lifetime. I've lost everyone that I ever cared about. All in pursuit of this ," the detective gestured to the shield. "This badge is all I have left. If I lose this…"
Edward's watery gaze peered towards the bay, paws falling to their sides. He gripped the badge tight.
"Then there's nothing left in my life worth living for."
Those haunting words hung heavy in the air for a while. Tanaka didn't want to translate them at all. Admitting to someone already on the brink that they were at the end of their rope? It didn't sit well with her. Not one bit.
But she did. Damien responded accordingly, mouth ajar, unmoving silence, commiseration.
Tanaka mostly felt the latter. She knew Edward wasn't doing well. Based on what Bogo told her, Tanaka assumed he was just a mammal with a myriad of problems. If only she had grasped how bad it actually was.
One deep nasal inhale lulled the wolf into a more sensible headspace.
"I want to be better," Edward broke the silence, reattaching the badge to his shirt. "I'm trying to be better. I don't know what that looks like or how I will get there, but… I hope I can make up for it someday. One step at a time."
He turned to Damien.
"Your friend—Peter, was it?" He scrunched his face at the question and nodded. "Who is he to you?"
[No one.]
"He's not no one," Edward flatly deflected. "Peter is someone special to you. You wouldn't be up here if he wasn't."
[He's not special,] he stressed. [He's a backstabbing jerk who never cared about me.]
"What did he do?"
Damien looked away. He recalled the moment with a downcast frown and bawled hooves.
[Nothing,] he answered. [He ran away, and I got beat up.]
"He didn't join them?" The stag mulled it over, then shook his head. "Do you think you know why he ran?"
[Because he was scared.]
"Or he might have been trying to get help."
[What difference does it make?]
"A pretty big one, to be honest," Edward shrugged matter-of-factly. "If all he was doing was trying to save his own skin, then you might have an argument about being angry. Even then, there's still a caveat. Beyond the fact that getting involved physically could lead to serious injury or—"
[Expulsion,] Damien's form shrunk.
"Depending on the severity, yeah," he nodded. "Either way—expulsion, detention, or whatever punishment your school deems fitting—you were going up against mammals that had already gotten away with it before."
[So?]
"If I were Peter and knew they would overpower me, I would've thought twice about taking the risk."
[So Peter was right?]
"Can't say for sure," he shrugged. "I won't say what he did was right or wrong. Everyone reacts differently in a fight. We'd be in an entirely different situation if Peter had gotten involved. For all we know, he could have been trying to diffuse the situation in a different way," Snow countered. "Remind me, how long have you two known each other?"
[Two years.]
"That's a long time. Judy told us that you were teaching him some sign language. Looks like he taught you how to speak a little, too. Impressive." Damien became bashful. "Seems weird to want to throw away a friendship like that out of the blue, don't you think?"
[I guess.]
"Are you positive he didn't try to de-escalate the situation before they attacked you?"
Hooves clattered together in the long pause that followed. Tanaka hoped that Edward had finally broken through. Damien, however, gave into doubt and deflated.
[Do you think I'm a liar?]
"No, I don't."
[Then why do you keep asking me these dumb questions?]
"Because I don't want you to end up how Charlie did. Don't give it all up because of one supposedly bad judgment call—you don't have all the facts yet."
Edward took a beat in deep thought to mull over everything.
"Peter means a lot to you, right?" He nodded. "And he didn't join the bullies when they attacked you, right?" A shrug. "Maybe there's something there that you're not seeing."
The annoyed buck scoffed.
"Listen, I can understand how hard this is for you. You've been hurt so many times by the people closest to you. Even the smallest mistake feels like the end of the world. You feel like you can't trust anyone anymore. But you can trust us."
[Why should I believe you?]
"Because we care. The things you've gone through were awful. They shouldn't have happened, Damien. To think that anyone would believe that you would actively provoke these mammals is beyond me. You're a smart mammal. It's not your fault. None of this is."
[You don't know me.]
"You know what? You're right. I don't," Edward agreed, much to Damien's surprise. "But I'm not blind. And you know what I see?"
[What?]
"I can see that your eye is swollen. You're struggling to keep pressure off of your left foot."
Tanaka raised a brow and peered over at the deer. Sure enough, the back of his left foot refused to touch the ground. Why hadn't she noticed that? How long had he been nursing it? His stomping wasn't making things any easier.
"Someone hurt you. That's not okay. But this isn't the solution to making those problems go away. I know you're hurting inside—believe me, I get it—but you're not alone. You don't want to die, do you?"
The remorseful look Damien conjured was all the answer they needed to see.
"We want to help, Damien. Let us help you."
[Why? It's not like you can do anything about it.]
"Yes, we can. We can get the school involved and bring these kids to justice. We can't do that without your help."
[There's no point!] Damien stomped, failing to mask a wince. [They're just going to get away with it again. It doesn't matter what you promise. Why bother for some dumb, deaf kid?]
"Because it does matter—and you're not dumb. We're not going to let them brush this aside. Your life matters. You matter."
Tears pooled in the teen's eyes. His signs were laced with venom. [No, I don't.]
"You do matter, Damien. You're not dumb. Don't let your mind trick you into thinking that."
[I don't! You're only just saying that so you can be some hero. You're just like mom and dad—I'm just another bad mammal to you!]
"You're not a bad mammal," Edward persisted.
[Stop lying to me!]
"[We would never lie to you, Damien,]" Tanaka countered.
Edward correctly mimicked the motions Tanaka interpreted before and insisted, "[You matter, Damien.]"
Damien shivered and shook while clutching at his arms, body buckling under the weight of positive affirmation.
"Despite everything that's happened, you're still here. That's what's important."
The wolf took a few brave steps forward. Damien didn't react to it. Tanaka swore and maneuvered closer to the edge where Damien could see her better.
"Don't you see? You're not some burden."
Edward stopped before the teen and gently placed a paw on his shoulder. The buck's body jolted at the contact.
"You're strong. You're one of the strongest mammals I've ever met."
Swallowed sniffles and shakes rattled the cervidae to his core when Tanaka finished translating. Tanaka fought the urge to tear up.
Damien somehow found the strength to sign again, peering painfully between her and the detective. [What do I do now?]
"You live," he said. "It's going to be hard. It won't be easy. You're going to make mistakes, and others will, too. But you keep going because you have to. You're here for a reason."
[How will I know what that is?]
"By taking life one step at a time."
The second the message was perceived, the young stag broke down. Damien lunged at the canid and wrapped his lanky arms tightly around the wolf's midsection. Raw, audible apologies quivered in his throat. Torrents of water from his sobs stained against dark navy blue.
The lupine didn't fight it. Two silver arms were there to reciprocate the warm gesture. The teen melted deeper into the embrace, balling the shirt tight in his hooves. Whatever emotion Edward felt in the moment remained concealed behind a vacant thousand-yard veneer Tanaka found impossible to decipher.
Whatever the case, she hoped that this brought him closer to forgiveness.
Damien cried and cried until all of his emotions were spent. The tuckered-out teen unlatched himself from the wolf when he felt stable enough. If it weren't for the detective holding a paw to his back, he might've collapsed altogether. His adrenaline was crashing fast.
When Tanaka shuffled back within his line of sight and recaptured captured the cervidae's attention, she asked, "[Do you want to try getting down?]"
Damien nodded lethargically. He struggled to keep his head held high.
"Let's try it," the wolf followed.
Edward waited until Damien was strong enough to stand on his own and hopped back onto the rocky rooftop. He held onto Damien's wrist with a featherlight grip. Even when the young buck hesitated, there was no force. The lupine wanted the decision to be his.
"Come on," Snow coaxed. "Let's get you back on solid ground."
A beat of contemplation passed once the signs were formed. After a nod, hooves touched back down onto the gravel. Thunderous cheers bellowed from below. Tanaka breathed a sigh of relief.
Damien was safe.
Edward allowed Damien to advance once the stag had agreed to a pat down and planted himself between him and the parapet afterwards. There would be no opportunity for Damien to return to immediate danger—not to say he would now.
Time to get him the help he deserves.
Tanaka smiled at him and said, "[Alright, Damien, we're going to get you to…]"
Her voice trailed off along with her fleeting hand motions. Damien wasn't paying attention to her. His head was ducked, and his eyes were shut. He held his wrists close together, outstretched, waiting.
The corners of the cheetah's mouth fell into a disheartened frown. Damien was attempting to surrender himself to them.
Tanaka approached and covered his hooves with one of her paws. The deer peeled open his eyes and returned a pleading look, allowing the weight of the spotted mass to lull his arms back down to waist height.
"[Are you okay?]"
Damien fiddled with his hooves for a moment, then signed back, [Aren't you going to arrest me?]
"[No,]" she shook her head, "[I don't think that will be necessary.]"
[But, I… I broke…]
"[Broke what?]" Before the horned mammal could formulate an answer, she dug into one of the pouches on her belt and fished out a bagged lock. "[You mean this?]"
Damien froze at the sight of it and sunk into himself. There was guilt laced in his anxious movements.
"[We just so happened to stumble across this in the stairwell. Had a ton of dust on it when we found it. Figured that it had been sitting there for a while.]" She stuffed the object back into the same pouch whence it came. "[We'll have to talk to the landlord about securing rooftop access. Nothing too serious. All they'll need to do is replace the lock.]"
[But it was—]
"[Unfortunate,]" Tanaka finished for him, disregarding whatever he might have ended his sentence with. "[Detective Snow didn't find anything during your pat down. You don't have any weapons we should be afraid of. Plus there aren't any tools that would insinuate probable cause. There's no reason to suspect you've done anything incriminating.]"
Guilt tugged at Damien's heartstrings once more.
[Though, between you and me, whoever broke in could make a pretty good locksmith someday.]
Bashful eyes struggled to comprehend that.
[It's in pretty high demand,] she jested. [Who's else gonna help this bozo if he locks himself out of his cruiser?]
The smug grin she wore after gesturing to Edward sparked a hint of a smile from Damien. The lupine didn't question it. It looked like he wasn't paying attention at all.
Surely, Edward would've understood.
"[You're not a bad mammal, Damien,]" she comforted, "[you never were.]"