It was chaos. They had Bellwether's goons hot on their tails, his heart was pounding in his ears and not for the first time in the same day, Nick wondered if this was what it felt like being a primeval prey species running for their life from the deadly, snapping jaws of a predator.

She was holding the briefcase, of course she was holding the briefcase with the incriminating evidence, and of course it would be her, Judy Goody-Two-Shoes Hopps, who got her leg shredded, leaving him, the ex-conman and borderline criminal, with an on-the-spot decision about what to do. And of course, he just had to be a fox with his veins pumped full with adrenaline, all jumpy under pressure and fumbling badly with his poor excuse of a first aid attempt, because he couldn't just carry her out of there like some bigger animal could. If things could get any more predictably like an action thriller movie, he might just have to start filming his life story. He'd probably be able to retire on the spot with the big bucks it would undoubtedly rake in.

He had very briefly considered leaving the bunny behind. After all, he could just grab the briefcase, he was hale and whole and Judy, being Judy, would stall their pursuers for him without a second thought – and probably even praise him for it afterwards. Assuming she survived the encounter. Or he could even just bolt and forget everything ever happened, forget about Judy, go back to his cushy life being a successful conman and leave the policing to the police, the way it should have been in the first place. But then in the next fraction of a second she had cried out in pain, crumpling and vanishing from the edge of his vision as she hugged her leg in agony, and that sound had pierced straight into his shriveled shell of a heart, had silenced every doubt in his head.

Judy was hurt. And he'd be damned if he left her behind.

He tried to carry her with him, he really did. His muscles were screaming in protest and his breath came in hard and heavy puffs, and the briefcase felt heavier than ever, but he couldn't let go of it, couldn't let go of either of them. Judy would never forgive him if he left the briefcase behind, and he would never forgive himself if he left her behind. Nick could feel his body giving out, and he hated himself then for not being some other more powerful species as his pace slowed, the thudding of the rams' hooves coming closer.

Let it be said that getting rammed in the side by, well, a ram hurt as much as everyone ever imagined it to be. Make no mistake about it.

It took all the already limited breath out of his lungs, and as he hit the ground of the enclosure, the impact shook him to the bone, scattering stars across his vision. Both briefcase and bunny had slipped out of his grasp, but it just so happened that one tumbled with him into the pit, and the other didn't. No prizes for guessing which was which.

That was it, he figured. They were trapped, they'd lost the evidence. Said bunny would probably have his head once this whole thing blew over, however this whole fiasco would end. For now, he was somewhat (and selfishly) more concerned about what was going to happen to himself and his companion-friend now that Bellwether had them at her mercy. For all he knew, she'd probably want the two of them silenced – for good – and no, Nick Wilde was not ready to die for justice just yet. But his Judy, bless her feisty soul, still had the spunk to spit at the sheep with enough acid in her tone to melt through steel. In any other circumstance Nick would probably have found her spunk incredibly hot. No doubt there was some history between them – he had to admit that he had suspected absolutely nothing from the frazzled Vice Mayor of Zootopia. She had seemed barely capable of managing the Mayor's schedule, let alone mastermind such a crime and actually train a gun between his eyes -

Oh. She had a gun pointed at him.

It took his sharp wit less than two seconds to figure out why he was on the business end of a gun, but two seconds was all it took for the Night Howler pellet to cross the distance between himself and Bellwether. Two seconds was also all it took for Judy to collide into the upper half of his torso, effectively shoving him aside – as the fox crashed to the ground for the second time in that hour, the sphere imploded on impact on the bunny's shoulder.

And then chaos happened. "No!" Bellwether's screech was drowned out by the mess of proceedings and his utter confusion at what was going on. Nick scrabbled at the ground, trying to get off his back as fast as he was able to, to make some kind of response to what was happening around him. Here was where the cliché action plot started going off the rails – Judy gasped, panting harshly as convulsions wracked her slight frame. Why was the drug affecting her? She was a rabbit, a prey species. Could prey even turn savage? It was an utterly alien concept to imagine. Nick was at an utter loss for what to do, as Bellwether screeched some colorful words at her goons and the bunny before him writhed and growled. What was one supposed to do in this kind of situation?!

Just then, Judy turned on him, the transformation complete, and he was treated to his first-ever view of a rabid bunny, complete with wild eyes and rasping hisses. There was no recognition in those pretty amethyst eyes of hers, and the moment he thought that, she was on him in a grey blur, hissing and snapping and holy frick rabbit teeth in his arm hurt like a son of a-

With a snarl of effort, the fox did his best to grapple with the rabbit, trying to get her off of him. Amidst pain-glazed eyes, he saw as Bellwether and her two goons scarpered before they could get caught, their forms vanishing out of sight from where he was stuck at the bottom of the pit. Nick swore loudly, and, making the most of his taller frame, fought to keep Judy at arm's length as he fumbled for his phone. "I don't want to hurt you, Judy, so cut it out," he forced out from between gritted teeth, feeling the sickening sensation of her incisors grating against bone. He groped for his phone, but as Judy lashed out in a particularly violent spasm, the device dropped to the ground, and he swore again.

"C'mon, Carrots, work with me here," he growled, feeling the blood starting to drip down his arm in warm rivulets. He didn't want to think about how his arm was turning into a ragged mess of torn flesh, instead, he reached out his foot for the phone and hit the speed-dial.

"Finnick!" he yelled the moment the call went through. "Natural History Museum! Get the cops, call an ambulance too! Right now!"

And then Judy went for his face, making him lose his balance and fall over again. It took all of his effort to keep her at bay without hurting her too much, though he could imagine that he was going to leave bruises where he forcefully held her back by the neck. With a grunt, he managed to catch the collar of her uniform, and held her out at arm's length while she kicked and screeched. It was no easy task, and it seemed like an eternity later that the wailing sirens of the ambulances and the ZPD finally arrived at the scene to peel Judy off him. He was grateful then that the paramedics didn't ask too many questions – just one word "savage" was enough for them to work with.

They were a mess, both of them matted with sweat and blood. His blood. Judy was bound and forced into a straitjacket, and bundled into one ambulance. Now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off, Nick staggered as he got up, dizzy with the profound loss of blood that he had suffered, and actually collapsed into the shocked arms of the nearest paramedic. Finnick would never let him hear the end of it – glancing around, Nick noticed the tiny fennec having a word with that ZPD chief, before coming over to him, uncharacteristic worry in his gaze.

"How you doin?" Finnick asked in his deep baritone, as nurses bound Nick's upper arm with a tourniquet and started attending to his mess of a forearm.

"I'm gonna be sick," Nick replied through the haze of pain, his head lolling back. "Drug me please." One of the nurses obligingly gave him a morphine shot, praise the Lord, and his eyes slid shut from the blissful relief spreading through his veins.

"I didn't know prey could go savage," the smaller fox remarked.

"You think I did man?" Nick wiggled his mutilated arm, smiling dopily from the painkiller, earning him a sharp word from the paramedic bandaging the wound. "Judy's the last person I'd imagine to go savage."

"Maybe she's secretly a pred. Now that's an interesting girlfriend you got, Slick."

"Shut up," Nick groaned. The morphine in his bloodstream was doing wonders, and coupled with the events of the day and the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, his body was starting to shut down. "I'm gonna pass out now."

And so he did.

Nick woke up in a hospital bed, with his left arm heavily bandaged. Rolling his eyeballs, his gaze swept across the room. He was alone.

Sitting up with effort, he rubbed the back of his neck with his good paw, noting the IV drip attached to it. He was starting to feel all the bruises and sore spots from everything that happened the day before. His mutilated arm throbbed with a dull ache, but it wasn't anything he couldn't endure – spotting his phone alongside his few other pocketed possessions on the bedside table, he reached for it. It was dusty, and the cover looked dented and loose from the fall in the museum's exhibition pit. Briefly he mused that it wasn't too great of a phone, to be this damaged following a fall on semi-hard dirt. Hardly worth the money he had spent on it. Turning it over, he tapped the back cover, halfheartedly trying to get it back in place. That was when he noticed the blood trapped in the seams.

His blood.

Dried and crusted in various spots, not something that he could get out without dismantling the device and cleaning each individual part. He sobered at the thought, turning his eyes to glance at the thick wad of bandages encasing his left arm. He'd never look down his nose at a prey species ever again. If someone had told him that one day a bunny, his natural prey, would do a kickass job at literally shredding him, he'd have fallen over laughing. Now, it wasn't funny so much as it was saddening.

Tapping the power button, he activated his phone. The screen was cracked, and as he swiped the lock screen, his phone lit up with the photo of him and Judy, her arms thrown around him, the bunny's bright smile and brighter eyes hogging most of the camera. He remembered letting her butt into his photos with fond exasperation – the little hillbilly probably never even knew what a selfie was up till that point, let alone have a chance to take one. He would never admit it till his dying day, but it was his favorite photo. At least before the screen got busted. The cracks ran over Judy's face like a spiderweb, splitting her bright, frozen expression into a hundred little flecks. He tried not to think about how much that reflected her current psyche. Scrolling through his missed notifications, he spotted one of interest.

1 New Message from Big Guy.

He touched the notification. Call me when you wake up. That was it. No sappy get-well-soons or anything of the sort, not that he expected Finnick to ever say that kind of thing. The fennec had always been curt and succinct in text. Shrugging to himself, he hit the speed dial.

Finnick picked up on the third ring. "Hey Slick." His deep voice came through the phone. "How're you doing?"

"I'm bedridden and about to die," Nick replied with a perfectly straight voice. "I'm leaving everything in my will to Judy. You get nothing, sonny boy. Serves you right for not laughing at my jokes all these years."

"Ha-ha." Finnick's voice was dry. "If you weren't busted up I'd come over and show you 'sonny boy', you little piece of crap. I take you're in better shape than Hopps at any rate."

Nick sat up at that, holding the phone tighter to his ear. "How is she? Do you know anything?"

"In case you forgot, Slick, we're both technically criminals, and unlike you I wasn't involved in the whole shebang. I have contacts, but I can't promise how reliable they are."

"Just spit it out, Finnick."

"Not good." There was a long pause. "She's not a pred, Nick. Being savage isn't a natural part of her biology. Her body's pumping out more aggression that she can handle for long periods of time, who knows how she'll be like once the docs get the drug out. If they ever get it out, that is."

"Where is she?"

"Zootopia Medical Research Facility. That's where they're currently keeping all the savage animals."

"Got it. Thanks." Nick hung up, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, throwing off the covers. Glancing at the IV stand, he contemplated for a moment what to do about it. Take it with him? Rip out the needle? He didn't particularly fancy risking an accidental injury on top of his existing one. Before he could make up his mind, however, the door opened, and a deer in a lab coat entered the ward, closing the door behind him.

"Good afternoon, Mr Wilde. I'm your physicist, Dr. Buck. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," the fox grunted shortly in reply, trying his best to stuff all of his limited belongings back into his pockets with his one good paw. "Now if you don't mind, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd take this needle out, then I'll be on my way."

"I would advise against any rash ideas, Mr Wilde. You've lost a lot of blood, and you should remain in bed for the next few days in order to make a full recovery," Dr. Buck informed him, making a cursory examination of his bandaged wound. "You're in no shape to be traipsing around Zootopia as it is."

"Doesn't matter," Nick muttered, still trying to stuff his wallet into his left pocket using only his right hand, while remaining seated. "I have somewhere to be." Successfully cramming the wallet into the desired pocket, he stretched out the arm with the IV attached, waving it in an unspoken request to have it removed.

The deer appraised him for a long moment, ignoring his gestures. "If it's Officer Hopps you're concerned about, I can assure you that there hasn't been much progress on her current condition. The research facility is working on a cure – aside from that, all we can do for now is wait." Dr. Buck paused, letting that sink in as he shuffled the papers on his clipboard. "I'm actually here to inform you that the ZPD has requested to speak with you at the earliest convenience. You're the only one lucid enough to provide a statement about what happened in the museum. Do you think you're well enough for that?"

Nick let out a dry laugh. "Figures. To be honest I'm not really sure what happened myself." He stretched as best as he could, then sighed. "Might as well get it over with. Send them in whenever."

"Alright." Dr. Buck stood up, and checked that the IV and heart monitors were in place and working properly. "Is there anything you need that I can get you?"

The fox opened his mouth, and paused. He'd like his Carrots back, safe and sound and properly sane, though he knew it wasn't really possible at the moment. So he settled for the next-best thing. At least it would remind him of her, carrot pen and all.

"…I'd like a carrot, please."

Three days and several statements later, Nick Wilde was released from the hospital and Bellwether was facing trial for causing civil unrest and for substance abuse. Judy having gone savage was the greatest evidence they could offer that it wasn't some form of predator DNA issue, and the surveillance footage from the museum was proof enough that Bellwether was deeply entrenched in the whole case. Anyhow his job was done – Judy would be so proud of him for having done what was needed, but it was a hollow victory if anything at all, because Judy mattered more to him than being a public hero did. He'd had Finnick pick him up from the hospital, and no words were exchanged as they drove towards the Zootopia Medical Research Facility.

The cure had worked on Mr. Otterton, the one predator gone savage that was closest to Judy in size. It was bittersweet watching the otter family reunite, while next door, his bunny was still out cold, strapped to her bed with an oxygen mask over her face. Nick visited every day, and each day, more and more of the larger predators woke up, reunited with their family and friends, and eventually departed the facility, perfectly healthy and sane. Soon, it was only Judy left, still lying prone on her bed, the heart rate monitor and the fogging of her mask the only indicator that she was alive.

"We've given her the shot," a lizard scientist had informed him when he'd expressed his concern. "We're not sure why she's taking so long to wake up, it might be because the predatory aggression took a heavy toll on her body. We've already taken her off the sedatives, her body just has to work through the fatigue on its own."

"Will she be alright?" the fox asked softly, a paw pressed against the glass pane between him and Judy, his breath misting the glass faintly.

"We can't know for sure. For the predators, it wasn't too large a step for them to revert to their savage roots. No offense meant, but them being biologically more aggressive in evolutionary nature compared to prey species, it was easier for them to make the transition to savagery and back. Miss Hopps, however, as a rabbit, was never built to handle the high levels of aggression that the drug induced. She's exhausted herself to the brink while we were working on the cure, and there's no telling if she's able to fully make the transition back." The lizard fiddled with his lab coat nervously. "There might be residual brain damage or psychological aftereffects, trauma and the like, but again, we have no records to compare her case with, so it's mostly speculative. As it is we're just hoping for the best."

Nick nodded absently, still watching the faint rise and fall of the sheets as Judy breathed. "Thank you." His paw rubbed at the bandages over his still-healing arm. The doctors had told him that there would be heavy and permanent scarring, though he would retain the full use of his arm following recovery. Talk about something to remember Judy by. Because tattoos were totally so mainstream.

The lizard trotted off with a relieved huff, leaving him to his own devices. With a sigh, the fox pulled out his phone and activated the lockscreen, passing his fingers over the photo behind the shattered screen. She'd become important to him over the few days he had known her, and it wasn't every day that someone managed to worm their way into his heart. Ever since he'd left his hometown, he didn't have much in the way of friends aside from Finnick. The bunny was something, he'd give her that. Waving goodbye to Finnick, Nick stuffed the phone back into his pocket, and quietly let himself into Judy's ward.

After all, he had nowhere better to be.

"…Nick?"

A soft, raspy groan jerked him from the clutches of sleep. With a jolt, Nick realized that he'd fallen asleep at Judy's bedside, and that night had fallen while he was out of it. Nowhere near the middle of the night, fortunately – he'd visited during the afternoon and it was now late evening. Somehow no one had come to wake him or kick him out of the ward.

Straightening and rolling his stiff shoulders, he turned to the source of the soft sounds. Judy's eyes were fluttering open, and the glimpse of her amethyst gaze, clear and lucid, was almost enough to reduce him to pathetic tears. He'd missed her. So much that he had to restrain himself from hugging her to bits. As it was he had to limit himself to holding her paw and asking her how she felt.

"Feels like I did twenty reps of ZPD's obstacle course," she groaned, her voice was hoarse and raspy from disuse. "And then got trampled by my instructor."

Nick let out a soft huff of fond amusement. "I thought you did twenty reps on a regular basis, and got trampled by everyone else." She didn't seem to have noticed his bandaged arm just yet, not that it mattered right now. She wasn't really in the condition to fret and he wasn't about to start guilt-tripping her. At least not yet. He was sure it would be absolutely fun to tease her about bunnies and gnawing till her dying day. Only after she got better, though.

"You'd be calling me Carrot Stew instead." Judy coughed amidst her wan smile. "Water…?"

Nick faced a moment of indecision as to whether he should get her water, or free her from her restraints first. Swiftly making up his mind, he popped open the clasps, and left her to shrug herself out of them while he poured the water from a jug on the bedside table. When he turned back to her, glass in paw, he found Judy lying limply against the pillows, face ashen, having hardly done anything more than just pull her arms free and pull off the oxygen mask. Even that seemed as if it took a monumental effort. Her arms trembled as she reached up for the glass, and it was by sheer intuition alone that Nick didn't immediately let go of the glass – it slipped through her weak fingers, the water inside sloshing and some of it spilling onto her bed before he re-tightened his hold and held it steady for her.

"Sorry," Judy rasped, in what would have been an apologetic tone if it weren't for the heavy exhaustion masking her voice. "Don't know what's gotten into me."

Well, he knew exactly what, at least before the antidote got the Night Howler drug out of her system. Deciding to say nothing on the subject, Nick sat down beside her, and gently lifted the glass to her lips. "It's alright. Here, I'll help you." Judy drank gratefully, reminding him of a child drinking with help from a parent, and when the glass was empty he set it aside. "Still so tired," she mumbled, looking half-asleep and listing sideways onto his shoulder. "Please stay?"

There was never a question about it. "Sure." Nick pulled off the rest of the bindings from around her torso and legs, tossing it over the edge of the bed to get it out of the way, then slipped out of his shoes. Clambering into the bed next to Judy, he got into a more comfortable reclining position and pulled the covers over the both of them. The facility personnel hadn't shooed him out yet, and he decided that they likely wouldn't bother him so long as he didn't do anything disruptive. It probably wasn't as strict as the hospital. Judy curled against him, already asleep, a small, warm weight against his side that he found he rather liked. The fox gently put his good arm around her, and closed his eyes.

Nick woke up to something warm snuffling against his armpit. It wasn't exactly something one would wake up to on a regular basis, and for a moment he wondered if he was still trapped in some odd dream. Before his bleary mind could register what on earth said thing was, it chomped down on the tender flesh where his arm met his chest.

With a yelp of surprise and pain, he scrambled out of the covers and fell off the bed in an undignified heap. Something else tumbled out over the covers at his abrupt exit, and a glance told him that it was Judy, who had presumably been feeling peckish and decided to take a bite out of the nearest object. Looking up at the bunny sprawled out on the bed, Nick's first thought was confusion, then vague apology for the rough handling of a bunny still recovering from what had to be severe trauma.

Then again she did bite him first.

Judy didn't look miffed like he expected. Instead she was watching him intently from her sprawled position on the covers, almost like she was hypnotized, a predatory hunger in those amethyst eyes of hers that sent a chill down his spine. For a moment he felt like she was sizing him up, and deliberating whether he was worth taking another bite out of.

"Judy?" A single word, said crisply, and just like that, she somehow snapped out of it. Blinking rapidly, she shook her head like she was trying to clear it. "Nick? Are you – I – what happened?"

"You kinda bit me." Nick rubbed at the throbbing spot. Didn't seem like it was bleeding, which was good. "I panicked. Pretty much it." That scientist wasn't kidding when he mentioned possible mental issues.

Her eyes widened. "I – I did? I'm sorry! I really don't… I don't know what came over me…" She trailed off as her eyes landed on his heavily bandaged arm, instantly wary of what it might mean. "How did that happen?"

"It's no big deal, I'll tell you some other time. Don't worry about it." He smiled placatingly. "You okay?"

The bunny was quiet for a moment. "Yeah… I think. Still a little tired but that's it."

"No lingering feelings of kinkiness?"

"I – no – what the heck, Nick! Ew!" Nick ducked the pillow-missile that Judy lobbed at him in indignation, cackling all the while. "You are disgusting!"

"Hey, I wasn't the one doing the biting!" The fox was grinning widely, inwardly delighted that his diversionary tactic had worked. He didn't think she was ready to deal with the guilt of wrecking his arm just yet. He honestly didn't blame her for it, but who knew if she would see it that way? The Judy he knew would just insist on relentlessly fussing and mothering him while dealing with her own terrible remorse, something she wasn't yet strong enough to be capable of. So he decided to distract her and maybe mess with her a little. Her eyes positively glowed with lilac fire whenever she was spitting mad, something he found more captivating than he'd ever let on.

Nick figured that an occasionally-aggressive Judy couldn't that bad. With that dangerous streak, she'd fit right in with the likes of predators such as himself and Finnick. It just upped the stakes of his teasing her was all. Not to mention that the charged look she'd been giving him earlier was rather exciting, in a way. Probably not the time to dwell on it, though, Nick thought as he dodged another pillow-missile.

She was discharged the next day with orders to rest and recuperate, and Nick told her about his arm the following week, after the bandages came off. His arm was scarred and riddled with stitches, and in some places his fur was threadbare following the abuse a certain rabid bunny had wreaked on him. Judy was, predictably, very much distraught over seeing his arm, and downright horrified when she learned that she was the one who did it, despite Nick's many assurances that he was fine and see, his fingers were working and he could still carry things like he used to. She'd been apologizing non-stop, even as he walked her back to her apartment, and he loved her, really, but it was getting a little old after 15 minutes, which, in his opinion, was 14 minutes too long.

"I'll make it up to you I promise I really promise!" The bunny was pulling at her ears. "I'm so, so sorry that was unacceptable of me-"

"I would have been more sorry if I were the savage one instead, Carrots." Nick was trying his damndest to be patient. "Could have been worse, in a lot of different ways. It's alright, really."

"But I did that to you!" Judy wailed. "I'm so sorry that must have hurt really bad I'm so-"

Nick was honestly done with listening to the same thing over and over. So he did the only thing he could. He stopped, picked her up, and kissed her full on the lips. Might as well take her up on her offer to make it up to him.

She quieted in surprise, much to his satisfaction. There. That was settled. Now maybe they could move on to the topic of her moving in with him.