Olivia Otterton had been told her whole life she was too kind for her own good. She forgave quickly and easily, never holding ill thoughts or a grudge towards even the worst of mammals. She knew that no matter the crime, the animal behind it was still an animal, and most likely only acted out because life had been cruel to them. 'Who am I to judge?' was practically her life motto, and she lived by it, offering kindness and understanding to everyone she met.

So when the Savage Mammal case was cracked and Emmet brought back to her, she was quick to put Ex-Mayor Bellwether out of her mind, forgiving and forgetting almost instantly. She was just thankful to have her husband back, and happy that the other afflicted animals had in turn been returned to their senses and lives.

All but one, anyway. Everyone had heard what had happened to Judy Hopps, how Nick Wilde been forced to turn savage by the ex-mayor and had killed his friend. The word was he wouldn't be charged with anything, since like the other predators he had little to no memory of his actions and wasn't in his right mind, but the news outlets weren't taking it so lightly. After all he was the only predator to actually kill someone. As a result he was under 24/7 guard(for his protection) and was being kept in the hospital until they were absolutely sure he was ok.

Olivia felt horrible for him. She could only imagine the pain he must be suffering, and with a bit of prodding the cops that frequented his room she found that he had no friends or family to speak of. So when she found out he was being roomed a few doors down from her husband, well, she felt that she had only one option. He needed someone, and seeing as he was part of the reason she had her family back, she figured it was her duty to give what help she could.

Armed with home cooked food and her limitless kindness she marched down the hall and knocked on Nick's door.

Nick was no stranger to pain. He could list dozens of times where he truly felt like his life had gone to shit, the junior ranger incident, his father leaving, his mother's death, those first years in foster care, his first year on the streets. Each time had been hell, and he had always thought that this was it, he was never going to be happy again, his life was over.

Finding out that he had killed Judy blew them all away.

Before he met her he had convinced himself that he was ok. He didnt mind a life that went no where, having no real home, regularly breaking the law, his only friend being a guy he hardly knew and only hung out with him out of necessity. He was in as good a place as he could be, and he was fine with that.

Judy had changed everything. She burst into his life spewing optimism and joy and love, things he hadn't let himself feel in years. In a two short days she completely flipped his worldview, helped him see that he could get more out of life, he could find happiness, that he had a future. Even though he had been through so much worse in his life, the weeks after their fight were some of the hardest of his life. She was like a drug, and he felt her loss like a wound. Her coming back had been more than he could have hoped for. He had tried to stay mad at her, but he couldn't, not with her sweet voice and tear filled apologies. He remembered briefly wondering how he had let one little bunny worm her way so deep in his heart.

It was hard to believe that he would never see her again.

Chief Bogo had talked to him personally after he recovered. He was almost embarrassed of how he acted when he heard what had happened. He didnt want to believe it, had called Bogo a liar, but his own shattered memory supplied all the proof he needed. The pain and fear, his worry for Judy flaring before being lost to the all consuming rage. He could hardly think about it without feeling like he was going to puke(he nearly had when he got his memories sorted out). He didnt think he would ever get the taste of her blood out of his mouth.

He tried his best not to but he had broken down, every one of his walls shattering. He hadn't cried like that since he was a kit. Bogo was understanding, patting him on the back in an attempt at comfort, but Nick was too far gone. He didnt deserve comfort or kindness, not after what he had done. Bogo liked to remind him that it wasn't his fault, but he didnt care. He was a stupid, savage predator. He was a fool to think he ever could have been more.

He spent his days staring at the ceiling, too numb to even think. He watched the news when he could stomach it, but between the coverage of Judy's funeral and the case and well, him, he was quick to shut it off. He would vaguely consider doing things, the cops and counselors that frequented his room brought him books and such, he got his phone back as well, but the very thought of activity exhausted him. It was all he could do to take showers and use the restroom, let alone eat.

He was kept under constant guard, was checked on almost every hour, and had to deal with inane meetings with psychiatrists and the like. He had a vague suspicion that he was on suicide watch and was sure they were convinced he was depressed, but he didn't care. When they talked he hardly listened, their optimistic chatter and insistence to hear how he was feeling were stupid at best and pissed him off more than they helped.

So when he heard a light knock on his door followed by a too-sweet voice asking if he was awake he didnt even bother looking up.

Whoever it was had said his name two or three times before he supposed he should answer. But when his eyes met the tiny otter gazing at him with kind eyes he was more than confused. She looked oddly familiar, and wasn't dressed like any of the hospital employees.

"Mr. Wilde? Can I call you Nick?"

He nodded. She gave him a small smile and walked up to his bed.

"I heard they were keeping you were here so I thought I would come visiting. I hope you don't mind. Oh my, where are my manners? Im Olivia Otteron, you helped find my husband, Emmet."

He eyed her suspiciously, trying to figure out what she wanted. He didn't get visitors, and he was sure they had never even met.

"Can I do something for you?" he said, not even bothering to try to hide the irritation in his voice.

"Oh no, I just brought you some food. Some sandwiches and fruit and such. Figured you could use it. I've seen the mush they serve here, not really what you need if you want to get your strength back."

Nick barely held back a sigh and rolled his eyes. Pity was the last thing he needed. He watched bitterly as she carefully set the food on his bedside table, before turning back to him with a smile.

"So", she continued casually, "How are you doing?"

Part of him may have once reasoned that she was just trying to be nice, and that he should at least pretend to appreciate it, but that part of him was long gone. So he simply ignored her. It was a stupid question anyway. She patiently waited for his answer, the silence stretching awkwardly while she gazed at him expectantly. When it was clear he wasn't going to answer she let out a little sound nodded.

"Don't much feel like talking, huh.?"

He gave her a withering look.

"Well, that's fine. My mother always said I could talk enough for a whole romp of otters." And talk she did. She tittered on about her family, her babies and her life, the weather. Nick let his head fall back, groaning. He prayed that if he just ignored her or pretend to be asleep she might leave. But she carried on, oblivious to his indifference. By the time she started on a tv show she liked, he found himself starting to wonder if maybe he did die, and this was just some special personal hell, and decided that enough was enough.

"Ok, ma'am?" She stopped, looking surprised. "I really appreciate what you're trying to do here, really nice of you and everything, but I don't need your pity, and I don't want your help. So, if you could kindly see yourself to the door I have some very important brooding to get back to. Ok, thank you, goodbye."

She looked at him oddly then, and he found himself shrinking under her gaze. She seemed like she was looking right through him, and he found that extremely unsettling.

"That's fair, I suppose. A bit rude of me to just assume you'd want company." She gave him another one of her knowing looks before continuing, "But as far as I've heard you've just been sitting here with your misery for days. You don't want to talk, you don't want help, you don't want friends...so, if you don't mind me asking...is there anything you do want?"

'I want Judy back.' his mind supplied, and he crushed it down before giving her a weak glare and answering, "Nothing you can give."

He turned away then, choosing to stare uselessly at the curtained window, refusing to look up until long after he was sure she was gone.