Chapter Text
‘Oh, my sweet boy, what’s wrong?’ his mother cooed, lifting him off the ground and into her arms.
He tried to form a response, but all that came out were choked sobs, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
‘Hey, woah, can you look at me?’ she asked, gently tilting his head upward with her paw. ‘Good job, sweetie, you’re doing so good. Now, can you try breathing with me? Do you think you could be brave and do that for me?’
She placed a paw on her chest and began taking deep, exaggerated breaths.
He barely even registered the words, her face blurring through his tears. Her calm instructions unheard over the roar of blood in his ears.
As his body continued to tremble and his mind teetered on losing consciousness, he distantly felt his mother wrap him in an even tighter embrace.
Suddenly, both of her paws were on his, pressing them onto something. At first, all he could feel was the adrenaline coursing through his body, but eventually he recognized what he was touching.
It was his mother’s sweater, the one she always wore when she was having good days. Days where she would have the energy to smile and laugh out loud. Days where she would teach him how to fold paper cranes or make him help the manor’s staff clean.
Days where she could protect him from the rest of his family.
He always loved that sweater. It brought good memories of his mother and her shining green eyes, the exact same shade as the yarn used to knit it. She used to joke that green had always suited their family best. And when he would sit with her, tracing the zigzag pattern with the tip of his claw as she read him stories of far away lands and magic, he couldn't have agreed more.
He clung to it like a lifeline, focusing all of his energy onto the way the individual stitches felt under his paws. Only thinking of the bright memories it brought.
Once he began to calm down, finally able to draw a complete breath, he realized she was humming a song.
It was a soft tune, with airy high notes and low notes just deep enough to vibrate like a purr. He laid his head just underneath her chin, where he could almost feel the music.
His mother never stopped holding him, rocking gently and pressing soft kisses into the space between his ears.
He didn't know how long they had sat there on his bed. Didn't even know how they'd gotten to his room in the first place. But there, soaking in the comfort of his mother’s quiet reassurances, he found he didn't have the energy to hold his eyes open long enough to care.
“--Gazelle’s sake– PAWBERT!”
Pawbert jolted awake at the shout, launching himself off his cot so fast he felt the world tilt around him.
He shook his head, trying to focus his eyes. When the room finally stopped spinning, he found Kitty and Cattrick standing in front of him.
“Well would you look at that! The runt lives!” Cattrick remarked with a cheshire grin, flicking him between the eyes just hard enough to sting.
“Yeah, if you couldn't already tell by the incessant mumbling,” Kitty sniffed, smoothing her prison jumpsuit and eyeing him with contempt. “It’s a wonder how you manage to make a fool of yourself, even in your sleep.”
He felt his ears fall backwards a little at that, but he managed to keep them mostly upright. Looking around the room for something else to say, he finally noticed the lack of a fourth presence in the cell with them.
“Where’s Dad?” he asked, turning to Cattrick.
“Dunno. He was gone before I woke up.” He shrugged, picking a piece of lint off his shoulder and scowling at it like it had personally offended him. It was no use, really. Everything in this prison was dirty, making it virtually impossible to keep anything clean. And yet his siblings and father still fussed over their appearances as though they still had anyone to impress.
Pawbert hadn't really bothered with his appearance since being locked up, not that he had really looked in the mirror much before all this. Looking down at his own jumpsuit, he winced at how awful it looked. The obnoxious orange that it had once been was now dull with dirt and dust. Maybe he should ask the guards for a new one? No, that was absolutely out of the question. Did it even matter all that much? It would never even compare to the comfort of his sweater, so why–
“Honestly, am I the only competent one around here?” Kitty sighed to herself, plopping down onto her cot dramatically.
Cattrick whipped around to face her, his nose scrunching into a snarl almost immediately. “You wanna run that back for me Kits?”
“Goodness! My sincerest apologies, I hadn't realized your brain is too clogged with all that catnip for you to comprehend a simple sentence! Here, let me spell it out for you.” Kitty stood, stalking towards her twin, her expression perfectly pleasant. “You. Are. An. Idiot.” She spoke slowly and deliberately, punctuating each word with a sharp jab to his chest with her claw.
The room fell silent after she’d finished, the air crackling with tension like a live wire. From how close he was standing, Pawbert could see the anger in his siblings growing. Could see the way Kitty planted herself firmly in place, the glint in her eyes almost challenging. The way Cattrick’s paws clenched and unclenched by his sides, the barest hint of his claws pressing into his palms.
A low warning sound built in Cattrick’s throat, rising to meet Pawbert’s ears. The sound of it alone set his teeth on edge, the fur along his spine rising and his ears flattening against his head. He took a step back, pupils dilating in fear.
This would not be pretty.
Cattrick’s tail lashed once, twice, three times. But before Pawbert had the chance to say something to try and diffuse the situation, they launched into a full-blown screaming match, circling each other with their teeth bared and their fur bristling.
The insults they hurled at each other quickly became incomprehensible, devolving into screeches and yowls that bounced off the walls of the cell and echoed harshly around the cramped space.
Pawbert glanced down the corridor outside, wincing at how many glares were aimed their way. He did his best to ignore them as he scanned the area. With how loud those two were being, there was no way someone wouldn’t come to shut them up. And when they did, there was no telling what the punishment would be. At the far end of the hall, an officer rounded the corner, swiftly approaching.
Uh oh. Not good.
Backing away from the cell door quickly, he attempted to get his siblings’ attention.
“Hey, uh… guys?” he called, voice coming out shaky with nerves.
“What!?” Their heads whipped around as they shouted in unison.
“There’s a guard coming!”
As if a switch had been flipped, the twins straightened their posture and wiped the anger from their faces. By the time the guard reached their cell, they looked as though they hadn’t just been screaming at each other.
The guard, a large rhinoceros with tired eyes, simply unlocked the door and looked around.
“Aren’t there four of ya?” he asked gruffly, gesturing towards the three Lynx standing in front of him.
Kitty gave a small nod, her hands clasped in front of her in perfect politeness. “Yes, but our father informed me that he would be in a meeting with our attorney for the majority of the day. I’m sure he’ll be back sometime later if you–”
“Not necessary,” the officer cut her off, raising a hand to halt her speech. She gave a small, almost imperceptible frown at that, but her composure remained. Cattrick shot her a sharp look, clearly still bitter about their previous argument. “I’m not here to speak with him.”
Cattrick spoke next.
“Well then, er, I’m afraid we won’t be much help. You see, our father is the one who–”
“I’m not here to speak with you either,” he interrupted again, this time causing Cattrick to visibly bristle in frustration. “I’m here for him.”
The officer turned towards Pawbert, pointing one stubby finger in his direction.
“Wha– wait, me?” he spluttered, confusion etched on his face. “What’s going on? Why would you possibly need me–”
“No questions. Just come with me.”
Not knowing how else to respond, Pawbert simply shut his mouth and allowed the rhino to clasp a pair of handcuffs around his wrists and lead him out of the cell.
As he stepped into the hallway to a cacophony of jeers and insults from the other inmates he glanced over his shoulder, eyes landing on Kitty and Cattrick standing side by side in the middle of the cell, dumbfounded. The looks on their faces would have almost been funny, if it weren’t for the suspicious glares they fixed him with once their eyes met. He gulped and swiftly turned back around, following behind the officer as quickly as possible as he was practically dragged away by the cuffs.
“Thank you all for your hard work today! Make sure you get some rest and take care of yourselves! I’ll see you next Thursday!” Dr. Fuzzby called, waving goodbye as her clients slowly filed out of the room, only letting her hand drop once the door had clicked shut behind the last one. She hopped off her stool, humming softly to herself as she began puttering around the room, gathering any loose trash or paper that had been forgotten.
She had been noticing quite the positive change in her clients’ progress as of late. Perhaps, she wondered, it had something to do with the recent influx in acceptance for interspecies partnerships? There had always been some level of wariness around the subject, what with the difference in instincts and the entire Bellwether fiasco.
Just thinking of that name sent a shiver up her spine. Being a legal psychologist with a positive track record with the Zootopia Police Department, she’d been assigned to conduct an evaluation of the former assistant mayor to determine if she was fit to stand trial. The sheep had spent the entirety of their two hour session weaving her own wool through her hooves, pointedly refusing to answer any questions Dr. Fuzzby had asked. The entire experience was so strange she had to wonder how Bellwether had ever been deemed fit for such a high-ranking position.
Honestly, the whole thing just solidified in her mind how amazing of an officer Judy Hopps was. To face that kind of evil and come out of it smiling so brightly? It was incredible. And now she’d done it again, not even two weeks after the Bellwether scandal.
She sighed and sat down at her desk, which sat on top of the larger one in the room, flipping her notebook back to the first notes she had made during this week’s session. She had a habit of writing her notes by hand and waiting to digitize them afterwards. Writing things down with a pen or pencil just helped her think. And the clacking of a keyboard was much too loud for the kind of subtlety required for taking notes about a client directly in front of them.
Mid-way through typing up a note about Officer Carla needing additional sessions to address some more personal issues, her desk phone began to ring.
Not taking her eyes off her computer screen, she reached over and grabbed the phone, pressing it between her ear and her shoulder as she continued typing.
“Hello, this is Dr. Fuzzby speaking, how may I help you?” she spoke into the phone’s receiver.
“Hi Dr. Fuzzby, it’s Judy! Sorry if I’m interrupting something.” The voice on the other end made her paws halt on the keyboard, an amused smile spreading across her face.
“Officer Hopps, didn’t I tell you that you can call me on my personal phone?” she teased, leaning back in her chair. She’d given Officers Hopps and Wilde her personal phone number a few weeks prior, after they’d become good friends.
“Well, yeah, but you’re working right now! I figured it would be more professional to call the proper way! Besides, it’s super important! See, I have a favor to ask of you, and it’s totally fine if you don't want to, it’s just that it would really mean a lot to me and I–” her rambling was cut off with a few seconds of rustling.
“Hello? Is this thing still on?” A new voice spoke through the receiver, noticeably quieter and more hesitant than Judy. It took her a few seconds to place where she’d heard the voice before.
“Ah, Mr. De’Snake! It's a pleasure to speak with you,” she began, a little confused at the situation, “I’m assuming this important business has something to do with you as well?”
“Yes. What Judy was trying to say is that we have a big favor to ask of you. I don't think it would be good to explain it over the phone though…. Maybe we could meet for lunch?” Gary explained, sounding a little unsure.
“Well, I believe I’m open tomorrow at three. How does that sound?” She was becoming quite curious as to what this favor was. What could be so important that they couldn't discuss over the phone?
After some brief planning and a firm lecture from Dr. Fuzzby to relax after the latest fiasco Officer Hopps had gotten herself into, they bid each other farewell.
That had been three weeks ago.
Now here she is, sitting behind a screen of reinforced glass and waiting for her newest client, who just so happened to be the attempted murderer who had attacked Officers Hopps and Wilde themselves, to walk through the door on the other side. She’d dealt with mammals five times her size on charges much worse, but she had to wonder what mess she’d agreed to entangle herself in.