Authors notes: I'd like to thank my Proof-reader, UltimateBlack, who helped to polish this Fic up.

This Fic is a prequel to my latest Fic, Coming to reward them, which I've just started to release. I've already put a lot of work into it, and while I'm trying a lot of new things that may/ may not work, it should be good.

Coming to reward them will be an AU to my previous story, Zootopia: the Original Plot. To understand both this Fic and this prequel, I strongly advise that you read the first 9 chapters of ZTOP. That way the point at which this universe and the ZTOP universe diverge should become very clear (and at the same time very tragic).

In terms of the experimenting thing for 'Coming to Reward them,' a key part of that is inspired by the non-linear story of 'Zootopia: Death becomes you' by DarkflameWolf where the same plot line is told from three separate time periods sequentially (before, during and after the disaster). For my story, there is going to be a past plotline told in first person (inspired by Jacato's epic, Fallen: The lost Story of Zootopia) as well as a present story, told in both my standard 3rd person as well as a more unique diary format that I wanted to try.

All of those formats will be showcased in the Fic below, as a sort of trial run. While reading through, see if you can pick up any of the references (to other Fan-fic's, or IRL stuff).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. And remember, try everything.

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You know, I'd sooner forget, but I remember those nights
When life was just a bet on a race between the lights
You had your head on my shoulder, you had your hand in my hair
Now you act a little colder, like you don't seem to care,

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But believe in me, baby, and I'll take you away
From out of this darkness and into the day
From these rivers of headlights, these rivers of rain
From the anger that lives on the streets with these names
'Cause I've run every red light on memory lane
I've seen desperation explode into flames
And I don't want to see it again…

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1st March, 1993.

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It's funny, in a way. I've been thinking again (something which Marie always chides me for doing too much of), and I've realised why I'm doing this.

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Passion…

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I think I've worked out what it is. What it does. What sets it apart from everything else. You cannot set out to create passion, or teach yourself the rules of it. It just comes to you, it's something so powerful and grand that you stop thinking about it and just live it. You live it and experience it and, in that one moment, it is your whole life. There is no more past, or future, or doubt or thought. Just passion, surging through your whole body and taking over.

I love my music, I love relaxing as it comes on and listening to the lyrics and 'chewing' them as I dissect them for meaning. But I don't feel passion for them. I appreciate them deeply, I relax and take them in, but I don't live them. The rhythm and my pulse doesn't become the same, nor are the occasional errant thoughts banished from my mind. If I felt passion for them, they would become my whole world at that point, and any criticism or attack of it, however valid or true, would bounce off of me like a football off a wall.

Passion is letting your deeper feelings take over, it's letting you race and run and fly with your favourite heroes, letting their adrenaline course through your blood. Watching them fight and fight the same battle over and over, cheering them on valiantly and letting the music fire up your body, all while banishing the knowledge that just seconds from now, their victory will be torn from them and replaced with defeat just like you've seen so many times before. It's knowing a story and the characters in it, it's knowing the injustices they face and fantasising about ways to go in and fix it. How to make it so the pain never happened. Or how to run in and save the hero before he's taken. Or how to go in there yourself, and be their own hero. It consumes your thought throughout the day, you obsess over it. Nothing, however much you try, can stop it filtering through to you again.

That is passion…

You can survive without it for sure, 99% of the time you can be happy by letting your brain and thoughts and logic control you. You can be content with reason, with the way things are. But that 1%...

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…Oh that 1%. It's… It's…

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Words cannot describe it. That 1%, it's what life is truly about. It's what defines it. To say it's the cream de la cream of life isn't doing it justice. That's tangible, this is something else. I'd say it's like an orgasm at the end of sex, but it kind of ruins the mood of this whole diary entry… Oh what the hell, Marie's always saying that I'm too sentimental, too romantic, I'll just make do and mend. As I wrote before, you can't teach passion. You can teach someone to write or sing or paint something good. Something which is very good, great even. Something which ticks every little box and does everything right. Something which should be the best of the best. And then you look at something else, something which is that next level, and the previously great thing pales in comparison. Your body shakes and twitches or full up explodes in excitement, pent up energy releasing in pure passion, and you scream Hallelujah knowing that nothing can ever top this, or take away from this moment (not that you would have the time to know that at the time).

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Passion. It's what makes life.

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And I guess that's why I'm doing what I'm doing…

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Because I want to live.

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I love my wife, I love her with my heart and my body and I can list a thousand reasons why. I'd sacrifice myself in an instant to save her life, and I feel warm inside when I see her happy or cold when I see her sad. No other girl out there could ever match her loveliness, or the gentle caring look in her green eyes. She is my soulmate. But I asked myself earlier, when was the last time I was passionate for her? When was the last time she consumed me, when she was my entire life and being? When the whole world vanished, just leaving her…

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Never…

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Not once…

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Because every time, every god-damn time it begins to grow. Every time it begins to flutter. EVERY DAMN TIME! My Collar, that fucking plastic noose strangling me, orange right now as I write this, steps in to warn me. To stop me. To say that I'm being a savage, a primitive, and that if I don't step back I deserve a session of torture. It doesn't let me feel passion, just a slight teasing inkling of what it could be, then I'm dragged back into this mockery of life.

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I want to live. I want to take my wife, my precious vixen, my sweet Marie in my hands and love her and kiss her and let her consume me. I want us to make love and become one again, and live in the pleasure as we knot ourselves together into one, rather than having to stay back and keep ourselves calm throughout. I don't want to have to keep my mind always on my collar, I don't want to have to have all the glorious moments of life tainted by the fear of pain. I want to whoop and holler and scream to exciting music and play with my son!

MY SON!

My precious Kit who's always polite and friendly and trying to be happy, for our sakes. My little boy who wants to sleep in baskets for the rest of his life and can't catch a wink of sleep in a normal bed. My Son with his goofy little smile where his cute little snaggletooth peeks out! Who's always looking out for me and trying to think of ways to make me smile, and who loves me more than any other mammal does on this earth. My little Nick who calls me Daddy normally, but when he's excited or worried for me or wants to make me better calls me Paps… I want to stop holding back each and every time I play with him, or stop having to warn him if he's getting too happy! I want to be the Dad I've always wanted to be! I WANT TO SEE HIM HAPPY AND FREE! I WANT TO TEAR OFF HIS COLLAR, SO HE CANNnnnNNnNNNnnNNn…..

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… Yeh, Passion…

Apparently, I was feeling too much of it there… Yet another A grade diary entry ruined, that's for sure… I better sign off, Marie-Anne heard it.

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I closed my diary up and slotted it into its cubby hole as my Marie made her way in. As she did, the sound of the hinges of our bedroom door creaked, pricking my ears, and I turned to face her.

"Is Nick asleep…?"

A faint smile grew across her delicate muzzle as she faintly chuckled, her eyes become shifty as she looked at me with that look she used when I had something up my sleeve.

"Nice deflection there."

"I do what I can," I reply, shrugging as I do. I know full well that she can read me like a book, there is no secret that I can keep from her and nothing about me that doesn't concern her.

"What got you worked up this time?"

"I was writing in my Diary," I reply, truthfully. "Writing about passion, and why we're doing this, and…"

I was silenced as she slammed into me, her arms hugging me tight as she pulled us down onto the soft bed, our tails behind us and already wrapping themselves up in each's others. Feeling her comfort me, her softness and warmth combining with her deep musky scent, any thoughts of finishing my little speech quickly vanished. At first I thought that she was going to comfort me, but as her muzzle dove under mine and wiggled into position, I saw the tears begin to form in her eyes.

"Marie," I immediately say, any worry about myself washed away in an instant as I grab her tighter and tighter, already beginning to feel the sobs rack her delicate body. "What's wrong… what's wrong dear. Please… Don't cry, you know what happens when you cry…"

"It's Honey," was all she could manage, before my own tears began to form. "Chloe said… she said that those Bullies tried to scruff her…"

Before she could continue I pulled her tighter, wrapping my arms around her soft head gently as I tried to stop her speaking. I knew everything that she felt, and wanted to save us both from more pain. Sweet, sweet Honey. Marie's Goddaughter, that poor little Honey Badger who struggled to cope with how the world worked. She would have struggled even without the collar, but it combined with those bullies… It didn't matter how many times people told the teachers, how many times the little girl was left bruised on the floor, racked by electric spasms. Nothing was done. Nothing was ever done!

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I paused for a moment, a well learned instinct kicking in as I peeked down at the orange glow of my collar. I banished the painful thoughts, I looked away from my wife and focussed on the ceiling. I breathed in and out. In and out. Slow and steady, letting my heart calm down and the wisps of passion drain from me…

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Funny thing about passion, even the vaguest taste. Most of the time you only recognised it when looking back.

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"Honey badgers don't even have a scruff…"

My ears pricked as I heard Marie talking again, her soft voice barely more than a whisper between the sobs as it let slip her thoughts.

"It must have hurt like… but I guess it shouldn't be nearly as bad as if it were you or I or…"

Zip…

The shock pinched her hard, making her hunker down in fear and softly yip in pain. Her ears down and eyes welded shut, my own opened wide as I cradled her head in my arms. My claws out, I began rubbing and fussing with the top of her head, working my way down to the scalp and scratching and kneading it as I tried to work the pain out of her.

She didn't seem any better.

I cocked my head to my side and opened my muzzle, letting my long tongue roll out before I began dragging it across her, letting it's coarse top preen and groom her soft fur.

This time a small smile grew on her snout, as her eyes opened revealing the emerald irises beneath.

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"She'll be coming with us," was all I could say. "The Badgers, The Clawhausers, the Ibn-Zerdains… and so many more. We're so close."

Her smile grew, and her heart warmed, as I continued. "You know how hard I've worked. Everyone is ready for when I send the signal out. Everyone knows what they need to get and do. The Boat, the digger, and all the big stuff is already ready or lined up. Tomorrow, I'll be contacting a Pred-sympathiser who says that he can get us some collar keys. That's the last part of the puzzle honey. Hold on, we're so close. Believe in me, we'll leave this city and settle on an island far away. We'll be free."

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Before I knew it, her head was level with mine and cocked to the side as her muzzle parted. Mine did too and we embraced, letting our tongues dive into each other's mouths and lick and rub and twist and knot together, the grating of her coarse tongue on the roof of my mouth sending shivers down my spine and to the tip of my tail. I tugged her closer and she did back to me, both our claws out and pricking each other as our teeth began to nip. I loved her, I loved her so much and she was mine and…

"EW…!"

Our embrace was torn apart as we looked to the door, spotting Nick's little head poking in. A gentle warmness slowly spreading through me, I smiled and stood up, making my way over to the door.

"Didn't I ever teach you about knocking?"

His eyes widened slightly and he looked away bashfully, one of his hindpaws fussing with the ground as he mumbled a quiet "sorry…" Looking back up, stilling fussing with that paw, he gave a meek smile. The cuteness was more than enough of an apology, even before my eyes spotted his goofy lil' snaggletooth, my heart melting in response. I couldn't help but chuckle. He was milking it, the show off.

"Come on Slick," I replied back warmly as I held out my hand, letting him take hold of it. As I led him out into the corridor, walking towards his room, I realised that if I were a prey mammal, I'd be angry. For that moment, Marie had been my whole world, all consuming. My son had interrupted that passion, and I should be annoyed. But, when the little Tod had balked at the icky kissing in front of him, he'd gotten through to me far better than a pair of collars going to orange had, and far more nicely than a pair or red ones were going too.

If I was going to be denied passion, this was likely the best way that there was.

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It was early the next morning when John had to meet up with his informant. Quietly saying goodbye to his Wife and giving his son a quick hug, he left his store and caught the rusting streetcar that ran past every now and again, trying to keep up to some semblance of a timetable.

Like always, the interior was worn and dusty, graffiti scrawled across the walls and the odd scruffy Predator silently sitting by themselves. Courteously joining them in their silence, the older Fox took the time to check over his appearance. His suit was freshly cleaned and crisp, not an errant stitch of piece of fluff on it. A black bowtie was fastened under his shirt collar, rather than his usual tie, while even his tame collar had received a clean and a polish, the green light on it shining out brightly compared to the dull ones of his travel companions. Whether he liked it or not, and he most certainly did not, he'd long ago decided that he might as well make the most of it.

As the streetcar trundled along, slowly entering better kept neighbourhoods and the presence of cleaner and better kept cars and trams, the Todd turned his attention to his arm fur and nervously brushed and cleaned it both with his comb and, when it wouldn't stay down, his teeth and tongue. All through this, a nervous pit in his stomach grew. Getting access to a collar key was the most important part of his entire plan, there was no point in going forward with any other part if they didn't.

Sure, they could try and just tear the things off, but they were known to kill Preds who tried to do so. Even if they did survive, they would need to return to Zootopia on occasion, picking up supplies and other families to join them. Trying to do so without a collar would be impossible.

At the same time, the simple thought of how they treated Preds who dared to try and steal a key sent a terrible shiver down his spine. Classified as agents of terror and locked away in a jail cell for life with no visitation rights, lest they give further orders to their field agents. It was enough to raise the fur on his back and warm up his collar.

Glancing up, and spotting his stop just ahead, John pressed the halt button and practically leapt out onto the pavement before giving the driver a quick wave and carrying on his way. It wasn't far to the café where the sympathiser was planning to meet up, but while he wasn't running late he wasn't going to be early as well.

This meant that, as he turned a corner and halted, he ran into quite a dilemma. Practically rooting his claws into the floor, he raised his muzzle up high and began sniffing deeply, the rich smell of blueberry pie taking hold of him. With each deep inhale, the mouth-watering scent of the fresh fruit, sugar, butter pasty and all other sorts of spices added to the blend sent shivers down his spine and to the tip of his tail.

Even his collar registered his interest, beeping as it shone out orange, evidently worried that it was some bunny kit that he was salivating about rather than a pie. Lowering his muzzle down, John checked his watch and began tapping his claws on the floor, debating whether to be late or ignore the calling. Ending the debate, he fished into his pocket and held up a coin, deftly tossing it and catching it in his palm.

"Heads, pie…" he announced as he flipped the coin onto the back of his other paw, revealing a Rams head staring back up at him.

"I suppose I can get him a slice…" he muttered as he let his nose lead him to the calling pastry.

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The slight detour took John five minutes or so, but by god was it worth it. The slice of pie had tasted like a piece of heaven, the hot and sweet filling contrasting the cool clotted cream perfectly. It was almost too good, with the first taste ruined by a rather rude zip of his collar. While somewhat sullied, the rest of the Pie had gone down without incident and his mouth practically watered at the thought of another slice, the overpowering scent coming from the small box he was carrying not helping. Fighting back the urge to devour it like a pig at a buffet, John stood up straight and carried on towards the informant. At the very least, this pie would easily apologise for his tardiness.

Turning the corner, the Fox spotted the Café in question, before stopping dead in his tracks. His tail and ears drooping, he let his head cock to the side sharply as he set his eyes on the back of the mammal he was supposed to be meeting. He was still there, but standing up and talking to no-one, a hoof in his ears. The shock took a while to clear, but looking on John realised that this wasn't an informant at all. It was an undercover operative, trying to catch out any Pred 'terrorists' after a collar key. While he was still occupied by the call, the Fox hunkered down and briskly walked up to the edge of the Café seating, staring at the antelope in question in greater detail. It didn't take long to spot the tell-tale lead running under his shirt towards his trousers, and the outline of a concealed tranquiliser gun. Gulping, the Fox turned sharply on his heels and almost ran away, his collar orange with worry as he tried to put as much distance between him and the agent as possible.

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Ring Ring, Ring Ring…

The sound of the phone on the other end was quickly replaced with the clicking sound of the receiver being picked up, and a deep voice barking out in response on the other end.

"WHAT?"

"Good to get the familiar greeting Khalid," John replied, a short smile on his muzzle as he talked.

"… Yeh, you know it. What's your deal this time?"

The red fox sighed deeply, before carrying on in a tired, wearing voice. "I almost got caught…"

There was a pause, the other end of the line completely silent. John waited for a second or two, before carrying on. "The informant, he was an undercover agent…"

"I see…"

"I was running a bit late, I spotted him talking to a handler via a secret phone. Realising something was wrong… I sneaked up close to him and spotted his recording wire. Then I hightailed it out of there before he even got to spot me."

"So, it's good man! Praise Aslan, your natural Foxy instincts got you out of it!"

This time it was John who was silent, resting his muzzle on his paws until the Fennec on the other side carefully spoke.

"John…?"

"It wasn't my 'Foxy instincts!" the Red fox replied, his voice sudden tainted with a hint of anger as his collar went orange. "I WAS LUCKY! If I didn't smell blueberry pie and toss a head when deciding if I would buy it or not, I wouldn't know. We'd discuss the plan, I'd incriminate myself… I'D HAVE GODDAMN PUT MARIE AWAY AS WELL…"

"STOP IT JOHN!" the voice on the other line fiercely barked, his voice accompanied by a harsh beep. It was too late, however, as a second beep came from John's side as his collar turned up to red.

On the other side, Khalid Ibn-Zerdain grimaced as he heard the vicious ZAP on the other side, accompanied by the half groan/ half scream of John riding through his reminder to be nice. A pregnant pause followed before the deep voice of the Fennec continued. "Yes, you got lucky. But there's no point in thinking over it and red-lighting yourself… again. It's over, you didn't screw up and you're safe. Besides, you need to stop thinking so much, although considering how much your wife has already told you to do that, I don't think I can help much…"

"Okay… Thanks for trying to stop me." John wearily replied, before a sudden thought caused him to raise an eyebrow and sharply tilt his head. "How do you know Marie says that?"

"Cheri' said so." The red fox groaned at the answer, his eyes rolling as the deeper voice continued talking. "I told you I picked a clever one…"

"She was a belly dancer you wooed at a nightclub," John sharply interrupted, although his eyes widened with worry as he heard a muted growl and a beep on the other end of the line.

"I'll have you know that my Cherifa is a beautiful! Intelligent! Stimulating woman! In more ways than one mind you, who makes the world's best Scorpion Tagine…"

"I'm not arguing about that last part…"John interrupted, only for Khalid to interrupt him back.

"UT UT UT… don't interrupt me. But I'm warning you, if you EVER sully her honour, collar or not your face and my teeth are going to have an interesting meeting…" John smiled slightly at the last part, as he rolled his eyes and paid half interest to the rest of the lecture. "… tail flying high on a flag pole. Anyway, you get the idea… although you are right about belly dancer, club and wooing bit… But it's irrelevant, okay!"

"Okay… By the way, does Finn' want to come over on a playdate with Nick tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, he's been practically begging… Anyway, you okay now?"

"Yes," John replied, before his lips twitched with thought. "Mr Zerdain?"

"…What?"

"You know I make fun of your old customs and stuff, keeping your peoples language and religion alive and all that…"

"Are Sloths slow?"

"Yeh, yeh, stupid question. But I want you to know, I respect you. I really do. You know, I try and keep some of the red Fox customs alive, firekeeping and such…"

"… Never heard of it."

"But it's so weak, so bled dry by the hate and the ignorance and the collars…"

"You realise you're preaching to the choir here?"

"Yes I do… but… Well, in some ways I envy you. I envy your courage and dedication, how you aim to never let go of your species history and religion, even as the rest of the city tries to wear it down. If… No, when we get to our new island, I plan to try and bring back all the old red Fox customs. I've got books and stuff for other species as well, some have really deep cultures, or even just the odd festival or sport, which have been forgotten. I want us to take back our culture, but without meeting you I wouldn't know that I wanted it at all…"

"… Man, that's some deep stuff for Saturday night. I'm not imagining the fact that you actually complemented me, am I?"

"…No."

"Well, let me complement you too. It's been an honour John, a real honour from the heart, to know a mammal like you. If you were to go," Khalid said before pausing and then hurriedly adding, "Not that that's going to happen of course…"

"Of course…"

"But just know that I would I would look after your wife and child in a heartbeat, raising them as if they were your own out of my own honour and respect for you, and you know what…? I'd still think that I'd let you down someway at the end of that."

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Silence filled the room as John paused, taking in what he'd just heard. His collar had turned orange without him noticing and somehow, he knew that the Fennec Fox on the other side of the line was just the same.

"Thank you," he slowly said, "That means a lot… It really does."

"Well, don't get used to it. Anyway, you know the Ottertons…"

"Yeh…"

"Turns out that they're not as rosy and innocent as we thought."

"What do you mean?"

"Turns out they have an interesting friend or two, including a certain Rat."

"Carry on," John replied, his interest suddenly piqued. Rats, bats and even shrews were voracious insect eaters. When he was young, a new micro collar was developed for them, although a public outcry meant the plan was quickly buried and forgotten. Never the less, those groups had always been a stalwart of the anti-collar movements, contrasting funnily with the massive Buffalo's, Rhino's, Hippo's and Elephants who tended to be almost all pro. While still shaken from his previous experience, John was certainly interested in where this was going.

"Apparently, he's a professional thief for hire and former subscriber to the Collardarity party. Don't know his real name, but I've heard his alias quite often."

"What is it?"

"Tattletail…"

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10th March, 1993.

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It's happening.

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Oh sweet mother Marian it's actually happening…

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That rat… no, Water Vole thief, Tattletale, actually got us some keys! I'm struggling not to red light at the moment but now, finally, we're going forward. We're going to leave this stinking garbage heap of a city and RUN!

Now, things are going to get a bit busy from now on. So I'll note everything down just in case I need a quick reminder later on.

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The plan is to evacuate 30 Predator families, about 150 mammals in total, from Zootopia on a converted fishing boat. While our home continent is well populated, the only island that was ever truly colonised was Outback. Once you're out in the deep ocean, no animals have ever had the desire to travel far from the shore. The closest you can get were the Albatross navigators from Avaria who surveyed plenty of islands, but at most set up some fishing colonies or something, most of them long since abandoned.

One of said navigators, an Albatross by the name of Captain James Rook, surveyed a decent sized group of islands about 4 days east of Zootopia in the 18th Century. About the size of Deerbrook, Bunnyburrow and the Tri-burrows combined. He called them 'The Dovey islands' and that's where we're going.

The boat's owner has already quadrupled the fuel tanks, letting us safely reach there and come back. But once we get there, it'll take months for us to get housing and food up and going. That's why everyone involved will be busy for the next week or so. Emptying their accounts and selling everything they don't need for as much as they can get, all to fill in their lists.

Dried or canned food will be vital to start off with, while dry spices and stuff will be important in the long term, and everyone will be buying their part of the share. But it won't be long till we'll need to catch, farm and fish our own. Marie looked into that, and everyone has a list of seeds they need to buy, along with fishing and farming equipment. We'll also have some flat-pack greenhouses, along with bushes and trees ready to plant. Seeing as they're butchers, the Ibn-Zerdain's will be in charge of live bugs. Chloe Badger is going to buy as much off the counter medical equipment as she can until the last day, when she'll take the prescription stuff from the pharmacy she works at. As for myself, I'll be grabbing a whole load more clothing supplies to take with us. I'm not setting up a naturalist camp, am I?

Construction materials? Bricks, cement, acrylic for windows and all the tools (power or otherwise) we need are easy. Part of everyone's list, to avoid suspicion. It's larger stuff, like the diggers we'll need that are going to be hard. They're expensive, big and they'll show up like a red flag. The Prey see that and realise that somethings up, they might catch us with the collar keys before we leave. Even if we do leave, what if they overreact and nip us in the bud?

I wouldn't put it past them…

Thankfully one of our guys is this hulking Alpha Wolf who worked on a construction site. From the way, they treated him, he's more than happy to 'discretely relocate' what we need. He's coming with us, and will be our chief architect and planner guy.

He says he's read some books and stuff.

I'm sure he has…

I hope he has…

He might have?

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Anyway, there are so many other things that are needed, and it seemed like every day someone comes up with a thing we've missed. I mean, early today I called up everyone to remind them to bring all their cooking equipment with them. Once we leave, it could be years before we return (and if our ship suffers a fault… it doesn't bear thinking about).

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… Good. It seems like worrying about all the little things have calmed me down a bit. The things we do to dodge a zap. Heh…

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Well, we've all got some nice library cards, just like everyone else, and when Nick gets back from school we'll be going in and withdrawing as many books as we can, fiction and non-fiction. We've already raided half the second-hand bookstores in the city as well, don't want to be getting bored, do we?

Thinking back now, when I told my sweet little Nick that we were actually doing it. That we were leaving Zootopia and the collars behind… His face lighting up reminded me just why I was doing it. The sparkle in his eyes, it reminded me of what they were like it back before he got his collar. He had a massive grin on his face and how he was hopping up and down on his pads at the news.

And through all of that, this horrible sense that he was still holding back. Still bottling up all that he could be, trying to make sure that the moment wasn't ruined by a shock. The glitter in his eyes still dull compared to what it once was. Not that it mattered, seeing as just like everything that moment was ruined by the almighty collar, simply by it being there.

Not for much longer.

I'm going to get my little Nick back, come hell or high water.

I'll be able to see my sweet wife finally bloom into the beautiful flower that she was always meant to be, after spending so long tied up as a bud.

I… I barely remember what it was like to not have a collar on. I can remember my uncle's funeral, just about. There's that birthday at the nursery, where this Zebra kid had a cake covered in green icing. That's about it for BC. Everything else, everything that's shape me as a person, is all AC. I don't even know my true self, do I? I'm… I'm actually scared.

I'm going to become a stranger. What if nothing changes? What if I become mean or cruel? I've lived with this thing around my neck for so long, I just can't fathom what it would be like without it. It's like asking me to imagine a whole new colour, with the little addendum that other mammals can so it should be simple. But you just can't do it. It's impossible. You simply can't.

I feel like I'm standing in the fog on the edge of a cliff, prepping myself up to jump into the unknown.

But even if I jump and survive, and swim off. Even if I do come out of it as the same person but better, will I ever be free? I think I'll still have some unbreakable string or link, shackling me to that place. Sure, it may stretch and stretch to infinity. But it'll still be there. I'll still remember the pain. I'll still remember the day of my taming. Mum and Dad didn't even bother throwing me a party, they just kept me out of it despite my begging until the policemen came to ask why I wasn't in one. I didn't get any of those gaudy green decorations or patronising songs, instead just the words of a bitter old Todd telling me that the Prey Scum made this to hurt us, because they hate us.

Hard not to forget a day when you see your father getting sprayed with Fox-rep. I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of his screams… and the shocks. Or the feeling of getting shocked yourself, and those policemen just looking away, almost out of shame, when you ask, and then begin to beg to them. They just let me scream out over and over, getting more and more shocked and, when it was all over, they left without giving me the courtesy of an answer.

Although, I think I'd already heard the answer that day. They sprayed Dad for saying it, long before I asked them. Why my collar was hurting me when I wasn't being naughty? Why couldn't I take it off? They were just cowards. Their cowardice created the collars. Their cowardice means that, even though they know just what they do, they refuse to think about it. Instead locking their guilt away into this tiny little corner of their brain, where it can be drowned out by apathy or hate.

I do think they hate us. Hate us because that's the way they were raised. Hate us because it lets them feel superior. Because however bad it gets, they'll still be a Prey mammal. They'll still have 2 million Chompers to look down at and spit at and, afterwards, they'll congratulate themselves as they're 'the good guys'.

Looking back, I'm guessing that was what finally got to my parents. I used to despise them even more than the Prey, they took the cowards way out, giving up. Choosing to turn their backs on this world and leaving me alone, sending me enough pure untreated Dark chocolate in the post in case I wanted to join them. But looking back, they were the sane ones. They had nothing to give a damn about in this world, so they chose to leave it, doing something on their own terms for just once. Me, on the other hand, I was a loony. A crazy optimistic, in denial about the true reality of the world. Thinking that if I just dressed right, I could make Prey tolerate me.

Oh, I learned a trade and helped people.

I started a small business in a dying part of town.

One day a Vixen came into my shop, asking for a repair to a suit so she could go to a job interview. Later that night, after buying some mealworms for dinner, I heard the sound of some shocks and followed them to find the same Vixen. Turns out that there were some honest Prey in this world. Said straight up that people wouldn't want a Fox handling their deposits and savings. I learned that, without the job, she was about to be kicked onto the streets and, having grown up in the orphanages, had nowhere to go. And so, I promised her a bed at my place if she ever needed it.

Then, I promised to help her with the gaps in her education.

Then, even though I wouldn't need a helping hand for years, I trained her in needlework and sewing.

Several years later, I promised to look after her in sickness and in health.

Looking back, that wasn't a mistake. I've loved her for so long. But I've never been able to truly Love her.

.

.

But I made mistakes too. I thought that a bank manager might be reasonable. I thought that, after he all but agreed to the loan over the phone, my species would at most raise an eyebrow.

But my worst mistake was always bringing in another Predator into this world, knowing just what that meant. For so long, however much I loved him, I couldn't help but think that I was as selfish, mean and cruel as all those Prey really believed.

.

So, I went further down the rabbit hole, didn't I?

Rather than sobering up, I created my craziest dream of them all. Sailing off to unclaimed lands and starting a new town… country? No mammal has ever done that before. No animal ever has. The Sea is scary. Those islands unknown.

But at some point, it started turning from a crazy fantasy into something else. Hope… for the first time in my life, true hope. I've always dreamed, and told my sweet little Nick to dream, but for years I only half believed it. But going on, I began and believe it more. And now, knowing now that we have that key, I believe it with every fibre of my body. Knowing now that we can go ahead. Looking back at all those mistakes and all that pain. I'm beginning to think that it could actually be worth it.

.

I'm going to discover me true self.

.

I'm going to properly meet my wife for the first time.

.

I'm going to be able to Love her, Love her like in the movies.

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I'm going to get my precious little Nick back.

.

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Damn…

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I hope that when reading this through, it'll be worth those few little Zips.

.

John P Wilde, signing off.

.

.

Feeling the cold wind flow through my fur and around my ears, I tried not to shiver. For their sake, I didn't want to look scared but, deep down, I knew that I was more terrified that I'd ever been before. After all that work, all that effort, we were well past the point of no return. We were committed, and figuratively in uncharted water. Shifting a bit as I drew a coat up around my shoulders, I let the last fleeting lights of Zootopia vanish into the distance, before turning away. Leaving that city behind me, I couldn't help but get excited, the familiar beep of my collar warming up twitching my ears as I walked forward.

"Make the most of it while you can," I said, a sly last comment.

My terror and excitement weren't separate, they were one and the same. I knew I was trembling as I made my way along the cold steel deck of our ship, my Pads aching slightly from the heat sapping moisture. Hopefully it was just the vibrations from the engines…

Hopefully…

.

Turning up in the middle of the ship, I paused to look at all those who had followed me. So many Preds, so many children. Almost all with orange lights hanging around their necks. Not for much longer. Looking to my right, I spotted the unassuming box and wandered over, noticing the hush falling over the crowd. By the time I picked up the scanning tool on the inside, my paws had begun to tremble badly. I must have paused for a bit, because the next thing I remember was flinching at the sound of the shouts from the crowd.

"Get on with it…!"

"Don't tell me your having second thoughts John…"

"Collar or not, a face is going to be bit off tonight if you don't move it!"

Turning back to the key while the shouts were still light hearted, I began moving it up to my collar. For the life of me, I didn't know why I was scared. Why I was hesitating. Why I wasn't taking it straight off given how many times I'd wished to tear it clean off in the past. I'd written and dreamed about this moment so many times. Why couldn't I do it?

"Hurry up Dad…"

I froze, taking my eyes off the scanner and looking at my little Son standing in front of me, his collar burning orange. I gulped, and without thinking immediately held the key up to his neck and pulled the button.

.

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There was a soft beep.

.

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A click…

.

.

The band I'd tied around his neck close to three years ago came loose, falling down into his paws. The entire crowd, looking on, was silent as I watched him curiously raise a hand to feel and mess around with that fur. His eyelids fluttered… was he enjoying it? Was it worth it?

"Slick…?"

.

His eyes opened and before I could think he tore the key out of my paws and lunged for my neck, his face contorted in a fierce predatory snarl. His claws digging into me as he climbed up, I winced slightly before my eyes tore open. I must have missed the beep and click, but I felt cold air flood onto my neck. The wind was picking it up, making the fur flutter while it caressed the sore skin beneath, almost making it sting.

Standing up, I just felt around there. I didn't know what to do. I was clueless. Did the intense happiness just come? Or what? Where was I now? Should I be on the floor, writhing and screaming in pain?

Looking up, I saw my little Nick busy with the scanner, waving through a long line of Predators, when each one came he'd laugh or joke as he removed their collars.

"And noooo collar for you! Bye- Bye Mr Collar! Adios lame collarlo! Go zap yourself you piece of Junk!"

A flash of horror came over me as I listened to him, picking up the excitement in his voice. I was halfway through lunging forward, ready to scream out a warning, before I remembered that he was safe. A second later, I realised that I should be on the floor too.

I was now completely clueless. Sure, I was happy that I didn't red-light. But… was that all we were missing? Was that it? Unlike Nick, I didn't remember… I didn't know what life was supposed to be like.

"You seem lost."

I jumped in shock, almost yipping, as I heard Marie's voice on my ear. Turning to face her, I just stared for a moment, not realising what was wrong.

"We all know that he's a Daddies boy," she began, her voice taking on a playful tone I'd never heard before… although one which, given how it sent a tingle down my spine and to the tip of my tail, I'd want to hear a whole lot more of. "But you really didn't think he'd uncollar me straight away too?"

My eyes falling, I just rested them on her bare neck. Her lovely… beautiful… bare neck. Her fluffy silky neck that only a brute would cover up. Oh god… I should be red lighting now, shouldn't I? Every part of me was screaming, calling at me to lock myself in a quiet room and do some knitting or something…

"Here John," she continued, grasping my paw in hers as she used her other to tilt up my muzzle, so I could gaze into her emerald eyes, glossing over with tears. "You did so much for me, let me help you."

She lunged, and I felt her tongue burst into my mouth. I was shocked, terrified… But as a gust of wind whistled through my bare Neck fur, the voices warning me seemed so much more distant.

I looked my soul mate in her eyes, I cocked my head and pushed my tongue in, and my eyes closed as I felt her become my universe.

.

.

.

I don't know when I came out of it. When the feeling of her rough tongue massaging down the back of my throat and tickling my teeth; the nips and cuts of her own on my lips; the deep rich perfume of her scent and the caress of her arms actually registered as a feeling. When that… when that something else which I couldn't put into words, began to fade away. I still kissed and sucked and bit and smelled and held her with passion. I still felt bliss and love a thousand times stronger than I'd ever before. I still knew that I should be screaming and rolling on the floor. But above all else, I knew that all this work, all the stress and effort, had been more than worth it.

It was a bargain.

.

Finally pulling our muzzles apart, I watched as Marie raised a finger to clean off some tears I didn't know I had, before giving a gentle peck to my nose as a wry smile grew on her.

"Nick's been so busy, hasn't been able to see us do the icky…"

I turned to look over, and there he was. My little boy, still undoing collar after collar. Oh god… I'd forgotten! I tore away from Marie, racing towards him. Weaving through the other Preds, standing around confused or celebrating their freedom, I grabbed the collar key from his paw and shoved it into the next Pred in line, before turning to my precious Kit.

"NICK! I LOVE YOU, YOU LITTLE MUNCHKIN!"

Grabbing hold of him with both paws and holding him high, I noticed that he looked a little scared at first before the biggest grin I'd ever seen grew across his muzzle in the blink of an eye.

"I LOVE YOU TOO PAPS!"

"DO YOU WANT TO PLAY LIKE A PREY BOY?!"

"YES!" he screamed back at the top of his little lungs, before he collapsed into a fit of giggles as I began mercilessly tickling him, his laughs soon becoming mine. Shifting him around, I cradled him under my arms as I began to race forward into the wind, my other arm out and dancing in the breeze. Glancing down, I saw Nicks arms out too as he flew, and the sparkle in his eyes that had vanished on the steps outside the city bank years ago finally return.

Turning forward and without a care in the world, we left Zootopia behind.

.

The next morning, after the craziest and greatest night of all our lives, I'd finally realise that I'd experienced passion for the first time. If only I could go back to my past self, and tell him just how much I'd underhyped it.

But now, as I saw my Son heal and return; fell in love with my wife all over again and as I discovered a whole new me, I only knew one simple truth.

.

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We were finally free.

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Authors notes: And there it is…

All Nicks sorrow and sadness in ZTOP, brought about because a coin flip showed a tails rather than a head. BUT, is the alternative any better?

Head over to 'Coming to Reward them' to find out…