"Nick."
His heard his name like a whisper on the wind. He opened his eyes to the bright light, eyes that were clouding with age.
The old, graying fox stood waist deep in a field of wheat that stretched for miles. Above him, the golden sun sat in a perfectly blue sky. He looked around, adjusting the spindly pair of spectacles perched on his muzzle. Green, rolling hills sat in the distance, bathed in the warmth. A small group of buildings stood some way away; the top floors of a rabbit warren. He hadn't come to Bunnyburrow in over four years. Not since Judy had… Bunnies didn't live as long as foxes, after all.
He lowered his head, picturing his wife of almost 25 years as she was in her prime. A tear slid down his cheek and was lost in the white fur of his muzzle.
"Nick."
His head lifted, and he looked around for a source of the whisper. There was no-one else in sight. He sighed sadly.
He looked down at the cane in his hand. Thin, arthritic fingers gripped its handle, his fur no longer the chestnut red of his youth but now a dark brown, flecked with black and gray. He slowly limped forward through the field, and his thought back to the first time he had come here.
He was 36, she was 28. They had been investigating a case that had brought them to Bunnyburrow, and he had asked her to show him the nightlife. One too many drinks had led to them stumbling back to her parents' house late at night. He had tripped on something which had resulted in him pulling her to the ground as he fell. They'd lain down amongst the crop; carrots if he remembered correctly, and it was then he'd first really seen the universe in all its glory stretched out above him. She'd teased him at the awe on his face, initially, and then snuggled into him as he stared wide eyed at the millions of stars above them. They'd had their first proper kiss that evening, although they had both claimed not to remember it. The next morning had found them waking up naked together in bed, embarrassed. They hadn't quite got together yet at that point, which made the shock a much better hangover cure than coffee.
The old fox grinned at the memory. Oh, to be young again. His eyes started to hurt in the bright light, so he removed his glasses to rest them. It was strange, he thought. He could almost see clearer without them for once.
They'd started dating shortly after that. He had been pleasantly surprised; he had come out of the case scarred, physically and mentally, but she had only loved him more for it. He felt a twinge of pain in his ripped left ear, a permanent reminder of the fight on that roof that had led to their relationship solidifying. He walked on. The wheat rippled in a soft breeze and he was reminded of their wedding, a year or so later.
The field was decorated in white and lavender. He stood nervously by a podium at the front of the field, tugging at his tie. Fennick stood beside him, guffawing. A large white tent stood at the back, with rows upon rows of wooden chairs arranged between it and him. The seats were full, hundreds of bunnies sat talking quietly to themselves. In the front row, his mother was quietly crying with Bonnie. The processional music began. A long stream of bridesmaids walked along the aisle, mostly rabbits although Francine and Fangmeyer were near the end. The bridesmaids were accompanied by police officers in dress uniform. Chief Bogo tailed the procession, giving him a teary smile as he took his seat.
There was movement at the entrance to the tent, and the guests had turned to watch. Nick had felt his breath taken away. Stu led her down the aisle, near tears himself, but Nick only had eyes for the doe on his arm. She had been radiant, the white dress hugging her torso and flaring out over her hips, and when she got nearer he has seen her nervously happy face under the veil which rippled in the breeze. He lifted it, smiling down at her. The ceremony was a blur in his memory after that, only clearly remembering the kiss at the end and the cheering that followed.
He ran his fingers through the wheat as he walked, thinking back to their first dance as a married couple. He dropped the cane, and pretended to hold her while waltzing. If he closed his eyes, he could even picture her weight and warmth in his arms. He remembered her hot breath tickling his ear as she had whispered his name.
"Nick."
He slowly, sadly, opened his eyes, and strode off again. The cane lay abandoned behind him.
They'd not been able to have children, of course. It was biologically impossible. But they had adopted an orphaned fox cub. They'd been good parents, he thought. They had raised him to be kind, and driven. They'd given him the opportunities his mother had not been able to give him, and the encouragement to follow his dreams that her parents had only reluctantly given her. They had a home filled with love and respect. That wasn't to say they didn't have the usual arguments that all families had, whether it was their son fighting with them, or they disagreeing with each other. But apologies were always given, and the family only grew stronger.
Charlie had become a firefighter, a profession his cop parents had been proud of. They'd been there at his graduation ceremony, Judy taking far more pictures than needed, as she always had. She was getting old, and a moment of clarity had passed between father and son that day, as they realized wordlessly that she didn't have much longer with them.
Nick paused as he neared the burrow. It was strangely silent; the usual hoard of bunnies tracking in and out was missing, the rustle of the wind through the plants the only sound. He placed his head in his hands, hands stronger and fuller than they had felt in years, as the memory of that fateful day forced itself to the surface.
The scent of disinfectant was strong enough to cut through his failing sense of smell, making his skin crawl. He hated hospitals; he'd never been in one for a good reason. The room was silent, except for the hum of the vent and the sniffles from the two foxes. He shifted in the uncomfortable green chair, and focused on bunny lying in the bed next to him. Judy had clutched his paw, the fur on hers thin and patchy, as they came to terms that she was going to pass. Charlie had sat on the other side, eyes filled with tears as his mother's breaths became ragged and laboured. She had leant over to him, reassuring him that he was a good son and telling him she loved him. They had exchanged kisses and hugs, and then she'd turned her attention to her husband. Slick Nick, she'd called him. He'd called her a sly bunny, which got a chuckle. They shared one last kiss as her eyes had drifted closed. He watched as her breathing slowed, the time between each breath taking longer and longer. He waited, memorising each breath for a moment that seemed to stretch out to an eternity. Her chest stopped rising. She looked smaller than she had in life, seeming to have shrunk in mere seconds. Her optimistic and carefree attitude had been holding off the rigours of age, and now that was gone the years seemed to flood into her. He felt flat, and with a great deal of care pressed his muzzle between her ears and kissed her head.
It's been a hustle, Sweetheart.
Tears slipped down his cheeks, dripping on to her fur. Charlie had moved around to his side of the bed, and pulled him into a hug. They had stood like that, father and son crying into each other, until a nurse had gently interrupted to remove her body. Charlie had sorted most of the funeral arrangements, leaving Nick to try and come to terms with the hole in his life. He was empty, lacking a crucial piece of himself. He had sat, silent and stoic in the front row of the church, staring at her portrait as family and friends had come to pay their respects. Even an elderly Bogo had turned up, wearing a black knitted cardigan. Charlie had said a eulogy that Nick hadn't taken in a word of, and the next thing he knew an endless line of bunny relatives, work colleagues, and family friends were speaking to him, commiserating and consoling. The numbness only faded as he watched the small casket lower into the ground. He had stood in silence for a long time at the grave, unwilling to return to his empty home.
Nick stood in Judy's childhood home. Hundreds of rabbits lived here, but there wasn't a soul to see. His footsteps echoed as he wandered around; walking down the spiral staircase to her old bedroom, returning to the cavernous dining room, feeling like ghost intruding into a sacred shrine. His feet brought him back to the main lobby, where the door stood open. A single bunny was silhouetted against the bright light streaming in.
"Nick!"
He ran towards the figure, scared they would disappear, heart beating as hard as when he was chasing criminals in his heyday. He reached them, the shape resolved into the one person he had longed to see. Sparkling amethyst eyes looked up at him, ears perked up, gray fur thick and shiny. A massive grin was plastered on Judy's face. She looked younger, as young as she had when they'd first met. He paused in front of her, not believing his own eyes. She reached out, caressing his face and whispering how much she loved him, how much she had missed him. He kissed her.
They broke apart, breathing heavily and laughing. He felt younger too, and he wasn't surprised when he saw his fur was thicker too, now the deep mahogany of a fox in his prime. His muscles and fingers were fuller, even his ragged ear was whole. He breathed in, rejoicing in being able to smell the only scent he truly missed. He took her hand, and they walked back out into the eternal perfect day. They sat on a bench by the door, watching the wind make ripples in the field of gold around them
"How long do we have together?" he asked, remembering lying in a hospital bed himself, holding a weeping Charlie's hand.
She sighed happily, snuggling into him. "Forever."
Author's Notes:
Well, that was my first fanfiction in many, many years. I hope you enjoyed it, as it was fun to write. It was inspired by the last part of Mead's "A Life Worth Living" , specifically the final image of Nick in the wheatfield.
I'm also searching for a kind soul I can inflict my other Zootopia WIP on, currently at 20,000 words but I expect to be 40-50,000. Being rusty at this whole writing lark, it would be great to find someone who can help with both characterization and grammar, and also who can help me Americanize my writing to better fit the universe (I'm British, and would like to make it less jarring).
Reviews are welcome, but not expected. Any constructive criticism would be well recieved.