11:27 am, September 14th
Vaguely aware of a dull warmth buried in his side, Nick drifted weightlessly through fields of bright light, visions of an endless reach of golden waves blowing in the wind danced against the corners of his eyes. He could hear laughing. A singsong voice calling out to him in pure joy, dancing around his form in happy contention. Nick could hear his own voice, in a tone he had never heard before. Joyous in its playful movement, his own disembodied voice sent shivers down his spine.
He could see his own paw reach out into the golden fields, brushing against something as soft as the morning light, a figure materializing in the forefront of his vision. The boundless reaches of wheat flowed out beyond the figure as it began moving away from his outstretched paw, sad eyes watching him as he began his movement chasing after it. Nick was calling out again, this time in pleading desperation. A faint smile reached across the gray figure's face for but a moment before it dissolved into the deep blue sky, fading away completely.
Panic was setting in as the sky grew darker, the rich blue souring in saturation. The gentle flow of the wind that rustled the wheat around him began a wicked dance as it grew torrential. The wheat was dying, the wilted plants falling towards the ground to make room for the rise of oily shadows. The dark smears rose from every corner of his vision, blotting out the dimming sun and robbing the ethereal world around him of any color, any light, as it swallowed him whole. Nick was falling, but he could not scream. All he could do was witness his descent into nothing.
Nick shot up from where he was, jolting quickly as he tried to orientate himself. When he became aware of the form by his side that moved along side him, the night and day before rushed back into his mind. He closed his eyes and let out a shaking breath, leaning back into the bales of hay.
"Nick?" The worried voice that belonged to the dull warmth breathed at him.
He opened one eye slightly, looking down at the rabbit that was staring up at him with one of her paws on his rapidly heaving chest. Nick let out another breath, this one shaking far less as he calmed himself down. "I told you I startle easily," he choked out, smiling at her as he closed his eyes again.
The rain outside was raging still, though the downpour had tapered off somewhat if the sound was any indication. It was light out, but Nick could not think of what time it would be. He had slept longer than he usually did, that was for sure, but the subtle gray light masked any discernible characteristics of time with ease. He felt Judy bury herself into his side again, and draped his arm back over her. "You were mumbling in your sleep," she started simply, her own voice laced with a waking tiredness.
The warmth of sleep radiated off of her and into his fur underneath the blanket, almost burning hot. Nick hummed to her, pushing his own subconscious down as he regained his functions. "Nothing incriminating, I hope," he murmured before letting out a toothy yawn.
"Actually," she let out an exhausted giggle, draping her arm back over his chest to get comfortable again after the sudden movement. "You were pleading the fifth over and over."
"Oh, good," he chuckled back at her joke. "It's nice to know not all of my faculties have betrayed me."
"Yup," she chirped lazily, letting out another yawn before sticking her nose into his side. "Only most of them," her muffled voice came out.
Nick hummed at her, settling back into the bales behind him. "I've got to say, Fluff," he commented. "You were right. Straw pillows are pretty comfortable."
She snorted into his side, sending another shiver up his spine at the vibration. "Only half as good as a fox, actually."
"I'm glad my services are appreciated," he quipped, bringing his head up and opening his eyes. The light didn't burn as much as he would have thought, as the dark clouds that rumbled outside blocked the majority of the sunshine. Nick could see the farmhouse in a new light, the cedar shingling blotched with moss glistened wetly in the gray desaturation. It was much more homely in the day; even the chimney the billowed out clouds of dark smoke seemed almost comfortable. Perish the thought, he commented. The day that burrow looks comfortable is the day I turn in my fox card. Nick glanced down at the resting bunny, her eyes closed in a relaxed contentedness. Looks like I'm going to have to figure out where they'll take it, he finished plainly.
"What time is it?" Nick wondered out loud.
"Phone," Judy lazily replied, gesturing beside him with the arm draped over his chest, never lifting it any more than by the wrist.
Nick picked up the cPhone, turning over the white electronic in his paw so the glossy black screen faced him and tapped the power button on the side. What met his vision struck him well and truly dumb. The wallpaper was a selfie of Judy, but more importantly, it was a selfie of Judy and Nick. Taken recently. Very recently. She was smiling up at the camera with her ears parted comically by a slumbering fox, whose chin was draped over her head. Nick's tongue was slightly sticking out of his mouth as he slept in the strange position. Judy's head and arm were the only thing that could be seen, as she was poking out from under his shoulder, the rest of his arms wrapped around her. He involuntarily let out a loud scoff, staring at the picture.
"Oh, yeah," she spoke from her position, never opening her eyes. "I took a picture by the way."
"I can see that," he breathed, brow furrowing at the image assaulting his eyes. The only thing between him and this image's destruction was a simple four digit passcode. So much more manageable than the fifteen digit monster he had envisioned, but equally insurmountable given his circumstances. His thumb tapped against the screen quickly, inputting every important date he could recall about supercop Judy Hopps, trying to remember every date that jumped out at him from when he had looked through the Zootopia Public Library newspaper archives. He had made copies of a number or articles about her, though he didn't really understand why at the time.
The first thing her tried was her graduation from ZPA, June nineteenth, which didn't work. Nick feverishly inputted her birthday, her first day on the job, the date she was accepted under the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, and even her parent's birthdays, which also didn't work. It was surprising what reporters put into their stories to pad out the length, and the negligence of including exact dates had, on more than one occasion, provided Nick with an 'in' on a number of cons. He huffed out a breath in frustration when he was prompted with a message telling him he had locked the phone, having put in too many incorrect guesses. Nick sat the phone back down dejectedly. No matter, he thought. It's just a matter of time.
"So," she purred at him, stretching her legs under the blanket. "What time is it?"
Nick realized that he had not even looked at the time, having been sidetracked completely by the picture. "Damn it all," he sighed, picking the phone back up. "Almost noon," he finally answered.
"You were looking at it for almost a minute, and you didn't read the time?" She shot up at him.
"I was trying to guess your passcode," he simply replied, looking back out the open haydoor.
She yawned again before continuing, "Good luck with that, Wilde. I change it every week, and it's random."
Maybe it's not a matter of time, he thought bitterly. I guess I kinda figured she would have it like that. Nick looked down at the rabbit nuzzled into his side, still looking like she was on the brink of sleep. "I thought you were some hotshot cop?" He started. "Yet here you are, sleeping to noon and lazing around in bed."
"Shh," she hissed at him, her brows furrowing in irritation while still keeping her eyes shut. "Stop talking. Pillows can't talk."
Nick snorted at her, though his muzzle pulled up into a lopsided smile. "Is this some kind of game to get me to stay?" He soothed down at her playfully. "It's not going to work."
"Did you know our driveway floods?" She cooed up at him, a lazy smile creeping across her featured as she parted her eyelids just enough to give him a mischievous look.
Staring down at her, he tried to piece together what she was saying. Nick recalled the flimsy driveway that snaked down a dry riverbed, but he clearly remembered believing it hadn't seen water in years. Why would they have their driveway like that if flooded? It was a bluff. It had to be. "You're not going to get me that easily," he cautiously replied, calling her bluff.
"It's the truth," she stated matter-of-factly. "I missed lots of school to spring storms when I was a kit."
"I'll swim," Nick deadpanned.
Judy giggled at him, her jovial shaking rustled Nick along with her in their state of being tangled together. She settled back into the crook of his tosto, closing her eyes again. "I don't know," she sung out, drawing out the last syllable of 'know' in alternating notes with a playful expression. "Flood water can be dangerous," she finished.
About to reply, Nick was cut off by a loud banging sound from the ground floor of the barn. The enormous door that Nick had realized had been shut after they climbed up into the loft flung open, bashing into the wooden wall with a heavy force. "Judy?" A familiar male voice called out into the barn.
"We're up here!" She called down, not moving from her spot.
Nick turned his vision between Judy and the ladder that reached up into the loft, and then back down to Judy. Was she really not going to move? Was she going to let her brother see her curled up into the side of a fox? He couldn't put the words together, just sitting there dumbfounded by her contented breathing against his blue henley shirt. His mind was spurred back into motion when he heard Hare climbing the rickety ladder. "Carrots," he whispered out in a hiss. "It's time to move over. Come on, get up. Let's go," he continued, poking her side.
"Hush," she breathed back, swatting his paw away before replacing it back on his chest. "I'm not done yet."
His eyebrows shot up as he watched in stunned silence as Hare's ears became visible on the ladder, and they were still rising. "Is your plan to keep me here," he eased out in a low rumble. "To have your brother bury me out back?"
Judy giggled at him before opening he deep amethyst eyes to look up at him, a dull smile pulling the features of her face. "What's the matter, Wilde?" She questioned. "You afraid of a tiny little rabbit?"
This again, he exasperatedly thought to himself, shooting his gaze over to Hare as he nearly rounded the top of the ladder. This rabbit is going to be the death of me, he finished. Hare turned once he had situated himself onto the loft and stopped dead looking at the pair staring back at him. Nick had his ears splayed back against his skull, a frown turning his usual smugness upside-down. Judy, on the other hand, just stared at him expectantly, as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary.
"Afternoon," Nick shot out lamely, stiffening in his spot against the bales.
Hare just stared at them, his dull brown eyes hastily changed from one form to the other as they were tangled in each other's arms. Nick could see he was soaking wet; his fur was matted in every spot he could see and was literally dripping with water. His lower half was caked in mud, layers upon layers of crusting and newly clung wet dirt. The patches in his jeans were completely hidden behind dark stains, and his forearms had lost their gray color in favor of his new earthen gauntlets. He had a long morning out in the rain, which did not make Nick feel any better about the situation at hand.
Without taking his eyes off of the two mammals in front of him, Hare rounded the edge of the balcony and made his way towards Nick and Judy. He only broke his stare when he passed them, walking towards the wooden spool which had Judy's clothes and a pair of towels sat in an unorganized heap. "Did you two stay up here last night?" He spoke softly, looking over the contents on the circular surface.
"Yeah," Judy replied simply, apathetic to her brother's reaction. "Nick wasn't comfortable in the warren."
"Oh," Hare deadpanned as he turned to look at the pair with hard eyes. "Wasn't comfortable over in the warren, was he?"
"That is what I said, Hare," she shot back, putting her paw on his chest to push herself up slightly.
The rabbit in front of them just looked on blankly. "Just trying to see if it made any more sense the second time."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Judy questioned, her brow furrowing at the rabbit.
"I mean," he started pointedly. "He doesn't look like he has a problem with rabbits," Hare hissed out the last word, looking straight at Judy.
Nick just sat there. He could see that this was getting out of paw very quickly, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation. "Says the mammal that isn't exactly comfortable in the warren," Judy scoffed at him, shooting her nose up into the air to look down over her muzzle at him. "When he is, in fact, a full-blooded lapin himself."
Hare clicked his tongue off of his buck teeth. "Tryin' to turn this around on me now, are you?" He shot back, his expression losing its blank appearance to a harsher, more indignant one.
"What exactly am I turning around, Hare?" She inquired.
"Oh really? You couldn't guess?"
"Gonna have to spell it out for me, big brother," Judy replied, sitting up completely next to Nick, no longer leaning into him as she crossed her arms at Hare. "If you've got a problem, I'd like to hear it. I'm mostly ears, after all."
"Ha," he breathed back as he turned from them and started packing up the first aid kit as to not have to look at them. "I'm sure that'll just brighten up my whole morning, wouldn't it?" hare exhaled. "Gettin' into this with you again."
Nick took this time to interject, trying to cut the confrontation short as best he could. "Rough morning?" He said swiftly.
Hare turned from the spool to give Nick the same look he was giving him the night before, when he had first met him on the porch. "Yeah, fox," he seethed. "Rough morning."
"His name is Nick," Judy angily butted in, giving her brother a look that Nick had not seen since the first day he met her, when he tried to crush her dreams. This was not going as he had hoped. Maybe you shouldn't have hoped for it to go well, Nick, he thought. Not really sure why you would have hoped that in the first place. It never goes well.
"My bad," he replied plainly. "I forgot."
She snorted at him, pulling herself closer to the bales behind her so she could lean into them. "That's all that liquor woking," she rumbled under her breath.
Hare's face scrunched up into a sneer staring at his sister, and his mouth parted open before Nick cut off his retort. "So!" Nick chirped out in a pained cheerfulness. "You were up pretty late last night, weren't you? Must be quite the diligent agriculturalist if you were out in the fields early on a day like this." The rabbit in front of them turned his vision from Judy to the fox, his sneer diminishing slightly as he observed him. "Out in the fields," Nick continued, pointing one paw out the opening where the rain continued to fall. "When it's raining." His blank stare was back, and Nick could see a storm behind his brown eyes, threatening to blow over at any minute and become a full-fledged shouting match.
After a short few moments of blank staring, Judy spoke. "I believe that was a question, Hare," she called to him. "I suppose all that booze is making you hard of hearing too."
"What she means is," Nick almost shouted, giving the bunny beside him a quick jab in the side with his elbow and a pointed glare before looking back at her brother, "That I am actually curious about farm life, and wondering why you're caked in mud." Hare stared at the fox, a slow realization crossing his face that he was trying to play mediator, which seemed to calm down his rage slightly, though not enough for the storm behind his eyes to dissipate. He clicked his tongue at the pair of mammals lying against the hay bales and turned to the railing, looking at Nick's cloths hung up to dry.
The group of mammals settled into a small silence. The pair of rabbits calmed down as the quiet continued for a short time, the patting of the rain doing much to sooth the heating up confrontation. "The flood was worse than we thought out in the west fields by the creek," he began calmly. "The Abbott kits built a dam out of twigs and mud up stream, and Josiah woke me up before you got back to help. After I brought all the stuff you asked for up here, I was out in the dark for hours with the excavator building a levee to stanch the flow," he turned from the railing and back to the pair. "Hopefully all that damn water gets sent right back to the flat-tailed bastards."
Judy gaped at her brother's words. "It's an honest mistake," she retorted sharply. "They were probably just having a little fun."
Hare snorted at her. "Having a little fun. That's rich," he jibed. "It's an environmental hazard and a pain in my ass to clean up after those twerps all the time. Those folks of theirs watch their own like a predator watches cauliflower," Hare continued, glancing over at Nick with a harsh expression. "No offence."
Nick shrugged. "I don't ever remember watching cauliflower," he eased, still trying to defuse the situation.
"Yeah, well," he scoffed at the fox. "You're not much of a predator, either."
"Harrison!" Judy hissed, sitting up completely as her ears became completely erect and her nose twitched incessantly in exasperation.
"Cry me a river, sis," he shot at her, tilting his muzzle into the air. "I'm plenty warmed up. I've been fighting one the whole time you were up here with your little pet."
Judy let out a squeak that Nick could only interpret as the precursor to something drastic. "That's it!" She cried, scrambling from her position to get up, completely ignoring the pain in her leg.
"Woah, Carrots!" Nick said, catching her from her middle and pulling her back down into her spot. "Stop!" He barked at them both, before looking at Judy and giving her an exasperated expression. "Look," he began slowly, glancing over to Hare. "It's been a long morning for you, and I'm sure you're working on very little sleep. Let's just all simmer down a little bit and get back to being begrudgingly polite to each other."
"Looks like you two are being a little bit more than begrudgingly polite from where I'm standing," he deadpanned back.
"Harrison," Judy hissed out, giving him a menacing glare.
Her brother shot up both earthen paws in surrender and shrunk back slightly. "Fine," he muttered under his breath. "Whatever. I'm done," he said, settling back into his normal posture and watching the pair from across the loft. "We are going to have a talk after I take him to the train station, though," he finished.
Judy scoffed loudly at him, taking his half-surrender more as a mockery than an acceptance of defeat. "How do you figure he wants to go anywhere with you?"
"I've been playing nice, sis," he seethed, pointing a finger at her. "Nobody but me even knows that he's here. We've got maybe a couple hours before Mom and Dad are back, and I do not want to have to deal with the shitstorm that is going to bring when they try to put these pieces together," Hare finished, gesturing wildly at the two mammals in front of him.
Two black tipped ears shot up at Hare's words, and Judy's expression grew questioning. "They're gone? Where?"
"City hall again," he replied irritatedly. "After Dad had a look at the levee situation, they went back to town."
"Why?" She asked with interest, still slightly angry at her brother's comments. "The emergency meeting was last night."
"There's going to be a referendum for the current mayor to step down," he replied. "He's a member of Bellwether's United Populace Party."
Judy's expression grew curious, almost confused. "He was independent on the ballot," she spoke out in a questioning tone.
"That's why it was an emergency meeting," Hare gawked at her. A slow realization crossed his face as he looked onto the muddled expressions that perceived his words. "How much have you been following the news since you left the city?" He asked quietly, changing his vision between the pair expectantly.
Both Nick and Judy looked at each other before looking back at Hare at the same time. "Not much?" Judy exasperated, shrugging her shoulders.
Hare let out a swift exhale from his nose. "Well," he began. "It seems like some mammals in the know about her plans didn't quite appreciate them." hare let those words sink in before continuing, "Someone has been putting up data packets online for the past day, filled to the brim with emails, recorded phone conversations, and surveillance pictures."
Nick's ears perked up. "Someone within her own party?" He questioned, cocking an eyebrow.
The rabbit in front of them regarded Nick for a moment before answering. "Hell if I know," He deadpanned. "I just had the radio on in the excavator, and they wouldn't shut up about the so-called "web of conspirators", as they see it." He turned his eyes to Judy to continue answering her question. "Our independent mayor had a number of email chains with Zootopia's former keeper, apparently, and Mom and Dad have been asked to volunteer some time to help with the ballet. The city council feels that the parents of the rabbit that brought Bellwether to justice probably has the greatest chance of not being 'in' on the plot."
"Just how many mammals were 'in' on the plot?" Judy asked guardedly, anticipating an answer she wouldn't like.
"Zootopia's interim mayor's office seems to think it's "inconclusive", though I don't think a lot of people trust the guy."
Nick threw the blanket off of his legs, and slowly started to get up. He smoothed the blanket out to cover Judy as he stepped away from the bales of hay, pressing his paws into the small of his back and pushing out the cricks created through their chosen sleeping position. "Who's the new mayor?" He inquired, strolling over to the railing the held his clothes.
"Rampyke," Hare answered plainly, watching Nick's movements intently. "The city manager."
"Rampyke?" Judy butted in, still resting with the blanket over her legs. "But he's a member of the UPP."
"One of the reasons the city is a madhouse right now," Hare clarified. "Zootopia's council seemed to think he's best suited for the job of supervising the city until the November elections. Why that is, I don't know," he shrugged, losing some of the hostility in his stance. "Seems to me the fact that he's a ram and a member of the bitch's party is proof enough of his partisan affiliations."
Nick pulled the henley shirt over his head, and tossed it over his shoulder to the spool that held the rest of the dirty clothes. Nick saw Hare bristle at the movement slightly, his nose pulling up into another sneer, but his attention was grabbed when Judy asked another question. "Was there anything in the data packets about him?"
Hare looked at her for a moment before clicking his tongue at her. "Look it up on your phone," he deadpanned. "I do not pretend to pay attention to the superficial torch juggling of politics. The riots aren't happening in this town, so I don't care."
"How bad are they?" Nick questioned as he pulled his pear green Hawaiian shirt back over his shoulders. It was still somewhat damp, though in weather like this, he didn't see himself staying dry for long, so there wasn't much point. He moved to start buttoning himself up, starting from the bottom.
"Some cars got burned late last night outside the UPP's headquarters," Hare explained. "But that was after the police raid on the place. Riot cops had to form a line outside the building so they could load up all the files and computers."
Nick popped his collar up after completing his task of buttoning himself up most of the way, and pulled the tie over his shoulders. "Nothing else after that?" He inquired, tying the blue and red fabric into a knot.
"Protests and demonstrations, as far as I could understand it," Hare shot back, walking past Nick and slowly making his way towards the ladder before turning around. "The city is up in a panic, what with all that's going on. They're even doing it out in the rain," he lamented finally.
Nick nodded after he had finished dressing. "Good to know."
"Whatever you say, fox," he calmly replied.
"Dammit, Harrison!" Both mammals turned to the bunny still sitting against the hay staring daggers at her brother. "You call him fox one more time-"
Hare scoffed, cutting her off. "What's your problem, sis?" He blustered out. "Last time I checked, he's got red fur and sharp teeth. That's a fox if I've ever seen one."
"What's my problem?" She gaped back at him, her brow furrowing dangerously in indignant rage. "What the hell is your problem?"
"I've got plenty," he started matter-of-factly. "One of them just so happens to be I just caught a fox in bed with my sister."
Judy sucked in a breath, glaring at her brother with harsh intent. "Nothing even happen-"
"Don't!" He cut her off. "I don't care." Hare turned back to Nick and gave him an expectant look. "Are you still heading back to the city, or not?"
Nick saw at Judy give him a sideways glance, but continued watching her brother. "Yes," he stated simply. "I am."
The doe's eye grew wide as she heard her friend accept her brother's egregiously worded request. "Nick!" She hissed out.
"Carrots," he assuaged calmly, giving her an apologetic expression. "He's right." Nick gestured out the open window, where rain continued to hammer the earth of the farmland that stretched on for miles in every direction. "I have to get back to the city, and I do not want to be here when your parents get back."
Hare scoffed at the pair, turning and continuing his journey to the ladder. "I'll be in the truck," he deadpanned. "Make the heartfelt farewells quick."
"Harrison J. Hopps," Judy barked out at her brother's shrinking form. "You small-minded prick, you can't just walk away after that!"
"This is me, walking away," Hare called back calmly. "I am doing it."
"Damn you, Hare!" She shouted after him. "I thought you changed."
Hare swiveled around on the spot, turning his entire form in a fraction of a second and sneered at his sister, pointing an accusatory paw at her. "Bite me, sis," he shot back before turning again and starting his descent down the ladder. "We'll have that little talk when I get back," he finally called up from the ground.
"Yes," she barked down at him furiously "We will."
The barn door slammed down below them, sending the space into an echoed silence. Nick continued to watch the ground floor of the barn for a moment before sighing heavily. He turned to Judy, who was looking down at her lap with her ears behind her head, and calmly strolled over to her, sitting back down beside her. Glancing out the window to watch the water fall, Nick wondered why he didn't just push her himself. He had instead sat there with Judy buried into him and done nothing. So much for that survival instinct, he thought, running a paw over his head to smooth down his ears.
Judy began softly, in a barely audible tone. "I'm really sorry about that, Nick," she apologized, looking down at her lap still.
Nick glanced down beside himself at the rabbit blankly. After a moment of silence, he draped his arm on the a bale of hay behind her. "It's no problem," he assured. "You did kind of antagonize him a little bit by not scooting over like I told you."
"It is a problem, Nick," she said confidently, looking up at him with her deep amethyst eyes. "And what we were doing is in no way deserving of that reaction."
Giving her a sympathetic look, he let out a long breath through his snout. "What were we doing, Carrots?" He calmly asked. "Do you take all of your friends up to emotionally significant places and then cuddle with them?"
Judy turned away from him, closing her eyes and pushing her paws into her temples. "I knew it," she breathed out harshly. "You did feel weird about it."
"Rabbit," he emphatically began. "You know me enough by now to realize that all of this is weird to me. Do you not think this is even the slightest bit strange?"
"What? You and me being friends?" She inquired incredulously, turning her vision back up to the fox looking down at her. "No, Nick. I don't."
Nick chuckled at that, shifting slightly so he was more relaxed against the bales. "Are you even related to these mammals?" He scoffed. "You're nothing like them."
"I used to be," she whispered out, lamenting a mindset that seemed so alien now, almost like it was another person entirely. "But that's just it, Nick," she continued confidently. "Change starts with you."
A lazy smile creeped its way across his face as he continued to watch the rain. "Always the optimist," he softly replied.
The pair settled into another bout of silence, just enjoying each other's company. "You are going to call, right?" She asked hopefully, leaning back into his side.
"Every day," he nodded. "Until you're bored of me."
Judy let out a shaking sigh and closed her eyes as she settled back into Nick. "I really hope that's true," she started. "The part about you calling every day, anyway. I really doubt I'll ever get bored of you."
Nick nodded again, this time returning to his more usual sarcastic demeanor. "I am a pretty interesting mammal, I have to say," he quipped. "Lively at social gatherings, too."
"I'm serious, Nick," she said simply, looking up at the underside of his muzzle. "It feels like it's you and me against the world at this point."
"We're severely outnumbered, if that is the case."
Judy let out a short spout of giggles, smiling up at the fox that turned his head to peer down at her. "Not outmatched, though," she stated self-assuredly. "We'll take it all by storm. No matter what people like Hare say."
He smiled down at her before glancing back out the window. "Is it going to be alright?" Nick calmly inquired. "With your brother."
She sighed heavily. "This might sound bad," Judy began in a nasally mumble. "But he has said, and done, things a lot worse. I'm just disappointed, is all." She looked back up to him with a hard expression. "If he gives you any crap on the ride over to the train station, tell me when you call."
"It'll be fine, Carrots," Nick laughed, pealing Judy off of his side and standing up. "Do you want me to carry you down the ladder before I leave?"
"No," she smiled up to him, her ears rising to meet his departure. "I think I'm going to stay up here for a little bit to watch the rain."
Nick turned to look at the route they took to get up into the loft. "Can you get down the ladder?"
"I'm not a cripple, Nick," she smiled wittingly. "The cut isn't even that deep. I'm sure I'll be fine on my own."
"Alright, Fluff," he called over his shoulder as he walked towards the ladder. "I'll talk to you tonight."
Nick was halfway down the ladder when he heard Judy's voice call down to him from the loft. "Make sure you do!" She chirped back at him. He only smiled as he made his way towards the front of the barn, pulling the enormous door open slightly so that he could step out into the rain. The cool water hit him instantly, the wind pushing on him with a large amount of force as he scanned the area outside for the truck. To his luck, Hare had parked it only a twenty feet away, and had the engine idling.
He swiftly made his way to the passenger side door and pulled it open, dropping beside the stewing mammal heavily. Nick rolled the window down, and leaned out the window to look up at the barn. Through the open window, he could see Judy looking down at him. She smiled warmly and waved, causing Nick to smile widely back, showing off his rows of sharp teeth. He gave her an easy salute as Hare pulled the truck into life, driving up the hill towards the house.
Hare snorted loudly at Nick as he rolled up his window. Shaking his head with an expression of pure contempt as he focused on driving. "What's the matter, Hare?" Nick asked easily, giving him a toothy grin. "You were the one that told me not to take the short fall."
He glared back at the fox for a moment before turning his gaze back onto the road. Hare seemed to mull the thought over, the gears of his mind churning away. Grunting out a hollow reply, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the bench seat beside him, smacking the bottom against the forearm clutching the wheel a number of times before ripping the plastic packaging off with his teeth. He flipped the lid open so he could grab the filter of one of the cigarettes with his buck teeth, and pulled the package away so that it remained.
Nick just watched his movement, growing uneasy at Judy's brother's increasing indifference. He could deal with pure hatred, he had done it all his life, but when mammal grow into a state of spiteful indifference, there was nothing you could do but ride the storm. A storm that still raged on behind his dull eyes. Nick's attention was grabbed when he heard the flint of a mechanical lighter scratch itself several times before catching. The cab was instantly filled with the burning smell of tobacco, causing Nick's snout to crinkle up in distaste. "Must you?" Nick edgily inquired.
"Sure do," he quipped in a monotone voice, pulling a long drag off of the bundle while he rolled his window down a tad. Hare blew out a thick cloud of ash towards the crack in his window before turning slightly to look at Nick. "I'm trying to ignore the fact that I can smell my sister on you."
Nick watched the glare the rabbit gave him falter somewhat, observing Hare turn back to the road awkwardly to pull another drag off of the burning ember. The cab fell into silence after that. Hare focused on driving, though Nick could see the thoughts race across his eyes, the storm giving way to a consideration throughout their journey towards the train station. You only just got your very first rabbit that can tolerate your existence, Nick, he reminded himself as he watched the countryside roll by. You can't win them all.
The drive was actually pretty boring. Unlike when he was riding around with Judy, or even the occasional time he'd roll with Finnick, being in a confined space with a mammal that, for all practical purposes, hated his guts was a real snooze fest. It was a lot like riding the subway in the city, Nick decided. Only this time, he was stuck in the vehicle all the way to the destination. The only thing to occupy his thoughts was the storm raging against the countryside beyond the thin windows of the truck, and desperately trying to ignore the repugnant stench generated by the burning cigarette.
Nick could feel a chilled tingling feeling in the back of his throat from the ash floating around the inside of the cab. It had been a long time since he had smoked, and the drifting embers irritated his sinuses, causing him to periodically lick the back of his throat with his tongue. He could not stand the sensation, and was glad when Hare finally leaned his hand out the window and feathered the coals away, dropping the finished filter out into the storm.
The scenery flew past in silence, Nick not caring to comment on Hare's actions, he traced the fences that lined the dirt road with her eyes. Unfocusing her vision so that they looked like beams floating in the air. When the fences broke away, he would trace the streams flowing next to the road. They slithered along the dirt path, dipping sometimes into metal drains buried in roads that led off the one they were driving. The rain disrupted the surface of the stream, sending the flow into a chaotic haze of reflections.
Enormous plots of crops stuck close to the road. Their sharp angles played weirdly with his perspective. It was mostly Timothy Hay, a popular food for rabbits. Though most of them had grown accustomed to fresh green vegetables and fruits in their civilized ways, Timothy was still widely consumed much to Nick's amusement. Mammals eating grass has always struck him as immensely comedic.
The endless farmland started giving way to small buildings and farms packed closer together as they neared the train station. For a moment, Nick thought he would have just a little more time to watch the fields go by, but he was jolted by their entry into town. A small town with a small town aesthetic. Brick buildings pushed up against each other with shaped signs lined Main St. Old iron light poles stuck up from the newer sidewalk. A lot of mammals were out this morning, mostly bunnies, strolling through the streets with umbrellas and oversized raincoats. Pigs, deer, horses, goats, even a couple sheep walked among them, though there were no predators in sight.
Nick watch the soft architecture pass by his eyes, still refusing to speak. Thankfully, his mind was full enough to allow himself to drift out of alertness and passively admire the surroundings. They passed a number of sleepy storefronts, from quiet monotone restaurants to a brightly colored corner bakery of some kind. It seemed to Nick that it was a miracle anything unordinary could come from such an ordinary town, giving him the impression that they were stuck in a loop of rural routine.
The rabbit beside him was taking a different route than the one they had used to come in. Judy had directed him to take a small road that circumvented the city, going around the populated town center of Bunnyburrow. Hare, on the other hand, drove straight through the city towards the train station. When they past a number of official looking building, Nick could see a large crowd of mammals grouped outside a courthouse, a rabbit standing on a podium and addressing the crowd further down the steps from him. There was a number of rabbits flanking him, including a pair of rabbits that looked incredibly familiar to him. They were gone from his vision before he could get a closer look, disappearing behind brick and trees as they continued down the stormy road.
The old truck turned off of Main St. at the behest of its agitated operator, complaining only with a low squeaking sound. He watched the prey animals laugh and smile as they walked down the sidewalk, constantly being barraged by the onslaught of rain. Nick hoped it would be a lot like this in the city, just with taller buildings and a more diverse species base. He knew that the riots would not allow for such a peaceful atmosphere though. In the city, the rain would serve as an irritation that pushed the aggressive posturing, rather than the relaxing force of nature that it felt like out here.
Suddenly, the truck slowed and turned into a wide lot lined with groomed trees and bushes. Hare maneuvered through the random assortment of vehicles already parked in the space, and took the closest spot to a small yellow and magenta building. It was rounded and colorful, an arched, white trimmed roof sat high on the building, iron accents lining the crests. It was framed on the opposite side by an unkempt wilderness.
The round building silhouetted by a tangle of oak and green. It looked like a barn that had been stylized to look like a rabbit, and it made a smug grin split Nick's face. The structure faced away from them, only windows lined this side. The entire thing was elevated on a sturdy brick platform, ramps and stairways leading up and under a flat tin overhang that stretched from one side of the building all the way around to the train platform.
Hare killed the engine, but did not move. He simply sat in silence, staring out at the train station. "It was because she was doing the right thing," he started quietly, causing Nick to turn and watch him expectantly. "How she got those claw marks," he clarified, looking at Nick plainly. "She was standing up for a couple other mammals over… over some fair tickets. He dragged his claws through her cheek just because she was doing the right thing."
He fell into silence looking at his paws that clung to the steering wheel. "Do you think I was doing the right thing?" He asked calmly, not looking at Nick. "Smashing his paw between two cinder blocks?" Hare turned to look at the blank expression on the fox beside him. He sighed heavily, shaking his head in frustration. "No," he eased out. "I was gettin' revenge. Gettin' even. In my mind, it seemed like the right thing to do. But that's just the thing about it," he shrugged tiredly, running a paw over his face and scratching the top of his head thoughtfully. "When people let their emotions get in the way of doing the real "right thing", doing good or even just the simple act of not doing evil, it all just becomes a big mess."
Hare glared at Nick confidently, his deliberation leaving him. The storm that raged behind his eyes had been replaced by an exhausted bluntness. "Yesterday you asked me why I would call you a liar," he started. "You asked if it was it because you were a fox or because I knew you were lying. That time, it was because I knew you were lying." He looked away, observing the storm that continued to hammer the truck, filling the car with the constant sound of a low prattling. "This time, it was because you're a fox. I want you to know that."
The cab fell into an uneasy silence at his words. The weight of his feeling given a name, Nick could almost cut the tension with a knife. "Tell me, Nick," he muttered in a low monotone. "Do you know how hard she worked to become a cop?" Hare gave Nick a cursory glance before sniffing hard. He made a screeching sound when he suched in a sharp breath through his buck teeth, making Nick splay his ears back in defence. "I'm sure you can guess, but let me tell you, I was there."
"I saw her get up before the sun to work in the fields and then study well into the night," he clarified, shaking his head at the memory. "Rabbits couldn't be cops back then, not just people didn't think they could, but they were actively barred from even trying. So, she began studying to be a defence lawyer. If she couldn't make the world a better place on the streets, she could try her best a few steps behind." Hare let out another sigh in thought, scratching an itch underneath his chin without looking in Nick's direction. "When Lionheart passed the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, she was ecstatic. But I was… I don't know. I guess I was happy for her. I just saw her work so hard for her dream, and get so much flak from every single mammal close to her, that it was difficult to reconcile such a…" He trailed off, gesturing out the window wildly as he did so. "Seemingly innocuous job as a police officer with all of the struggles she had to overcome."
Hare turned to look at Nick again, giving him another hard glare. "It's because you're a fox, Nick," he breathed out harshly. "It's not you, or being a fox in general. It's because you're a fox." He scoffed again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "She's had to give up so much already just to get to where she is now, and she still has so long to go… When I saw you two, I just… I just saw more struggle." Hare's face grew sadder as he watched Nick's expression shift slightly. "With everything she has had to fight for, every step of the way, I thought you being in her life was… unnecessary. Just one more tiny thing that she'd have to spend so much time and energy fighting, and I am just so tired of her getting shit. For everything she does. Never catching a break."
Hare let out the longest and loudest sigh yet, and melted into the bench seat. He started picking at the flayed edges of the weathering steering wheel, lowering his voice to a dull whisper. "When people let their emotions get in the way of doing the real "right thing", doing good or even just the simple act of not doing evil, it all just becomes a big mess," he repeated, a distant stare taking his eyes. "In my mind, actin' the way I did to what I saw seemed like the right thing to do. But now… I guess it turned out that I was just another mammal. Giving her shit every step of the way."
"When I told you yesterday that it is a long way up and a short way down, it ain't just for rehabilitation. It's for everything. She's been taking the long way since the day she was born, and it seems like every other mammal is just dandy with taking the short trip down, including me."
Hare looked at Nick finally, giving him an exhausted smile. "I don't need to follow you, Nick. I'm already down here. I guess I never really left, if that spat in the barn is anything to go by." He laughed at himself, glancing out the window before continuing in a barely audible whisper. "She ain't got no one else to walk the path with her, but I'm hoping she does now. You ever take that short fall, and I'll be waiting right where I'm at, but I'm hoping she's finally caught a break. A break that might make it harder for her down the road, sure, but maybe when it does get bad again, she'll finally have someone with her to help."
Nick stared at the rabbit sitting next to him blankly. "I don't know what to say to all of that," he simply replied.
Hare snorted loudly, pulling another cigarette out of his carton and biting into the filter. "Don't say anything," he mumbled out, waving his paw at Nick dismissively. "Now get the hell out of my truck."
Nick couldn't help himself and barked out a laugh, continuing his fit of amusement as he popped the glove compartment open and pulled out his old wallet, leaving the police scanner behind as he closed it shut. "Such a gracious host," he chirped, opening the truck's door and jumping down onto the wet pavement.
"Hey, Nick," Hare called out to him before he closed the door.
"Yeah?" He replied, cocking an eyebrow at the mammal still behind the wheel.
Hare stared at him calmly, his sad eyes disappearing behind a blank expression. An expression Nick had been quite familiar with for a long time. "It wasn't just because I was gettin' too old," he started bluntly. "I saw someone I really cared about get very hurt because of what I was doing. Don't make the same old mistakes the likes of me have made. All the good of that life is a distant memory, but all the bad…" Hare trailed off, rolling his head from side to side. "It'll stay with me forever. And forever's a long time."
Giving the rabbit a look over, Nick could see the seriousness behind his words. It was beginning to unnerve him how familiar the of this mammal really was. Nick had seen so many mammals beaten down by life that it was easy to recognize, but it never made it any easier. "You could always take that long way up. I'm sure Carrots would say it's never too late to start."
Nick could see the phantom of a smile reach the corners of his mouth. "She would," he nodded. "But there's some things you can't come back from."
"Do you really believe that?"
Hare looked away, unable to meet the fox's eyes. "Maybe I want to," he whispered.
Nick watched the rabbit for a long moment. "Goodbye, Hare Hopps," he stated simply, nodding at the rabbit.
Hid long sandy ears perked up at the tone of Nick's voice, and he turned to look at him. "Next time, Nick," he replied without a hint of emotion. "We'll catch a drink."
"Alright," Nick smiled at him. "Your treat."
This time, a real smiled pulled across the rabbit's face. "Not on your life, fox," he pointedly jibed, turning the engine and pulling away without another word.
Nick smiled at the tail lights disappearing into the distance after it turned back onto the main road. He stood in the rain for a moment, lazily taking in the bombardment of water. A heart breath escaped his muzzle as he shook his head in the rain, pulling his paws into his pockets and strolling over to the ramp up to the platform.
As he reached the top of the ramp, the side of the narrow building came into view. It was a ticket booth nuzzled evenly into the side of the yellow wood. An old bunny reading a newspaper sat just inside the booth. The wind of the storm brushed the fur on his ears lightly, exaggerating his plain looks. He was wearing an ordinary blue button up shirt and black slacks that rolled up against his knees and elbows. He glanced disinterestedly up from his paper. Seeing he had a customer, her folded it neatly and patted it down on his desk. "What can I do for ya, sir?" He cheerfully offered, despite his tired expression a small slime cracked on his features.
"Next train to Zootopia, actually," he answered kindly.
The old bunny scratched his muzzle as he replied, "That'll be the twelve-thirty. Should be rolling through here in a few by now," he muttered the last part out, leaning back into his chair to peer back into the building, looking for a clock.
"That'll be fine," Nick said, pulling out his wallet and handing the rabbit a pair of $20 dollar bills, having already read what tickets usually cost in Bunnyburrow the night before, at the diner.
The older rabbit grabbed bills with one hand, and pulled out a the piece of decoratively official cardstock from under his desk with another. He brought it onto his desk, effortlessly taking a stamp in one hand without having to even look at it, and lifted a wooden compartment on his desk. The dark, wet substance on the inside glistening in the desaturated light. He smashed the wooden handle down into the substance and rolled the weight around in his hand. Satisfied, he retracted his hand and closed the compartment. With much ease, he stamped the handle down onto the cardstock that sat on his desk. Lifting it up, there was an ornate railway symbol on the paper in dark blue ink. He shook it about for a second before handing it over to Nick.
"Thank you," Nick smiled at the rabbit behind the booth and taking his ticket and change. "Have you got any payphones around here?"
"'Round the bend," the rabbit replied, nodding his head around the side of the building to the platform.
Nick nodded and turned to leave, strolling back around toward the platform proper. It was a flat station, covered completely in a simply framed overhang, held up by giant carrot shaped supports. The platform floor was entirely made brick tiles, and there were windows that lined the yellow building even on this side, the only difference being a small door near the middle of the platform. Iron and wood benches lined the building and between the carrot beams keeping the magenta overhang up. Nobody else was waiting for the train. A lone wind chime hung near the front of the station, sending out a singing clattering in the storm.
He strolled over to a number of payphones situated against the barn-like building, pulling out a collection of coins he had just received from the ticket booth. The phone rung for a number of timed before an incredibly low and rough voice shot out the earpiece. "Who is it?" The disembodied voice grunted angrily.
"Hey there big guy," Nick quipped into the receiver. "How's my second favorite fox doing?"
"Nick?" Finnick exasperated. "Where the hell you callin' me from, huh? This ain't no city payphone I've ever seen."
"Oh, I'm not in the city right now," Nick answered plainly. "Point is, I need you to pick me up from Central Station in a couple hours."
"Man, you've got some nerve," the small fennec scoffed at him. "The city's up in a fit, and you want me to pick you up on the front lines of these fool's shoutin' party?"
"Yeah," Nick nodded. "That's about it."
Nick could hear Finnick scoff loudly at him from the other side. "Whatever. What time you gettin' in?"
"Should be around three forty-five, if I was to guess."
"If you were to guess?" He grumbled. "What you want me to do if you take longer?"
"I don't know," Nick breathed, pressing the phone between his head and shoulder so he could pick at his claws. "Why don't you just talk to that vixen that works in the Juice Bar?"
"Where the hell are you, anyway?" Finnick shot at him. "What takes more than three damn hours to get here?"
"I'm in Bunnyburrow," Nick replied without a hint of playfulness.
The line went dead for a few seconds, and Nick could only hear the low breathing of the fox on the other end of the line. "Aww, Nick," Finnick let out a disappointed rumble. "Please tell me it ain't so."
