It was still early in the morning. Across town, Judy was staring into her bathroom mirror.

She had just finished a grim new morning ritual. After getting the hole in her ear patched, the nurse had advised her apply a fresh bandage every day. The bleeding had long since stopped. But Judy kept doing it. She would remove the unsullied bandage and wrap a new one around her ear, going by touch alone. She only checked her work in the mirror when the bandage was in place, obscuring the notch from view.

She didn't want to look at it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

But this morning she had run out of bandages – something she had only realized as she tossed her last one in the garbage. She had meant to get more, but missed her chance. Last night she had caught sight of a drugstore and was about to go in when she heard a scream from a nearby alley. After that, it slipped her mind.

She had contemplated ducking out to the nearest pharmacy – it was only a little ways down the street. But that street had people. It had eyes. It had reflective windows.

So instead – after miserably chewing through a tiny breakfast – she had searched her apartment for something else she could use. Something that she could wrap around her ear, at least for the moment.

Nick's red handkerchief was sitting on her radiator.

She had stared at it, frowning. When she came home that night, she had washed out the blood – blankly, on autopilot – and left it to dry. It sat there. Clean red fabric.

His.

She had nothing else. Not unless she was willing to wrap an old sock around her ear.

Growling to herself, she grabbed it.

It was trickier to apply than a bandage, especially without being able to see her work. But she tied it in place. Her ear was covered.

Now here she was. Staring into her mirror. Staring at her ear. Wondering.

There was a knock on the door.

Judy blinked. She sometimes lost track of time, now that her sleep schedule was so erratic, but... no. No, it was definitely morning. Early morning.

Who was knocking?

Two more knocks followed. Sharp and short. They were losing patience.

"Who's there?" called Judy.

"Yeah?!" came Bucky's muffled voice from the next apartment. "Who is that?!"

"Some of us are trying to sleep!" came Pronk's. Judy sighed quietly.

The intruder spoke. "Hopps, open up. Now." Deep. Impatient. Authoritative.

Judy tensed. She knew that voice.

Officer McHorn.

There wasn't any time to think. But Judy had gotten used to living like that. There were few reasons why McHorn would come to her home and demand to see her at this hour. She assumed the worst. The worst left her with two options, one of which was to comply. See what he wanted. Surrender, if she had to. A sensible choice, quiet and boring and probably smart.

She didn't choose that option.

She was still in her pyjamas. Her suit was hanging on her apartment's only chair, the helmet laying on the desk. She scrambled over and began to change. "Uh, hi! Could you wait just a second?"

"No. Open this door."

"I can't!" She hopped in place, struggling with one leg. "I, um... I'm not decent!"

"Oh my god, rabbit!" yelled Pronk. "What are you doing in there?!"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, idiot! She was probably just gonna shower or something!"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

"Both of you shut up!" McHorn wasn't knocking any more. Now he was pounding on the door. Dust fell from the ceiling. "Judith L. Hopps!" Belt. "I have a warrant for your arrest!" Chest piece. "Come out with your hands up," wristguards "or I will subdue you with force!"

Judy slid her helmet into place. She turned to the door, stance firm and red resplendent.

"Try me."

The door swung open and before McHorn cleared the frame Judy was kicking the chair across the floor. It slammed into him, square in the chest. He wheezed, stopping short.

Judy was already moving, leaping through the window to the fire escape. She took stock of the street below. McHorn wasn't alone. There were three police cruisers parked on the curb.

They were closing in.

She glanced over her shoulder, just to confirm that – yes, McHorn was shoving the chair aside, trying to get closer. Time to move.

The ladder to the ground was one window over. She jumped to it – and caught sight of Bucky and Pronk staring at her in awe from their shared bed.

Judy met their gaze calmly. "You are terrible neighbours. Goodbye forever, maybe."

Then she slid down the ladder.

A moment later she hit the street and ran. She didn't even know where she was going. All she knew is that the ZPD would give her nothing but a jail cell. They wouldn't listen. She was in too deep.

She turned a corner and two officers whipped around. Ones she recognized. A tiger and a wolf. They had been nice.

Judy stopped short, tensing. "Fangmeyer, hey! And Wolford! How was your cousin's operation?"

His eyes narrowed as he and Fangmeyer drew their batons. "Fine. She's recovering at home."

"That's... that's great! Tell her I said hi!"

"No."

He leapt in and Judy dodged past him, eyes on Fangmeyer. The tiger was fast, but the size difference worked to Judy's advantage. She feinted and when the baton came down she threw herself forward, sliding along the pavement. Then she was off.

She heard Wolford growl. "Dammit, Fangmeyer! She scampered right under you!"

"I am not scampering!" yelled Judy.

"Scamper back here and prove it!" called Fangmeyer. The two cops broke into a sprint. Closing in.

She ran.

She lived on this street, she knew the area, but that wasn't much of an advantage. She could probably outrun two officers. But not a cruiser. Not a dragnet. Not the back-up McHorn had undoubtedly called in.

Judy was alone in the world now, with nothing but her suit and a can of fox repellent.

She slipped down an alleyway, tight brick walls and trash cans, Fangmeyer and Wolford still behind her.

Two lions were blocking the other side.

Delgato reached for his radio immediately. "We've got her surrounded. Alleyway just north of the Grand Pangolin Arms." Businesslike as ever.

Johnson, by contrast, was still himself.

"Oh my god," he said, raising an eyebrow. "We'd heard reports you made yourself a little outfit, but wow. And here I thought nothing could make you look stupider than a police uniform."

Judy's eyes narrowed under the helmet. "Hi, Bob."

She heard Fangmeyer and Wolford approach from behind. Slowly. No rush now. She half-turned, stance wide, trying to keep her attention on both sides at once.

"Please, don't come any closer! I don't want to hurt you!"

Delgato glanced up, sharing a dubious look with the others. Johnson just laughed. "That's so sweet of you, Hopps! Unfortunately, you're a violent criminal, so... feeling's not mutual."

He didn't draw his baton. Instead he reached for a holster on the other side of his belt, unclipping it, bringing out his sidearm. Black pistol, yellow stripes. Shock pistol.

Delgato's brow twitched. "Bob..."

"What?" he snapped. "She was in the precinct for like four days and spent eight years of that time complaining that no-one took her seriously." He levelled the pistol at Judy. "Well, here's me taking you seriously. Here's me making sure I use enough force to put your crime spree to an end. You happy, Hopps?"

She tensed her fists, reading herself. "Ecstatic."

He fired.

The pistol discharged a tight bolt of crackling electricity. It cut through the air in an arc, fast and powerful. But Judy was already moving, jumping up and kicking off the wall. She was a small, moving target. Johnson fired again, missed, and hit Fangmeyer.

"God, sorry!" he yelled, but the blast had caught Fangmeyer right on the nose. The tiger leaned against the wall, biting back a hiss.

"Johnson, hold your fire!" barked Delgato, drawing his baton. "Wolford, help me pin her."

"That's not gonna work!" snapped Johnson, but they ignored him. Delgato and Wolford advanced as Judy slipped between two trashcans that were larger than she was.

"Seriously!" she said. "Don't make me hurt you!"

"Hopps." Wolford sounded resigned. Tired, almost. "Please stop talking."

He closed in, pulling back one of the metal bins –

and the other flew suddenly, slamming into Delgato and knocking him on his back.

"Sorry!" said Judy, and immediately sprang up, grabbed Wolford's baton in both paws, and kicked him in the chest. He was a good cop. She tried to limit herself, not hit him too hard. But she still brought enough force to wrench the baton from his grip and send him stumbling into Fangmeyer, who hadn't yet recovered.

"Sorry!" she said again, and turned her attention back to Johnson. Snarling, he resumed fire. Judy bounded towards him, zig–zagging down the alley and dodging the bursts of electricity that sizzled weakly on the pavement. Johnson backed up, wary of her speed, but didn't stop firing. As the gap closed, he reached for his baton and she reached for her fox repellent and she was faster.

"Not sorry," she growled, and jumped up and off a wall and sprayed him in the face as she passed.

She heard him yell in pain and his pistol clatter to the pavement but she was already running, shoving the bottle back onto her belt. She cleared the alley and hit the street. She didn't even know what the point was any more. She had no plan. But she wasn't about to stop.

And suddenly there was a car.

Not a very impressive car, admittedly. Small, unassuming. A dim grey colour, almost bordering on light purple. The car of a middle–aged mother on a budget. But a car.

The car stopped and flashed its lights. Its back door flew open. It idled urgently.

Judy weighed up her options as effectively as she could within half a second.

She jumped in.

The car was driving before she even closed the door. Quickly, but not recklessly. Just a model citizen on their way to work. The driver knew what he was doing.

Judy peered over the back seat to watch out the window. Wolford jogged out of the alleyway, sniffing the air. He glanced around in all directions, searching for red. His eyes landed on the car, but only for a moment. He looked away. They turned a corner.

Safe.

"Hooo, boy!" Judy slid her helmet off, trying to catch her breath. She was sweating. "You really saved my tail just there! Without you, I'd–"

She looked around.

Nick Wilde was driving.

He caught her eye in the rear–view mirror.

He gave her a timid smile.

"Stop the car," said Judy icily.

"Listen–!"

"Stop. The car."

Nick's hand hovered over the gearstick. He let out a noise somewhere in the region of "ffrrmmn" and pulled over, under a small bridge. The underpass was shaded, the concrete above blocking the sun. Water rushed below them.

He stopped the car.

Ears high, Judy went to open the door.

"Are you serious?" said Nick. "We need to move. You won't get out of here on foot, there's cops everywhere."

"Yes," said Judy. "All of whom I consider to be better friends than you. Including Officer Johnson. Who just tried to electrocute me."

Nick turned in his seat, eyes hard. "And you're really gonna just turn around and surrender? To Officer Johnson?"

Judy's paw was on the door handle. "Officer Johnson," she said slowly, "didn't get me shot."

Silence hung in the car.

Nick winced, forcing himself to speak. "Hopps, please. Five minutes of your time. That's all."

"'Five minutes?!'" Judy gestured vaguely back toward her apartment. "I'm kinda in the middle of something here, Slick!"

"I noticed," said Nick, trying not to sound angry, "and you got this far thanks to me. Doesn't that win me any points? I just wanted to visit you, y'know. I didn't come here expecting to bail you out of getting arrested. You do something?"

She shrugged tersely, eyes out the window. Like a stroppy teenager. "I've done lots of things. You know that. Don't know why they're only after me now. Or how they knew it was me."

"Uh huh," said Nick, trying not to sound dubious. And failing. "Well, maybe it was Mr Big. You broke into his house, after all. Sometimes he likes to actually report crimes. When he's the victim, of course. It's funny to him."

"Whatever. I'll deal with him later." She turned her glare back to Nick. "What do you want?"

Without an ounce of hesitation, Nick pointed at the handkerchief around Judy's ear. "I came to get that back. Obviously. Just hand it over and I'll..."

Judy chuckled darkly – but also drew back, unwilling to part with it even as a joke. "No, seriously. What are you doing here?"

Nick didn't reply immediately. He held her gaze for a moment, reserved but tense. When he finally spoke, his voice was a murmur. "I, um... talked to my mom."

Judy scoffed, mostly out of surprise. "What, really?"

"Yes. Really." He glared into the middle distance. "Should've done it a long time ago, actually. World would be a much smarter place if people just listened to their mothers."

Judy folded her arms. "Not really. If I listened to my mom, I'd be fixing a tractor right now!"

"Exactly," muttered Nick.

She glared. "Look, what do you want? What does your mom have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. She's got no ties to this... disease thing." He took a breath. "Nothing except the fact that she lives in this city, and I love her, and she doesn't deserve to get hurt." He met her gaze, holding himself firm. "There are a lot of mothers in this city, and fathers, and children. I'm not gonna pretend they're all innocent. But you... your weird, idiotic methods might actually be able to save them. And I can help you."

She glanced up and down, examining him. "What do you mean?" she said finally.

"What I'm offering you," he continued, "is movement. I know this city, and I know how to get through it unnoticed. How to avoid cops, the traffic cams, everything. Which apparently is something you really need right now. With that comes two options. If you want, I can help you skip town. You'll be on the next train to Possum Springs before you know it. Far away and quiet. Leave this whole mess behind."

"And the other option?"

"Finish this," he said slowly. "Find out what happened to Otterton. Find out what the hell this disease thing is. Maybe even stop it. I'm not saying that'll... fix everything. Seems like you've burned your bridge with the ZPD. But you weren't using that bridge anyway! You've still got time. You can still make a difference. I know it's risky, and stupid, but..." He gave her a smirk. "I mean, isn't 'risky and stupid' your whole thing?"

"And you really think you can help me? That's..." Judy broke into a bitter smile. "Y'know what? That's cute. Yeah. Really cute." She spat the word, dredging years of repressed anger in a single syllable.

He sighed. "Podunk–"

"No," she said. Her eyes went to the river. "I don't want your help, Wilde. If you care so much, go home and look after your mom. That seems more your speed. I'll figure something out. Without you."

Nick took a moment to weigh his options. He had committed himself to this, rehearsing his pitch on the drive over. He had definitely pictured it going worse. She hadn't screamed at him, hit him, or told him to die in a fire. But she wasn't going to budge. He saw no other way forward.

Hard as it may be, Nick had to be honest.

"Carrots."

"...What?"

"That's what I nicknamed you, the day we met." His voice was soft. "It wasn't 'Podunk'. It was 'Carrots'."

Judy sounded unimpressed. "What, you just remember that or something?"

"No. I always knew." He kept his eyes low. "I... pretended not to. Thought it would be weird if it seemed like I remembered you perfectly. Gotta stay aloof. Simple trick. If I'd already started forgetting about you, I'd come off as, y'know... cooler."

"Well, it wouldn't be too weird." Her voice was even, but he heard something else there. An edge. "Because I remembered you. I remember every detail of our first meeting."

"You do?"

"Of course I do!" she snapped suddenly, loud enough for Nick's ears to instinctively flatten. She whirled around, eyes burning. "I remember it all because I replayed it over and over, every night! Do you have any idea how hurtful that was for me? The things you said?"

He shrank. "I..."

"And then I got fired, and... and everything you said was right! I couldn't just shrug it off, because you were right! That jerk fox with his stupid, smug attitude was absolutely right when he said I couldn't be a cop!"

She bit her lip, her nose twitching. It looked to Nick like she was forcing herself not to cry. He decided against pointing that out.

Instead, she was clinging to her anger. "You want a dramatic little confession? Well, I'll give you one, and it's a lot nastier than pretending to forget a dumb nickname. When I saw you that night, being attacked by those bears, I..." She faltered, the anger stalling. She balled her fists and closed her eyes and finished the sentence. "...my first thought was, 'Good'."

He stared. "Really?"

"Yes." Her voice was pained, but cold. "I wish it wasn't true. But it is."

She took a moment to collect her thoughts, eyes to the floor.

"I had helped a couple people by that point. And it feels really good. To swoop in and save someone, just when they've given up hope... I can't describe it. It's one of the best things I've ever felt. Easily." She frowned, mouth tight. "But when I saw it was you, a little part of me thought... 'No. Leave him. Let him learn a lesson'."

"But you didn't," said Nick quietly.

"No," she conceded, "I didn't. I decided to push aside those thoughts and help you anyway. And I was glad I did. I... I felt big. I would've been justified in leaving you there, but I didn't. And that made me feel important. Heroic."

She shook her head lightly, looking at nothing in particular as she slipped into memories.

"When you started being nice to me – treating my injuries, letting me into your home, just... just joking around with me – I realized what a jerk I'd been to even consider abandoning you. It was cruel. It was wrong. I realized everyone has good inside them. All you have to do is reach out."

Her face hardened and her tone darkened and she turned her gaze back on Nick, fury quickly building in her eyes.

"And then...! And then you, you... What you did to me, the way you tried to use me! You could've broken me, Nick Wilde! I trusted you and you stabbed me in the back! I survived, barely, but..." She took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to get a grip on herself. "Now I don't know if I can ever trust someone like you again. Now there's a hole in me. And I'm not being poetic! There is a hole in me." She jabbed a finger at her ear, the handkerchief. "Right here! It's never gonna heal! It'll follow me forever, reminding me how stupid I was to believe in you."

Nick just swallowed. For once, he stayed silent. He needed this. He had to make things right somehow. But everything she said was true. There was nothing he could say.

She watched him for a moment, quietly fuming. When he didn't reply, she continued.

"But y'know what? Despite everything... I'm still glad I didn't listen to that voice in my head. I'm still glad I helped you, and trusted you, and thought even for a second you were worth my time. Because I am a good person. A better person than you are, or ever will be, or ever tried to be. That's the truth."

Nick didn't react physically, but he felt a surge through him as his interpersonal instincts caught it.

An opening.

Keeping his voice level and eyes on hers, he said "Prove it."

There wasn't much scope for her to look angrier than she already did, and yet, amazingly, she managed it. "Excuse me?"

"If you're such a good person," he said, slipping back into his con–artist persona to keep his tone even, "then prove it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop pretending you have any intention of surrendering to the ZPD, and do the only thing that makes sense. Solve the mystery, expose the disease, and find that stupid otter. I don't blame you for hating me, but do it on your own time. Let me help you."

For a moment she just stared at him. She closed her gaping mouth. She lessened her glare. She took hold of herself.

Then, without a word, she opened the door and left the car.

He tensed. "Hopps, wait!" Idiot. Idiot. He had overplayed his hand, pushed her too hard. He scrambled to follow her, throwing off his seatbelt and getting out.

She didn't go quickly, and she didn't go far. Ears high, she walked forwards until she was standing over the rushing water.

Nick said nothing. He pushed aside the urge to plead any further. Instead, he listened carefully, giving her room. He tried to keep a grip on himself. Ignore his heartbeat.

Finally she spoke.

"I will give you," she said, "twenty-four hours."

Nick let out a breath. Yes.

"That's one day to find Emmitt Otterton," continued Judy. "I'm not gonna have much more time than that anyway. Do you seriously think we can find him? Do in a few hours what the ZPD hasn't achieved in several weeks?"

"I think we can try," said Nick. "And I think you'd hate yourself if you didn't."

Judy sighed. "That... sounds about right, doesn't it?"

Nick watched her for a moment, but she didn't move. "So... what are you doing?"

She kept her eyes on the water. "Proving I'm a good person."

She reached for her fox repellent and took it out. She looked it over for a moment, as though seeing it for the first time. Then, quietly, she dropped it. It wasn't a big motion. She didn't fling it away. She just let it slip out of her hand.

It landed in the water with a muted splash. Almost inaudible. But Nick heard it.

"Thank you," he said. "I, uh... I appreciate the gesture."

"Mmh."

She walked back to the car, returning to the back seat. Nick got back behind the wheel.

Judy buckled her seatbelt, keeping her ears tall and ears forward. "Let's go. We've wasted too much time as it is. You got me clear of my apartment, but Wolford definitely has my scent. We need to start moving and keep moving."

"Aye aye, cap'n," said Nick, unable to suppress a smile. He started the ignition and pulled the car away. This was happening. He was actually doing this! He was going to help Judy Hopps on her quest for truth. For the first time in his life – as far as he was concerned – he had the chance to make the world a better place. Just him and –

"And don't call me 'Carrots'," she said. "It's dumb. I don't like it."

"Okay. Sure."