So I won NaNo again! But anyways, back to the story!
"We're here!" both Bucky and Pronk say in tandem.
"So do you just want to walk in?" Pronk asks, and then his husband gives him a smack on the shoulder.
"Dude, you know we can't do that, right? The guy probably has a concussion or something like that, we need to take him in in a wheelchair. How's your head, Nick?"
"It still feels like scat," I mutter, feeling it throb behind my eyes as I get out of the stretcher. "And why is the world still all fuzzy?"
"Sit down then, don't keep standing there," Bucky says, waving at me frantically. "Sit down!"
"Can do," I say, letting my legs give out and dropping my lightweight self back onto the stretcher.
"Give us a sec, Nick, we'll get you a wheelchair," Bucky says, unfolding one from beneath the stretcher and extending the wheelchair ramp out of the back of the ambulance then coming up it and reaching out a hoof to help me get into the chair.
"Thank you, Bucky," I say, rubbing the back of my head. "So what do you think's going on?"
"I've been doing this job long enough that I've learned not to say anything, Nick. Why don't I push you inside and then, if you want me to wait with you, I can? My partner can too, if you'd like."
"That'd be great," I say. "So let's go, I'm getting cold."
"You got it, boss," he says, pushing me in my wheelchair into the hospital waiting room, finds a spot to park me, and then he goes off somewhere. I can't tell where he is because of the way the waiting room is set up, like a big U with a wall in the middle. I have to say that sitting in here isn't much better than sitting outside, though. Fall is well on its way here, and I had to guess, this building hasn't seen its heating system get an upgrade in decades, because I'm shivering my tail off here as the back of my head still feels like it's being played like a bongo drum. Yeah, I think I've probably got myself a concussion.
Ah, well, it's not the end of the world, I've dealt with worse- like the time when I was six or so years old and I decided to climb the tallest oak tree in our back yard- mind you, this was back when Mom had a job, one of the few that she managed to get and hold onto for more than a month or so over the course of the last fifteen years.
But anyways, I'm getting off track. Maybe that's just because of the pounding, maybe the cold in this whole place is just seeping into me and derailing my train of thought.
Yeah, it's probably that second one. I don't know how long I've been sitting in here, alone, which kinda surprises me. It is a school night, and although winter's nearing quickly, the roads are still clear so that mammals can drive down them safely. Maybe-
"Mister Hopps?" comes a voice from somewhere across the waiting room. I look up, wondering who it could be, and then my eyes settle on a middle-aged honey badger standing right in front of me, paws in the pockets of their gown and white mane wild. How did I not see him? her? I don't know which, the voice was coarse, but it also seemed gentle at the same time.
"Yes, Doctor?" I ask. "You are a doctor, right?"
"I am," the honey badgers says. "Madge H. Badger, if you're wondering. What brings you in today?"
"Um-" I begin, but then Doctor Badger cuts me off. "Oh, shoot, I forgot, gotta check you in first. Sorry, I'm new here, still trying to get used to how everything works. We gotta have you fill out some paperwork first, and-,"
"I'm sorry, Doctor," I say, interrupting her this time, "but shouldn't we wait for my parents? I'm a minor."
"Just how old are you, anyways? Sorry, I'm used to dealing with larger predators, I'm from the city, you see."
"I'm fifteen, Doctor, so I've got a few more years, I think. What brings you out here, anyways?"
"I can't say," the doctor whispers, snagging a stack of paperwork and a pen on a clipboard from behind the main counter.
"Why not?"
"The sheep," she, I'm assuming from the name, says. "The sheep are always watching. I don't know if Smellwether is watching us, even here."
"Are you alright there, doctor?" I ask her, wondering where her sudden change in attitude came from.
"Wha? Oh, yeah, I'm alright, I just get like that sometimes. These here are papers that your parents are going to have to sign when they get here, assuming they do soon."
"Parent, singular," I clarify. "I was given up for adoption, my mom's Bonnie Hopps, you know her?"
"Can't say that I do. You say that you were given up for adoption, though? Don't worry about the tangent, I go off on 'em all the time."
"Yeah, I did say that. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason. Would you happen to know who your biological parents are, perhaps?"
"Yeah, I do, actually, they just moved to town here. John and Marian Wilde, why?"
"The Wildes?" Doctor Badger gasps. "But I thought that they got thrown in the slammer, what, for advocating pred rights, was that it?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right," I say, my mind mostly distracted from the pain.
"I thought that those two got arrested for good… Damn, am I glad that they're out. Are they going to be coming?"
"Probably," I say, and then I see Mister and Mrs. Wilde's car's headlights come in the driveway of the hospital, and three mammals pile out. "In fact, speak of the devil, that's them now."
"Did they ever tell you that they knew me?" Dr. Badger asks.
"Can't say that they ever did," I say. "Why do you ask?"
"Because we worked together for years, trying to undo the mess that Smellwether and her cronies made. I was nearly ready to present my cure- they were on my research team, not officially, of course, but we worked together, trying to figure out why mammals- just preds, actually- why they kept going savage."
"Savage? You mean like 'reversion back to instincts' savage?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"But that's impossible. Mister and Missus Wilde told me that just a week ago that Bellwether was behind all of it, that she's been lording her power over the rest of the country, and in particular, Zootopia proper; that she's been darting all of the predators to try and keep that power and collaring all of those that won't give in!"
"Why do you think that I'm here?" Doctor Badger- Madge, I'm just going to call her- asks. "I was Mayor Lionheart's Chief Medical Officer, and I only took on more of that role after the Savage Crisis-"
"Savage Crisis?" Mister Wilde says. "What are you talking about, Nick? And doesn't your head hurt?"
"Yeah, it does, like flocking scat, actually, but I'm kinda trying to ignore it for the moment."
"I see," Mister Wilde says, pinching his muzzle between two of his fingers, and then he sighs. "I knew that we should have told you more, but, well-"
"I get it, I get it, you thought that we both couldn't handle it."
"Pretty much, yeah…"
"Well, I'm glad you can admit it, and after I get my head checked out, would it be awfully much to ask of everyone that they explain the truth to us? And I mean the whole truth?"
"Well-" Mister Wilde starts to protest, but then Judy cuts him off.
"Is it, Dad? I want to know too." she asks. "Come on, tell us."
"Fine, fine," he says, "but only after Nick can make sure that his head's screwed on straight."
"I swear, I'd lose it if it weren't attached to my neck," I say, smiling. "Come on, let's go."