IN RESPONSE TO JBLD2: Haha, thanks for pointing that out. Believe me, you are not being a jerk. Lol. I encourage any kind of criticism or suggestions from anyone. And I already resolved the issue so it won't bother you anymore. :)
Enjoy the story, everyone!
The afternoon sun sinking into the horizon after fulfilling its hard day of work in warming the inhabitants of Zootopia, as well as providing them light, reflected off of the many buildings that were high enough to touch the sky, covering the entirety of the highly populated Savannah District in a darkened shade of orange.
One of the buildings that the sun's rays managed to leak through was the humble little coffee shop where two of Zootopia's finest sat in their booth, both staring at a lanky rat who was chewing on a toothpick, looking up at the menu that contained the many variety of caffeinated drinks. Judy Hopps looked to her partner with one of the most satisfied grins on her face, further accentuating the bags under her eyes from exhaustion.
The fox smiled back with an equal satisfaction, glancing at Duke Weaselton, who had yet to notice them, and said, "You want to let him get his coffee first?" Without answering, Judy stood from her booth, silently, subtly, not letting the rat notice them just yet, while Nick did the same. A few other mammals in their own booths seemed to notice the sudden tension that flooded the room, much like the light from the steadily setting sun. One child looked at the two officers with wide, innocent eyes, only for Judy to quietly put a finger to her mouth, praying the child wouldn't be foolish enough to give them away. Somehow, Weaselton didn't seem to notice said tension, instead keeping his focus on the lady at the front who did not dare even glance at the two officers getting into their positions. Nick walked over to the door, leaning against the cool, smudge-free glass, his arms crossed patiently.
Judy, meanwhile, finally discarded her secrecy as she jumped up to tap Weaselton on the shoulder firmly enough to make him to squeak a bit in the unexpected pain. The moment he spotted the adorable little bunny, looking at him with a smug grin, the toothpick dropped from his mouth. But not in fear. No, in fact, he didn't seem worried at all to see someone who had nearly gotten him iced the last time they had met. He just looked bothered, annoyed that the presence of a ZPD officer—especially this one—had interrupted his activities. The rat tried his hardest not to let his face show any sign that he currently had a baton hidden up his shirt that would have been used specifically for the coffee girl to give him all of the money.
"Hello, Weaselton," Judy said, replacing her smile with an authoritative and intimidating frown. "You're under arrest." The Duke was nervously toeing his chewed up toothpick, suddenly very interested in anything that wasn't the officer in front of him.
"I don't really know what you're talking about," said the rat, smiling crookedly at the bunny.
"Oh, really?" Judy said, risking a glance at Nick. "Because we happ–" In that moment Judy had her head turned, she saw a bright flash, then darkness, then she felt cold on the right side of her face. Slowly, shakily, her vision returned to her, spotted with stars. The cold on her face was from the floor of the brewery, and her head hurt so severely that she could have sworn that just thinking exacerbated the intensity of it. Everyone who had been watching this all unravel remained in their seats, now watching the struggle between Nick and Weaselton. The fox had been expecting the rat to just try and run, leaving him open for Nick to stick his foot out and trip him.
But seeing his partner, seeing Judy get hit like that. Watching helplessly as she fell to the dirty floor. In his panic, all Nick could do was try and grab the baton from Weaselton as he ran by. Nick himself almost ended up like Judy, but somehow managed to wriggle the baton free from Weaselton's grasp. Adrenaline and anger pumped through Nick's veins, clouding his thoughts as he swung wildly at the fleeing rat, who managed to dodge the blow. Nick instead hit the door, the glass shattering at the force. Thanks to that, Weaselton slinked his way through the shards and ran, Nick following closely behind, cutting himself on the glass as he went.
Something was wrong, Nick thought as he chased after Weaselton with less speed than he wanted. He had never felt such anger before, never really fought before, not properly. Sure, there was the training at the academy, and then there was the occasional mammal who tried to start fights when he had been on the streets with Finnick. But the fennec fox had either taken care of it for Nick, or the sly fox had found a way to talk out of it. The actual fights Nick had been in consisted of him dodging blows until the other person got tired and then calmly walking away while they tried to catch their breath.
But something about seeing his partner get hit so mercilessly. Something snapped in him. Something triggered the protective part of him that hated to see those he cared about get hurt. It wasn't unlike when Bogo had tried to strip Judy of her badge the night Mr. Manchas had chased them. But that was just verbal. This had been a physical attack. A blow that left a sickening popping noise that probably still echoed in the shop. He hadn't even gone to her to check if she was okay. He had just immediately gone after Weaselton. He was sure he would get an earful of that later. But right now, the last thing he needed was another friend in the hospital.
The image of Judy falling, of that smile disappearing as she dropped to the ground as if her small body had turned to cement, had him running faster and faster until he tackled Weaselton to the ground, snarling despite himself in the rat's face. Something made Nick almost get off of Duke. He had a terrified look on his face when he saw Nick's bared teeth, his wild eyes. A shiver through Nick's spine. The rat was already a coward, but his fear reminded him a bit too much of Judy's fear when he pretended to snarl at her at the conference. When, in his dream, he…
Nick shook off the anger, handcuffing and practically throwing the rat into the police car when they reached it. Weaselton didn't even try to fight that time. All Nick could think about was his partner. And once the door slammed behind Weaselton, after making extra sure the doors were locked, Nick threw himself through the door of the coffee shop to make sure his partner was okay. He still had some adrenaline in him, but seeing the broken glass reminded him that he had been cut in several places, as well as the cuts themselves. When he was back in the shop, he saw her. Judy was sitting in one of the booths, holding a hand to her head, a glass of water in her hand while the lady who had been at the counter was sitting beside the officer. Everyone else who had been in the coffee shop had run off while Nick was chasing Weaselton. The sound of the door opening got Judy's attention, and she turned around with a small smile to her friend.
Nick ignored the lady who had gotten up the moment she saw him to start sweeping up the broken glass off the floor, which Nick had luckily managed to avoid slicing his feet open with. He slid next to his partner in the booth, looking at her with worry she had never seen before that she could recall. "You okay?"
"Fussing over me, huh?" Judy joked, rubbing her head. "Other than my pride, and my really bad headache, I'm fine. Did you get Weaselton?" Nick nodded at her with relief in his eyes.
"He's in the car right now," he said, smiling at Judy sincerely. He didn't bother making a joke or remark, not with the pain in his cuts starting to get more and more noticeable. The feeling made his fur stand.
Nick helped Judy out of the booth, her head pounding the whole way, and escorted her to the passenger seat of the car. In a few moment's, they were already on the road back to the ZPD. Judy's head felt much better now that the sun was almost gone from view. The near-darkness gave her head some relief, and she looked at Nick to thank him, but even with the dimming light, she managed to notice the cuts littering the fox's arms.
She stared at him in disbelief, watching him resist wincing at the pain, "What did you do to yourself?"
Nick closed his eyes for as long the cruiser would allow before glancing at the marks on his arms from slipping out the door. In hindsight, he really could have just opened the door and ran after Weaselton, but he had been just a bit caught up in the moment.
"It's fine," he brushed off. "I'll get it bandaged up with the first aid at the precinct." And that was the end of it. Nick tried not to let himself think about how he had gotten so caught up in getting Weaselton that he'd lost his head, or the fact that the criminal, sitting silently in the back of the car, staring longingly out the window, had looked at him with fear. It made Nick fear for himself, for who he was. The years he had spent perfecting that unyielding personality, that unbreakable smile, the confident nature that could not falter. He was shattering into the old Nick Wilde, the vulnerable Nick Wilde crying against the staircase. Weak. That word hit Nick hard. Weakness was something the fox could not afford, not even if it was for someone as special to him as Judy.
She had already seen so much of his true self. He couldn't afford to slip anymore. He wouldn't, for Judy's sake, and his own.
Weaselton flinched as Chief Bogo slammed his fist into the cool metal table that separated them from each other. Nick and Judy stood in the other room, watching from the one way mirror. Judy had her arms crossed, watching every move Weaselton made, examining anything he did that might reveal any sort of clue. That was something she had been taught at the academy. Always be prepared. And after her mistake at the coffee shop, she couldn't allow herself to let her guard down again. Nick simply stood next to her, his face calmer than ever, hands in his pockets, and his arms covered in bandages from the cuts. Not only had he practically shredded his arms on the glass, but he had to remove pieces of glass from his arm as well.
Officer after officer offered to help the fox out, but he'd retorted with a different joke every single time, all the while removing the glass and wrapping the bandages himself. Judy had yet to try and confront him on what had happened when she had fallen, when he had chased down the rat. She hadn't been unaware of how quiet Weaselton had been on the way to the precinct. And as he proved to her, he wasn't the type to go quietly. Ever. Bogo was giving daggers at the rat as Weaselton tried to keep his face steady.
"Who hired you to rob that store?" Bogo asked, leaning over the table, clenching the side of it as if trying to remind himself that it was not in his best interests to attack the rat.
"I told you, cop, I never saw his face. All I know is that he was a dude, and his voice was weird. That's all I got for ya." Weaselton leaned back in his chair, nervously glancing at the window, as if scared that Nick would come into the room and snarl at him again. To be fair, it would probably make him talk more, but he wasn't very keen on the idea of anyone finding out that he had lost his temper. Bogo stopped leaning against the table, standing up way too straight, his arms crossed as he lost himself in thought. It was a good minute before the chief sighed and signaled for Fangmeyer and Delgato to take him to his cell. Once Weaselton was out of sight, Bogo walked into the room that Nick and Judy stood patiently in.
"Why is it that everyone says the same thing about this criminal? Strange voice, very smooth. Never seen the face. That's all we seem to be able to get from anyone. We're getting nowhere with this case, and if this smooth talking freak is able to convince Mr. Big's men to rebel against him, then we've really got a problem. I don't know how the media hasn't gotten a hold of all of this. If we don't catch this guy fast, then who knows who he'll take next. What he'll do." He didn't show it, and probably never would, but Bogo was a bit afraid. Afraid that his men would rebel against him? Hopefully not.
"We'll find him, Chief. I know we will," Judy said, that determined twitch in her nose. Bogo stared at her, and Nick smiled.
"I'm certain that you and Wilde will solve this case eventually, Hopps. I just hope you do it soon. I'm going to my office to see if I can gather up anything else. You two look tired, you should both get some rest. You're dismissed." And Bogo was out of the room just like that.
One of the things Judy had noticed about the chief was that he seemed a bit more rested than he had earlier. That was a comforting thought, comforting enough that her smile was genuine as she shot it to her partner.
"So, what now, Mr. Wilde?" asked Judy as she leaned against the wall, trying not to glance at the bandages on his arms.
"Well, Ms. Hopps. I would love to watch that movie that we were never able to meet up for."
Judy's smile grew, and she dipped her head in a light bit of laughter, "I would love that, Nick." Nick seemed satisfied with himself as he opened the door for her and walked with her to the exit of the precinct, one of his hands still in his pocket, thumbing his lucky tie that he had moved from his back pocket to his front one before Judy had tried to confront Weaselton. And after what had happened this evening, he was pretty certain that hand would be in his pocket the whole night, feeling the tie that kept him calm.
"To my apartment," said Nick as they both walked out of the precinct, letting the cool night air brush across their faces. The fox especially enjoyed it, as it managed to calm the sharp pains in his arms if only temporarily. They walked down street after street, their fur providing enough warmth for them to not be bothered by the temperature. But Nick almost wanted to get closer to Judy, just to get a little bit of extra warmth...and Judy wanted to do the same to him. But neither moved for their own reasons. Nick didn't want to seem dependent on the bunny, not after what he'd done to Weaselton for her. And Judy still felt uncomfortable about the thoughts that had entered her head when she had seen Nick comfortably sleeping in his seat in the cruiser. But it wasn't awkward as they made it to Nick's apartment door.
Judy, even though she knew it was just another apartment, was excited to see Nick's. She wondered if he kept it neat, or if it was a mess that she would have to clean up. Whatever was behind the smooth wooden door, she didn't know, but that was what was so exciting to her.
Nick seemed to notice this as he reached for his keys, smiling as he said, "Nervous, Carrots?"
"Me? Of course not," Judy blocked, but Nick still decided to drive her crazy by going noticeably slower in his task of finding his keys. But once he had decided that he'd had enough fun torturing his partner, Nick opened the door, revealing to Judy a quite nice apartment. Not only was it neat, as far as she could tell, it had some nice stuff in it. A flat-screen T.V that was hooked up to surround sound speakers was the first to greet her. Then the speaker Nick used for his music. Then the fox himself, walking towards his bedroom with Judy trailing behind him. But as Judy rounded the corner to Nick's room, her excitement fell, and that was when she saw the mess in the fox's room. Clothes everywhere, empty pizza boxes—and blueberry cartons, and coffee cups—littered the floor. But whatever it was Nick had gone into his room for, he had finished doing quite quickly, because as Judy was walking in, the fox was walking out, clapping his hands together in determination.
"Ready to watch a movie?" asked the fox as he opened a cabinet under his T.V, revealing the many movies he had lined up. Judy looked at each movie with care, curious about what her partner's taste in entertainment was. She realized in that moment that she was acting a bit obsessive over all of this, but the fox had just let her into his apartment. He had practically opened up everything about himself to her, and she wanted to learn. Judy managed to pick out a comedy movie Nick had, deciding that having a laugh in these times wasn't the worst of ideas. Nick didn't hesitate—or even look at what movie Judy had chosen—as he put the disk in the D.V.D player, and walked to his kitchen to make some popcorn, leaving Judy to just sit on the couch and wait, and be happy that she was finally able to do something with her partner that wasn't dangerous...for once.
The morning sun's attempt to shine through the curtained windows in Nick's kitchen carried over into the living room, giving the entire apartment a warm, homey glow. Nick blinked himself awake, rubbing some of the crust out of his emerald eyes, and looked over at Judy, sleeping peacefully on the couch with a blanket securely wrapped around her. The empty popcorn bowl lay in the middle of the coffee table that the fox had his feet propped up on, and the kernels and dropped pieces of popcorn—from Nick's hilarious attempt to throw them in the air and catch them with his mouth—scattered the floor beneath him. With a stretch, a yawn, and a pop of his back, the fox got up from his spot on the couch and took the bowl in his hand, throwing the scattered popcorn into it before setting it down in the sink to be cleaned up later.
As he made his way to his room to get some more comfortable sleep, he took his phone out of its place in his pocket and checked the time: 12:00. He simply shrugged at what his phone screen told him, not surprised he had overslept. As for Judy, well, after the hit in the head she had taken, maybe sleeping a little longer was something her body had told her she needed. Nick was fairly certain that he and Judy weren't required to go to work today. Bogo had said that he wanted them to rest, so it probably wasn't a bad idea to rest for the rest of today as well.
Nick walked into his messy room and collapsed on his bed, embracing the cool sheets and feeling the comforting heaviness that sleep brought upon him. It only felt like he'd been asleep for seconds before he felt someone shaking him awake.
"Nick," whispered the voice. "Nick." The fox slowly opened his eyes to glare at the bunny who'd had the nerve the shake him awake from such a peaceful slumber. But after what she said next, he wasn't sure he was that tired anymore. "You're appointment is in half an hour, we need to get going." His fur prickled at the thought of having to talk to this—what was her name again?—Mona, and discuss his problems with her. The mere thought of it made his heart beat a bit harder in his chest.
"Right," he said, hoping that he was somehow in a dream. "I guess we should." Judy was still wearing her police uniform, as she had forgotten to bring her own set of clothes—Nick's were too big for her—and Nick looked down at the blue jeans and black button-up he had changed into, his police uniform hanging from his bedroom door. "Do you want to swing by your apartment to change into some new clothes?"
Judy crinkled her nose in thought, "I guess not. I mean, this uniform is practically a second skin. I'll change later."
"Okay," said the fox, standing up while rubbing his eyes again. "So, I guess we should get going, then, huh?"
Nick stepped out of the taxi that had brought them to the small, humble building that stood before him. Judy was at the driver's window, trying to scrounge up the money to pay him for his service, and Nick just scanned the building with his eyes. There was a garden in the front of it, filled with many colorful flowers and plants. It all practically screamed in welcome to the fox as wind blew through them, swaying them in such a way that they looked as if they were waving at him and the bunny that had joined his side while the taxi drove off.
"Nervous?" she asked the fox, looking for any sign of regret or anger that he had allowed himself to be put into this mess. But honestly, before Judy had asked him, Nick would've been able to say that he wasn't very nervous. But he would have to reveal himself to a stranger. A professional stranger, yes, but a stranger nonetheless. So that one question had officially ruined any chance of confidence Nick had in going to this therapist.
"What, me?" Nick asked, putting his hands offendedly to his chest, trying to mimic Judy's response to that same question he'd asked her the night before. "I'm never nervous." A terrible response to her question, Nick realized, when Judy's face fell just slightly. His hand found its way into his pocket before he could even think about it, feeling his lucky tie once again. "Maybe a little." He added for Judy's sake.
"Well, we can't just stand out here forever. Let's go in." There was no room for argument in Nick's mind as he was looking around nervously, as if hoping nobody would see him enter such a building. But he gathered up whatever bravery he could and walked inside, Judy holding the door open for him, much to his embarrassment.
The moment he walked in, the smell of cinnamon flooded his nose. It actually made his stomach grumble in response, reminding him that he had skipped breakfast. There was an antelope standing behind a desk that looked down at his papers the moment he saw Nick.
"You must be...Nick Wilde. Is that correct?"
"I surely hope so, or else I've been using a false name my whole life," Nick had that sly smile on his face as he ignored Judy's attempt to elbow his stomach as a way of reminding him to behave, and leaned against the desk in front of the male antelope. But the antelope was laughing at Nick's joke, and politely ushered them into Dr. Mona's office, finally suppressing his giggles enough to walk away silently after opening the door. When they walked into the room, they were greeted by a gray leopard with fierce, yet kind eyes. She grew a warm smile on her face when she saw Nick.
"Hello, Mr. Wilde," she said, the warmth in her smile travelling up into her eyes. "Please, take a seat." She gestured to a very uncomfortable looking leather couch, which Nick promptly sat on, already looking for something to use as a way to distract her from her job. "How are you doing?"
"Pretty good," Nick responded, scooting over a bit so Judy could have room to sit next to him.
"And who is this?" Dr. Mona asked, her head tilting to the side. Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, now I remember. The uniform is what really gives it away. You are Judy Hopps, the one who solved the nighthowler case. That was a very strange catastrophe. If it wasn't for you, I would've been out of business. After people thought us predators were going savage, nobody wanted to be in an appointment with me, except for some predators that did come in. Prey seem to be the majority of my clients." Dr. Mona seemed to be talking more to herself than to Judy, but she shook it off quickly, continuing. "So, Mr. Wilde, I was told by Dr. Sheldon that you have anxiety. Yikes, I have a cousin with that, you know. The worst part about something like that is that people don't treat it as seriously as they should. It's as if the mammals of Zootopia think that anxiety is just being nervous, but the disorder is quite severe. Anyway, I'm rambling, my apologies. So, Mr. Wilde–"
"Call me Nick," said Nick simply, his arms crossed, which Dr. Mona seemed intrigued by. Her curious nature made Judy feel a bit intimidated by her, as if she could read everything about Judy just by looking at her. She could only wonder how Nick was feeling.
"Well, Nick, would you like to tell me when you first noticed this anxiety?"
"Its fuzzy," Nick said. "I can't really remember when it started." Judy didn't show her surprise at Nick. What had she been expecting? For him to completely ignore everything she said? Well, yeah, actually. But Nick had just answered her question. It was simple, straightforward. It was something, which was way better than Judy's usual share of nothing.
"Do you know what could have caused it?"
"Not really."
"Not really?"
"Not at all."
"Mr. Wilde, I understand that you aren't very excited to be talking to me about this kind of stuff. I can see that you're a bit uncomfortable about being here. But I can't help you if you don't let me. Please, Mr. Wilde. Give me a chance." Nick looked at her with no change in his demeanor, and for the longest, Judy thought that he would just forever stay in that pose of having his arms and legs crossed. But, after a few more seconds of bitter silence, Nick finally unfolded his legs, then his arms, then leaned against the edge of the couch with his elbow in a more comfortable position. "Thank you."
"Ask away, Doc." Judy glanced nervously at the fox, hoping that he didn't have another tricky plan up his sleeve.
"Now, I'll ask again. Do you know what could have caused it? You're anxiety, I mean." A long sigh from Nick, and he looked down at the floor, as if begging it to save him from this horrible nightmare. So, he took a nice long breath, and let it out. He told the story he had told Judy. The same old thing about being beaten at the cub scouts, the muzzle—he had shivered when he'd mentioned it, and Judy had to remind him she was there with a light touch on the hand. Throughout the entire thing, Dr. Mona encouraged Nick to look her in the eyes to avoid having to relive the experience. Admittedly, Nick didn't feel as terrible as he had when he'd told Judy this same story. It was still awful to talk about, though.
But when Nick had finished his story, finished talking about the cub scout story, he paused for a moment, looked down at the ground, and then continued. Went on to some other story that Judy had never heard. Dr. Mona's request to look her in the eyes fell on deaf ears as Nick told his next story.
Nick was standing in front of his apartment door, a mere teenager once again, his hand on the warm knob, exhausted from his day at school. But he heard someone, a voice. A voice he hadn't heard since he was so young, so fragile. A male voice.
Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. His sleepiness gone as if it had never existed, Nick flung the door open to greet the male he hadn't seen for years. To finally be able to speak to him in a voice he could understand. But when the door flung open, and Nick ran in ready to hug his father, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was his mother, leaning on the kitchen table for support, her other hand over her mouth, sobbing quietly. And a man, trying his best to comfort her, but this man was not a fox, he was not his father. The man attempting to stop Nick's mother's sobs looked over at the teenage fox with sympathy beyond what Nick thought was possible.
"You are Nick Wilde, yes?" asked the man. Nick knew what was happening then. This man was here to arrest him. An undercover cop, perhaps, and he had seen Nick and Finnick pulling off one of their more recent scams. The man had no scorn, though, no authority. He had sadness in his voice, the voice of someone who had bad news. Nick didn't respond to the question, too busy trying to analyze the situation, but it seemed that he didn't need to because the man took his silence as a yes. "Come here, son." That word. Son. It hit Nick harder than it should have. Some small part of him, the small, childish part of him, the part that hoped that his dad would come back home, had thought that the male voice was the fox that had helped bring him into the world.
Still, Nick walked closer, keeping a close eye on his mother whose shoulder was being comfortingly touched by the man. He had been protective of her for as long as he could remember. It was part of the reason that he scammed and stole in the first place. A good chunk of his cut would always go to her, though she didn't know it as far as he could tell. She made a livable wage from her job as a waitress. As much as she tried to hide it from her son, her job was definitely hard on her. Hard enough that she was too tired most of the time to notice that she had an extra hundred dollars in her purse, only assuming that someone had sympathized with her enough to give a large tip and that she just hadn't noticed.
When Nick was closer to the man, the lion put a heavy hand on his small shoulders, "When was the last time you saw your dad, son?"
Nick glanced at his mother, who was trying to compose herself, and said, "Not since I was a very small cub." It wasn't a lie. He hadn't seen his father since he was barely able to walk properly. He just refused to say that he remembered more about his father besides just having one. He remembered the warm smile that could charm anyone into being his friend, the sparkling green eyes that he had been so lucky to inherit, and even the humor.
"Do you remember anything about him?" asked the lion, looking Nick in the eyes now.
"No, sir," he said, keeping his eyes from showing any sign of a lie. Nick managed to get a closer look at the suit and tie that he wore.
The lion held his hand out, "Lionheart. Leodore Lionheart." All Nick needed was that one glance at the lion's paws. Smooth, soft. The paws of a lion that hadn't done an honest day's work in his life. Nick stared at it longer than he should have before shaking his hand, although still disappointed that it wasn't the male he had been expecting. And the questions about his father didn't make him much of a fan of this guy either. "I'm–"
"The mayor's son, I know," Nick said, his voice a bit colder than he intended. Yes, Nick was a hustler, and he also had the smooth, unworked hands of a thief, but this man was a politician, another pawn in the grand scheme of this "utopia". And Nick didn't like that in the slightest.
"Yes, well, I wanted to talk to you about your father, son."
"With you calling me son so much, I'm starting to wonder if you are my father." Lionheart would have taken Nick seriously had the fox not plastered a sly smile on his face after the comment, a smile that he had been working on for a while to perfect so that charming people would get a bit easier.
Lionheart didn't even allow himself a small chuckle at Nick's little joke, but instead kept his face somber. "Listen, Nick. Your father...he was in a car crash, son. He...he didn't make it." Following that, Lionheart continued to talk about how sorry he was that it happened, and how he would do anything he could to help his family. But all Nick could remember doing was shaking his head no.
"Why are you telling me this? Why not let the police do it?"
"Chief Bogo isn't very personal about things like this. I figured something like this would be made just a little bit easier by a gentler voice."
"Yeah, well, thanks and all, but I think it's time for you leave." Lionheart looked at the stone cold fox teen before him, surprised at how much of an adult he really was. This fox before him must have had to grow up pretty fast, and Lionheart felt for him. He breathed another apology for their loss, and left the apartment without another word.
Nick was left in the room, his mother walking slowly to her room to sob even more for her lost husband. And Nick. He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know what to think. He didn't even know if he was alive at the moment. All that ran through his mind was the image of a wrecked car he had passed by days ago, the car too smashed up to recognize that it was his father's, not that he would have remembered it anyways.
If Nick had been curious enough to join the crowd of onlookers, he probably would have seen his father. Maybe he would have even been able to say goodbye. That image flashed in his mind so strongly it was as if he were there again, walking passed that wrecked car, a thick wad of cash in his back pocket from the day's hustle. Had he known that it was his dad, he might not have scoffed uncaringly at the scene and continued walking.
The room was coated in such a thick silence that even if a fire alarm went off no one would hear it. Nick had sat there and spilled that awful story. Judy had never questioned why he never mentioned his father. Why he'd only ever talked about his mother. Judy had tears streaming down her cheeks at the terrible things Nick had been through. And the whole time, despite the therapist's attempts to get him to look her in the eyes, Nick remained staring at the ground. Judy wondered if he was reliving that moment again. If she should shake him out of the terrible flashback he was probably experiencing.
But the therapist cleared her throat, an honest attempt to clear her voice, but also an attempt to get Nick's attention. Luckily, the fox managed to snap out of it, and he looked around at Judy and the therapist, his eyes wide in surprise. Judy heard him mumble something to himself, but was unable to catch what it was.
"Nick," said the therapist. "Nick." He looked at her, utter terror on his face. "I'm very proud of you for opening up and sharing this with me. I want you to know that this was a very vital key to opening the doors of recovery. But for now, I think you've had enough for today. Why don't you go home, relax, and get some good sleep. I want you to come back for another appointment in a few days, okay?" It was as if she had spoken to a wall. Nick made no movement, no sound, no indication that he was even there anymore. Judy realized then what was happening. The same exact thing that happened when Rick had been poisoned. She was losing him.
"Nick," Judy said, reaching a comforting arm to his shoulder. The moment her hand made contact, he flinched. Shied away from her as if she were about to strike him. Then, as if he had gained some new, unknown purpose, Nick stood from the couch and burst out of the room, not even bothering to slam the door behind him. Judy looked at the therapist, who had not been expecting that of all things to happen, and ran out after her friend.
But, just like when he'd tried to get away from her after the pawpsicle hustle, he simply disappeared, as if he had gained some sort of unnatural speed and zoomed away. Judy went straight to the man at the desk and asked him which way her friend had gone, but he didn't know, saying that he did see the fox run out, but not where he went. Judy, her ears flattening against her back, ran out the door and frantically looked around, trying to catch even a glimpse of her friend so that she could just speak to him. What she was going to say, she didn't have a clue, but she just wanted to be with him. To make sure he was going to be okay. She couldn't help but keep the thought in her mind of the last time Nick had stormed out of a place. She didn't want to just sit at her apartment and do nothing. The last thing she wanted was for Nick to be crying against a set of stairs, his face barely visible in the light of the street lamps. Just like he had when he was a cub.
She shuddered at the thought, and continued her search for the red fox. The story he told was imprinted in her mind, as if Nick had branded her brain with the words he had spoken. The hopeless tone, his obliviousness of the therapist trying to get him to look her in the eyes, and then storming out in anger, or maybe confusion. But as Judy peeked around a few street corners, she realized that she wasn't going to find Nick until she calmed down and actually thought. The last time she had to find Nick, she'd searched underneath that bridge near that abandoned warehouse. It wasn't very likely that Nick would go there since she knew about it, but...well, Judy would just have to try going there first. She just hoped, as she tried to flag down a taxi to go to the bridge, that her friend would be okay. He'd been through too much to just try to deal with his problems alone, not after he'd done it for so long.
Aw! Poor Nick. I'm SO sorry it's taken me so freakin' long to post another chapter, but with school, and also other writing projects I've been working on, things have just been hectic. As always, constructive criticism is always welcome! See you guys in the next chapter!