It's a Wonderfox Life II

Written by BeecroftA

Artwork by pyocolaxsama

"What are you doing here?" Nick asked Clawhauser as the chubby cheetah helped him to his feet. And how the heck did you get so close without me hearing you he wondered in his head. But as he looked more closely at Clawhauser Nick did a double take. Benji looked different. He looked younger, like around the age he was when Nick had first met him. He was wearing his usual police uniform, but it looked distinctly baggy on him, as if he had lost some weight. His eyes had a worn and tired look to them that Nick had never seen before. And most ominous of all, he was wearing some kind of collar with a black box with a green pulsating light around his neck, not unlike that of an ankle bracelet used for house arrest inmates. Nevertheless, there was still a hint of the cheetah's familiar cheeriness about his face.

"I've been sent here for you, Nick!" Clawhauser stated.

"Oh, Carrots asked you to bring me home?"

"No, no, I'm here as part of your wish!"

"Uh-" That was not the answer Nick had expected. "What - what wish?"

"The one you just made! You wished upon a wishing star, and now it's come true!" Clawhauser spread his arms out, "As of now, you have never been born!"

Nick didn't know which was stronger: his confusion at Clawhauser's words, or his embarrassment that someone had actually heard him wishing upon a star. "Uh-huh, and if I was never born, then what am I doing here? And more importantly, what are you doing here? Please don't tell you're the blue fairy."

"Oh no, me being here is another part of the wish! Since you wanted to see what the world would be like without you, I've been sent here as your guide! No-o-one can see me but you!" he gestured dramatically.

"Wish. Right. Suuure…" Nick rolled his eyes. This situation had started out confusing enough, but now it was just getting ridiculous. Might as well see where this is going, he thought. "And let me guess: the city is now a miserable place and children are starving and everyone I care about is suffering because I haven't been around?"

"Yeah! That's it!" Clawhauser declared. "Well, the children starving part might be a little much, but I'm sure that's happening somewhere."

Nick looked around; nothing whatsoever in the vicinity seemed different. Same old bridge, same abandoned factory, same dry-as-a-bone riverbed. "Looks okay to me," he deadpanned.

Clawhauser shook his head. "Of course it's okay here, but wait 'til we get back to the city! It's the worst place you can imagine – you'll never believe your eyes!"

"I'm sure I won't." Nick scanned around again, and spied a seemingly innocuous bush nearby. "Alright, Carrots! Joke's over, come on out!"

But there was no answer. He strode over to the bush. "Carrots? Nice hustle, Sweetheart! Not quite your best, but I give it a solid B!"

He searched the bush, but there was no rabbit behind or in it. He strode back up to Clawhauser. "Okay, so you weren't eavesdropping with rabbit ears. What did you use, a parabolic mike? Oh, and before I forget, great job with that popping out of thin air trick! Throw in a little dry ice smoke and you could have performed at the Palm Hotel!"

Now Clawhauser was the one who looked confused. "Huh?"

Nick smiled. "C'mon, admit it: Carrots put you up to this, didn't she?"

"Judy? Why do you say that?"

"Hey, I know my wife, and I know her crazy need to cheer mammals up at all costs! You being here trying to convince me the world would be worse off without me is just the kind of half-baked scheme she would cook up to try and help me take my mind off my troubles!"

"No, I'm telling-"

"What has she got, some stage set up in the 10-7 or something where everyone gets up and starts acting out their tales of woe? Actually, that sounds quite sweet– are there costumes?"

"No!" Clawhauser was starting to sound a little exasperated. "I'm swear, Nick, it's true! So many bad things have happened in Zootopia because you were never there!"

He reached out his paw to Nick, "Come on, I'll show you."

Nick seriously considered going along with it for a while longer. "Uhh, no thanks," he decided, pushing Clawhauser's paw away. "Look, I really appreciate you and Carrots' effort, and someday I really wanna know how you set up that crazy windstorm and that wonderfully ominous entrance, not to mention what the deal is with that weird collar on your neck, but right now I'm too tired. I'm gonna go home and try to enjoy my Christmas while Internal Affairs decides my fate as a police officer."

And then he started off the bridge, before Clawhauser jumped in front of him: "I wouldn't recommend going alone! Right now it's a pretty dangerous place for foxes like you!"

Nick waved off this last-ditch effort. "It always has been; I'll survive. Goodnight Pal, see you on Monday if I still have a job then! Merry Christmas!"

And there he left a slightly crestfallen Clawhauser standing on the bridge.

But once he got back to the city, strange sights did indeed start to meet Nick's eyes. The first change he noticed was the streets of Savannah Central itself: the streetlights and shops were far less decorated than they had been only an hour ago; there was none of the Christmas cheer he remembered. Instead there were posters everywhere telling mammals to be on the lookout and assuring them they were being protected. But being protected from what, Nick couldn't tell. Several stores were boarded up, and half of the others open seemed to now be selling protective equipment: tasers, civilian dart guns, and pink canisters of Fox-Away among other paraphernalia. Emergency sirens seemed to fill the air from every direction.

The next thing Nick noticed was the change in the people: there were far fewer predators around than Nick was used to seeing, and every one he could see was wearing a gloomy expression and a collar with a glowing light just like Clawhauser had. What was going on here? Every prey animal Nick could see was not wearing a collar, but many of them had frightened, wary faces and gave any predator in the vicinity a wide berth, holding their children's paws tightly. Trying to act as inconspicuous as possible Nick weaved through the crowd, avoiding everyone's eyes while he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Then he passed a newsstand, and that when he saw something that made his eyes almost pop out of their sockets: a pile of newspapers with the face of a familiar ewe with homely square-shaped glasses on the front page, accompanied by the headline: BELLWETHER MAYOR AGAIN – SHEEP WINS THIRD TERM IN LANDSLIDE VOTE. BELLWETHER SAYS, "LET'S MAKE ZOOTOPIA SAFE AGAIN."

"Bellwether mayor…?" Nick whispered to himself. Nick tried to grab a paper, to read more of the story, but then a large hoof slammed down next to his paw and made him recoil. "You intending to pay for that, fox?" Nick looked up: the owner of the newsstand, a large warthog with a broken tusk, was eyeing him with more distaste than Nick had seen from anyone in years.

"Yeah, of course," said Nick, with practiced indifference as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. But to his surprise, his wallet wasn't there. Nick checked his other pocket, but it came up empty too. Now getting frantic Nick turned out and patted every pocket on his person, but everything he had been carrying was gone: his wallet, his phone, his keys, his police badge. Had someone pickpocketed him earlier out in the street?

"Well…?" said the hog, "Don't give me that oh-I-forgot-my-wallet routine."

Then he glanced at Nick's neck and his eyes widened. "Hey, where's your collar? You ain't wearin' a shock collar!"

"Shock collar…?" Nick asked, confused.

"Help! Police! We got a rogue predator here!" The warthog cried out.

Panicking, Nick ran, turning down the first alley he saw. Taking a turn that seemed familiar, he ducked through a hole in a fence and leapt over a large mammal lying prone next to a grocery cart full of cans, spying a taxicab at the other end of the alley. "Taxi!" Nick called. But then he saw the driver, a brown march hare, panic and drive away just as Nick got to the car.

"Spare a little change, mate?" groaned a weary voice from beside Nick.

Nick turned around, "I'm sorry, I don't have any-" then he stopped and gasped as he saw just who had spoken to him: a familiar black panther lying under a pile of blue papers. "Mister Fitwick?"

Nick inched closer, not sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him or not, but it was true: lying in the alley in front of him was Martin Fitwick, scraggily-furred and dressed in rags with a grocery cart full of cans sitting beside him. Then Nick looked around, and realized just where he was: he standing in front of what should have been Fitwick's arcade, only now it was an all-night café with the sign NO PREDATORS ALLOWED in the window. "Hey - what happened to you? What happened to the arcade?" He asked the panther.

"My arcade?" Fitwick replied, looking confused, "I closed that down years ago, when the word of savage predators got out."

"Savage predators?"Nick repeated, confused.

"Yeah, my cousin was one of the first to go savage, and so naturally me and his other family were among the first to be collared," said Fitwick, his finger tugging at the collar tight around his neck. "You must have been out of the loop a long time, that was over ten years ago."

"Ten years…?" Nick repeated in the same tone as before. "What are you talking about? Carrots and I solved that case! It was all Mayor Bellwether and she made a chemical out of flowers that made animals go savage and we tracked her henchmen to their lab and stopped them!"

"Mayor Bellwether?" Fitwick looked confused. "Are you kidding? If it weren't for her and her shock collar initiative the whole city would have torn itself apart. You should have seen the panic in the streets."

"Yeah, panic she created!" countered Nick. "And what is this 'shock-collar initiative'?"

"Where you been, on the moon?" Fitwick gestured at the collar on his neck, "This is a shock collar. It monitors your heart rate and adrenaline, and if either gets too high, BZZZ!" Fitwick wiggled his body to mimic being electrocuted. "It zaps you. So if you're a predator and you go savage, it stops you from hurting anyone. Simple."

Nick was dumbfounded. He was sure Bellwether would have done something to keep the city under her control once he and Judy were out of the picture, but never had he pictured anything like this. He shook his head, bewildered at what he was seeing. Then Nick noticed something about the blue papers Fitwick was lying under: they looked like diagrams. "Hey, what are those papers you're lying under?"

"These?" Fitwick asked, looking relieved at the change in subject, "Just some old blueprints. I had designs I never got to make when my arcade went under. Seemed better to sleep under these than old newspapers."

He fished the topmost one from the pile and looked at it sadly, "Pity I never finished this one – I guess we could use it right about now, huh?"

Nick looked at the paper, and felt his heart drop into his stomach. It was a diagram of two chairs with funky helmets attached to them, joined together by a computer monitor. And the words in the title box read P.I.X.A.R. - Prototype Inhibitor for Experiencing Alternate Reality.

"No, no, this isn't right…" Nick murmured, his eyes darting back and forth across the paper, "You built that machine! And then my partner and I saved you from a mob on your opening day, and you let us be the first to use it, and we've been regular customers ever since! Don't you remember me at all? Don't you remember Officer Hopps?"

"Sorry Pal, but I don't know any Officer Hopps, and I've never seen you before in my life," Fitwick responded. And with that he snatched up his blueprints, wrapped them around himself and rolled over on his side again, facing away from Nick.

Nick stumbled away, starting to feel more confused than he had ever felt in his life. He looked around, again taking in the sights of predators in collars and paranoid-looking prey. This wasn't right, this wasn't his Zootopia, it all had to be a dream or something. "Okay Nick," he said to himself, "You're just having a very, very weird dream, and all you have to do is get to your own bed and you'll wake up and you'll be fine."

Accepting this rationale, Nick took off for home.

Twenty minutes later Nick finally came to a halt in front of his apartment building, panting and gasping for air.

"*Pant*, You'd think *huff* this would be faster in a dream," he huffed to himself. Having no money or credit cards to his name, Nick's only way to get home had been by running. After reaching the front door and re-realizing he no longer had his keys, Nick rang the buzzer. Several moments passed by, a ringing sound coming from the speaker, and then:

"The number you have dialled is not answering," an electronic female voice crackled from the screen, "Please hang up, and try again later."

Crud, did Carrots turn her phone off? Nick thought to himself. He checked the number to make sure: he had indeed dialled the code for apartment 34, the one he and Judy had shared for seven years. Nick stood there at the door, tense and confused. Then thinking fast, he ran around to the side of the building, stopping and hiding behind a bush next to the entrance to the parking garage. With any luck a car would come along soon, and then he could sneak in…

And as if on cue a blue Volevo SUV pulled into the drive, and the caged garage door started to open. The car moved forward, and Nick on all fours scurried in behind it.

Nick knew the layout of this garage: a ways away to the right was a locked door that led into a room with the elevator door inside. As he watched the Volevo pull into its parking spot and a beaver driver get out he weighed his options: If he were careful enough he could follow the driver to the door and sneak in behind him, or at least block the door as it closed. Unless-

"Hey!" a voice called out. "Whaddaya think you're doin', Sonny!?"

The driver had seen him come in. That only left Nick with only one option. Without thinking Nick jumped up, raced over to the beaver and tackled him to the ground. Grabbing the castor's keys and just barely avoiding having his paw getting bitten Nick jumped off and scrambled for the door. Behind him he heard the digital sounds of a phone being dialled.

"Hello? Police? A fox with no collar just broke into my building! I need help!"

But Nick ignored him as he slammed the door behind him and feverishly pressed the elevator button. After a few tense seconds it dinged and Nick got on, hitting the button for the third floor with all his might.

As the door shut and the elevator started moving upwards, Nick allowed himself to calm down. This was all a dream; nothing of consequence could happen. He just had to get into his apartment, and get back to his own bed. That was how it always happened in a dream, and he wanted this nightmare to be over.

The elevator opened and Nick ran out, turning left and making a beeline down the hall to apartment 34. He stopped, panting, and knocked on the door. No one answered; maybe everyone were asleep, maybe no one was home…

Nick analyzed the door. He may not have been a big mammal, but he was a cop; he knew how to break down a door. He braced himself, just a couple good, well-placed kicks…

Wait, there was a much less painful option. He ducked down the hall, grabbed a fire extinguisher and came back. With all his might, he slammed the canister into the doorknob.

BANG! There was a mighty crack, and he felt the doorknob start to give. He slammed it again, and the knob broke right off, leaving a hole in the door. He reached in and unlocked the other lock right above it. And under the influence of his adrenaline, forgetting his assertion that this all a dream Nick burst in, eyes casting around for his family. "Carrots – JUDY!" He cried, "RIDLEY, ELLA, ARE YOU HERE?"

A light flicked on-

"SHRIEEEEK!"

Nick whipped to the side: standing at the entrance to the hallway was an armadillo couple dressed in pajamas, the female looking terrified and the male looking all too willing to defend her. Nick frantically looked around – there were no bunnies or little fox here, no pictures of them, even the furniture was different. This wasn't his apartment anymore!

The female armadillo frantically dialled her phone, "HELP! Police, HELP!" she screamed into it.

"Get out of here, fox!" her mate snarled. Then with a roar he ran up, curled into a ball and bowled into Nick, slamming the fox against the wall. Winded, Nick barely dodged another blow and fled out the door he had just broken in through. He ran back to the elevator and jammed on the button; thankfully the elevator hadn't moved, for the door dinged right open. He got in, and got the door shut just in time before the angry armadillo tried to get in after him, this time holding a taser.

Nick's heart pounded in his chest, and he mentally cursed himself. He had been thinking so hard that going home was the key to ending the dream he hadn't actually considered the possibility his family might not be there. He thought hard, and came up with one more option: go to his mother's place and hide out there until the dream ended. Ellaine Wilde had to still be living in her old apartment; she had lived there for almost forty years. And surely his own mother would recognize him.

The elevator dinged open and he ran for the front door. He had only been here five minutes, with any luck the police weren't here yet-

"Oof!" he ran into something soft and squishy and fell back on his rear. He looked up: what he had run into was a big, blue stomach, attached to the massive body of a ram with black wool dressed in a police uniform. The ram was accompanied by a white ram also in uniform with an eyepatch over one eye, and both rams looked almost gleeful to see Nick.

They also looked strangely familiar.

"Well, well, looky what we got here!" smirked the one-eyed ram, "A fox without a collar – we'll really gonna get a bonus for this one!"

"Care to show us some identification, Fox?" sneered the other ram.

And then Nick thought of it, another way to end the dream, and this way was a surefire. And if this is about to end... he thought, maybe I'll have a little fun first. Stooping over, he cinched up his jacket so the top of it hung over his head like a hood, and gestured his paw at the officers: "You don't need to see my identification," he chanted in his best Obi-Wan Clawnobi impression.

The two officers were nonplussed. "How do ya like that, we got ourselves a comedian," said the black ram.

"I'm not the fox you're looking for," Nick continued, milking the moment.

"Maybe he's on something," said the one with the eyepatch.

"I can go about my business."

"Nope, looks like a clear cut case of pre-savagery psychosis," said the black ram, and Nick could have sworn he saw him wink at his partner.

"Oh no, I just know this is a dream!" Nick stated. "Watch, I'll show you!"

And then the fox spread his arms out, closed his eyes with a confident smile, and allowed himself to fall forward. He hit the ground with the thud in front of the baffled officers.

"Ow..." Nick raised himself off the ground, rubbing his sore muzzle. He looked around, and saw nothing had changed. "Weird, that worked in Zooception."

"Yep, definitely pre-savagery psychosis," said the one-eyed ram. "He could be about to get violent!"

The other ram nodded. "Get him!"

And the next thing Nick knew a hoof slammed into his back, knocking the wind out of him. Pinned to the ground, the fox gasped for air as he felt manacles snap around his wrists.

"Gotta keep that trap shut, he could start biting any minute!" said the black ram.

"Right!" replied the one who was holding Nick down. And then to his horror, Nick felt a cold, metal cage slide over his mouth and a cold pleather strap fasten tight around his head. Raw phobic panic flooded through Nick at the feel of the muzzle, old trauma deep inside reawakening, and he began to thrash hard as he could, rubbing his head against the ground trying to get the accursed thing off. Jeers from long ago echoed inside his head, and he tried hard as he could to block them out:

"You think we would ever trust a fox without a muzzle?"

"You're dumber than you look!"

Nick continued to struggle as the two rams dragged/carried to him to a black van with the words ZPD painted on the side. Nick had never seen a vehicle like it on the police force before. Then the one-eyed ram opened the door in the back and Nick was thrown in like a sack of potatoes.

"Wait!" Nick cried as clearly as he could with the muzzle obscuring his mouth, "Yoo didn' rea' me my righths! I wan' my pho' call!"

"Rights? Hah! The state abolished Furanda rights for savage preds like you!" the black ram stated smugly, and he slammed the door in Nick's face. Then Nick heard the van start up, and felt it begin to drive, making him roll around the floor he was lying on. He began to struggle hard as he could, rubbing his head against the floor, desperately trying to get the wretched cage off his face.

"Got us a live one, eh Jesse?" he heard through the van wall.

"You said it, Woolter!" said Jesse.

Nick stopped struggling against the muzzle for a second as those names registered. Woolter, Jesse… he knew those names. And then it hit him - they were Bellwether's henchmen! Those clowns had aided and abetted Bellwether in her night howler plot and almost killed him and Judy!

"Oh–em–goodness… I'm sorry Nick, I didn't expect things to go this bad so fast!"

Nick gave a jump and whipped around at the sound of the familiar high, lispy voice: sitting four feet away on the bench opposite him, looking worried and having appeared just as suddenly and mysteriously as before, was Benjamin Clawhauser.

"Claw-hawsh-err!" Nick struggled through the mask.

"Here, let me get that for you," and the cheetah strode over and unstrapped the muzzle, freeing Nick's face. The fox gasped, taking in breaths of sweet, sweet air. He hadn't realized he had been barely breathing. "Benji," he panted as Clawhauser helped him onto the bench opposite him, "How are you doing that?"

"I dunno, I just… wish it and it happens," Clawhauser replied. "Anyway, sorry, you seemed to want to be alone so I thought I'd let you be for a while; really didn't think you'd get arrested so soon!"

"Well, I'm having a very, very serious off night," Nick quipped as he struggled against the pawcuffs binding his wrists. "Benji… what's going on here? And why can't I wake up from this crazy dream?"

"Dream? You mean you don't think this is a joke anymore?" Clawhauser asked.

"Of course not! Not even Carrots can turn Savannah Central into a set from a dystopia movie like that!" Nick protested, "But seriously, why is Bellwether mayor, why is my family missing and why does everyone think predators are going savage again?"

"Don't you see, Nick? It's because you were not born."

Nick was struck dumb. "Not…born?"

"That's right," Clawhauser replied calmly. "You made a wish, and now because you weren't there to help stop Bellwether in the first place she runs the city! This is no dream…" he gestured with his paws like a stage magician, "It's reality."

Nick gaped for a moment, and then shook his head and struggled some more against his pawcuffs. "What are you talking about? Of course I was born! My name is Officer Nick Wilde and I live with my mate Judy Hopps and we have two kits together!"

Clawhauser shook his own head. "You are not an officer now. You have no mate, you have no children."

"If I wasn't born, then who am I?"

"Why, you're nobody! You got no cards, no ID, no police badge, you can be whoever you want now!"

"And just how do you know my wallet and things are missing? I don't suppose you took them?" Then Nick did a double take as yet another question struck him. "Wait, how come you recognize me? Nobody else around here does!"

"I told you, I'm here as your guide. I'm here to help you."

"Yeah, you said that. But why you? If Carrots were my guide I'd be a lot more ready to listen."

"Well, you see-"

But then the van screeched to a halt, and Clawhauser vanished. Nick stared at the spot where he'd been, unable to believe his eyes for the umpteenth time that night, before the two rams opened the door.

"Alright," said Woolter. "Let's go."