Epilogue
"Need a refill?"
Finnick tossed the empty can he had just crushed into the bin at the foot of his lounge chair and peered over the roof of his van down at Nick, who hefted up a twelve pack and shook it invitingly. Drops of condensation flew, evaporating on contact with the sunbaked ground.
"Come on," wheedled Nick in a sing-song voice. "It's still cold."
Finnick sniffed and pushed his sunglasses higher up his nose, leaning back in his chair. "I've got a cooler."
Nick huffed. "I just spent the passed twenty minutes trekking up here to bring this to you. The least you could do is invite me up."
Finnick rolled his eyes—a gesture that was lost with his sunglasses on—and waved a paw in admittance. Nick circled around to the back of the van and clambered the small metal ladder that led to the roof, hauling the drinks up with him. He shoved the pack next to Finnick, then flopped down onto the empty lounge chair beside him, struggling to catch his breath. Nearly freezing to death took a lot out of a fox, apparently. Even walking uphill was exhausting. The doctors said he had been lucky, considering, but that it would be a while before he regained his full stamina.
Nick looked out, taking in the view. Sandy Ridge was far too barren and poor of an area to ever be a popular day trip destination for the city's residents. But it did have one of the most spectacular views in Zootopia, if you liked desolate valleys and craggy rock faces.
"Don't get me wrong, I enjoy sunbathing as much as the next fox," said Nick. "But why couldn't you have done this at a lower altitude? The sun's just as bright here as it is in town."
"I like my privacy."
Nick's gaze slid over to the baseball bat tucked under his friend's chair. The sight of it was enough to temper his mood. "Yeah," he said. "I know."
"Heard you got yourself into more trouble last week."
Nick snorted and reached for a drink. Shaking off the excess condensation, he popped the top and took a big gulp. "It wasn't just me. And I don't remember the papers wording it quite that way. It was more like, Fox: Officer and Hero!"
"The way I heard it, it was more like, Fox: the Brave Idiot."
Nick choked on his drink. "Where did you hear that?"
"That annoying bunny of yours stopped by a little while ago."
"Carrots did?"
"Who do you think the second lawn chair was for? My imaginary friend?"
"I thought you were just missing me and anticipating a visit."
Finnick snorted.
"So Judy came to see you?" Nick smiled down at his drink. "She's always one step ahead of me, that rabbit."
He felt eyes on him and looked over. Behind his oversized reflective sunglasses, Finnick's expression was somber.
"What?"
The smaller fox shook his head. "I just don't get you anymore. We had the life, Nick. Minimal work for above average pay. Relatively safe, considering. And even amusing, some days. When animals left us alone and you weren't trying so hard to act clever."
"I am clever," grumbled Nick.
"But now you're running around with a fancy uniform and badge, risking your neck for citizens who half the time don't like you and the other half of the time don't trust you."
"I know," said Nick. "Some days I go to work and it almost feels like I'm doing another con. Only I'm not sure what the take is, or who exactly I'm conning."
"Then why do you keep doing it?"
"Because—and this is the crazy thing," said Nick. "It actually makes me happy."
"Does the job make you happy or does she make you happy?"
Nick flinched back at the question. But he answered honestly. "Both."
"It's not going to end well. You know that, right?"
Nick snapped the tab off the top of his drink can and didn't answer.
Finnick shook his head, either in disgust or pity, snatched up his own drink and looked away.
Nick leaned back, felt something crunch beneath him, and reach around to brush away chip crumbs. He looked around again at their little area, taking in details he hadn't noticed when he'd first come up. Half empty snack bags sat crumpled around them. A cooler over to the side still held drinks, including a couple bottles of hard carrot juice. A small plastic tub had been flipped over and the remains of a card game lay scattered atop it.
"Did Carrots bring all this?" Nick asked.
Finnick grunted an affirmative. "She was here two hours. And talked the entire time."
"I'm sure you loved that."
"And it was all about you. Granted, half the time I couldn't tell if she was complaining about you or bragging."
"Bragging, I'm sure," said Nick.
"She apologized too," groused Finnick. "Your bunny sure does like to make things awkward, you know that?"
My bunny.
"It was a good thing she brought drinks with her. Otherwise I would have kicked her to the curb straight away."
"There's barely a road here, let alone curbs," said Nick, but the joke was half-hearted. Judy had stopped by? To apologize, and win hearts if the spread around them was any indication. He remembered she had mentioned doing it, but to try and make nice with Finnick to such an extent? Was it just her personality that drove her to it? He didn't see any other partners at the precinct sharing friends like this, hanging out with them after hours. That Judy would go so far for him…
It made him recall the moment she had found him up there on the mountain. He had been more than a little out of it at the time. He hadn't even realized she was there until she started shaking him, hauling him out of the corner where he had wedged himself, unaware that by sheltering himself where he had that he'd essentially made himself invisible to any passersby. If not for her insistence on checking every last nook and crevice…
He had woken to a blast of icy wind and Judy crying his name. Her wrecked expression when he had finally opened his eyes had been haunting his sleep ever since. And though he had tried to add the memory to his box of things never to inspect too closely, somehow that one kept managing to slip out.
Nick dozed. He didn't mean to, but the walk up had tuckered him out more than he realized, and the sun was so nice and warm…
He only woke when the sun had started to set and a chill had entered the air. He was extra sensitive to temperature these days it seemed.
Finnick had put away his sunglasses and was playing a game on his phone. Without looking up, he said, "Your bunny called. I told her you were sleeping. She said she'd let you know the outcome after."
"Outcome of what?" asked Nick. But even as he asked it, he remembered. He cursed and scrambled out of the lounge chair. "What time is it?"
"Too late for whatever you're freaking out about probably," said Finnick. "She called over an hour ago." He pocketed his phone and rose. "If you're up than I'm heading out. I'll even be nice and wait until we're back in town to kick you out."
"Generous as always," said Nick.
But despite the small fox's words, Finnick didn't pull the van to a stop until they were outside the courthouse. When Nick looked over at him, his friend rubbed his nose and said, "I was heading this way anyway."
With a promise to meet up for lunch next week, Nick hopped out of the van and hurried over to the courthouse. He was jogging up the steps when the glass front doors swung open and a small herd of animals exited. Among them he spotted a certain pair of long gray ears, ringed by a familiar pack of foxes. The Corsacs and Judy lingered on the side of the steps, letting the crowds pass. The fact that they were all smiling seemed like a good sign.
Nick sidled up next to them. "So what's the verdict?" he asked. "Did they let you all off or is this a very amiable jail break?"
Robin snorted. Nick met Judy's eye, and her smile went stiff. She looked away from him. Still upset at him then. Nick felt a pang of disappointment, but powered through it by widening his grin and turning his question onto Marian, who met his gaze with a gentle smile.
"We were fortunate to be let off with community service only," she told him. "Thanks to you and Officer Hopps. Oh, and Mr. Caracal of course," she added as a tan cat in an impeccable business suit broke away from the herd to join them on the steps. "He was a wonderful lawyer, as always."
"Complete with wonderful fees," he said, handing Robin a slip of paper, which the fox took and tucked into his pocket.
"As always," said Robin, but he smiled as he said it and slapped the cat on the back. "Thank you again, my friend. We'll see you next month for Vixie's birthday party, yes?"
Mr. Caracal looked askance at Vixie, who smiled sweetly at him.
"The last time I came to a party, I was nearly impaled playing William Tell."
"More like William's hell," whispered Reynard with a snicker.
The cat glared at him. "Quite."
"But you made such a good William," said Robin, laughing. "What with your great posture and bearing. It's not easy to stand so stiffly for so long, you know. And it comes to you so naturally!"
The cat jabbed a claw at him. "See if I don't add that smart comment to your bill." He gave them all a curt nod. "Good day, gentleman. Ladies." He strode off.
"He'll come," said Craven. "He always does."
"I hope he brings dessert again," said Todd. "That pie he brought last time was the best. Do you think we could get him to sell us some for the restaurant?"
Vixie rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Because I'm sure Uncle Will would love to take time away from his busy lawyer schedule to bake for you."
Todd growled at her.
"Manners, Todd," scolded Craven as Reynard slung an arm around the kit's neck and tugged him back, cutting off the growl with a strangled ack.
"You two are welcome to come as well," said Robin to Nick and Judy. Adding with a wink, "That is, if you think your reputations can take it."
"On the contrary, I think our reputations demand it," said Judy, and Robin smiled at her. Inside Nick, jealous flared, spluttered, and died. He hardly had the right to it. Plus, Robin's paw was firmly entwined with Marian's and didn't look to have any desire in letting go.
The court doors swung open yet again and this time Benjamin Cottontail stepped out, along with his own lawyer and two dozen other bunnies—employees, fans, his legal team, and possibly even some friends.
He glanced over and saw them all looking at him. His chin went up, and without a word he turned away and strode off towards the street, leaving his entourage scurrying to catch up.
"We should invite him too," murmured Marian. "To the party."
"As if he would come," sneered Reynard. "I wouldn't want him there anyway."
"He vouched for us," Craven reminded him. "And made his head of security drop the charges against us. He didn't have to do that."
"It's called guilt. And he should feel guilty. Lousy bugger. I heard he got let off on his own case. Figures."
A shiny black van pulled up. They watched as Cottontail and company packed themselves away and sped off.
Robin cleared his throat, redirecting everyone's attention. He looked at Marian. "I have a present for you. For all of you, actually."
With his free paw he pulled out a manilla envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. Marian took it with a quizzical look, unlacing the string and folding back the top flap. She pulled out a sheaf of documents. Tears sprang to her eyes as she scanned over them. "Oh, Robin…"
Reynard and Craven leaned over her shoulder to read. Reynard's eyes bugged and Craven let out a gasp. "How?"
"Is this legit?" asked Reynard, his tone accusing.
Robin grinned. "It's the original. That's about as legit as it gets."
"What is it?" asked Judy.
"It's Carol's will," said Marian. She sniffled. "I thought for sure Marty had destroyed it."
"So did we," said Nick, eyes narrowing on the papers. "May I?"
She handed him the documents. He held them low so Judy could read them with him. Her small paw traced the words as she looked it over. "We found the clerk Marty paid off to destroy the duplicate record on file, but we couldn't find the original anywhere," she said. She looked over at Robin. "How did you find this?"
The fox shrugged. "When you work in my business long enough, you can find almost anything if you look hard enough."
"You mean your philanthropy business?" said Nick.
"Exactly. We're very good at rooting out things, we philanthropists."
"Uh-huh." Nick handed the papers back.
They parted ways after that, with Judy promising Marian that they would visit the restaurant as soon as she had things back up and running. Then it was just Judy and Nick on the steps, the sun slowly sinking behind the skyline.
Nick shivered.
Judy twitched her nose.
So Nick shivered again, more dramatically this time.
Judy sighed. "Can I drop you off somewhere?"
"I thought you'd never ask," said Nick. "Where did you park? East lot?" And he set off, ignoring the feeling of Judy's eyes on his back as he went.
He reached the cruiser first. He climbed into the passenger's side and focused on adjusting his seat to just the right angle as he waited for Judy to hop in behind the wheel. The moment the engine was on, she cranked up the heater.
"Trying to sweat me out?" teased Nick.
Not even a flicker of a smile. Judy's gaze was so far away, Nick doubted she had even heard him.
"How long are you going to stay mad at me, Carrots?"
"Huh? What?" She did a double take and seemed to come back to herself. "Mad? I'm not mad at you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Then what is this mood you've been stuck in for the past few days? The Corsacs are safe—and now cleared. The criminal is going to jail for a very long time. And I got to keep all my digits with nary a bit of nerve damage. I don't know about you, but I could happily celebrate any one of those things. So what gives?"
Guilt flashed across her face. "It's not like that. I don't mean to be…" She gripped the steering wheel as if she could squeeze all of her frustration out of it. "It's just, I keep thinking about what happened and I… How did you know you could trust Marty to keep his word? What made you take that risk?"
Nick shot her a smug look and patted his pocket, where the tracker was safely tucked, having been inspected and found to be in perfect working order. "I had the carrot, didn't I? I knew you'd come for me."
"You're lucky Marty let you keep that," said Judy. "And I don't believe you risked your life, and the foxes' lives, on such a fallible thing."
"Does it matter?" asked Nick. But then he glanced at his partner's haunted face and realized it did matter very much. To her.
He sighed and looked away. He owed her this truth. Even if he really, really didn't want to give it.
"Because Marty loved her," he admitted. "That's why."
"What?"
"Marian," said Nick, dropping his head back against the seat. "Marty loved her. And even though he grew to hate her, I believed that a part of him deep down still wanted Robin, and then me, to save her and her brothers. That was why I did it."
Silence. He snuck a glance at Judy to find her staring at him, wide-eyed. The cruiser was starting to feel overly warm. He cleared his throat and looked away.
"You," Judy said finally, "are not allowed to tease me any more about being sentimental. You bet your life on a reason like that?"
"I know," said Nick. "It was stupid. And turns out I was wrong. Marty just wanted to frame all of us foxes as no-good runaways on top of killing us. Talk about overkill."
Judy made a thoughtful humming noise. "I don't know about that. I mean, he did keep the will. And it seems like a lot of extra work for Marty to have done everything that he did if it was only about getting revenge. If that were the case, why bother with having the Corsacs kidnapped at all? Why not just find someone to finish them off and be done with it?
"You would make a terrifying criminal, you know that?" said Nick. "Thank goodness you're dedicated to the right side of the law."
Finally, a real smile from Judy. But it vanished almost immediately as she whispered, "Still. You could have died, Nick."
He couldn't argue that. It was true.
"What would I have done if I had lost you? I can't stop thinking about it. All the regrets I told myself I wouldn't have…"
"Feeling bad about stealing all those last slices of pizza?" joked Nick, but his insides twisted at her words and his heart started to pound. "Well, I could see why you would be upset. It would be hard to find another partner as great as me. I do have the skills, the looks, the street smarts—"
"The humility?"
Nick was happy to let that retort land and move on, but then Judy looked at him, her expression utterly solemn, and he realized she wasn't about to just laugh this one off with him.
"And what if I didn't want another partner?" she asked him.
The heat was up too high. Nick felt like he was roasting. He reached over and snapped the closest vent shut. To Judy, he said, "Well it would certainly make solving cases harder. Having a partner is almost necessary at the ZPD."
"And outside the ZPD?"
What did that mean? Why did it matter? Nick couldn't stuff the questions away fast enough. Certain things a fox was better off not understanding. He didn't need to be clever about everything. Some stuff it was better not to know.
But even as he was throwing the lid down on that, he made the mistake of looking over and meeting Judy's eyes.
Like that, it was over. The box and all it's questions ceased to matter. Because there, staring him in the face, was the answer to it all. Just as it had been on the mountaintop, and in his dreams every night since. And there was no way for Nick to see it and not understand.
Judy loved him. Him. A dumb, lying, smart-mouthed fox who didn't even have the courage to face the truth until being forced nose to nose with it.
Judy Hopps loves me.
The realization of it was both more incredible and more devastating than Nick had feared it would be.
If he opened his arms for Judy now, she would come. He knew it without doubt. And he could keep her there for as long as he wanted. Until her scent was deep in his fur and every animal who passed by her later would know she wasn't just a bunny and an officer, but a claimed mate. He could hold her paw the way Robin held Marian's. In public. At the precinct. In the dark late at night. A silly thing to want maybe, in the scheme of things. But Nick ached for it like no other dream he'd had in his life. And it was all right there. If he reached for her, Judy would meet him.
Nick's paws fisted. If only it were that simple. If only he could focus on what could be and not the memory of other things. Like shattered windows. Like graffiti'd doors and hospital visits, and reports filed that never seemed to go through. Like baseball bats tucked under lounge chairs.
"Nick?"
He didn't know how he managed it, but somehow he forced a smile. It was wide and teasing and made him feel like he was choking. With a lightness he didn't feel, he said, "It's lucky I'm okay then, since you were so worried about it. I'm good, you're good, and we can continue being good partners, together…"
He couldn't bear to face her directly, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Judy shrink back.
"Partners?" she echoed, voice hitching, and Nick's gut clenched.
"Of course." The cruiser was too hot. The air felt like it was stuck in his lungs; he couldn't expel it. He snapped the heater off but it wasn't enough. He needed out.
He was already reaching for the door handle before an excuse came to him. "I just remembered. I left my sunglasses in Finnick's van when I went to see him earlier. I better go get them before he finds them and decides to pawn them off. You know how much I love those sunglasses."
"O-oh. Right," said Judy. "Do you at least want a ride to—"
Why wouldn't the door open? Nick clawed at the lock. "No need. He's just down the road. I'll make him give me a lift home, so you can head out."
"If you're sure..."
The lock finally popped and Nick grabbed for the handle. The door swung wide and Nick let it pull him out of the cruiser and onto the sidewalk. The chilly evening air swirled around him. It felt extra biting after the sweltering heat of the cruiser.
"I'll see you at work on Monday, okay, Carrots?"
He pushed the door shut without waiting for an answer and staggered away. Animals who saw him gave him wary looks and a wide berth. He didn't care. He didn't stop until he was safely hidden around the side of the courthouse.
He collapsed against the brick, his whole body shaking. He could feel his heart galloping against his ribcage. He didn't know what it would do first—burst or break.
When he had collected himself as much as he was able, he chanced a peek around the corner. Judy remained parked where he'd left her. He could see her silhouette through the passenger window, still and staring out the front windshield. Then she wiped her eyes. Just one swipe of her paw. Nick looked away.
I'm so sorry, Carrots.
He realized it then: The one he had been conning this whole time. It hadn't been the ZPD or even the other animals of Zootopia. It had been himself.
He really was a dumb fox.
He pushed away from the wall. It was three blocks to the nearest subway station, and four blocks after that to get to his apartment. He needed to go before he was too tired to manage it.
Nick glanced around the corner one last time. The cruiser was gone.
He told himself everything would be fine. After all, they were friends. Partners. It was enough. The rest... they didn't need it. And Judy was a smart bunny. She would realized that herself too, in time. What they had was enough.
It had to be.
THE END - TBC...
