Hello everyone. It seems like it has been so long since I posted the last chapter, but #8 is finally here!

I hope you enjoy this installment of Saving Wilde, all comments and feedback are welcome, I am pretty good a responding to them so if you have questions or anything else, please feel free to get in touch.

I don't own any Disney characters.

Judy was nervous, terribly so. She was going to take the leap with Jeremy. She was going to tell him about what she wanted to do with her life. About how she wanted to be a police officer and live in Zootopia. They had been together for four months, and she had avoided making any mention of it, so fearful was she that it would kill their nascent relationship before it ever really got started. She liked Jeremy, truly. He was good looking, intelligent, courteous, all the things she thought she should be looking for in a mate. He was a bit old fashioned though, especially when it came to breaking the mold set out for them by society. He was a farmer through and through, and proud of it. She had dropped hints, broached the subject via hypotheticals and made up friends moving away. And he had always, in his normal, kind way told her how such a thing could never work. Moving to the big city and doing something other than farming and having large families. That was what rabbits were meant for after all, he said. Producing. Food and kittens.

This fundamental disagreement had nearly poisoned any interest she had in him early on, but she couldn't help trying to change his mind. He was so nice otherwise, it would have been a shame not to try. It was fun, in a way, slowly turning the dial from one extreme to the other, and she had taken on the challenge with a gusto. She had never gone all the way however. Told him just why she was so interested in the city. Always did her best to disguise it with an aloof, academic air whenever she brought up the topic. As if the thought of moving was simply a fun little fantasy, but in no way would she ever consider such a thing. And she certainly never brought up her desire to be an officer.

But ever since she had met Jonathan, a feeling of immense warmth flowed through her at the very thought of him, she couldn't help but feel as if she should tell Jeremy. That she had every right to be proud of herself and her dream, and if Jeremy didn't like it, well, he could pound sand!

The vehemence of the thought surprised her. It had been a long time since she hadn't felt the need to apologize for what she wanted for herself. As if her desire to be an officer was an inconvenience to those around her. 'I am sorry, but I want to be a police officer.' 'I'm sorry, I don't want to be a farmer.' 'I'm sorry…' It had been her constant refrain for years. I'm sorry. It said so much about who she had become. When she was younger, much younger, she hadn't been like this. But the constant objections to the way she saw herself had slowly chipped away at her hope.

But things were different now. She was digging herself out of the pit she found herself in. Egged on at every step by her new friend. The charming Jonathan Gibbon. The supremely charming Jonathan…

Her ears blushed, her mind had been wandering into territory it had no right to be. She found him attractive, in a sort of exotic, forbidden sort of way. It would never happen, anything between them, but it was fun to think about.

It was wrong though, she reminded herself. She had a boyfriend after all, who was perfectly nice, perfectly charming, in a different, and perhaps less interesting way…

Judy let out an exasperated sigh, this really wasn't the time to be thinking about John. He may be charming, a fantastic fox. The way he spoke of her dreams may have once again given her hope, he may have been the first mammal in a long with which she didn't feel she had to be something other than who she was, but he wasn't her boyfriend, and he was a fox. So that meant she should forget about all these feelings that arose every time he so much as crossed her mind. Besides, it was totally silly that she had a crush on him just because he was nice to her. Was she a kitten again? Crushing on every strange male she met? No, she was an adult now, and she was about to have an adult conversation with her boyfriend before she went off to visit the city that afternoon to take the test.

She was struck by another wave of nervousness. Oh, gods, the test. She was not ready, she knew that. She had stopped studying for it months ago, despite constant promises to herself that she would. And once John arrived any thought of it had completely left her mind. The aptitude test for the ZPD Academy was notoriously difficult. Lots of trick questions, lots of judgement calls, lots of long, complicated scenarios designed to weed out those who just wouldn't cut it in the Academy. There were lots of study materials available for the exam, but they were expensive, and she didn't have much money. She had been forced to settle on older second hand materials. A good portion of it was still relevant, but much was not, and she had always known that her passing was as much of function of her hard studying as it was luck.

She had been inspired by John to take the test, and had signed up in a moment fiery confidence. But she wasn't ready, and now she had set herself up for failure. She hadn't even told John, so horrified at what she had done, and she didn't want him to see her fail. She didn't think she could handle the look of disappointment she was sure he would wear upon hearing the news.

But it would be ok, she would be fine. She would pass, and everything would work out.

And so she sat, waiting for her boyfriend to show up at this roadside diner. On the one paw wishing he was already there, and on the other dreading the moment he did.

The bell above the door jingled and she looked up at the sound. Ah! There he was, looking around for her. She waved to catch his attention, and stood as he arrived at her booth. They kissed, and he took the seat opposite her. She lingered for a moment before sitting down, struck by how little that kiss had made her feel. But the moment was fleeting, and she quickly joined Jeremy in the booth.

"So how's it going?" he asked, "You've been hard to get a hold of." He tilted his head to the side quizzically. A habit of his when he asked questions. "Made me think you might not want to see me anymore." He added playfully. Though perhaps only half so. Judy had caught the hint of dejection in his voice.

"No, no, of course not," she placated. "I mean, you know how it is, what with the family stand going, and planting season. Things have been really crazy lately."

"I'm just joshing ya Judes." Gods she hated when he called her that, they would have to work on that. "I know you're busy, you could call or text once in awhile though, let me know things are ok and all that."

She felt terrible, she had basically ignored him for the better part of a month. Not on purpose, of course, but the sudden arrival of John had been distracting. "I know, I know, I just…" She let out an apologetic sigh. "I just kinda forget the world around me sometimes."

He smiled at her, his understanding and forgiveness clear. She couldn't help but smile back. That was one of the reasons she liked Jeremy. Anger seemed a foreign concept to him. He was always so cheerful, happy to see her, even when she wasn't the best of girlfriends. She did have a tendency to get fixated on things, forgetting about all but that which was right in front of her, and he had never batted an eye. But then neither had John-

She crushed the thought before it could go any further. It was neither fair to Jeremy nor the time to be thinking such things.

She returned to the present, hoping Jeremy hadn't noticed the momentary lapse in her attention. Luckily, he hadn't, distracted as he was with the menu.

Silence passed between them for a few moments. Jeremy perusing the menu and Judy trying desperately to find a way to bring up the very reason she had asked him there. Jeremy filled the silence then, asking her about her family, how the farm was, the stand, her life. They fell back into their ritual as a couple. It was really quite nice, idly passing the time chatting about nothing, simply enjoying each others company. Jeremy really was a nice rabbit, pretty darn close to the kind she had always imagined herself with.

"So, I know this might be rushing things a bit," Jeremy said over the top of his menu, his tone taking Judy off guard, "but I was hoping I could take you to meet my parents."

Judy froze. Meeting a boyfriend's parents was a big step, and certainly signaled his future intentions. There was a whole ritual involved in rabbit courtship around meeting parents. The male would introduce his potential mate first usually, and they would assess the suitability of the match, subtly giving their blessing to their son before the girlfriend left by being the last ones to suggest wrapping up the evening. Then, the female would have the opportunity return the gesture and introduce her boyfriend to her parents. That was when things became particularly complicated. At the introduction the female was expected to leave and fetch beverages, traditionally carrot juice. This served two purposes, it gave the parents a moment alone with their daughter's suitor, and it gave the female time to prepare the drinks. That was by far the most vital part of the whole ritual. For, if the female served her parents sweet carrot juice, that signaled her interest in the match, but if it were bitter, or perhaps simply unsweetened, that signaled to the parents that their daughter was not interested. And the disapproval of the parents gave their daughter an easy out to cool off the relationship.

All that said, things didn't usually quite work that way anymore. That sort of tradition was a relic of the time before dating was really a thing at all. But, Jeremy was a bit of a traditionalist at times. And this was apparently one of those times.

She didn't hate the idea, not really, though images of the fox back at her burrow began to invade her thoughts. Jeremy was a good rabbit, and perhaps if he could be made to understand the path she was setting herself on she wouldn't mind settling down with him, whatever that ended up looking like. Yes, that would be alright with her.

"I–, I understand if it's too soon though, we haven't been together that long–"

"No! No, it's fine," she blurted out. "You just surprised me. I think… I think I would like to meet your parents." She smiled at him, though she didn't really feel it, still much too nervous for what she had in store for him.

"You would?! Oh boy, that's great! They will love you, I promise!"

"We have to talk about something though." It was Jeremy's turn to be caught of guard, and he tilted his head as he was apt to do. Judy sighed, mustering the courage to say what she had to. "Jeremy, today I am getting on the train to Zootopia. I am going to take the entrance exam for the Police Academy." There was far more confidence in her voice than there was in her heart, "I want to be a police officer Jeremy. In Zootopia."

Jeremy stared at her, bewildered, totally at loss at what he had just heard. "You want to be a police officer?" he finally asked. "Can rabbits even do that?"

"Yes! Well… not until recently. I mean, technically there was nothing to say we couldn't, but it would have been impossible. The mayor recently changed the rules though, to open up jobs like that to more mammals. He called it the 'Mammal Inclusion Initiative'; I've done my research, I can get in."

"But Judy, how is that gonna work? You can't be an officer in Zootopia and take care of the farm."

"Jeremy, I really hate farming."

He stared at her blankly.

"I mean, maybe hate is too strong a word," and she looked at the ceiling hoping to find the right one there. "I just really don't like it. It's just not for me. I just think I can do so much more with my life."

Jeremy furrowed his brow at that. "There's nothing wrong with being a farmer Judy. It's what we are good at and there is nothing wrong with that."

"No, no..." She regretted her comment. She hadn't intended it to sound the way it had, even if that was how she honestly felt. "You're right, there isn't anything wrong with farming, I just don't want to do it. I wanna be a police officer… I have my whole life."

"Judy, there's never been a rabbit police officer, what if you fail?"

"Then I fail I guess." The admission made her heart beat nervously. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she didn't make it. "But Jeremy, if I never tried, well… I think that would be worse."

Jeremy gave her a pained looked, "Judy…" he pleaded, "you can't go. What about your family? What about us? Being a cop is dangerous Judy. What if you get hurt."

"I'll be fine Jeremy, and so will my family. You know how many we have now. My parents will be fine, and so will everyone else."

"And us?" He put extra emphasis on it this time.

She looked away, not sure how to answer.

"Judy?"

She could hear the sadness in his voice, and it struck at her core. She had the feeling, the terrible awful feeling that by the time she left here they would no longer be together. As if she had lost control of the tractor and was careening into a ditch, and there was nothing she could do. John briefly flashed through her head, the fox smiling kindly at her, and a small part of her felt that as long as he was around that breaking up with Jeremy would be ok, but a much larger part of her screamed out against the impending doom.

"Come with me Jeremy. We can move to the City together. There is lots there for both of us. It's wonderful."

Jeremy looked a little shocked, as if he had never even considered such a thing, and now he was he didn't like. "No, I– there's no way Judy, you know I don't like the City. And my family needs me here. Who else is gonna take care of the farm?"

"Jeremy!" she said, a little more forcefully than she had intended, "You have 57 siblings! They will be fine. Everything will be ok. You don't have to stay here if you don't want to, they don't need you. If you aren't there for the farm, your younger brothers and sisters will be."

"But Judy, that just don't work. What if we all just decided we wanted to leave, where would my parents be then? We can't just all abandon them!"

"Jeremy I am not asking you to-"

"Besides Judy, I don't want to leave. I like it here Judy. I like farming, and living in the Burrows with my family…" He was silent for a moment, looking sadly down at the table. "And I like you too Judy. A lot. You're really great, and I don't want you to leave."

Judy felt the tears in her eyes, tried to blink them back, but couldn't stop them all. "Jeremy I…" she paused, trying to stop her voice from wavering. "I like you too, but I've wanted this my whole life… I have to do this Jeremy, I won't ever be happy otherwise."

Suddenly, her phone rang, the alarm cutting through the tension in the booth. "Oh gods..." she looked at Jeremy, alarmed, knowing that if she didn't leave now she would miss her train, but also knew that if she left now she would be tearing the roots out of this relationship. Their eyes met, and a line of John's poem flitted through her head:

"Mend my life!"

Each voice cried

But you didn't didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do

There was only one life on this earth that should could save, and that was her own. And if she wanted to do that, she had to catch that train.

"Jeremy, I'm sorry, I am leaving. I have a train to catch," she said finally, in a controlled tone. Knowing what this meant for them.

"Judy no please, don't go. Please. You can't."

Judy stood up from the booth, walked to his side, leant over and kissed him. Probably for the last time.

"Goodbye Jeremy. I'll call you when I get back"

She would miss him, she knew that. She had liked him too much not to miss him. But, even so, as she left him there in that diner she didn't look back.

Nick didn't see Judy that day, nor the next. He was worried at first, concerned that something had happened to her, but that passed eventually. The mood of the burrow around him hadn't changed, his food still arrived on time, and Stu even stopped by to apologize for the way he had treated him when he'd first arrived. Nick asked after Judy, but Stu wasn't sure what she was up to. With so many children it could be hard to keep track of them all, he said. He was sure she would stop by though. She had taken a real shine to him after all. Stu still seemed a bit uncomfortable about that particular reality. Nick supposed it would be unfair to expect him to accept that in its entirety immediately.

Stu had asked him though, about what he thought about Judy becoming an officer. About whether he thought she could do it.

"It doesn't really matter if she can or not does it?" he had said. "If she doesn't at least try she will never be happy."

Stu had left soon after, his face clouded in thought.

Nick held out hope that she would visit on the third day, but as it passed by without a sign of his favorite rabbit he sunk into a blue melancholy, resigned to this new and unappetizing normal. Martha visited him though, which improved his mood, if only just. But she wasn't sure where Judy was either, and the news only further sapped his spirit.

He did a lot sleeping over the next few days, getting out of bed only for the necessities, and he hardly ate.

This time was, truly, the lowest he had been in recent memory. There had been other times in the past when he had suffered similarly, and far worse, but it had never been over something like this. The boredom was crushing. Time seemed to creep by endlessly. Judy was fun, in her own way. Perhaps a bit odd, she did want to be a cop after all, but that just added to her charm. He missed her, he realized, and far more than he would ever have expected. But that was alright, nothing was wrong about that. She kept him from going stir crazy, and necessity made strange bedfellows.

He understood that on an intellectual level, at least to a point. His only purpose at the moment was to get better. An important goal, but one which he had no real control over. Really the only thing he could do, was make things worse. So he had no choice but to sit around and wait, a state of affairs he was not used to, and certainly didn't like. He had often been forced to do unpleasant things during his time as a spy, and to get through those times it was important to do something to break up the suck. Judy was that diversion. But that was all, for better or for worse.

But did he have to sit around? Less than a week ago he had been out and about, exploring his immediate surroundings, it had been painful, exhausting, and probably set back his recovery, but he had done it. Really, he didn't need to be there anymore. At first it had probably been necessary, when things had been a bit nip and tuck. The quiet life in Bunnyburrow allowed him a chance to step back and regain his wits in an environment without the dangers present back in the City. But he was healthy enough to get around, and had been for some time. There was no longer any extreme risk of him re-injuring himself, and he really wasn't welcome in the burrow. Judy liked him, and Stu now tolerated him, but the wider community didn't and regardless of the opinions of his few allies here he was aware of the ramifications of his presence of the burrow. He wasn't welcome, and while he had never made a habit of not being in places he wasn't welcome, in these circumstances it didn't seem beneficial to either party. He was basically trapped in this little room, not quite a prisoner, but not quite a free fox either, and the restrictions were beginning to wear on him. Especially because they were totally arbitrary.

Yes, it was time to go. He wasn't 100% yet, but he had overstayed at the the Hopps home and he was wasting his time. The world hadn't stopped despite the impression of stillness that pervaded the Burrow. Things were moving on without him, and he couldn't accept that any longer. What he did was just too important.

He scrapped the coded letter he had never sent, not willing to entrust it with anyone other than Judy, and created another. "Come get me" was the essence. He wouldn't wait for Judy this time. He would regret not seeing her again, if that was how this all worked out, but such is life. That was how it always was, and so it would continue.

He fell asleep with that unhappy thought swirling through his head.

Something pressed at his sleeping mind. Something both familiar and yet foreign. He felt he recognized it, but it was too indistinct for him to place. Warm, comfortable, that was how it made him feel, the sensation pleasant even if it was unusual. Just barely, his mind rose above the fog of sleep, prepared to dive back down again if this all proved to be nothing but a strange dream.

The presence took shape slowly, a rabbit. A rabbit? Judy. Judy was there… somewhere nearby.

He was awake in an instant, scanning the room for any noise out of the ordinary. He opened his eyes to the darkness of his room, moonlight filtering in through the small circular window just barely enough to give the space an eerie bluish white glow. Then he saw her, head down in her arms on his bed. Asleep? No, her breath was too ragged, as if she had been crying. He hated it when she cried. He reached out to her, slowly, almost nervous that she would realize he was awake and then leave him, and placed his paw gently upon her head.

She flinched, just barely, and Nick said softly, consolingly, "Hey, Judy."

She didn't respond at first, did her best to regain her composure, and finally, "John."

In that moment Nick hated himself, not for the feelings he felt, but for lying to her about his name. Nicholas, that was his name, and he longed to hear it on her lips. It took all his fortitude not to come clean then, tell her the truth, about everything. About who he was, where he had been and where he was going. She at least deserved that, for all she had done for him. If there was anyone on this planet that deserved a tiny window into what exactly made him who he was it was her. But, he reminded himself painfully, the requirements of his service said otherwise, nay, demanded otherwise. He was a ghost, a different mammal on a different day, unattached and unimpeded. He could not survive otherwise.

He made to reply, but the words caught in his throat. He, for the first time in a long time, had no idea what to say. Nothing could quite articulate the feelings he wished to convey.

"I missed you," she finally said.

"Yeah," his voice trembled almost unnoticeably, "I missed you too."

She pressed her head into his paw and he realized he had been gently scratching behind her ears. To a fox, it was a deeply intimate gesture, reserved only for one's very closest relationships. The ability to hear was incredibly important to a fox, almost as important as the sense of smell. A lover, a child, a parent, perhaps the very best of friends, no one else was afforded such privilege, and even then... Liliya had always kindly batted away his paw when he had tried it. For half a heartbeat he thought he might have crossed a line, but her contented sigh told him otherwise, and it was clear that the touch, while apparently pleasant, held no particular meaning for rabbits. But then, he wasn't sure what he meant by it either. They were none of the things normally required for such a gesture to pass between them, so what did that make them? And what did it say that he had scratched behind her ears so unthinkingly?

He didn't know how to answer these questions, was afraid of what the answers might bring. He was happy though, immeasurably so, now that she was there beside him.

"I'm sorry I was away for so long." He heard the tears in her voice even though it was muffled by her arms, and he felt her shudder.

He ignored her apology, none was necessary. He had a greater concern. "Why are you crying?"

His paw fell away from her head as she raised it to look at him, but she refused eye contact, staring down at the bed instead..

"I–" she stifled another sob. "I'm a failure. I–" a hiccup, "they were right, everyone was right..."

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked, confused.

"I failed the aptitude test." She paused, awaiting his response, but noticed the confused look on his face and continued, "I took the aptitude test for the Police Academy. I... I failed." She was unsuccessful in stifling another sob, and the sound was loud in the tiny room.

"Oh, Judy, I am so sorry." He took her paw. "You can take it again though right?"

"No, no I can't. Its expensive. It's a two day test, and I have to go to the City to take it. It's so expensive there. I can't afford another trip, not for a long time." She began to sob harder, "It'll be months and m-months, maybe even a year, before I could afford to go again."

Ahhh, money. It had been a long time since he had had to worry about money. He was well paid as it was, but when he traveled all his expenses were covered by the Agency. It had been a singular obsession of his however in his younger days. Days he didn't miss at all. He had separated more than a few fools from their money back then, and while he wasn't really ashamed of that part of his past, he was glad he never had to go back.

He knew then and there that he would bankroll her next attempt at the exam, and the next, if it came to that, and the next one too. Even if he didn't have all these strange thoughts swirling through his mind, it was the least he could do. He owed her his life, and if helping her begin her new one would in some small way begin to repay that debt, than that is what he would do. He would never tell her though. She could never know.

"You're not a failure Judy," and he hooked her under the arms and pulled her into a comforting embrace. "You'll get through it, I know you will." She hadn't stopped him from pulling her onto the bed, and now she latched onto him tightly, crying softly into his shoulder. "And don't worry about the money, it's nothing. Just study hard and pass next time ok?"

"But how can I pay for–"

He cut her off, "Just trust me, things like that have a way of working themselves out."

She was silent for a moment, seemingly trying to decipher his meaning, but he didn't let her finish connecting the dots.

"So, how was the City?" he asked, reaching for anything that might distract her from her grief.

Obviously the stress of the exam had marred the overall experience, but she had loved the City. All the different mammals, predator and prey living together so closely. All the things to see, all the things to do. It was wonderful. She apologized then for not telling him she would be gone. It had all happened so fast. She had put in an application three weeks before, but had told no one. She was so afraid of going that if her fear got the better of her she didn't want anyone to know. But she had done it, and hadn't studied in quite some time. The lack of support from her family discouraging her from working as hard as she could have, should have.

Like with her other apologies Nick told her she had nothing to be sorry for, though he whispered playful admonishments into her ear. "You silly bunny, you should have told me," and "Well, I support you, so now you have to study extra hard." He found himself scratching behind her ears again, but this time he didn't question himself and instead savored the feeling of her soft fur beneath his paw pads.

A pleasant, comfortable silence passed between them, each simply enjoying the others company. Then she asked him a question, "John..." she paused, and Nick could feel her press her head into his side just a little harder. "When I finally get to to Zootopia, can we see each other again?"

It was a strange question, almost naive, and he could hear the embarrassment behind it. They would never see each other again of course, but that didn't really matter. To her, he was an officer, and they would see each other again when she got there too, and he would do nothing to dissuade her of that.

He let out a soft chuckle. "Of course we can," he said finally.

She hugged him tighter in response. "Thank you John, you're really great."

"I know," he replied, unable to help himself.

"Shut up, dumb fox," she said, giggling harder now, the sound infectious. Nick found himself laughing right along with her. Soon their laughter receded and only the warm glow of happiness remained. Yes, he was happy in that moment, though it was tempered by the knowledge that the sort of personal connection he was at the brink of making with Judy would do nothing but hurt her, and perhaps even him. He wanted to forget that, but he couldn't. The necessities of his career loomed large in the back of his mind, and he reminded himself that everything he had said and done in his time at that Hopps burrow was simply for the sake of the service, and nothing more. Nothing else mattered, and if the requirements of that service had forced him to deal with these rabbits in a much less amicable fashion… Well… So it goes.

The way things had turned out was infinitely preferable to something like that however. And he reflected on how despite all those sorts of considerations he still had no wish for the moment to end. But it must at some point, and that point was rapidly approaching. He needed her to leave. Didn't wish to put her into any sort of compromising position which they would both later come to regret. He had let her get much too close during his time here, and if sacrificing the moment would make even just a small gesture to correct that mistake then so be it.

"Ok Judy, it's time for us both to get some sleep."

She looked up at him and said almost regretfully, "Yeah, I know."

"Hey don't say it like that, I will be here in the morning." He admonished playfully, as he gently extricated himself from her embrace.

She finally acquiesced to his motions and reluctantly slipped from the bed. She turned to leave but stopped and said, "Goodnight John, see you in the morning."

"I'll be here." He smiled back at her.

And then she was gone.

Thats it for now, I hope you enjoyed it!

The next one will be out in two weeks!

Live well my friends!