If you're somehow reading this in order years later, you'll pass between chapters nine and 10 and think, "oh, hey, cool, everything's normal and not weird and this story has probably been updating all along."
If you're not one of those people, you're looking like you've seen a lil' ol' ghost!
That ghost is this story that started five years ago and hasn't been updated in four. But it's alive. Which I guess doesn't make it a ghost. Not anymore? I don't know where I'm going with this.
It's getting finished, though. Thanks for joining me if you're still here.
The Dead Waltz
YFWE
Ch. 10: Deep River Blues
"Jeez, Wilde, did ya kill him?"
Belle Thumper did not mean the question literally; even she could see the faint rise and fall of the black hare's chest as he sat slumped against the wall, paws cuffed behind his back. But after what had been just a few minutes – though it felt much longer – he remained unconscious, with no indications of stirring anytime soon.
"Suppose that would've made things easier," said Nick Wilde with a smirk, turning from the hare's unanimated figure. "Wouldn't have had to use these babies." He motioned at the pawcuffs that kept the hare's arms bound.
He called into the alit office of the antique store nearby, where Gideon Grey had taken the jacket the hare had been wearing. "You search it, Gid? Anything?"
"A-yup. No ID, no nothin'," Gideon Grey shouted back.
"And nothin' in his pockets," Belle added solemnly. "Like he knew if he was gonna be caught…"
"He didn't wanna be found out," finished Gideon.
The past few minutes had passed in something of a blur. Sharla tended to Aaron Longfellow and Bobby Catmull, both of whom had sustained minor scrapes and bruises from their bout with the hare, in the office, while Gideon, Belle and Nick searched their assailant, to no avail. Anything they got out of him would come straight from his mouth.
And since he had made that much of an effort to avoid identification already, Gideon was underwhelmed by their prospects.
"Neither of you recognize him, right?" asked Nick after a few beats of silence, crowding again by the still-immobile hare.
"Naw," Gideon shook his head. "Should we?"
"I dunno. Accent sorta seems Bunnyburrow to me."
"Maybe, but there are plenty of places like Bunnyburrow out here. East Meadow, West Meadow…"
"Your girlfriend doesn't have much of that accent, and she's from here," added Belle, with pointed emphasis on the second word.
"Speakin' of girlfriends –" Gideon started.
"Leeeeet's maybe revisit that topic later," Nick interrupted Gideon, averting his gaze from them and to the floor.
And curious as Gideon remained, his mind had little time to dwell on Nick's deflection, because the hare was waking up.
"There he is! There's our boy." Any semblance of discomfiture in Nick's voice had vanished, replaced by his usual always-bordering-on-sarcastic tone. "Hey, buddy. Sleep well?"
The black hare took a few moments to even comprehend Nick's voice, let alone his question. He opened one green eye first, then the other, and made a move to touch, perhaps massage, the back of his neck before jolting suddenly when he realized he had been restrained.
His glare directed toward Nick was more effective than the words he might have spoken instead.
Nick, however, was not deterred so easily.
"Apologies for the untidy digs," he said, straightening to his full height and clapping his paws together. "No antique pillows in the store. Which I'm sure you can imagine. No one wants to rest their head on something like that. Where do ya buy your pillows from, by the way? ITREEA? Listen, I picked up one from there the other day – worked wonders for my neck, buddy, I'll tell ya, Been sleepin' like a baby. You look like you got neck problems, which is why I ask, seeing as you seem to be in definite discomfort back there. I've got tips I can—"
"Do you want me to commend ya on your choppin' skills or somethin'?" the hare finally spoke in that dusty voice. "That it?"
"…yeah, that's actually it, ya caught me." Nick shot the hare a toothy smile. "Did I do all right? I've been practicing, and it's not every day I catch a mammal so unaware of his surroundings that I get that clean a shot."
"So you're proud of your sucker punch, fox?"
"I am. Would ya maybe mind letting my boss know? It's like giving me five stars on Zuber, except instead you're telling my boss I did a good job so he doesn't want to fire me anymore."
"Wilde," Belle grumbled. "Let's move this along."
Clicking his tongue, Nick stooped to the hare's level and spoke in a voice less audible than before but deliberately loud enough so Belle could hear, pointing a claw tip dismissively in her direction. "See what I gotta deal with here? Can't rush perfection, I say – what do you think, champ?" He lightly prodded the rabbit's shoulder. "Not like you're going anywhere, eh?"
Their captive promptly spat in the fox's face, and Belle could not suppress a triumphant laugh.
"Should've saw that one coming." Nick pawed at his fur with a sleeve of his coat, unable to mask a quick twinge of disgust. "Now, don't make me get the gag out, young man."
"He's clearly got a few years on you at least," Gideon chimed in.
"You flatter me, Gid."
"Enough," barked the rabbit, and while Gideon knew it was almost certainly impossible for the hare's two-colored eyes to literally glow with rage, he still was not ruling out the idea. "Fox, I don't know who you are –"
"Haven't watched ZNN recently, huh?" Nick interjected.
"— but you're gonna wanna let me go –"
"Or the paper, I guess. You guys get the Times out here, right?"
"— if you know what's good for you and ev'ryone else in here."
Nick straightened back to his full height and rubbed his chin ponderingly. "That sure is quite the threat," he said. "Especially against a fox of the law, let alone innocent civilians. Y'know, the ones you clearly tailed in here to cause harm. Makes me wonder … why?"
The rabbit did not speak.
"Or maybe you were told to come here. By someone." Nick paced slowly on the tile floor directly in front of the assailant. "Maybe you'd like to tell us who that is."
Still nothing.
"Got quiet all of a sudden, didn't he, Gid?"
"I'd say so, Nick," Gideon, who had now leaned his frame against the wall next to the entrance to the office, agreed. "Why d'you reckon that is?"
"Sure sounds to me like he's scared of sayin' too much about who sent him here." Belle had joined the fray.
It was her voice that finally got the hare's attention. Whipping his head toward her, he growled, "Shut your mouth, blood traitor, unless you want to –"
"Hey, hey, whooooaa, now," Nick cut him off; Gideon was not sure if the hare had finished his threat or if Nick had merely shouted over it. "Think we've found our sore spot. Perhaps a meetup with the local boys in blue will change our friend's tune."
"That's been arranged." Aaron stood in the doorframe of the office, one paw gingerly clutching his chest where he had been hit earlier during the black rabbit's assault, the other waving his phone. "Texted Brerington while Sharla was checking me out."
"He back yet?" Gideon asked, remembering the constable had been on his way to Tri-Burrows General earlier to interview the since-awakened Silver O'Hare. And then recalling how Danny Brerington had asked them to hold off on investigating the security cameras of the antique store in which they were now standing. He hoped he had enough time before Brerington got there to craft a believable story about why he did not heed the constable's directive.
Luckily, his fears were assuaged right off the bat. "Not yet. Said he got held up at General. But he's got some guys from West Meadow coming out to get our friend dropped off at the county jail. Should be here soon."
"You hear that, bud?" Nick turned back and waved at the pawcuffed rabbit. "Actual authority! Maybe they'll be able to turn that scowl upside down, huh?"
For the first time since he awoke, the rabbit grinned. "Y'really think so?" he drawled. "'Cause I've found a cell don't tend to hold me for very long, fox."
"Braggadocious, this guy. Might have to see if these West Meadow folks'll let me watch the booking." Nick's gaze found Gideon's. "I can look after Tall, Dark and Boastsome here if you need to get the others home, Gid. Assuming you got what you were looking for."
Gideon nodded, stealing a quick look at Belle, who shrugged back. "Uh, sure, yeah, should prob'ly go get Bobby and Sharla home, at least. Dunno if this is exactly what they signed up for." He paused and pointed a claw at Nick. "We should talk, though. Before you, uh … leave? Are ya staying? Sorry, still not totally sure what's going on here."
Tossing Gideon a two-finger salute, Nick flashed a toothy smile. "Sure, I'll have my people call your people. But not before I tell my captive audience of one some old fox war stories my grandpa used to bore me with. Think he'll like him. Continue the cycle of trauma. How's that sound, my guy?"
Gideon heard a barely audible sigh from the hare before he left the room, the rest of the group in tow as Aaron had fetched Sharla and Bobby, as Nick began, "You look like a tank guy. Let me talk to you about some tanks. It all starts —"
"Good to hear the fox cop hasn't forgotten how to be downright insufferable," grumbled Belle as the five mammals stepped into the night outside of the antique store's back alley door. It was darker outside than it had been when they entered, and Gideon could barely spot the moon behind a cluster of clouds, making him gracious for the floodlight that had clicked on above the door, however it might flicker.
"C'mon, Belle, Nick basically saved our tails just now," Sharla said with a roll of her eyes as she struggled to support Bobby's weight against hers; the cougar was still massaging his ribs as he walked, one arm propped against the sheep's shoulders, wincing every few steps.
"Oh, I was just jokin'."
"Weird joke," Bobby muttered.
"I just meant it's nice that he's usin' it against someone else this time."
Gideon glanced at Aaron, who was feverishly texting on his phone. "Y'good, Aaron?" he asked, curious. "Brerington's guys still comin'?"
Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Aaron sighed and managed a meek smile. "Oh, no, you know, just trying to figure out how to explain the damages in the shop to my kin. Found it helps me to try to text out the groveling apology for practice before I try it on a real person."
"Aw, yer family'll understand. Ain't that much damage, anyway … right?" Gideon reminded himself he had zero antique appraisal experience.
"Just show 'em your scars from where that hare hit you," offered Bobby.
"Think I'm gonna be scar-less, Bobby."
"Oh. Nice. Good for you." The cougar could not help but wince again.
Sharla patted the cougar's side, trying to proffer some semblance of reassurance. "We'll get you home, Bobby. So you can rest a little." She looked to Gideon. "Really, we should probably all get home."
"Yeah, not sure late-night vigilantism suits the lot of us, Gid," said Aaron with a quick laugh. "I know you've got some experience in the field from a few months ago. But not sure we signed up for, uh …" he pointed a paw back inside the store, "that."
Massaging his forehead with a paw, Gideon shook his head and heaved a weighty sigh. "I know, I know … sorry, y'all, I … guess I just didn't think things were gonna get that crazy."
"I mean, I don't think you could've anticipated some rabbit no one's ever seen before followin' us into an antique store after closin' …" Belle pointed out.
Sharla shook her head. "After what you and Gideon went through at the O'Hare house, I'm not so sure. They shot at you, remember?"
Belle stuffed her paws into her pockets and kicked at the ground. "I, uh … I guess that's right."
"Seemed like the guy recognized you, anyway," Aaron noted. "Maybe? I mean, he called you a blood traitor or something, did I hear that right?"
"Could've meant all of us. Except the preds, I mean."
"He singled out you, though, Belle." Gideon had not fully considered the comment before now, but the more he thought about it, the more it worried him, especially when he took into consideration the fact that had since dawned on him – that whoever had driven the car that shot O'Hare had certainly seen him and Belle, too. But had they been recognized? Or was the shooter simply trying to wipe out anyone else who was nearby?
Since they had been followed into the antique store despite no one else knowing their intentions, he had a bad feeling about what the answer might be.
"Well, I don't know the guy. I wanna make that super clear," Belle said pointedly.
"It's not us knowing him I'm worried about," countered Sharla with an anxious frown. "It's whether or not they know us …"
Bobby nodded. "Especially if they're the same mammals who killed Bernice."
Stomping a foot on the ground, Belle took her paws back out of her pockets at her sister's mention, balling them up in protest. "Well, I'm not stoppin', if that's what you're implyin' we should do –"
"No, no, Belle, it isn't that," Sharla started, "I just … maybe we should lay low for a little bit …"
"If I might," Aaron announced, "you might be in the clear, anyway. Once this fella gets hauled off to jail, I'm sure they'll be questioning him for any number of things – O'Hare getting shot, Bernice's death, you name it. That might be our guy."
"Welllll," interjected Gideon, drawing out the final vowel with a nervous unease, "I ain't so sure 'bout that, actually."
He told them – as promised, before their reconnaissance mission hit its snag – about his meeting with Travis, and what the ferret had shared about the New Society.
Sharla was the first to speak after the fox recounted the conversation. Try as he wanted to, Gideon could not look away from her bewildered, frightful expression. "So … you think all this is related?"
"Dunno," Gideon admitted. "Might not be. Travis ain't sure either. But if it is, then I'm guessin' our friend in there ain't actin' alone."
"And he probably wasn't before this, anyway," said Belle. "Even if he was in the car that shot O'Hare, there was more than just the driver in there, remember?"
"Ah, right." Gideon recalled how the tranq had come from the left-rear window.
Sharla cleared her throat. "Well, in that case, I think we should definitely be getting home. Let the professionals take care of this." She glanced back inside. "And … Judy's boyfriend, apparently. Why's he here again?"
"Fixin' to find that part out once West Meadow gets here." He glanced at his phone, which had an unread message from Judy. "Speakin' of Judy …"
He opened the text, and his heart sank.
"Welp. Not sure why I expected anything different."
"She run the plate?" Aaron asked.
"Sure did. Came back with nothin'. Dummy plate, she said. Might have other ways to figure somethin' out but she can't do it from home. Still, we're stuck in the dark. Shoot."
He grimaced as he glanced around at the weary, in some cases injured mammals gathered around him. "Sorry 'bout all this, y'all, didn't mean for it to get, uh …"
"Nothin' an ice pack won't heal, Gid," said Bobby with a wave of his free paw, the other still propped against Sharla. "Don't sweat it."
Sharla nodded. "Yeah, Gideon, don't worry about it. I'm just glad this'll get Brerington's butt in gear to get all this solved."
"I've still got time for that bottle of wine tonight, anyway," said Aaron, checking his watch. "Thumper, care to join? Got a nice white you might prefer."
"I'd rather that hare in there punch me in the face. Multiple times."
"Worth a try. Goodnight, all! Gideon, text me if you need anything." With a wave, he tossed the spare store key to the fox. "Lock up when they leave, yeah?"
"Maybe he'd strangle me, too. Make me gurgle bleach." Belle was still naming things that sounded better than a late-night date with Aaron Longfellow.
"Oooon that note, I'm gonna get Bobby home and then go decompress myself," Sharla said. "That's OK, right, Gid?"
Nodding, Gideon offered the sheep a reassuring grin. "Of course. I'll text y'all in the morning, see how yer doin'."
Gideon and Belle watched as the cougar, sheep and rabbit departed into the night. It was quieter once they were gone, and Gideon could faintly hear Nick's voice inside the store. It sounded like he had not yet departed the topic of grounded warfare.
"Suppose y'want me to go away, too," Belle spoke after a few moments of silence.
"I, uh … certainly think you should get some shuteye, Belle."
"After all that?"
"If ya can. Have a feelin' yer gonna need yer rest. 'Specially if this guy ends up bein' connected to Bernice somehow."
"Hate when you're right." Belle crossed her arms and began to stalk off down the alley. "Lemme know if he ends up sayin' anything else when they take him away, OK?"
"Of course." Gideon paused. "Be careful if yer walkin' …"
"I'll be fine, Gideon. See you. And … thanks."
Before he could counter with a "you're welcome," Belle, too, was no longer visible in the shadows of the back alleyway.
He stood silent for a bit, twirling the ring the spare store key was fastened to around his paw. The chill in the night air suddenly hit him, and he shuddered, wishing he had brought a heavier flannel. Perhaps the adrenaline from earlier had kept him warm before then.
It was not long after that a pair of headlights appeared on the other side of the alleyway, entering from the side closer to West Meadow. Sure enough, a pickup trick whose color Gideon could not make out in the dark pulled all the way up to where he was standing and stopped, the fox stepping out of the way while shielding his eyes from the bright lights with a paw.
"Hey, uh, yer the … I mean, are you the guys Brerington sent?" he asked once the truck's engine had been shut off and its two doors opened. "West Meadow?"
"Sure are," the driver, a tan goat with a baseball cap fastened low above his eyes, nodded. The passenger, a brown rabbit, did not speak. "He in there?"
"Yeah, we don't know who he is, but he's, uh – yeah, there's someone in there watchin' him, makin' sure he doesn't bolt."
"Thanks." The goat followed his partner, who had already stepped inside before Gideon had finished his answer. It was not long before they had returned, still mostly silent, paws and hooves clasping the shoulders of the hare, who strode between them with his head down, still cuffed. Even in the dark, Gideon could still make out those eyes.
"You guys can keep the cuffs," Nick said as he walked outside, Gideon taking his as his cue to lock the shop's door. "My gift to you."
The goat might have muttered a thanks, but Gideon could not totally make one out as they shoved the hare into the backseat and slammed the rear doors.
"Not talkers, are ya?" Nick continued to try to make conversation as Gideon rejoined him outside the back door. "Need anything else from us? I assume someone's coming back by to let the storeowners know why a couple vases got smashed and some paintings are crooked."
"Brerington's job when he's back," the goat said gruffly. "We just came for him."
"Of course, of course. Well, tell your folks I said hi, don't forget to write, glad we had this chat — "
The truck's engine had been fired again, and Nick could not get out the rest of his sentence before they began to pull away, both foxes stepping out of the way as the vehicle backed up and turned, heading back down the alley in the direction from which it had come.
Gideon could not ignore the fact that he was, albeit barely, able to make out the hare watching him again as he left. Especially since he could swear he saw a smile across his muzzle.
"Weird that they came in a truck," Nick noted as they drove away.
"Don't think West Meadow's got much more of a budget than Bunnyburrow does," Gideon said. "'Least that's what I heard. Guessin' they're both basically volunteers too."
"Hm. Well, glad they made time for us." Nick turned to Gideon and shot him a quick wink. "Guessing nothing's open downtown this late, huh?"
"Sure ain't, 'cept for the gas station."
"Guess I'll just tell ya why I'm here while I walk with my tail between my legs back to the train station, then." He took a step down the alleyway. "Buckle up, it's a doozy. Well, not really. But it'll take a sec to explain."
Gideon put out a paw to stop Nick, catching his arm as he jerked his head toward his van that was parked nearby. "Well, it's also late, and train don't come for another hour or two …"
"Believe me, I know. Again, will explain why."
"Why not just crash here for the night? Maybe stick around? Sure the Hoppses wouldn't mind a visit. Maybe Brerington can pick yer brain a little with this case 'n' all. Though, shoot," he paused. "Judy said yer work schedule was a little rough."
"You drive a hard bargain, Gideon. Maybe I'll drop in for a bit after all. Clawhauser owes me a few favors anyway, and I got it into his ear that he could easily manipulate the time-off request database without the chief knowing, as long as I catch him by the morning. He'll protest, but I'm sure he'll come around."
"Have no idea who Clawhauser is, but do what you gotta do, I guess."
"Already done." Nick had typed a message on his phone before Gideon even realized what was happening.
"Wasn't that just a few Zoomojis?"
"He'll know what it means. Anyway, don't wanna bother Stu and Bonnie at this hour, so, uh …" He shot Gideon a half-lidded grin. "Guess I'm bunking with you, huh?"
xXxXxXx
"Sorry, it ain't much, but there still ain't too many visitors here these days," Gideon said, carrying a bundle of blankets in his arms as he stepped into his living room. "Definitely not ones stayin' the night."
"Gideon, did you know I used to sleep in a dresser drawer?" Nick asked, standing from the sofa where he would sleep that night and collecting the blankets from Gideon's outstretched paws. "Like, a literal drawer."
"That, uh, sounds painful."
"One day a chiropractor is going have a nervous breakdown when I'm their patient, yeah. Anyway, point is, couch is just fine, thanks."
Gideon fetched a pair of glasses from the cupboard and began filling them with water from the sink. "Well water, too," he shouted over the sound of the spray. "Better than that city water yer drinkin'."
"I dunno, have you heard about how much fluoride they're pumping into Zootopia's water supply these days? Buddy, my teeth are shining. Some of the folks out here, they, uh –"
"Really, a country-folk-missin'-teeth joke? Low-hangin' fruit."
"Yeah, swung at the fastball down the middle there, my bad." He accepted his water glass and took a sip. "Only the slightest taste of dirt. Thanks."
"Builds character. Now, about why yer here."
Nick nodded, setting his glass down on the end table nearby. "Right. No use dragging this out any longer."
"That was you in the bathroom at the debate, right?" Gideon asked first.
"I guess we're doing a question-and-answer session. Well, was that me hiding out in a public bathroom janitor's closet? Yes, yes, it was. Imagine the smell."
"So you've been here a few days."
"Actually, no, that was my first day here, incidentally," Nick said with a shrug. "And I got back in … dunno, probably an hour before I saved your lives? You're welcome, again, by the way."
Gideon cocked his head, surprised. "So you've just been … goin' back 'n' forth? Between Zootopia?"
"Train in, train out, train back in. Sleep on the train, mostly."
"… why?"
Nick folded his paws in his lap and emitted a heavy sigh, one that Gideon swore raised his shoulders a few inches higher. "Well, ain't that the million-dollar question."
"And does Judy know? Guessin' no, since she –"
"Judy doesn't know any of it," Nick uttered curtly.
"And yer gettin' this face whenever someone brings her up. Ain't like you, Mister Don't-Let-'Em-See-They-Get-To-You or whatever."
"You mostly got the wording right, yeah."
"So I'm guessin' this has somethin' to do with her, too."
"Gideon, I …" Nick paused, took another deep breath and exhaled again. "Look, Judy's great. You should know that. I mean, you do know that. You've known that longer than me. She hasn't done anything wrong."
He glanced out the window, eyes following the headlights of a car driving past. "Problem's me. And it's hard to explain, but you've been a nice guy and a good listener before, even though you just handed me the scratchiest blankets of all time, so I guess I'll try.
"So we … well, she said it first, but then I guess I said it back. Love. I mean, I love you. Not you, Gid, like … ah, heck. Judy and I aren't just dating anymore. We said the 'l' word. It's a thing. We're a thing."
Gideon could not suppress a smile. "Yer makin' this sound like it's a bad thing. And it ain't. I'm so happy for y'all."
"Me too. Or I was. Am. Still am. I meant it, too. Never said it to anyone but my parents, and even that was a lie sometimes. I put a label on it. I love that stupid bunny. The more I say it, the less weird it sounds. Love, love, love. I only kind of want to throw myself into the river we passed by earlier."
"Still not hearin' how this is a bad thing," said Gideon. "Or, uh … why it made ya start takin' long train rides alone to Bunnyburrow."
"The usual self sabotage, Gideon, what can I say? Been doing it all my life. Thought I was rid of it. Have this great job, an amazing girlfriend, things are looking up." He took another drink of water and swallowed. "Then she brought up moving in together."
"Seems like the next step if ya ask me."
"Logically, yes. Except, I dunno, Gid, something about it just … broke me. Like I saw my life flashing before my eyes, and the life I saw didn't look right, didn't look the way I wanted it. So I just –"
Gideon's eyes widened. "You said no?"
"Well, no. I said I'd think about it."
Shrugging, Gideon leaned forward, elbows propped against his legs, resting his face against his paws. "Seems perfectly reasonable."
"Would be if I didn't suddenly go all Distant Nick on her after that. It's been a slippery slope since, and we've been seeing each other less outside of work, and … I don't know. It just got weird.
"And all that's because of me, again, I accept my blame." Nick raised a paw, shaking his head with a rueful smirk. "The old Nick didn't have too many good friends outside of Finnick, and even he was kept at an arm's length. And I thought about it on these train rides lately and thought … I dunno, Gid, I guess I just don't like feeling caged? Well, no one does, really, do they? But my brain's out here associating the sheer concept of moving in, settling down, moving on to that next chapter as … that?"
"Bud, you could use a therapist," Gideon said with a laugh. "'Stead of talking to me 'bout it. Don't y'all have decent healthcare?"
"We do. Great vision benefits, actually. Never been a glasses guy but I've been thinking about some frames for the evening before I go to bed and oh god I sound so domesticated, please stop me —"
"Oh, stop. Yer fine."
"I am. I should be. But I dunno, Gid, I just freaked out, OK? I'm almost positive this is what I want, but there's still that nagging voice in the back of my mind that's like, well, what if it isn't? Which I blame on my father, to be clear. Do indeed a therapist to unpack that one.
"Most people take walks to think. I tend to either doomscroll the Internet or board the next train to wherever and hope my common sense kicks the rest of my brain back into gear. Turns out I did both this time."
"How so?" asked Gideon.
Nick took out his phone, clicked around a few times and then showed Gideon his phone screen. He could barely make out an app of some sort. "Nick, I can't see that good, just tell me."
"Preddit's got this community where true crime junkies tend to hang. Usually it's stuff that's already in the papers, police are investigating, mind you. And I hate thinking about work when I'm not at work. But I dunno, sometimes it gives you some good leads on something. Anyway, Bernice Thumper's death popped up on there. Didn't get much attention because Zootopia-based cases pretty much flood the thing.
"So I clicked in, did some digging and … well, obviously I know that Bunnyburrow doesn't have a particularly robust, shall we say, detective agency and I knew my way around, so I decided, hey, maybe I'll stop in during the evening since there was the debate, see what was shakin'. In disguise, of course." He accompanied this with a jazzy flick of his paws.
Gideon nodded. "Ah, and that's when you ran into me."
"Shot my shot and thought there might be some shady dealings in a public restroom. Since there are always shady dealings happening in a public restroom. Constant shady dealings. I may or may not have participated. Lo and behold, Nick Wilde was right again."
He glanced at Gideon sheepishly. "Didn't want anyone I knew to see me, though, so it didn't get back to Judy. Saw you that night and bolted. Came back tonight figuring, cool, nothing's really happening downtown, can be way more covert. Happened to tail this shady character downtown and wouldn't you know it, he led me to you again. Figured it was a sign."
"Well, Nick, can't say I'm unhappy yer around to help out after all," said Gideon with a short laugh. "Since it's apparently fate 'n' all. But look … y'know yer gonna have to tell Judy eventually, right?"
"Sure, once I get my head on straight. She might not get as mad at me if she knows there's some true-crime escapades to be told. This will shock you, but she loves those."
"Naw, I mean … as in, Judy's comin' here. Tomorrow."
Nick's eyes widened and he sunk deeper into the couch. "I … see."
"A-yup. We've been textin' a little about the whole racket out here. Gettin' her opinion on things. Then somethin' about the weather in the city this weekend and, well, guess she's comin' around."
"And you didn't think to tell me this until now."
"Didn't think y'all were hittin' a rough patch, so I assumed you'd be happy 'bout it."
Groaning, the visiting fox laid his frame across the couch, head propped up against a pillow situated by the arm farthest away from Gideon so he was still facing him. "You're right, you're right. I'll just have to figure that out. When's she coming in?"
"Late mornin', I think. Noon? Dunno, actually. Prob'ly one of the first trains out, knowin' her. Surprised she hasn't texted you about it."
"Good chance she has. Haven't flipped through my unreads yet. Little busy."
"Well, maybe you can be her welcomin' party."
"Maybe."
They sat in silence for a few moments. Gideon stood up to get himself another glass of water while Nick thumbed through his phone; when Gideon returned, the other fox was grimacing, which he imagined might have meant he finally read the texts from the rabbit.
"Look," Gideon said as he sat back down. "Y'all will be fine. This ain't somethin' that big. Not yet, I mean. Like, it ain't really taken hold yet, ain't festerin'. Y'just gotta nip in the bud sooner rather than later."
Nick nodded, putting down his phone and sitting up again, facing Gideon. "Yeah. I know. I've always known. Just needed the kick in the pants to get it done. And I … think I probably got it."
"Happy to hear that."
"Thanks, Gid. Glad I have someone to talk through my dumb brain with."
"Of course, Nick. You helped me out a lot last time, remember? At the baseball diamond?"
Smirking, Nick waved a paw. "The seeing red convo. Yep."
"So maybe we're even. Which is good, 'cause," he yawned with a long stretch of his arms, "I really should hit the hay."
He stood again and refilled his water glass one last time. "Y'good?" he called from the kitchen. "Need anything else?"
"A glass of warm milk and a bedtime story, please."
"I'll take that as a no, then. G'night, Nick."
The fox offered a wave as Gideon departed into his bedroom, shut the door and flopped onto his bed. He did not normally sleep in his clothes, and he did not plan on starting then. But the weight of the day hit him quite suddenly, and he was not awake for long.
xXxXxXx
The text Gideon woke up to the next morning was far from the one he expected, though he was not surprised it was from Belle.
"Lmk when u get this," it read. "Big development. Need your van."
"Nick," Gideon shouted from the bedroom as he pulled on a change of clothes. "You awake?"
"Already got coffee brewed," he heard Nick intone from the other room. "It's bad. You need to buy better stuff."
"Thanks! For the coffee, not the dig about my spendin' habits." He opened the bedroom door and stepped outside. "Belle texted. Said she needed my van."
"Whose body does that rabbit need to hide?"
"Prob'ly the one that killed her sister, if I had to guess. Y'fine holdin' down the fort here for a bit while I see what she needs?"
"Gladly. Still rehearsing what I'm gonna say to Judy when she steps off the train. Not sure if I go with a lie, the truth or just act like I've lived here all my life and she's the weird one for asking why I'm there."
Rolling his eyes, Gideon said, "Just tell her the deal, it's gotta come out eventually."
"We'll see." Nick sat back down on the couch, clutching his cup of coffee. "Oh, where's your Musk Away? Just now realizing I am a couple hundred miles away from my apartment while still wearing the clothes I wore yesterday."
"In the bathroom. Yer welcome to anything in my closet, too."
"Gid, we both know I'm not finding something in there I can wear."
"Might surprise yerself. Brother might stop by, by the way, to escape from Pa. Please don't make up a story about why yer here. And tell him I'll be back soon."
"Can't promise anything. I'm an artiste, after all."
Gideon texted Belle that he was on his way as he walked outside, fishing his van's keys from his pocket. A few minutes later, he was about to pull into 133 Whitehare Lane when Belle bounded out from behind a bush by the Thumpers' mailbox, waving. Gideon stopped his truck on the road, making sure there were no other vehicles coming, while Belle wrenched open the passenger-side door and leaped inside.
"Y'ain't gonna believe this," she said, her voice coated with eagerness Gideon did not normally get from the bunny.
"Is it about Bernice? That hare? Did Brerington find something out?"
"About Bernice, yes. I got a call from General this morning."
"O'Hare?" Gideon asked.
"Yeah. Turns out I'm on his guestlist."
Gideon furrowed his brow as he pulled away from the Thumper homestead. "But … y'all've never met."
"Except that time he thought I was my sister."
"Right."
"But that's weird, ain't it? Maybe Bernice brought me up or somethin'?"
Gideon's paws drummed on his steering wheel as he took a turn toward a road he was fairly sure would take him to Tri-Burrows General. "Or maybe you came up during Brerington's interview with him?"
"Could be. I dunno. But I gotta go talk to him, figure all this out," she said, determined.
"Reckon so."
General was not a significant jaunt from Bunnyburrow; in fact, it was nearly part of the town's postal code, barely sitting on land within Statesburrow instead. So neither Gideon nor Belle had to muster up too much small talk before they had arrived at the parking lot in front of the seven-story main building.
As Gideon parked his van and shut off the engine, he peaked over at Belle, who had already unbuckled her seatbelt. "I'll, uh … I guess I can wait for ya out here? Assumin' it ain't gonna be a long visit 'n' all."
"Actually …" Belle paused as soon as her paw touched the door handle, "was sorta hopin' you'd come in with me."
"W-well, sure, if ya want, but I'd just be sittin' in the lobby or somethin'. Yer the only one on the list, right?"
"That's fine. Just in case I … or he … I dunno, just knowin' a friend's nearby would be reassurin'."
There was the friend word again. Ignoring his rapidly flushing cheeks, he, too, undid his seatbelt. "Sure, I can do that."
The fox took a seat inside by a vending machine while Belle stood in the two-deep line at reception behind an elderly pig who the front desk worker seemed to recognize from prior visits, because she was quickly ushered to the nearest elevator.
Belle's turn did not move as quickly; Gideon watched as the receptionist took her photo for security and handed her an identification slip. But soon she too was admitted to an elevator; the rabbit gave Gideon a quick wave as she left, which he reciprocated.
Lemme make sure I've got a little more time on those deliveries, he thought as he scrolled through the notes app on his phone where he often kept track of upcoming pie orders when he was not at his home computer. The last few days had thankfully been ones when he normally would not be doing much baking anyway, but he would need to find a few spare hours to stock back up soon. That day could indeed be the day depending on how Belle's meeting with O'Hare went, but he did not want to get too far ahead of himself.
"Order for Miss Johnson goes out tomorrow, market's in two days …" he ran down the inventory out loud. "Prob'ly good for a bit longer, but …"
"Hey."
Gideon almost threw his phone. He had not expected any voice in the nearly empty waiting room, let alone Belle's. Especially not so soon."
"Yer done already? I –"
"I talked to him. You can come up too."
"H-huh?"
"It's fine. I asked and he said yes."
Gideon could barely form the smallest protest before he had been whisked away to reception. Did he even smile for the photo? Did it matter? Before he knew it, he was already at the elevator bank.
"Just one floor up," Belle said, tapping her foot impatiently. "He looks all right."
"I mean, I guess it was just a tranq, not like he got mauled or somethin'. But why do y'want me there anyway? Ain't this just between —"
"Dragged ya along this far, ain't I?" Belle shot Gideon a thin smile as the doors to floor two opened. "Let's just get over the finish line."
The fox clutched his ID card, which was little more than a slip of paper with his face on it, as Belle led him toward the open door to O'Hare's room. He glanced at his expression before he followed her inside. He was smiling, after all. Barely. Might have been a grimace.
The room into which they had entered was not small by any means, but it could only hold one patient – at least a rabbit-sized one. A chair for visitors was situated near a window whose light blue shades were open wide to let in the copious morning sunlight. There were tables surrounding the room seemingly available for personal trinkets and effects, though they were mostly bare, save for a framed photo of flowers Gideon assumed was just there no matter the patient.
The white hare was sitting up in the bed when they arrived, head rested against a pillow against the raised back. Gideon shuddered a little under O'Hare's gaze, that burnt-orange hue that was not unfriendly per se – they just simply reminded Gideon of the last time he saw them, when they glared back at a fox their owner saw as a threat.
"Ah." O'Hare spoke directly to Gideon when he saw the fox enter. "You were there too, weren't you?"
"At his house," Belle elaborated with a nod to Gideon.
"Oh, right. Yeah, that was me."
O'Hare sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his head further into the pillow. "Thought I remembered a fox. I hope I didn't, er … well, I probably did, didn't I?"
"It's fine," responded Gideon, figuring there was little need to revisit the threat of a tasering the rabbit had relayed the last time they met.
"Think I've seen you 'round town. Farmer's market?"
Gideon nodded. "Most weekends."
"Remind me to stop by your booth sometime when this is all over." O'Hare opened his eyes again and gave the fox a grin he would certainly typify as warm. "The least I can do."
"So. Sorry to interrupt, but – my sister," Belle anxiously cut across the pleasantries.
"Your sister," O'Hare repeated wistfully. His orange eyes found Belle, who had taken a seat in the chair nearby while Gideon stood. "You probably get this a lot, but you look a lot like her."
Shrugging, Belle flipped a long ear behind her. "Always thought I was prettier, but –"
"I guess I already told you that anyway, though, didn't I?" O'Hare stared at the white hospital ceiling. "Or … sort of. Since I mistook you for her."
"Sure. Wasn't the first time."
"Well, let me tell you first and foremost that I had nothing to do with her, uh … her … you know. Would never hurt someone I … I mean, someone like … ah, how to put it," he grimaced. "The thing is –"
"I know you two were dating," Belle said plainly. Gideon nodded in affirmation.
"O-oh! I didn't realize she had mentioned me …"
Belle shook her head. "She didn't. We talked to Cynthia."
"Ah. Right."
"You don't seem her type, though," said Belle as her eyes followed the white rabbit's frame before landing back on his face. "Like, no offense?"
Chuckling, O'Hare raised his head from his pillow. "She said the same thing, incidentally."
"Like that. That right there. Using the word incidentally. I don't think most her old boyfriends would be able to spell it."
Gideon briefly thought about making a joke about how he probably could not either but remembered that the moment was not about him.
"And I should admit she was not exactly mine, either. Mostly dated within the arts scene in my 20s. But …" he glanced at the window and stared through it longingly, "love, I guess, has a funny way of finding you."
"Where did y'all even meet?" asked Belle, her face scrunched up as she seemingly tried to reason through where it could have happened herself.
"College. Well, her college, of course. The Cotton campaign traveled there … gods, it must have been five months ago now, since we'd been together for four-and-a-half … school doesn't have a political science major or anything since it's mostly for trade careers, but they'd bring in speakers sometimes to talk about some other interests and the mayor's always been a proponent of scoring the youth vote any which way. And of course, your sister was far from the only student enrolled there from Bunnyburrow."
"Can't say I remember Bernice even ever registerin' to vote, and if she had … I dunno if she would've done it for Cotton. No offense."
O'Hare smiled sadly. "None taken, actually. We've talked a lot about the past. Hers, mine – her family's, even. I understand where her allegiances were. Or where she thought they were." He turned to Belle. "She credited you with the change, in part."
"She … did? She never mentioned …"
"Bernice looked up to you. I don't know if she said it much. That's between you and her. But when you started to, er … break the cycle, so to speak, started talking to I'm guessing this gentlefox here, started reforming yourself, I think she saw it as an invitation to question her own experience, her own thoughts and feelings. That's why I put you on my guestlist, by the way. Not much family out here to speak of anyway, and I thought maybe, if anyone stopped by, if anyone from her family figured something out … it'd be you.
"But when she came to the mayor's talk that night, I still saw a lost soul who was unsure of herself. I don't even know if she really meant to come there that night. But she listened to every word Patricia said, and afterward, while waiting to speak to her, she and I talked – she said she recognized me from Deerbrooke."
Belle slapped a paw against her leg. "Duh! Because of the salad place she likes over there. Always told her it was dumb she went a few towns over when Bunnyburrow's got a perfectly fine diner downtown.
"Well, I'm glad she didn't listen to you this time," the hare said with a laugh. "It's right next to my dance studio, yes. And then I realized I'd seen her, too. Sitting on the sidewalk outside with her salad watching a class if it was in session. Just … watching. Like I used to when I lived in Zootopia, actually. The instructor took me on then, too, and I realized I had a love for an art form I had never even tried. One that ended up being my career. So I decided to pay that energy forward and invited her in."
The rabbit smiled as he recounted the story, staring dreamily at the ceiling again. Gideon noticed O'Hare's features lightening, muscles slackening, as though he was as at peace as he had been since arriving.
"She was nervous, though, your sister. Wasn't sure if she had the money for a lesson, either. I told her no, that's fine, first few are on me. But she didn't want to be in the same class as someone else, could tell she was worried about embarrassing herself in front of other students. So that's why she started coming in after her own classes, took the bus in from East Meadow at first. I usually closed up shop a little before dinnertime each day, but when Bernice was coming in, I'd close the shutters on the front window – her request, mind you – and I'd teach her what I knew.
"She was particularly fond of a waltz. Turns out, so was I, so I didn't protest. I love a good waltz, or maybe it's three-quarter time in general because it so happens to be my favorite time signature in music, too. It's one of the tenderest, you see, the most intimate. To have a truly good partner in closed position, once you become well acquainted it's like your bodies become one – not entangled but intertwined, melded. Bonded.
"During breaks we'd speak about our lives, our thoughts on the world, our dreams. She was 25, of course, five years younger than me. But wise beyond my years. Funny. Inquisitive. Not perfect – who is? But she wanted to be better. Have a good life. Be a light in the world. Even though she was all the light I ever could need."
Belle laughed, and at first Gideon thought it was about something O'Hare had more recently said. Instead – "I'm sorry, I just can't picture Bernice dancin'. Please tell me you took video."
"Alas," the rabbit sighed, pointing toward his forehead. "It's only up here. And," he frowned, "I guess that's all it'll ever be."
A kind-looking sheep orderly poked his head around the corner of the room. "Visitors!" he exclaimed. "Sorry, just wanted to check on our friend here …"
"I'm fine, sir," O'Hare beamed at him, though Gideon could not help but notice the moisture that had accumulated around his eyes. "Thank you."
"Need a water refill?"
"Ah, yeah, actually, that'd be great –"
"Talk soon, then. Not to rush, though, but the doctor said he'd like to give you a once-over again soon. Just to make sure everything's still working like it should."
O'Hare nodded. "Won't keep him too much longer. Thanks again."
The sheep's head disappeared from the doorframe, and O'Hare sighed, laying his head against his pillow again. "They didn't even think I'd be awake yet. Whatever I was shot with really did a number on me. They said I came in practically comatose, eyes still open, everything. Not a sight you wanted to look at, that's for sure. But they've got me on some experimental antibody. Worked, but I think that's why they want to keep checking me out. Want to make sure it holds. I can tell you whoever darted me didn't think I'd be talking to you or anyone right now, that's for sure."
"Right, so … about that day," Belle started. "Or I guess, the day before, since that's when …"
"She was coming to see me," the hare said with a bob of his head. "Gods, I wish I had gone to get her, but she insisted on taking the bus. I was at the mayor's house, so I was in Bunnyburrow, but I could've driven … but she said it was urgent, she was already on her way."
"Did she … make it?" Gideon asked, speaking for the first time in a while.
O'Hare shook his head solemnly. "She never arrived. She texted me when she got in, which was weird because she had called earlier and said she didn't want to explain over text. Or the phone, for that matter, but she thought that was better. She thought they were more likely to find her texts than listen in to her calls.
"W-wait," Belle stammered. "Who's they?"
"That's what I think she was coming to tell me. But then I got the text that said she was fine, actually, and that she was going back home, don't worry about her."
"Home as in her dorm? Or home as in …"
"I assumed her dorm. I didn't press, though. I said I'd drive out and see her in the morning before my sessions began. And then … well, I heard the news the next morning.
"And I should've pressed, mind you. I should've gone to her. I should have said something." The hare raised his voice at these final words, tears welling in his eyes. "But I was so wrapped up in the campaign, and I … I wasn't there for her, and …"
"Silver," Belle laid a paw on his shaking arm, though it barely had an effect, "do you know what she was coming to tell you about?"
"Well, y-you see, we –" O'Hare's orange eyes darted around the room, as though searching for someone who had not been there before, or something – perhaps a camera, "we've never been able to prove it, find the smoking gun, but … the mayor's opponent, Stone Parsley, we had heard what we thought were fairly credible allegations of voter fraud for the upcoming election. Again, no proof. But Bernice knew about it, said she would keep her ear to the ground.
"Turns out she had a class with Parsley's nephew, some prick who liked to run his mouth about things. She said … she said she would try to coax something out from him. Suggested it the day before when we last saw each other, actually. Then comes the call, and … I think it might have had something to do with something she found out. Something she probably wasn't supposed to know."
"Goodness," Gideon muttered, mouth agape.
"And you told Brerington this already, right?" Belle demanded. She was standing again, and Gideon noticed that tears had begun forming in her eyes, too. "He knows? I bet he's on his way to Parsley's house right now, I swear to the gods, if that son of a —"
"Brerington? The Bunnyburrow constable?" asked O'Hare.
"Yeah, he came by last night, he said. Was so proud of getting the first interview with you or whatever."
O'Hare's fur was already white, but Gideon was certain it had turned a shade even paler than before.
"I … I woke up this morning," stuttered the hare. "I haven't talked to anyone else. Just you two."
END
I'm gonna finally finish this thing. I'm gonna do it. Swear on me mum.
Whether you're here from before or are newly part of *motions around wildly* whatever this is, I appreciate you giving this old-ass story the time of day!
New chapter soon. And then the finale. Let's effin rage.