Judy was caught flat-footed by the impact, knocked straight off her feet and halfway across the living room, where she lay curled on her side. Alfie took a step toward her.

That tore it.

Nick lunged forward, grabbed the groundhog by the scruff of his neck, and threw him headfirst into the wall. There was a crunch of plaster as the drywall gave way, sending flecks of aged paint into fur. Nick pulled the Alfie back and into a headlock, jamming his shoulder back against the wall.

The groundhog seemed to have fully committed to his awful decision, and thrashed viciously against his captor. Nick felt his paws leave the floor a couple of times, but hung on gamely, tightening his arm around Alfie's neck as he struggled to get control of the other's free arm. It was a war of attrition, now, wherein one mammal was a fox in the best shape of his life, while the other was a mammal resources manager.

It must have become obvious to Alfie that he was going to lose, because he abruptly whipped his head down and sank his teeth into Nick's paw. Stars exploded across the fox's vision as the groundhog twisted free from his grip.

Nick punched him in the face. It connected hard, and Alfie reeled backward, smashing into a coat rack. Nick hit him again, hard.

As the groundhog went to push himself upright, a gray blur hit him sideways at knee height, sending him crashing over in the other direction. Nick was on him in a second, jamming his face to the floor with his good paw. His other paw, definitely bleeding now, went to his duty belt. Not for cuffs—his partner was handling that.

He unclipped the pouch and pulled the muzzle restraint free, pleather straps flapping in his shaking claws. He struggled to fit it on—the thing was shaped for long, carnivorous muzzles, and his paws were angry and unpracticed—but the decision was made, and he was going to make it work. He clicked the fasteners and pulled the straps taut, digging grooves in coarse brown fur. Stepping away, he caught Alfie's eye. There was a look of impotent hatred and helplessness written on the groundhog's face, something that twisted in the fox's gut even as he felt more than a little personal satisfaction at what he and Judy had just managed.

Nick was breathing a little easier, with the task done, but his heart kept pounding. Alfie had given up struggling, for the moment, but the feeling in his gut was spreading into a kind of buzzing dread, was flitting in and out of Nick's consciousness. He shook his head a little to clear it. Their job wasn't over yet.

"That was not very smart," Nick informed the mammal underneath him.

"Fuck you, Wilde."

"Didn't miss me much, I guess?"

"Never thought about you," gritted the groundhog. "Figured you'd be dead in a gutter by now. Or in jail."

"Well, isn't that ironic. Because...you're under arrest."

"For what?"

"For resisting arrest—"

"You can't arrest me for resisting arrest, you shifty little—"

"For resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and domestic battery."

"Domestic—? Bullshit. What'd she tell you?"

The fox wasn't fully listening. The buzzing was still there, intensifying every time he looked at their prisoner. Alfie continued his protestations as Judy hauled him bodily to his feet. Nick took his shoulder, and the two officers marched him, muzzled and cuffed, out the door. Judy was on the radio with central, relaying Linda Chuckwood's state—not in danger, but in need of attention—and their status, while Nick was enumerating Alfie's rights off the top of his head.

"You memorized those pretty good, fox. Just like the scout's oath, huh? Bet it'll do you about as much good. Year from now, ZPD will have fired your dirty ass. And I'll still be making more than you. And your whore mother."

"Shut the FUCK UP."

The voice wasn't either of theirs. The groundhog turned first to look at Judy, the fox processing her words a moment later. The rabbit was glaring daggers, nose bleeding freely down to her chin from Alfie's blow. She unballed one fist to point at him, paw shaking in fury.

"He spends every day helping people—how dare you even...think you're better than him. You...you abusive jerk."

Alfie, momentarily taken aback by her outburst, had recomposed himself and looked ready to say something horrible again, so...

"Time to get in the car!" Nick declared brightly, forcing the buzzing dread from his mind. He needed to be present for this. They'd made it to the cruiser, so he pulled the door open and shoved the groundhog down by the top of his head, pushing him inside.

Nick slammed the door and turned to his partner. Judy had always had fire. It was part and parcel of who she was: quick to feeling and not afraid to show it. But the sheer, searing lividity of her expression had the fox taking a half-step back in spite of himself. She was, easily, as angry as he'd ever seen her.

The bright blood streaming from her snout didn't help.

"Haha. Carrots. Hey," he began lamely, guiding her out of earshot with a paw. "Take it easy, huh?"

"He can't talk to you like that," she ground out.

"It's a free country."

"Is he the one from...when you were a kid? The muzzle?"

Nick shrugged. "That was a long time ago."

"I'm gonna kill him."

Nick laughed weakly. "You can't kill him, Carrots, we're the police."

She glared at him, but some of the fire faded. Her shoulders slumped.

"You're bleeding, Fluff."

"It's just a little."

"You're little. You don't have that much blood."

She laughed. "Shut up, Nick. I have lots of blood."

"That's for the FME to decide."

"I'm not done talking about this, Nick. You look like you saw a ghost."

"The ghost of my past," he said, waving his paws theatrically. Remembering, belatedly, that one of them was bleeding pretty badly as well.

"I'm serious," Judy insisted.

"Fine, but you're getting medical attention first, once our backup gets here."

She pointed at his bloodied paw. "We're both getting medical attention first."

ZPD headquarters was a madhouse, with several dozen officers running to and fro as Nick and Judy arrived with prisoner in tow. Still handcuffed and muzzled, Alfie had grown quiet, perhaps as the gravity of his situation had begun to settle in. But he'd seemed, from the time Nick had first known him, to be the type of mammal for whom consequences never seemed to stick. More likely, the groundhog was thinking about what he'd be saying to an expensive lawyer as soon as he was able. Or maybe the humiliation of the muzzle was doing its work. The fox's stomach twisted in...contempt, probably. He wasn't sure.

"Hey!" boomed a voice ahead of them, and Fenrir Wolford came bounding around a throng of officers. They'd radioed ahead for assistance, so his appearance wasn't unexpected. Fenrir was bombastic and coarse, though, and Nick would have preferred someone else, at the moment. The wolf drew to a halt in front of them, eyeing their captive appraisingly. He cocked his head

"Yo, everybody!" Wolford howled, seemingly to the entire station. "Wilde finally muzzled somebody!" There was a smattering of whoops and whistles. Nick gazed at the other officer flatly.

"Yeah, thanks, Fenrir. Think you can get this guy to booking while Hopps and me get over to medical?"

Wolford glanced at Judy, did a double-take as he seemed to catch her bloodied face for the first time. "Damn, Hopps. You look like hell. How you holding up?"

Judy gave the wolf a bombastic thumbs-up.

"I love this bunny," he cackled. "Sure, I'll take him. Your name's going on the paperwork, though. This guy looks like trouble."

"Fine," Nick nodded. "Domestic battery, resisting arrest—" He caught Alfie shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. "—assaulting an officer. To start with. We'll come by and get it written up later."

"Got it, fox." Wolford grabbed the groundhog by the arm and began to hustle him off toward booking. "You two kids go smooth out your fur. Oh, and Wilde…"

Nick looked up. Wolford smirked and reached out a claw to snag Alfie's muzzle and jerk it hard, sending the groundhog stumbling forward a few steps. Nick didn't need to see Alfie's face to know what would be written there, the impotent fury and fear and humiliation. He knew it would be familiar.

"...nice work," the wolf winked and laughed, and suddenly the ZPD lobby smelled an awful lot like a dingy basement. Watching the two disappear into the crowd, Nick didn't hear Judy calling his name until she put a paw on his back. He jumped horribly before she ushered him gently in the direction of the force medical examiner's office.

He didn't answer many of the medical officer's questions, he would remember later. The fox had stared at the wall as his partner filled in the officer on the details of the scuffle. The bites on his paw were washed and swabbed down with an alcoholic disinfectant which, some distant intellectual part of his brain acknowledged, burned like absolute hell. Judy's eyes flicked to his paw and up to his face, his lack of reaction. He caught her ears tucking behind her head in worry, and wondered if she ever minded having such an obvious tell.

"...should take care of it for now, but you'll want to take it to urgent care," the medic was saying. Nick stared at him dumbly.

"He will," Judy answered, nodding vigorously. "I mean, we will. Thank you."

She clapped Nick on the shoulder, and it was like a dozen paws grabbed him. He shrank away.

"Come on, partner," she murmured. "Let's get outside."

They walked in silence for a minute, heading out towards the motor pool. The rabbit didn't menace him with any further grabs or touches, but she was stealing looks at him when she thought he couldn't see. Stewing. It wasn't until they were seated in the car that she spoke up again.

"Is something wrong, Nick? I know what that groundhog said to you—"

"No." His tail lashed irritably.

She hissed in frustration. "Come on, you're being weird. Can we talk about what happened?"

"No. Let's just go."

"Fine," she said, patting the keys in the ignition. "But I'm not going anywhere until your seatbelt's buckled."

"What?!" he demanded, frustrated. What?

He looked up at the belt dangling over him, metal buckle glinting. The buzzing was back. She—Judy—was frowning now, speaking sharply to him from a hundred miles away. She was angry at him, throwing her paws up, why was she—

"What did I DO?"he spat, baring his teeth.

She stopped mid-gesticulation, looking at him oddly for the second time that day. But there was nothing but inexplicable horror coursing through him now. The car was closing in on him.

"What did I do?" he repeated, more softly. He was looking around, feeling his voice break and his breath get short as frustration gave way to fear. The rabbit was staring at him. The car was getting smaller, and she was getting farther away. His heart pounded in his chest.

She'd disappeared out of the car, somehow. Nick was alone with the terror. He kicked out at the dashboard as it rose toward his face, trying to twist away from the paws of the seat back as they swiped at his shoulders.

What did I do?

Then there was air and sun on his face as she threw open the passenger-side door. Her face was worried, her words cajoling. Offering him a paw, at arm's length. She didn't move forward when he shrank from her, but kept her paw out. Kept talking softly. Asking him if he wanted to get out.

Yes.

Haltingly, he reached out, leaning away from the seat to take her paw. It was small and soft, and she didn't pull him, coaxing him gently out of his seat. He lowered a shaky footpaw onto the running board of the cruiser, the rabbit still murmuring encouraging words. She guided him back down to the asphalt, then towards the front of the vehicle, over to the tire. He leaned against it and slid down onto his haunches, staring at nothing, ears pinned back.

He was hyperventilating, staring at nothing, but the rabbit was still there, positioning herself directly in front of him—big shimmering pools of violet salve that he could tumble into.

"It's okay," she was saying.

"What did I do?" he asked, desperately.

She shook her head. "You didn't do anything."

"What did…"

"You didn't do anything. You're here with me, Nick."

"Here?"

"We're in the parking lot of the ZPD. You're with friends."

His breathing, still heavy, was slowing.

"What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything."

Parts of the past five minutes were coming back, commingling with a guilt and fear that was much, much older. It all ran together, somehow.

"I...I made you mad."

"It's not your fault, Nick."

"I'm sorry."

Her mouth hung open, and it occurred to him that she'd probably never heard him apologize for anything.

"I'm sorry," he said, for that too.

"Nick—," she said, reaching out and capping the tip of his nose with a paw. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's okay."

Another, cooler part of him was beginning to stir, recognizing the wreck he'd transformed into in front of his police partner, and signalling to Nick Central the extent of this embarrassment. He reached out and took her wrist, lifting it away from his nose and toward her lap.

"Carrots," he said. "Partner. Fluff. You can't tell anybody about this."

"Of course not. But—"

"Not really on-brand for ol' Nick."

"I don't care if you're on-brand."

"Not sure they let you have this type of thing and be a cop."

She put a hand on his paw again. "They do, Nick. There's services." She blinked. "Does this happen a lot?"

"Not...not really," he said, surprised he was being so honest with her. He didn't have the energy to do anything else. "Two or three times a year."

She looked like she was thinking.

"Please don't tell anyone," he said again, to forestall whatever she was going to say next. "Not even my mom knows."

The bunny gave him a Look.

"Okay, two things," she said. "One, partner, I have got your back. Always. I'm not going to tell anyone your business."

"Yeah?" he replied lamely.

"Yeah." She squeezed his paw with uncanny strength. "And, two...you're a huge dummy and you should absolutely tell your mom because she loves you."

"You haven't even met my mom."

"I did, once. At the graduation. She's a sweetheart."

"She'd worry."

"Let her worry about you," Judy insisted. "She's your mom."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"Anyway…" Judy went on. "Sorry. I was supposed to be helping."

He gave her a smile. A real smile, not his usual brand. "You did. You are."

She looked almost relieved. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, Carrots. Thanks. I owe you lunch."

"Hmm. I think, first, I owe us both a drive to urgent care."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot we were grievously injured." He waggled his bandaged paw.

Judy glowered. "That guy was really one of your Junior Ranger Scouts?"

"Real piece of work, huh?"

"Oh, I am going to show up for his arraignment," she said, thumping her foot. "With popcorn."

Nick nodded seriously. "I'll bring a soda. And slurp it really loud."

She laughed, and stepped around his knees to hug him from the side. He jumped again, but just a little, and relaxed, putting his good paw around her back.

"So huggy," he admonished.

"Whatever," she said. "You could use more hugs."

"Someone's gonna see us, though."

"Hugs aren't against regulations."

"They're gonna think we're canoodling, Carrots."

"Ugh, fine. You're gross."