Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Prologue

Judy collapsed on her chair with an exhausted sigh escaping her muzzle. Usually, the end of her shift saw her energized, just as she had envisioned it when she was a small kit, and her first dreams of becoming a police officer started growing in her mind. It didn't matter if she captured a criminal, finished paperwork on one case or another, or spent her day on parking duty. Her job brought her joy and fueled her in ways coffee never could.

That changed two months earlier, though. After a brief call from dispatch, hers and Nick's regular patrol changed into an intervention in one of the abandoned warehouses in Downtown. Rumors of potential drug distribution taking place there reached ZPD's ears, and since they were the nearest unit available, the bunny-fox duo was sent there to investigate the place.

What neither of them expected was to be met by an armed group of mammals, who wasted no time in shooting at the two police officers.

Judy had a truly odd memory of that day. Everything was happening so fast that she couldn't decipher at what point their intervention took the wrong turn. However, it was also happening so agonizingly slowly, that those events still haunted her dreams with painful details. Each time she closed her eyes, she could see herself and Nick entering that warehouse. The momentary shock of the group of no more than five mammals was quickly replaced by a cold determination to get rid of the witnesses and secure their stuff. Guns were drawn and pointed at them, and bullets flew in their direction.

Nick called for back-up almost immediately after they both found shelter behind a stack of crates. Equipped only with their tranquilizer guns, the two cops had to wait for their colleagues to arrive. It certainly didn't help that neither of them had their bulletproof vests – units on patrol weren't required to wear them, and it was an unbearably hot day back then.

Unfortunately, the group they'd ambushed wasn't keen on waiting for more cops to arrive. It didn't take long for them to force Judy and Nick out of their hideout, sending them on a mad pursuit for safety. And only she managed to accomplish their goal.

With Nick covering her, Judy first heard a dull thud of a body hitting the ground. A split second later, after finding refuge behind yet another stack of crates, the bunny turned around.

Only to see her partner, her best friend, lying motionlessly on the ground, with a pool of blood quickly gathering beneath him.

After that, Judy didn't remember much. At some point, the back-up arrived. The five criminals have been overpowered. Someone called for an ambulance. Someone was yelling something at her as Judy clung to Nick's body, desperately searching for a pulse after pressing a ripped piece of her own uniform to his chest to stop the bleeding. Finally, someone pulled her away from him, and two medics grabbed her partner, put him in the ambulance, and rode away from the warehouse as fast as they could to the nearest hospital.

But despite their best efforts, it was announced an hour later that Officer Wilde died on the spot. The bullet pierced his heart, killing him instantly.

Just as was always the case she was recalling those painful memories, a lonely tear rolled down Judy's cheek before she even had the chance to force her eyes to cooperate. With the digital clock showing five in the afternoon, Judy, against her better judgment, opened the bottom drawer of her desk. Pushing some unimportant papers and personal stuff aside, the gray bunny pulled out a framed photograph. It used to stand on her desk, but after the fateful events in that warehouse, Judy didn't have the strength to look at it constantly. And so, the bottom drawer became the photograph's new spot. Far enough not to force Judy to stare at it but close enough to allow her to torment herself whenever she wanted. Or needed because of her heart's sick desires.

The photograph depicted her and Nick after a concert of his favorite band, with the main vocalist standing behind them with his paws on both of their shoulders. Judy couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped her, despite her somber mood, as she remembered how ecstatic Nick was upon finding out that the band was coming to Zootopia. With him constantly browsing his social media pages, he quickly stumbled upon the information. No more than five minutes later, he announced to her that he had purchased two tickets.

For each of Judy's arguments, Nick had a counterargument prepared. When she said that she didn't have the money to pay for her ticket, he dismissed her worries by claiming she didn't have to pay him back. When she said that she didn't know this band, he promised to introduce her to it. As a result, their music was the only one they listened to on patrols or after work, when they were simply hanging out. Nick wouldn't allow her to change the music during that time. He made sure to replay his playlist multiple times until, finally, she memorized all those songs and admitted to liking the band.

Judy never told him that it took only one day for her to fall in love with Nick's favorite band. She just couldn't bear the thought of his teasing smirk and countless 'I told you so,' that would have been sent in her way.

And so, she reluctantly agreed to go with him. The tickets he purchased allowed them to stand as close to the stage as possible, and even enter the backstage after the concert, where the photograph she was holding, and countless others, saved on Nick's phone, were taken.

Sometime after the fateful intervention, while wasting her time doing absolutely nothing on ZooTube, Judy stumbled upon the band's new song, released a few days earlier. Intrigued by the title 'Wrecked,' she played it.

Only to spend the rest of that evening in tears, curled up in her bed. The song, heartbreakingly beautiful, was written because the main singer's sister-in-law died prematurely. Every single word of that song tugged at Judy's heart, reminding her that her best friend was gone.

Since then, she didn't dare to listen to any song from that band.

The fingers of her paw lingered above Nick for a few more seconds, just as yet another tear rolled down her cheek, landing on the photograph. He was so happy back then. Despite growing up with almost three hundred siblings, Judy could remember only a few times when someone was as excited as Nick before, during, and after the concert. On their way back, when he was driving her home and the band's songs were being played, he told her of his hidden love for music.

Judy listened with great interest as Nick described another band, much older than the one they'd just seen, and how he used to listen to them all the time when he was a kit and had a chance. 'Classic,' was the word he used to describe their songs. He explained how he believed that in the future, that band would be recognized by everyone as classic rock. Judy remembered how his smile vanished as he described the band's most recent history. He said that a few years earlier, before they even met, he found out that they had a concert in Zootopia, but he was too late to purchase tickets. He promised himself not to miss it the next time they were going to visit.

A month later, Nick read on the Internet that the main vocalist committed suicide in his house.

So many deaths, Judy mused, once again tracing her blunt claw along the fox in the photograph.

A gentle knock on the entrance to her cubicle, the cubicle she used to share with Nick, brought Judy out of her thoughts. She quickly put the photograph away, face down, before looking up.

"How are you holding up, Hopps?" Chief Bogo asked, leaning against the thin wall. Judy never understood how it was able to support his weight, and she never dared to ask that question out loud. She took in a trembling breath before answering.

"Good," Judy said, forcing the tiniest smile onto her muzzle. "Just finished doing paperwork on that purse snatcher," she added, handing the Chief a few papers, held together by a single binder. The large buffalo took it, glanced over it, and put it away.

"That's not what I meant," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "The hearing is tomorrow. Are you sure you want to be there?"

Judy was nodding her head before Bogo even finished speaking. Even though the five mammals were captured during their intervention, the death of an officer brought more paperwork than anyone could predict. As a result, the case stretched for a very long time, and it was supposed to be concluded only the next day.

Judy wasn't scared of the result of the hearing. Drug and firearms possession, killing an officer on duty, and a few other petty crimes each of them committed in the past guaranteed them at least thirty-five years in prison. If not life sentence. And she needed to be there. She needed to see justice being delivered to those, who murdered her best friend.

"I have to be there, sir," she replied sternly. Bogo nodded once before his eyes noticed the square frame Judy put away so quickly at his arrival. He picked it up with gentleness no one could suspect from the water buffalo.

Judy didn't try to keep it for herself. Instead, she lowered her head, unable to meet the Chief's gaze.

"We all miss him, Hopps," the Chief said softly, putting the photograph back on her desk. "Tomorrow, it will be all over."

"I never thought something like this would have happened," Judy muttered, staring at her feet.

"None of us have," Bogo replied, sighing heavily.

It was true. No one in Precinct One, or even the entire ZPD, realized how close to death they all were on a daily basis. Of course, there were more than a handful of cases, when an officer was harmed one way or another while on duty, but it's been a while since they had to bury one of their own. And even if Chief Bogo didn't give the order, all the officers started wearing their bulletproof vests the very next day, no matter how high the temperature was.

Judy almost slept in her vest, even though she was assigned to desk duty for the time being. Even Clawhauser started wearing his vest, and he had arguably the safest job in the entire precinct. Maybe except for the Records Department.

"The hearing is at three in the afternoon tomorrow," Bogo said, looking back at her. "We all will go from here. Go home, Hopps. Get some rest."

"Yes, sir," Judy muttered, sliding off of her chair. That was yet another thing that has changed in her behavior. Before Nick's death, she would usually find a reason to stay just a little bit longer in the precinct. Whether to finish some paperwork, or chat with some of her coworkers, but since the accident, she never spent more time in her workplace than absolutely necessary. She stopped arriving with half an hour to spare and, was one of the first to leave when her shift was over. That behavior, while undoubtedly healthy, was also disturbing.

Judy made her way towards the exit of the Precinct One building, not stopping to talk with anyone. Clawhauser tried to get her attention, but she just mumbled something incoherent and increased her pace. The glass door slid shut behind her with a quiet hiss.

The train ride was uneventful, though she didn't head straight home. Instead, Judy left the station close to the cemetery. It became a habit for her to visit the grave of her friend almost every day since his death. Sometimes, she imagined Nick leaning over a nearby tree, snickering as she told him about her day. He would undoubtedly have a witty comment or two to cast in her way. Too bad she couldn't hear them.

"Hi there," she mumbled, staring at the marble slab. The grave was in a pristine condition, just as it always was – there wasn't even a single leave or needle on it. A fresh bouquet of flowers, burning candles, and a melting pawpsicle stuck into the said bouquet meant that both Mrs. Wilde and Finnick were at the grave already.

It surprised Judy at the funeral when the tiny fennec fox stuck a pawpsicle into one of the bouquets, and even more so when she kept finding wooden sticks around the grave, covered with melted sweets, since that day. She confronted him once about it. You aren't the only one who lost a partner and a friend, bunny cop, was his reply. And even though she found it gross, it was somewhat sweet as well. Since then, she simply kept on throwing the empty sticks away, wanting to keep the grave and the area around it as clean as possible.

"Tomorrow is the hearing of those five thugs," Judy said, squatting in front of the grave. She wrapped her arms around her knees to keep her balance. "I'm afraid I don't much to say, though. I'm still on desk duty, and nothing interesting has been happening in the Precinct since… you know," she muttered, wiping angrily at her eyes.

And so, Judy simply stayed in the same position in silence, committing to memory every single detail of Nick's grave. The fact she's done it already wasn't important. It wasn't new to her either to simply sit in silence. She and Nick used to do that sometimes, though those occasions were rare. But still, the silence was never uncomfortable for them. She didn't find a reason why it should be in those new circumstances.

Her cue to leave was when the pawpsicle melted entirely. Some of it landed in the flowers, while the rest was leaking down the marble slab. Judy stood up, took out a tissue, and wiped the grave clean, removing the wooden stick. With sugar in the water, the flowers wouldn't last for long, but she was positive that Mrs. Wilde would replace them in the near future.


"We did this city a favor by getting rid of him!" one of the accused – a male panther – shouted, as he and the others were being escorted out of the courtroom. "You have no idea what Wilde has done in the past!"

He smirked into his glass of whiskey, watching the news with mild interest. The cameramammal managed to capture the reaction of the ZPD officers present at the hearing and Wilde's mother. The red vixen with some hints of graying fur looked ready to faint at any second, while the bunny cop looked as if she was going to rip out the tongue of the shouting panther. And judging by the fact that she was being held back by the nearest ZPD officers, her colleagues shared his speculations.

The courtroom went into chaos after that exclamation. Nicholas Wilde was commonly recognized as one of Zootopia's greatest heroes, alongside Judith Hopps. To say such a thing openly, and with pride, was like pressing a loaded gun against your head in a room full of mammals who wanted you dead. He sighed, putting the empty glass aside.

Life sentence. He chuckled humorlessly. So much pride in the panther's statement, so much certainty that they have done the right thing, and the harshest sentence they could have received, while none of them fired the shot that killed Officer Wilde.

He stood up from the cushioned armchair, turning the TV off. The case of Wilde's death finally came to an end. The deceased officer wouldn't be the star of nearly every ZNN news anymore. Perhaps in ten months, on the first anniversary of his death, they would make material about him. But that was doubtful. Until that day, the entire Zootopia lived with the news of Wilde's sudden and tragic death, but they would forget about him sooner rather than later. With time, the ZPD would go back to its normal pace, and Wilde's name would fade away from the public's memory. A handful of mammals would still remember him, of that he was sure. His mother, the bunny cop… and maybe a few of the officers who were closer to him.

It was a sad thing that he had to orchestrate the murder of Nicholas Wilde, but it was necessary. His employer explained it time and time again. The first fox police officer simply had to be eliminated.

He stood in front of the large window, observing the building, which stood roughly a kilometer from his unofficial prison. His eyes were focused on the upper right window, waiting for the signal he was promised would come. His ears twitched back, and his lips curled up in a smile.

The light in the window was turned on and off three times in rapid succession. His temporary house arrest was over. Of course, it was done for his own safety, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

With quick steps, he moved towards a large, full-length mirror, which stood in the middle of his living room. Dressed only in his boxers, he carefully examined his expression.

His fur was impeccably white – not the slightest hint of discolor. The red veins in the whites of his eyes disappeared already a few days earlier. He traced his paw tenderly on the tiny, almost unnoticeable scar on his neck. The medics were truly capable of doing wonders when forced to. One had to know that he was operated on to be able to find the scar.

Taking the new can of scent spray from the drawer nearby, he emptied it on himself in one go, making sure to cover his entire body. The chemical smell stung his sensitive nose, but he was already used to it. He made a mental note to take the empty can, and a few other bottles, with him. It was truly annoying but necessary for his safety. And the operation's.

Satisfied with his examination, he walked swiftly to the wardrobe; his tail was swinging excitedly behind him. Waiting was finally over.

He pulled out a sky-blue shirt and a white suit, putting all of it on as quickly as he could. He didn't bother buttoning the last two buttons of his shirt. Instead, he allowed some of his chest fur to be visible to the world. Nothing provocative or inappropriate, but fully acceptable in the burning heat of the last summer days.

He hid the empty can in the inner pocket of his jacket while placing the crashed bottles in his pants. He sighed heavily, knowing that he would have to find at least five trash cans to get rid of those things, but the instructions were clear.

A quick sniff of the air told him that the chemical smell of the scent spray was already evaporating, allowing him to leave. With one last look at his reflection in the mirror, he left his apartment, double-checking if he locked the door.

With Nicholas Wilde dead, and his story ending, it was time for Lucas Nightingale to finally show himself to the city of Zootopia.


This is an idea that's been in my head for a while now. Please, let me know what you think of it so far and if you have any suggestions. I have two other WIPs to take care of, but I'll try to update it as frequently as possible.

Also, please note that I'm not a native English speaker, so if you notice any mistakes, feel free to point them out.

Feel free to guess what real-world bands I've 'borrowed.' I'll say in one of the next few chapters ;).