The knife hadn't gone in very far, thanks both to his ribs and the protection afforded by his issued Kevlar vest, so Nick didn't pay it much attention until suddenly it felt like Francine was sitting on his chest.
"I'm telling you, Wilde. Take a hot day and prone-to-melting treats, then throw in a pair of hyperactive tiger cubs?" Shaking her head, Fangmeyer smoothly maneuvered their cruiser through the streets of Precinct One's patrol area. "Richard runs one way, Parker runs the other, both of them are practically covered in sticky syrup and dry macaroni, and I'm standing there wondering how the hell I'm gonna explain this to their parents."
"Oh man," Nick laughed. "What did your brother have to say when he picked them up?"
"He takes in the sight of my completely thrashed apartment and the pair of walking catastrophes standing in the middle of it all, looks me right in the eye and tells me – not even kidding - that I got off easy."
"What?!" The fox cackled as he wiped a tear from one eye. "Lemme tell you, its stories like that remind me how glad I am to be an only kit."
"Wilde, stories like that remind me why I'm never having any of my own. This job and a pair of lunatic nephews provide all the chaos I need."
In the week since Fangmeyer's partner had gone on maternity leave and Chief Bogo had finally forced Judy to take some long-overdue vacation days, Nick had gotten to know the squad's only tiger much better than he would have expected. Many of the larger predator officers had been a little standoffish around him, at least in the beginning, and he'd assumed that she'd be no different.
To his surprise, he'd discovered a friendly and outgoing mammal who may or may not have been responsible for at least three pranks Nick had taken the heat for, and who was almost certainly harboring a crush on a certain unnamed wolf officer.
His musings were interrupted when the tiger gestured to a nearby alleyway and the short figure barely visible in the opening.
"Check it out; El Tejones colors. I think we've found our next contestant."
"Outside the Meadowlands District? Weird."
She nodded, easing the cruiser to a halt just outside the gang banger's line of sight. "What do you want to bet he's holding?"
"No bet." Nick chuckled as he hopped out of the car. "Time for another fun-filled episode of Guess Who's Going to Jail."
"Hey there!" Nick called out, smiling as he sauntered up. The mammal rounded on Nick, his hood falling back to reveal a young badger barely out of his teens. "You wouldn't have an aspirin, would you? I've got a killer headache."
The badger turned to flee down the alley and let out a startled squeak, suddenly faced with a four-hundred-pound tiger that had somehow snuck up on him.
"Don't run." Fangmeyer cautioned him in a low rumble.
"That's good advice, kid." Nick agreed, edging closer as he removed the cuffs from his belt. "I've seen her hit forty miles an hour on a straightaway, and this alley? It looks pretty straight. You'll never make it."
The young mammal looked back and forth between them with increasingly panicked eyes, slowly inching his paw toward his jacket pocket.
Nick tensed, but kept his voice level. "Take it easy, kid. Don't do something you're going to regr..."
With a guttural snarl, the badger lunged at Nick before the fox could dodge out of the way. A sharp burst of pain erupted from his side as the badger tried to tackle him to the ground, but his training – and the ensuing burst of adrenaline – helped him trap his assailant's limb and twist it into a vicious arm lock. Quickly pressing his advantage, Nick drove the other mammal to the ground, wrenched the blade from the badger's paw and pinned him with a knee between the shoulders.
"Damn, Wilde." Fangmeyer let out a low whistle. "Nice takedown."
Nick mumbled a response as he secured the badger's paws, closing the cuffs just a little tighter than he had to. Rising to his feet, he reached around to find whatever injury the little punk had left. Gently prodding up and down his left side, he let out a faint hiss when he came to the small hole in his shirt. Relief washed over him when he withdrew his paw and found only a few drops of blood.
"You alright?"
He nodded, grimacing as he took a seat on the curb. "Yeah, I'm okay."
"You sure?" She pressed, lifting the young gang-banger to his feet. "Maybe I ought to take a look."
"I'm fine, Stripes. The vest took the worst of it." Nick insisted. "Just call it in. I'll be alright until the paramedics get here."
Fangmeyer hesitated for a moment, then Nick watched with smug satisfaction as she walked the cuffed mammal to their cruiser; the self-assumed 'tough-mammal' visibly flinched when the back door slammed shut.
The adrenaline high had begun to fade and Nick loosened his Kevlar vest, hoping to ease the uncomfortably tight feeling around his chest. Taking a deep breath; he found that it seemed to take just a little more effort than it ought to. The next breath was a little more difficult, and within minutes he could barely draw air at all. He could feel himself starting to panic and tried calling Fangmeyer's name; it came out as a strangled whine. Surprised, she turned around just as he began to slump backward.
She was running before he even hit the ground, rushing over and kneeling beside him. She pulled the fox's shirt open and lifted his vest away to expose his injury, gasping softly at the bloody froth of bubbles coming out of wound.
She sprinted back to the cruiser, updating dispatch as she retrieved the medical bag from the trunk. Rolling his head to one side, Nick locked eyes with the perp locked in the car. By his stunned expression, it appeared that the young mammal was having some difficulty getting a grip on what was happening. Nick wondered if he realized he might be responsible for murdering a police officer - a grim train of thought that was derailed when the tiger suddenly reappeared at his side.
"Wilde!" She growled as she pulled a small plastic dressing from the bag and firmly pressed it against his side. "C'mon, Wilde - try to stay calm. I need you to try and take a breath."
He struggled to draw air into his lungs, but it felt like something was crushing him from the inside. As a reddish haze began to creep into the edges of his vision, he saw the tigress expression become uncertain. She paused for what felt like an eternity, then leaned forward to place a single paw firmly over his chest. In the back of his mind, Nick felt a measure of shock at how large it was.
"Okay, Wilde." She said, an almost imperceptible tremor in her voice. "This is probably gonna hurt."
He'd barely registered her warning before he felt her paw tense. A renewed jolt of pain erupted on his right side and his body involuntarily tried to surge upward. Then the pressure was suddenly gone and he fell weakly back to the pavement, hungrily drawing breath after breath. All he could think was how sweet the air was, barely feeling it when Fangmeyer pressed another airtight dressing against his chest.
A wave of exhaustion rushed over him and his eyelids began to feel heavy. He could just make out the sound of the approaching ambulance before he lost consciousness.
"How are we feeling, Officer Wilde?"
Nick opened his eyes and winced at the sudden light. Blinking slowly, the hazy shape before him resolved into an elk in a white coat, clipboard in hoof. "Huh...wuzzat...?"
"You're in Zootopia General, officer." The doctor glanced down at Nick's chart. "I'm Doctor Storrier. Do you remember what happened to you?"
Nick nodded slowly, increasingly aware of the pain in his chest and sides.
"What..." Nick began pulling the oxygen mask off his muzzle. "What…the hell…was that?"
"Pneumothorax, better known as a sucking chest wound." Gently batting Nick's his paws away, the doctor replaced the mask. "The knife wound was letting air into your chest cavity. Every breath you took was squeezing your lungs a little tighter."
"Yeah..." Nick tried for a laugh but only managed a wheezing cough. "Noticed...that."
"It's no laughing matter, son." Dr. Storrier looked down at him seriously. "If your fellow officer hadn't acted so quickly, you might not have made it to the hospital."
"Who...?"
"I'm afraid I didn't catch her name. The tiger?" Storrier continued.
"Fangmeyer. Her name's Fangmeyer." Nick informed him, turning his head toward the open door. Down the hall, amongst a crowd of worried-looking officers, he could see Fangmeyer talking to Judy. More accurately, he could see Fangmeyer standing awkwardly as Judy tearfully thanked her over and over, tightly hugging the tigress' legs.
"What did she do?"
Fangmeyer noticed Nick watching them and smiled, rolling her eyes slightly as she gestured to the distraught bunny.
"The damnedest thing I have ever heard. She went and relieved the pressure by poking another hole in you with her claw, then sealed off both wounds once the trapped air had escaped." The doctor shook his head. "For what it's worth, I do believe that officer passed you one of her nine lives."
Public Service Announcement:
I'm not a doctor and fanfiction shouldn't be taken as medical advice. If you ever find yourself in this situation, DO NOT start poking holes in people. Poking holes in people is BAD.