Chapter Text
Valentine’s Day is here, folks! For those of you in relationships, today will feel like sinking your teeth into a gooey chocolate truffle… sweet and just a little bit messy. For those of you who are single, well, it might feel more like a half-melted bonbon…sweet, but with a slight bite of disappointment. But hey, one thing's for sure... everyone will be thinking about love today.
And speaking of love, there’s a big event happening this morning: Zootopia’s Annual Marathon. Now, love and marathons might not seem like they have much in common, but trust me, they do. Think about it…if you don’t cross the finish line, you’ll never know who’s waiting for you at the end... So, whether you’re running or just chasing love, here’s the perfect song to kick off our Valentine’s Day broadcast: Gazelle’s “Inevitable.” Hopefully she'll give a live performance as rumor has it she’s been invited to today’s second most grand event, with a wedding in full swing, the renowned officer Hopps and—
Nick hears the radio but doesn’t fully grasp the tune. It sounds oddly familiar, he just can’t put his finger on the title.
His head is pounding. The empty bottles scattered around his apartment serve as a reminder of the night before. The fox sighs, placing his paw over his face. Great. This is just what he needs, a hangover.
The alarm keeps ringing for what seems like an eternity. It echoes in his ears, and he swears it's the worst noise he's ever heard.
Wait. Is that a Gazelle song being played? What day is it? How many times has he pressed the snooze button?
Crap.
Nick springs off his bed with so much force he staggers drunkenly, trying to regain his balance. A sharp wince escapes his lips as his waist slams into the dresser.
11:30
The clock beside him reads. He blinks, then blinks harder, hoping he misread it. But no such luck.
Nick doesn't have time to think, as he tears through the room, nearly ripping the closet door apart in his search for his favorite suit. Well, really, his only suit. He quickly slips it on, attempting to fix his fur, before running to the sink. The cold gel runs through his paws as he attempts to style his red pelt. It looks like a mess, but it will have to do.
He hears his phone ring from the bedroom and curses under his breath. He can’t possibly be late. There’s no way. Not today.
Judy Hopps had never been fond of Valentine’s Day.
She didn’t particularly hate it, but it was safe to say it was far from her favorite holiday. The sickening sweets, the paw-made cards, the blooming roses. They were too cliché for her taste. Besides, she’d never gotten the day off; she was always stuck working into the night, while the rest of the officers requested time off. It made her envious, and the memory of it has stuck with her to this day.
But even she has to admit, she couldn’t have picked a better day to get married. It’s unusually warm for a February day. The sun is shining, and the city seems weirdly happy, almost as if they've all been invited to join in on her celebration. It was almost perfect.
Judy sighs.
She barely recognizes the bunny staring back at her in the mirror. Her makeup is simple, glossy lips, shimmery eyes, and just a hint of glitter. A fluffy white dress hugs her waist, with mesh sleeves draping down her arms. Fru Fru had really worked her magic, but something still didn’t feel quite right.
There’s a quiet knock at the door. “Come in,” Judy calls.
The bride’s face flushes as she sees her mom flash her a proud smile. “Oh, honey,” Bonnie sighs, pausing for a moment as she takes in the image of her daughter, “you look absolutely beautiful.”
“You really think so?”
“Well, of course, Judy.”
Judy’s heart skips a beat. “Hoppin’ heck!” she sighs, shaking her head. The tears start to form. “I promised Fru Fru I wouldn’t ruin the makeup, at this rate, it won’t last till the reception.”
Bonnie laughs, giving Judy a gentle pat on the shoulder, “you’ll always be my baby, no matter who you marry.”
“Aw, Mom,” Judy replies, wrapping her arms around the older bunny even tighter, unconcerned about the tears streaming down her cheeks.
After all, weddings are the perfect occasion for crying.
Nick shifts in the back seat, practically bouncing off the walls. His teeth grit, and his knees tap faster than a mouse on caffeine. “Hey, buddy, think you can speed it up a little?”
“I’m trying here,” the pig whines, “today is the Zootopia Marathon. Didn’t you hear? They blocked off ‘bout a dozen streets for the runners.”
His paws sweat as panic bubbles up inside of him, “Yeah, yeah, I know, but this is really, really urgent.”
"If it was that urgent, you’d have left yesterday," the driver jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Nick doesn’t even flinch. With traffic moving slower than Flash on a Sunday stroll, he’s starting to think he’ll never make it on time.
Bonnie and Stu are going to kill him. Finnick will be disappointed. And Judy? She’ll never forgive him.
His stomach drops.
“I’m getting off.”
"What?" his driver asks, turning around, wide-eyed.
Nick doesn't respond; instead, he yanks the car door open, slamming it shut behind him.
The worst part of being a cop was the chases. He was never much of a runner, but if Judy had taught him anything, it was that there was always a way, even if it meant he’d arrive scraping every nerve in his body to get there.
“Seriously, where is he?!” Nibbles snaps at Finnick, while a worried Gary fidgets, sliding back and forth, nervously beside him. They’d been waiting outside the venue for almost an hour, hoping the fox would actually show.
“Chill out, beaver!” Finnick shoots back, fumbling with his phone as he tries to call Nick for what feels like the tenth time that morning. “All that screamin’ ain’t helpin’.”
“Why are you even on my case?!” Nibbles fires back. “At least I showed up on time!”
“What’s going on?” Clawhauser appears out of nowhere, juggling a clipboard, a bouquet, and a suspiciously color-coded schedule. Judy had jokingly suggested Clawhauser take on the role of her wedding planner to save a little money, but it turns out he took the gig a little too seriously. There’s a noticeable shift in the air. Gary pauses his slithering. Nibbles stutters. Finnick swallows. It’s painfully obvious.
“Where’s Nick?” Clawhauser asks, brow raised as he takes in their nervous expressions.
Finnick tries to come up with something, but there’s no use. “No clue, haven’t heard from ‘em since last night,” the small fox admits, shoulders slumping in defeat.
Clawhauser rolls his eyes, shaking his head in denial, “I should’ve known he’d pull this stunt. If I’ve learned anything in all my years working with Nick, it’s that punctuality was never his strong suit. Still… how could he do this to Judy?!”
Finnick can’t think of a single thing to say. Normally, he’d be the first to defend Nick. Years ago, they’d been partners in crime, and even after Nick became a cop, he’d helped Finnick out, sliding him undercover gigs whenever he needed extra cash. But this… this he can’t defend. He can’t wrap his head around Nick doing something like this, especially to Judy.
“Have you tried contacting his neighbors, maybe the elephants know something?” Gary chimes in.
“Trust me, I’ve tried calling everyone,” Finnick says as he scrolls through his contact list, “No one is picking up, it seems like the whole city’s already inside this venue.”
Clawhauser sighs deeply, his paws wobbling under the weight of the wedding supplies. “Well, I’m going in,” he says, looking up at the nearby clock tower, “the ceremony is about to start. I’ll have to figure something out.”
“I’ll go with you, friend,” Gary replies. “Just keep calling him, I’m ssssure he’ll shhhhow up,” the snake urges Finnick before trailing behind the male cheetah.
Finnick purses his lip as he clutches his phone, dialing Nick’s number one more time.
“Where the hell are you, Wilde?”
To say Nick felt exhausted would be an understatement. His head is throbbing, as are his legs, which hammer against the hard pavement. Sweat soaks his suit as it cascades down his body, dripping from his fur with every stride.
If he didn’t look hungover before, he certainly does now.”
As he struggles to catch his breath, the runners and spectators stare at him, looking at him like a savage animal. ZNN will have a field day with this one. He would be mortified if he weren’t so dazed.
What happened last night? Why did I drink so much? What the hell was I thinking?
But of course, he wasn’t thinking.
Once again, he didn’t consider how his actions would hurt Judy. He wouldn't blame the bunny if she never spoke to him again.
Ten minutes later, the red fox appears around the corner from the venue, panting and dropping to his knees.
“You better have a damn good explanation for this, Wilde,” Finnick snaps. “Where were you?”
Nick’s head spins, his body screaming in protest. “Don’t even start,” he growls, struggling to get the words out. “I—it’s a miracle I even made it here.”
“It’s a miracle you can be this late, pal,” Nibbles blurts. “Seriously, how could you do this?”
Disappointment is etched across every face in front of him. A cold wave of dread crashes over Nick.
“Well, get up!” Nibbles nudges his arm, “You’re already so late.”
Nick sucks a deep breath into his lungs. He tries to get up, but his legs fail him. Perhaps the sprint had done too much damage.
“We have to carry ‘em,” Finnick blurts out.
“Carry him?” Nibbles asks, nervously laughing as she glances between the venue and Nick. Just thinking about lifting him up those stairs is making her arms ache.
“Just do it, hurry!” Finnick says, his eyes wide as he grabs one of Nick’s legs. Nibbles groans but snatches the other. The fox is definitely going to owe her a piece of log after this.
The scene is classic, the traditional wedding march, surrounded by a flood of flowers. Judy had carefully paw-picked the bridal wreath for the main arrangement, and it fit perfectly, hanging gracefully among the garlands. The canopy he stands beneath is draped in long strands of white ribbon, and above them hangs a crystal chandelier so enormous it reminded him of the one he’d narrowly dodged at the Zootopia Centennial Gala a few years ago.
Nick couldn’t help but sigh. The place was delicate, like Judy. But also so different. He’d always pictured her choosing something simpler, maybe a quiet field in the middle of the Bunnyburrow meadows. But then again… what did he know?
His eyes tear away from the embellishments as the crowd rises to their feet. This is it.
And then Nick feels the air leave his lungs.
He can still remember that day. Nick remembers Judy as a bright-eyed, determined bunny cop, dedicated, sharp… and utterly readable, fox-repellent and all. His eyes couldn’t help but widen as he looked at the cute bunny in front of him.
“It’s rare that I find someone so nonpatronizing. Officer…”
“Hopps…” She replied, “ Mister?”
“Wilde, Nick Wilde.”
That was years ago.
Ever since that day, Judy and Nick had been inseparable. They solved crimes side by side, burned the midnight oil on paperwork during late shifts, pulled pranks on coworkers, and saved the world together. They’d met each other’s families, shared victories and failures, even after Nick had left the field, Judy had stayed by his side every step of the way.
Unfortunately, the aisle is short. And then, at last, Judy was there. Their eyes locked in a shared, awed gaze, and Judy’s face broke into a radiant smile of pure jubilation. The bunny looked nothing short of breathtaking, her face framed by a soft veil, with delicate flowers and crystal netting adorning her ears. She had always been cute, but today, she looked like an angel come to life.
Nick feels his right paw leave his side, and for a second, he forgets.
Judy’s father takes his paw and, in a symbol as old as time, places it into a paw.
A paw not of Nick’s.
The fox gulps, his heart sinking as he watches Judy being handed over to Wes.
He’d had five years to make up his mind.
In those years, he kept looking for the right moment to tell Judy how much he loved her.
Nick never found the right time.
Nick watches Judy look at Wes. He’s seen that look a thousand times, but this one cuts deeper, because in a few minutes, she’ll be gone from him in a way he can’t undo.
The ceremony is long, boring, and excruciating. The minister preaches about eternal love, and at some point, Nick can’t help but yawn. Throughout it all, Nick becomes lost in his own imagination, desperately trying to divert his attention away from what’s unfolding in front of him.
You should have told her years ago, you idiot, the fox tells himself. He gets so absorbed in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice the sharp glares from everyone around him.
“The rings,” a groomsman hisses, yanking him back to reality. His eyes go wide as he jerks his head toward Judy, only to find her staring at him, puzzled. He realizes, with a jolt of panic, that he’s completely checked out at the worst possible moment.
“Oh—right,” Nick stutters, fishing a velvet box from his pocket and holding it out to Wes like it might bite him.
Their vows were brief, yet to Nick they felt eternal. Words of trust, promises to always be there for each other, and for a fleeting moment, he swore Judy was looking straight at him as she spoke. Of course, it was just his imagination.
“I do!” Wes’s voice rang clear and victorious, drawing laughter from the crowd.
Nick cast one last pleading glance at Judy, but their eyes didn’t meet. Instead, she listens to the minister’s words, focused and serene.
For a second, there’s silence. And for a second, he begs the animal gods above, praying Judy will say anything but—
“I do,” Judy whispered, barely audible.
Nick’s heart sinks like a stone. Every shred of hope vanishes, dissolving like fog under the sun. His pupils dart, unsure where to look, as Wes and Judy share a tender kiss, sealing what he has already lost.
He’s never seen Judy so happy. Not when they had solved the Nighthowler case together, not when they had been promoted to chief detectives together. Not ever.
Nick tries his best to mask the disgust cornering his eyes. But it can’t be helped. He disguises it with a fake smile, clapping wildly along with the crowd.
The ceremony slid into the reception like clockwork. Nick had given Judy a hard time about hiring Clawhauser as her wedding planner, but he had to admit, the big cheetah had wrangled this zoo of a guest list without breaking a sweat. Judy’s 275 siblings, the ZPD, friends she’d made over the years—mammals, birds, reptiles… seriously, who invited the lizards again? Even Wes had somehow convinced the mayor and Gazelle to host. Nick couldn’t help but wonder just how much of a budget blowout that had been.
He hung back, feeling slightly out of place, mentally noting that somewhere in the universe there had to be a rule against this much chaos in one room.
“It's only just dawned on me that Officer Hopps is married,” he overhears Officer McHorn say from across the table.
“I know, right?” Officer Delgatto chimes as he scoops some more food onto his plate, “I'm nearing 40 and I'm still not married!”
“Well, who even cares about getting married!” Officer Zebraxton blurts out as he throws his arm around Nick’s neck, pulling him into a headlock. “Isn’t that right, Nicky?”
Nick scoffs, his nose flaring as he scents the whiskey-wine combo on his coworker. “Right,” he replies, pulling away gently.
The zebra had been drinking before the ceremony had even begun. Nick can't say he blames him; he, too, wishes he were anything but sober.
“Zebraxton, you’re drinking too much,” Officer Bogo warns.
“It’s a wedding, what else do you expect me to do,” the zebra barks back. The mammals watch in agony as he tries to refill his glass with more wine. But he fails miserably, dropping the bottle all over his partner's lap.
“You idiot! I just bought this suit!” Zebrowski screams as he sits there frozen, staring at the mess on him.
“Geez, sorry,” the zebra spits, “it’s not like you don’t have a thousand other suits to wear!”
“All right, all right. Go clean up, you,” Delgatto interrupts, tossing him some napkins, “and Zebraxton, why don't you come with me,” he says as he walks around the table to help the drunk zebra, “I think some water ought to do you some good.”
“How the heck am I supposed to clean red wine off my suit?” the officer scoffs, running toward the restroom.
Bogo laughs softly before turning to face Nick, "They don't seem to stop causing trouble, even here."
The conversation catches Nick off guard. If he’s quite honest, he hasn’t been paying much attention to anything. “Yeah,” Nick mumbles as his eyes focus on the giant carrot cake rolling into the room.
“And you? How are you feeling, Wilde?”
Nick freezes, brow furrowing, “What do you mean, Chief?”
“We’re cops, Wilde, we know how to read animals,” his boss gives him that look. A look Nick knows all too well. He bristles, “I’m fine.”
The buffalo bites his lips, “Wil—”
Before he even gets to hear another word out, a voice comes up behind him. His eyes drag back only to find a pair of wrinkled eyes smiling at him.
“Nick!” Stu Hopps shouts over the music playing in the background.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Hopps.”
Nick got along with Judy’s family—actually, scratch that, he got along great with them. Judy had taken him out to the family farm a few times, and since Nick was a sucker for blueberries, he figured, why not? They’d even shown him the ropes—harvesting, cranking up the old tractor, and picking up all the little farm tricks that came with it. It was a far cry from his usual city life, but he couldn’t deny it, it had been fun.
So Nick is a bit confused about why Stu Hopps seems irritated with him right now.
“Thought it'd be you.”
They stand outside the reception hall, the music thumping so loudly it is hard for Nick to catch every word. Tilting his head, he blinks at him. “What?”
Stu sighs, staring straight ahead, suddenly unable to meet Nick’s eyes. “The mammal who’d take Judy’s paw. I thought it’d be you,” he repeats, this time loud enough for Nick to hear.
“Oh.” Nick blinks, eyes widening. “I guess… I wasn’t Judy’s type,” he mumbled, unsure what to say after a comment like that.
“Geez, is that all you have to say, son?” the rabbit shouts, his voice clearly sharper than he intended. He froze, suddenly aware of the tension in the air, and quickly turned to Nick, murmuring a hurried apology.
Stu falls silent, seeming to deliberate on something. His eyes flick between the reception and Nick, as if making sure no one is nearby. “Don’t get me wrong,” he finally says, “I’m glad my Judy ended up with someone like Wes… good demeanor, good job, great personality… what doesn’t the kid have, ya know?”
A bitter tang coats the fox’s tongue. He’s known that taste for a long time.
Nick and Judy first crossed paths with Wes while investigating a high-stakes case near Tundratown. It revolved around missing ice sculptures—a strange but serious matter, since the producers behind them accounted for a sizable chunk of the district’s economy. With leads running dry, Chief Bogo had no choice but to call in the Zootopia Bureau of Investigation.
Enter Wesley Snowpaw, an arctic hare born and raised in Tundratown, and the district’s lead investigator. Outgoing and effortlessly charming, he carried the preppy confidence of Judy with the streetwise instincts of Nick. Wes was the kind of ally who could open doors and stir up trouble.
Yeah, yeah, he’s perfect.
Nick has heard it before, from Judy, from their friends, hell, even he likes Wes. That's why he had reluctantly agreed to be his best mammal.
Because what’s there not to like about Wes. He is a good mammal – a better mammal than Nick will ever be. He didn't deserve to have him as a friend, especially one who secretly wished for his bride to bail.
Nick swallows. “I completely agree with you, sir.”
Stu chuckles, shaking his head with a wry grin. His arms fold across his chest, but there’s sadness in his eyes as he looks at Nick. “You really have no idea, do ya?”
“What?”
“Ah, forget it, Nick, forget that we had this conversation,” Stu tells him, giving the fox a pat on the shoulder before walking back to the reception.
A few minutes later, Nick finds a cool breeze hitting his face. His feet had dragged him outside the venue, close to a garden of frosted flowers. The temperature had fallen as the sun set, but Nick didn't mind; he needed a punch of cold air after his exchange with Judy’s father.
Nick doesn’t know what to think anymore.
What was he talking about?
Someone clears their throat, and Nick turns around, bracing himself for another round of teasing about being late. But to his surprise, it's not one of his friends. He blinks, his eyes widening as they lock onto a pair of violet eyes staring back at him, their gaze sharp and bright.
Judy passes by, and Nick feels a flush creep across his face, betraying him. He’d been bracing for this moment all day.
“So, how do I look?” the bunny tilts her head, twirling her dress as her lips quirk into a cocky smile.
Nick laughs, crossing one arm over the other as he raises his brow, “You look …perfect.”
“Really?” Judy asks, tilting her head to the other side.
Nick lets out an exaggerated huff. “I meant the dress.” He circles her slowly, eyes scanning her from head to toe like a detective on the job. With a dramatic yawn, he adds, “As for the bride… eh, I’m still on the fence.”
“Nick!” Judy hisses, playfully smacking his arm, “if you keep treating mammals like this, you’ll never get married.”
Nick’s smile fades a bit, his feet tapping nervously as one paw slides into his pocket. “You see, Officer Hopps,” he drags out the words, wiggling his eyebrows, “someone like me? Not really the marrying type.” He tosses a wink, though it’s clear he’s bluffing. “Besides,” he adds with a shrug, “I’ve got vixens to spare. I can play bachelor for as long as I want.”
Judy studies him for a moment, then lets out a dry laugh. “Sure, whatever you say, Slick.” She can hardly hold back. “I’m one lucky bunny, it’s a true honor receiving a speech from such an esteemed figure.”
Nick smirks, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “It’s not like I’m doing this for free,” he says, stepping a little closer. “I want something expensive.”
Judy purses her lips. “You better not say anything bad!” She crosses her arms, leaning back slightly. “Careful, Slick, you can go from friend to enemy in no time,” she warns with a look.
Nick snorts, shaking his head. “Honestly, picking your ten most embarrassing moments was tough… they were all too good.”
“Nick!”
“Don’t worry, Carrots,” he breathes, “I wouldn’t do that to you. Not on your wedding day, at least."
There is a long pause, and they stand there, just the two of them staring at each other. It feels eternal, as if this is the last time he'll be able to see Judy this way. And then he hears a faint announcement from inside informing the guests that the speeches are about to begin. Nick hesitates, letting his arms fall to his sides, "you should probably go," he whispers.
Judy nods, moving a little closer to Nick. “Here, take this,” she says, placing something into his paw. Nick curls his fingers around the object and immediately recognizes it.
A pawpsicle.
With that, he watches Judy form a smile before turning around, heading back inside to greet more guests.
Nick’s heart stutters.
Judy knows he reaches for these when he’s nervous. She’ll always know him better than he knows himself.
Nick had mastered the art of public speaking years ago, and the endless press conferences Chief Bogo roped him into only honed his skills even more. But this is different. He’s about to give the most unwanted speech of his life, surrounded by Judy’s friends and family. The stakes are high. It’s his last chance to tell her how he feels, even if it’s just a glimpse of everything he’s been holding back.
All eyes are on the fox, but his focus is entirely on one bunny. He clears his throat, raising a paw to his lips as he summons the courage to speak.
“Judy and Wes,” Nick says, ignoring the little twist in his chest when he says their names together. “I want to sincerely congratulate you on your wedding.”
He hesitates before diving back in. “I’ve known Judy for a long time,” Nick says, shrugging lightly. “The other day I was flipping through my old graduation photos, it reminded me how much trouble we used to get into. We were always the first to hop on a case, even if it meant almost getting ourselves killed.” A ripple of laughter passes through the crowd, and Judy gives him an exaggerated pout that only makes Nick grin wider.
“But,” Nick says, his voice dipping into something warmer, “she also watched my tail more times than I can count. Half the time she cared more about the city’s safety than her own.” He catches Judy’s eyes softening. Nick doesn’t look away as he adds quietly, “That’s just her. She takes care of everyone else first.”
"She is the type of mammal who will drop everything to make you smile..." As he sees Judy's pretty expression crumble, Nick sighs, pressing his lips together before lifting his eyes from the speech. “Judy, you know… mammals tend to get boring once they tie the knot,” he says, the smirk wobbling for half a second. “Tragic, really. One day you’re fun, spontaneous, dodging explosions together… Next thing you know, you’re arguing over curtain colors.”
Judy freezes, her eyes wide and swimming with sadness as tears spill freely down her cheeks. The sight only twists the knife deeper. Nothing hurts more than seeing the bunny cry.
No longer wanting to see Judy in pain, he decides to turn his attention back to the crowd. “Bunnies—they’re so emotional, aren’t they?” he jokes, earning another wave of laughter. “Anyway,” he continues, sliding back into his practiced grin, “I really couldn’t picture a better match for Judy. So, as her friend… I wish her the absolute best.”
Nick lifts his glass. “Alright, everyone, a toast to Mr. and Mrs. Snowpaw, congrats!”
The crowd erupts into cheers, and he leaves the podium, trying his best not to meet Judy’s teary eyes.
The reception hall turns into an even wilder afterparty. The daughter-father dance is over, the formal photos are done, and now the space belongs to celebration. Guests weave through the room, glasses rise, and cheeks flush from dancing and excitement. From a corner, he can hear his friends laughing as they sway left and right. Even Flash and Priscilla, moving at glacial speed, are somehow dancing and singing along, which is honestly impressive and slightly terrifying. Nick himself is doing his best to chug a cold beer without looking like a complete disaster. Judging by the chaos around him, he’s probably the only sane mammal sitting at a table, but that’s fine. Everyone else is too busy shaking and stepping on each other’s tails to notice him anyway.
He isn’t sure why he’s still here. He should have left. The wedding’s over, and all that’s left is the empty buzz of noise.
“There’s my best mammal!” Wes booms, grabbing Nick by the neck with a grin.
“Wes…” Nick groans, trying to squirm free.
“How dare you make my bride cry in front of me!” Wes says, tugging again, clearly a little tipsy.
“Seriously? You’re blaming me? You, of all mammals, should know how emotional she gets,” Nick says with a forced smile.
“I still can’t believe it,” Wes sighs happily, leaning back with a dreamy grin. “Judy Hopps… married me. Crazy, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Nick says flatly, keeping his face neutral. “Unreal.”
“Unreal is one word for it,” Wes laughs. “But you and your speech— that was something else, Wilde.”
Nick raises a brow. “Something else? You mean… good or bad?”
Wes smirks, nudging him. “Good. Really good. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I guess,” Nick says, running his tongue over his teeth. This is definitely the booze talking. Wes doesn’t do compliments. Ever. Not to anyone, especially not to the fox.
The hare smiles, then admits, “You know, I used to be jealous of you, Wilde.”
“What?” Nick blinks, eyebrows shooting up. “Jealous? You? That doesn’t even sound like your thing.”
Wes lets out a sour sigh. “For a while, I felt like I couldn’t compete with the time you two had shared. I’ll never know what Judy was like during her rookie days, or the struggles she went through… But during your speech… I realized I don’t need to be jealous anymore. That’s why I’m grateful, even if most of her memories are with you. From now on, she’ll share some with me.”
Nick snorts, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “So, let me get this straight, I got the fast lane chases through Zootopia, and now you’re stuck with the scenic route, complete with speed bumps and photo ops.”
Wes laughs, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Exactly.”
Nick rolls his eyes, though he can’t help the smile. “Wes, you’re really leaning into this whole ‘happy groom’ thing, huh?”
“Did you notice?” Wes grins, giving Nick a playful pat on the back.
“Yep,” Nick mutters, wry and unamused.
Nick’s friendship with Wes had once been so effortless, easy as breathing. But ever since the hare started pursuing Judy, it had become a constant strain. In Nick’s eyes, Wes wasn’t just a friend anymore. He was a threat. A threat that could take Judy away.
And in the end, Nick’s fox intuition had been right.
He feels the familiar weariness settle over him. He knows he should force a smile, congratulate Wes again, and find something to say to break the one-sided awkwardness. But he can't summon the strength to care.
“I’m just relieved that you never liked Judy, like that.”
The music shifts, and Wes pats Nick on the shoulder again, this time, a little too hard.
“If I’d been competing against you,” the hare admits, voice quieter now, “I wouldn't have stood a chance.”
Nick doesn’t utter a word, just nods, watching Wes hop back to the floor, gliding his paws down Judy’s waist so naturally, twirling her like the pretty bride she is. Judy throws her head back, desperate giggles escaping her mouth as she wraps her arms around Wes’s neck. They feverishly dance against each other, their mouths finding one another, disco lights shimmering off their sweaty fur.
They are in love.
And Nick lets pain set in. He can feel the tears fighting their way past his lashes and feels one slide down his face.
Crying. At Judy's wedding. Pathetic.
He is pathetic.
He swallows hard, pulling away from the table, desperately searching for an exit. He leaves the same way he arrived this morning, by running.
Nick clutches his chest as the cold night burns his lungs. Tears blur his vision as he stumbles toward a riverside park. He collapses onto a bench, muffled sobs lost in the wind, haunted by the image of Judy kissing Wes at the altar again and again.
Ever since Judy announced her engagement, this was the first time Nick had truly cried. He’d tried to keep busy, burying himself in work or drowning the thought at the nearest bar, but nothing erased it.
Judy being married, it felt like the setup to a bad joke he’d never heard before.
"Hey, remember that bunny cop you’ve been secretly in love with? Well, she’s off the market." But nope, no punchline. Just cold, hard reality. With a veil. And a really expensive wedding.
Nick takes a shaky breath, but it’s no use. Another harsh sob wracks him. The thought of Judy not needing him anymore starts to haunt him; no more late-night talks, no more hanging out, no more of anything. She’s got Wes now.
“You don’t usually end up with your first love,” a mysterious voice chimes in. “At best, you marry the mammal you love second most.”
Nick freezes. Blinking through swollen eyes, he turns to see a dodo bird standing there. Mortifying, to say the least, not because of its presence, but because it shouldn’t be here.
The bird wears a tiny, worn waistcoat with brass buttons and a little pocket watch dangling from a chain across its chest. A miniature top hat sits crooked on its head, giving it a strangely dignified, old-fashioned air. Faint, sparkling dust drifts around it, as if it had just stepped out of another century entirely.
“What are you?” Nick asks, his voice sharp, eyes narrowing. The bird tilts its head, ruffling its feathers slightly, as if trying to puzzle out the meaning of ‘what.’
“Instead of asking what I am,” it says, voice smooth and deliberate, “you should ask why I’m here.”
Nick bites his lip, eyes narrowing in annoyance. He wasn’t exactly in the mood for a riddle. “Do you know me?”
“Who doesn’t know you?” the bird scoffs, its beady eyes glinting. “You’ve only saved the city about a gazillion times.”
Nick feels the pieces click together. Of course. This isn’t some mystical oracle or kindly stranger. He’s a con. A slick little hustler, probably looking to weasel him out of a buck or two. His stomach tightens, and he snaps his head toward the bird, glaring. “Alright, then. What exactly do you want from me?” His tail twitches, and his fur bristles, a warning in the air.
The bird snorts. “Actually, it’s the opposite of that. I’m here to give you the miracle you’ve been wishing for.”
“A miracle?”
“Shall we go back to your first question?” the bird says, turning his attention to the calm river, “Who am I?... I’m a conductor.”
Nick blinks at him. “A conductor?”
“Yes.”
The bird begins striding along the riverbank, and Nick follows, though every police instinct in him screams not to. Yet something invisible tugs him forward, and despite knowing better, he moves.
“But I’m not an orchestra conductor or anything like that…” the bird says, its voice calm, almost teasing. “I conduct something a little more special, like this.”
With a snap of its clawed finger, the world changes. The traffic on the bridge screeches to a halt. In fact, all of Zootopia has frozen in place. Cars, buses, pedestrians, and even the gentle flow of the river stop.
Nick’s movements suddenly feel too fast, disjointed, as if time itself is slipping through his paws. His head snaps from side to side. The city spins around him, and for a moment, the world tilts, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.
Nick stiffens. “That makes no sense.”
The bird’s expression hardens, a flicker of irritation crossing his face, though he can hardly blame Nick for doubting. “Most animals,” he sighs, rubbing his fingers over his brows, “never understand or believe right away. They need to see it at least three times before it sinks in.”
Slowly, he raises his claws to the right. Instantly, the dark sky above explodes into blinding brightness, yet Nick can see glowing swirls drifting all around him. Every detail, every line, every shape, is razor-sharp, impossibly clear. Nick spins within the twisting tunnel of color, suspended like a planet caught in a celestial dance, his stomach flipping as the world bends and swirls around him.
It is incredible, and then it devolves into pure hell. Nick screams in agony, letting out a shriek. His body felt as if it were being squeezed through a too-small hole, as if every bone was being pulverized and every living tissue was shredding.
Then it stops.
He lands on a cold metal surface. The sharp scent of worn leather mixed with stale gasoline and something faintly sweet, like a spilled energy drink, stings his nostrils. Above him, peeling stickers of faded band logos clung stubbornly to the ceiling. His gaze drifts to the passenger seat, settling on the same ridiculous patch of duct tape, worn and stubborn as ever.
He would recognize this place anywhere. It's Finnick's van.
Nick scrambles to his feet, eyes wide, heart hammering. “Who the hell are you?” he demands.
The bird moves with an unsettling calm, gliding across the small room, his claws tracing a foggy window. “I’m the one who’s going to grant you your deepest wish,” he says, voice smooth, almost teasing.
Nick watches every movement, muscles tensed. One wrong step, one misread gesture, and he fears this creature could send him to the end of time itself.
“So, you want to go back in time?” the bird asks, low and measured, though there’s a thread of tension beneath the calm. “I can grant that, but tell me, Nick, will you do better this time?”
“Better?” Nick echoes.
“Experience shows animals don’t change that easily,” the bird replies.
Nick’s mind races, spinning, scrambling for words. “T-that makes no sense, you’re saying you can actually send me back in time?”
The bird scoffs, an incredulous tilt to his beak. “And yet… you still won’t believe what’s right in front of you.”
Nick swallows hard, trying to steady his voice. “I-I just… I can’t believe it. Is… is this really the past?”
Well, first comes the wedding, then comes a cuckoo bird hurling me through the space-time continuum. Judy was right—that time-travel movie she had made us go see...Definitely best watched awake. Could’ve avoided this mess if I’d actually paid attention.
“Look around you,” the bird counters, throwing his claws up in defeat. “Does this look like the present to you?”
Nick clutches an old popsicle stick lying on the floor, the weight of realization sinking in as his eyes wander over Finnick’s cluttered, chaotic belongings. He glances at the conductor, and after a tense moment of silence, asks quietly, “Why are you giving me a chance? What’s in it for you?”
“Let’s just say I know a thing or two about regrets,” the bird says, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.
“Come again?” Nick frowns, blinking in confusion.
The dodo shakes his head and turns towards the bed where Nick sits. “Forget it. I think that’s enough for now. I hope you enjoy your trip.”
“When can I go back to the present, uh, I mean, the future?” Nick asks.
The mysterious creature grins, calm as ever. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I’ll decide when.”
“What?!” Nick’s eyes widen, genuine panic creeping in. “You’ll decide?!”
He leaps to his feet, calling after the conductor as he bolts for the van’s door, but the bird doesn’t even glance back. He sighs instead, voice drifting behind him: “Don’t forget, a case isn’t over until the officer can answer every question. Life’s the same way.”
And just like that, Nick is left standing alone, those words echoing in his mind, buzzing louder than his own racing heartbeat. Suddenly, a sharp bang rattles the metal frame, making his head throb harder.
"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" Finnick’s voice booms from outside, muffled but unmistakably deep as ever. "We're gonna be late!"
Nick opens his mouth to speak, but the sour taste of his own breath, whiskey-soaked regret—a lifestyle he was all too familiar with—stops him. The door slid open with its usual screech, and Finnick’s gruff voice followed immediately.
“You alive?” Finnick grumbles, scowling like Nick had just kicked his favorite toy.
“You,” Nick stares, wide-eyed. “You look younger.”
The smaller fox raises an eyebrow, his voice low and sharp. “Save the compliments, Wilde.” He climbs in with a huff, paws thudding on the metal floor. “Did you forget all the crap you put me through yesterday or somethin’?”
“Listen, Finnick,” Nick says, running a shaky paw through his fur. “If you’re mad about carrying me inside the wedding, I’m sorry, I-”
Finnick froze, looking at him like he was crazy.
“I’m serious, Finnick,” Nick says, swallowing hard, his voice tight. “It’s like I’ve gone back five years. I don’t belong here. I mean, I was a cop… well, I still am, technically, but after the accident, I got stuck doing paperwork all day at the office. But I work with the ZPD now, and yesterday, we were at the wedding. You were with Nibbles and Gary. Remember?”
“You? A cop?”
“Yes.”
Finnick bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over. “You really are out of your mind, Wilde,” he gasps between laughs. “This is the craziest crap you’ve ever said, and trust me, I’ve heard some nonsense from you.”
Nick’s arms fall to his side in defeat. “You done?” he asks, voice flat.
Finnick slides into the driver’s seat, wiping away some tears, as he turns the key. The engine coughs then roars to life with that same uneven rumble Nick remembers. The vibrations shake through the van and him, grounding him to a reality that felt more like a memory.
“Well,” Finnick says, shifting gears, “until you figure out what year your brain thinks it’s in, we still gotta work. Bills don’t disappear just because you did.”
Nick lets out a half-laugh as the van jerks forward. “I time-travel, and the first thing I get to do is work. Just what I needed.”
“Welcome back to reality,” Finnick says with a grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Before the red fox could even catch his breath, the van shot forward again, throwing him back onto the floor.