Chapter 4

Nick wasn't used to complete silence. As quiet as Judy tried to be, there was always the soft pattering as she walked around the apartment, a shifting of things in the fridge, or a gentle thump as she moved something off the couch. She was respectful, of course, understanding that mornings wouldn't ever be something that Nick loved, but complete silence wasn't something she was able to achieve easily, and the noise had become an unexpected source of comfort.

However, this morning, the silence seemed to cut through the apartment in a way that noise never could. With a frown, Nick climbed out of bed and stretched before trudging out into the living room. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes falling on the rabbit sitting at the dining room table. A steaming cup of coffee rested on the table, her paw wrapped tightly around the handle of her bright orange coffee mug. The room was still, save for the swirl of steam rising from her cup. Judy stared through it, her eyes unfocused.

In her mind, the fire continued to rage. She could still feel the heat singeing at her fur. She closed her eyes, trying to push the images away, but the falling HVAC felt like it was crashing down on her over and over. Her paw tightened on the handle of her mug, gritting her teeth as she inhaled sharply.

With a sigh, Nick padded over, filling up his mug. The aroma of dark coffee helped the fog in his brain start to lift. He took a sip, sitting across from Judy, and reached a paw out to squeeze her arm. “Earth to Judith. Can you take a break from staring daggers into the multiverse and tell me what's on your mind?”

Judy shook her head and inhaled, sitting up and glaring at Nick. “Judith? Since when do you use my full legal name?”

“Gotta pull you away from the edge somehow. Only one of us is allowed to be emotionally unstable.”

She snorted, staring into her cup. “I'm here. Just thinking. …. Logically, I know we did everything correctly, and we did the best we could, but emotionally?” She paused to think, tapping her finger on the mug.

“We did everything right, but it still went wrong. And I keep thinking. I think, what if we missed something? What if it wasn’t enough?” She whispered.

Nick lifted Judy’s chin and held her gaze. His voice was soft but steady. “Look, life doesn’t pull punches. It hits hard, and yeah, sometimes it knocks us flat. But what matters is getting back up—every time. You did everything you could, Carrots. Maybe it didn’t end the way we wanted, but you made sure she wasn’t alone. That means something. That is something.” He insisted.

Judy took a breath and reached up to wipe her eyes. “That…. that's really profound, Nick.” She cleared her throat, taking a sip of her coffee as she mulled it over, a slight glint in her eye.

“What movie is it from?” she asked, smirking as she finished wiping the tears from her eyes.

Nick gasped in mock offense. “How dare you accuse me of such... accuracy. Okay, fine, Rocky Ballboa. And what?”

Judy shook her head, the edges of her lips curled up in a smile. “Thanks, Nick. l needed to hear that. I wish I could do more for her. I feel like there isn't any closure. We do our best, it doesn't work out how we hope, and we just… move on and go to work?”

“Do you want to skip work today? I'm sure Bogo would understand,” the usual teasing lilt absent from his voice, replaced with a genuine concern

“No… Maybe a little bit, but I don't think that's the answer. “We’re cops. We’re going to have rough shifts. If we tapped out every time something got hard, we’d never show up at all.”

Nick took a swig of coffee, shrugging as his gaze flickered away from her. His ears twitched, the corners of his muzzle tightening a bit. “This was more than a rough shift, Carrots,” he said, his voice a touch quieter than usual. “But yeah, learning to deal with rough things is certainly part of the job."

Nick stood up, finishing his coffee in one long gulp, and placed his cup in the sink. He stared down into the mug for a moment, letting out a soft sigh before shaking his head and looking over his shoulder at Judy, doing his best to give her an encouraging smile, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come on, let's go make the world a better place,” he murmured.

The ride over to the precinct was quiet and somber. While their conversation that morning had certainly helped to lift her spirits, the weight of the evening before was still heavy on her head. She couldn't help but see the red panda's face every time she closed her eyes, and there was an ache in her heart for the memories that would never be made and the relationships that would never get a chance to be formed.

Judy tried to brush off the feelings as the subway car pulled to its stop, shaking her head and focusing on getting from the train and into the precinct. It may have been her routine, but it always carried some danger for those who were on the smaller side of the mammal spectrum. Of course, once inside the precinct, it seemed that everyone wanted to hear their version of events. To his credit, Nick masterfully maneuvered the conversation, focusing on the mammals they were able to help, and only acknowledging that it was a rough night once he could hear the clacking of the Chief's hooves coming down the hall.

The everyday hooping and hollering subsided as the chief passed out assignments, glancing at his two most unique officers."Hopps, Wilde, Chief Benson is in Conference Room 1. He wants to quickly debrief you two from last night. Once you're done with him, you have community outreach with Redwood Cub Scouts in the Meadowlands. Dismissed!”

Judy peered over at Nick, her eyebrows furrowed and a disappointed frown cresting her face. Talking to Cub Scouts was something she enjoyed, but she knew it still put Nick on edge, given his past.

She also knew a debrief from last night was inevitable, but it was something she still wasn't looking forward to, and she certainly didn't expect to be debriefed in person by Chief Benson himself.

A few minutes later, the pair padded into one of the more spacious conference rooms on the second floor. Standing at the far end of the table, Fire Chief Benson peered through the glass windows overlooking the lobby of precinct one. He turned, giving the pair of officers a soft smile. “You two certainly look less worse for wear than I was expecting. Last night was far from easy.”

“Ya know, I'm not gonna lie, it was not one of the easier evenings I've had. The fact that the house burning down around me took second place for the most traumatic event last night says a lot,” Nick replied, leaning against the back of the chair in front of him. “Are we so special that you needed to debrief us in person?”

Chief Benson sighed, taking a seat at the table. “Truth be told, yeah. Our jobs are tough. We run into situations that other people are actively trying to get out of, and we do it without thinking twice about it. This isn’t a reprimand or criticism, it’s what it means to be a first responder.”

Benson sighed, drumming his fingers on the table as he stared at the two officers for a moment.

“But… that doesn’t mean that mentally or emotionally after the dust has settled it’s easy,“And the situation you both were in last night was far from easy, even for someone who has been on the job for decades, much less the short time you two have. So yeah, you two are special enough for me to check in on ya in person. How are you two holding up?”

Judy avoided eye contact, her breath catching in her throat as she exhaled slowly. It felt like the smoke was still clinging to the back of her throat, scratching and pulling as it tried to dig deeper. She kept seeing the way the red panda's eyes had widened in fear as the HVAC unit had crashed down. Every time she closed her eyes, the orange glow of the fire flashed behind her eyelids, and the feeling of her paws on the metal as she desperately tried to pull it away had kept her from sleep.

There was an ache in her chest, a dull throb that reminded her of the weight of that failing. I could have done more. I should have been faster. The words echoed in her mind, a litany of self-recrimination.

"Honestly..." Her voice shook as she stared down at the table. "Every time I blink, I see that moment, her eyes wide, the metal crushing down, the heat roaring louder than her scream.” She paused as her voice cracked, dabbing at her eyes. “Sorry. Nick and I have seen death before, but usually from a distance. Something like crowd control, accident scenes...but not up close, not like that.

Chief Benson nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he took in the pain evident in Judy's voice. "Sometimes, despite everything, despite training, instinct, and even heart, we still lose someone," Benson said gently. "You risked your life for a stranger. That’s not failure. That’s courage. And it's a weight we all carry. But don’t let it crush you; let it push you forward. You need to honor the life of the mammal you weren't able to save by saving the lives you will be able to save."

He thought back for a moment to the memory of being a rookie himself. He recalled his own journey and the growth he had to make as Chief. Traces of a smile graced his muzzle as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to get closer to eye level.

"That guilt you’re carrying? It’s heavy, but it’s part of the job. Not because we want it, but because we care. If it didn’t eat at you a little… I’d be more worried. That instinct to save everyone, that’s what keeps you sharp. Don’t let it eat you alive. It’ll never be easy. Doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You were there. You gave her something in her last moments. That matters, Judy. More than you know.”

Judy leaned into Nick as he placed a paw on her shoulder and squeezed it. The chief turned slightly to face him and gestured with his paw. “And you, Officer Wilde? How are you holding up?”

Nick gave a small shrug, eyes drifting to a spot on the wall behind Benson. “You see enough rough stuff, you get good at putting it in boxes. Lock it away. Keep walking.”

Benson watched him for a beat. “But this one didn’t stay boxed up, did it?”

Nick didn’t answer right away, giving the smallest nod.

“I’m not gonna give you some long speech,” Benson started, his voice low. “You’ve been doing this long enough. You know when something’s sticking too deep.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“Don’t try to white-knuckle it forever. Talk to someone. Doesn’t have to be a counselor. Doesn’t even have to be today. But if you let this stuff rot in your gut, it eats the rest of you from the inside out. And I’ve seen enough good mammals go that way. Don’t want to see it happen to you.”

Nick was quiet for a moment. “I’ve got a few ideas... might even follow through with one. Thanks, Chief.”

The Chief stood, sighing as he let the somber and heavy mood settle and shift away from them. “Good. Make sure the fox doesn’t hide behind his aviators too much either. Looking cool won't help with the pain,” the bear scoffed.

Nick gave a half-hearted grin. “So you do think I look cool! I’m flattered, Chief, but I don’t think the department allows office romances.”

Judy rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. “Unbelievable.”

Benson laughed as he opened the door. “Don’t think my wife would appreciate it either. Besides, I’m pretty sure your type’s more... energetic.”

He gave Judy a knowing look, then disappeared down the hallway.

Judy stared at the closed door, chewing on her bottom lip. The Chief had articulated her emotions even better than she was able to herself.

She stared at the door as it closed. Her head was tilted, her face scrunched in confusion. “Are vixens known for having a lot of energy?”

Nick's eyes flicked towards her as his breath hitched. “Not, uh, not vixens.”

She blinked. “Then… what did he mean?”

“What species is known for being energetic?”

Judy flicked her ear. “Bunnies. But, wait, do they think we’re…oh.” She tugged on her ear before twisting around, eyes wide. “Are we practically dating?”

Nick did a double-take, eyebrows raised as he stared at Judy. “What- what do you mean ‘are we dating’? What kind of question is that? I mean, isn’t that something that's typically known to the parties involved?”

“I mean, I can see why they would question it, though,” Judy murmured, her voice trailing off as she stared down at her feet. "We live together, work together, we go to the movies and dinner, I can see why someone would think that.”

“Well, sure,” Nick responded, his voice a touch strained, “but you didn’t ask if it looked like we were dating, you asked if we were."

His brows furrowed, finding the ground under his feet to suddenly be very interesting as his ears started to burn. "That is a completely separate question," he finished, his words slightly faster than usual.

“I guess. I haven’t thought about it too much. Dating, I mean. I’ve always been so focused on being a cop that it never seemed to matter, and since I'm not exactly the smartest when it comes to relationships, I don't know if maybe…I missed something.” Judy hesitated, ears folding flat against her head.

Nick’s jaw tightened. “That’s fair. But if we’re gonna talk about ‘us,’ I’d rather do it when I can actually process it. Not two minutes after, we almost cried in front of a bear.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “But we will talk about it.”

Nick shook his head as they walked out of the conference room. ‘I'm sure it won't be awkward at all,’ he thought to himself.

“So remember everyone, if you see something scary or concerning, call 911! as a joke and only when you are serious!” Judy proclaimed, her eyes scanning across the room of the older scouts sitting in the school gym. This was their last group for the day, and it was a mix of preteens and younger teenagers, a group that was always a little harder to keep the attention of.

“Now, any questions you have for us?” She looked expectedly at the group.

“I’m going to get out ahead of a few questions.” Nick leaned lazily back against the desk with his feet crossed, holding up a finger with each question and answer combo he gave. “Yes, we have seen dead bodies, no, we will not be going into details. No, we haven’t fought any villains; they don't exist, although one could make an argument that Bellwether tried. And yes, we have shot our tranq darts, and no, you can't try it."

A young gray fox raised his paw in the back. Nick shook his head and stared at the fox, glaring as he pointed at him. “No, you can’t try the taser either,” he preemptively responded, the younger mammal slowly lowering his paw.

Close to the front, a young deer sat with her hoof raised, patiently waiting to be called on. Judy nodded, pointing at the young mammal, as she gave her a gentle smile. “Yes, the lovely doe right in front.”

“Officer Judy, do…do you ever get scared working with predators? Officer Nick seems nice, but what if he hurts you?”

“Nick, don’t you—” Judy was quickly cut off as he leaned over and gave her a dramatic, fake chomp near the shoulder.

The kids froze. Judy rolled her eyes.

She wiped away a bit of fox drool. “Annoyed? Yes. Scared? Never. Now get off, you big oaf.” She pushed the fox off her. “Gross. Thanks, Nick. Real classy. The thing is, being a cop can be dangerous, and yeah, even scary at times. But it's never because of my partner. My partner has my back, he’s saved me more times than I can count, and I have no fear of him hurting me. Your species does not inherently make you mean or scary, and some of the worst criminals we have dealt with have been prey. Next question?”

Eventually, the bell rang. They thanked the Scoutmaster for their time and headed out, making their way across the school grounds. Judy broke the silence after a moment, glancing over at Nick, his paws deep in his pockets as he walked. “Seems like going to Cub Scout meetings is getting easier?”

Nick closed his eyes, turning his muzzle up at the sky as he let the late afternoon sun warm his fur. “It...I won’t say it's easy, but it is getting easier. There's still prejudice, but it's not as bad as it used to be. And I think we're making a difference.

“You really think that little moment helped?” she asked, slowing her pace to match his.

He kept his eyes focused on the sidewalk, mulling over her question. “Maybe. Or maybe it just planted something.”

Judy was quiet for a beat. “I wonder how many moments like that we’d need before something actually changes.”

They resumed walking, Judy's smile broadening a bit as she mulled over the positive outlook from her partner.

“What kind of plant do you think Bridget is?”

Judy tripped, her eyes wide as she caught herself and stared at her partner. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What kind of plant do you think would fit her? I get an orchid vibe. Maybe a pink rose. Seemingly delicate but with a hidden strength you may not notice at first.”

“I guess I can see that. But why are you asking that?” she asked, her brows furrowed in confusion as she walked.

He walked silently, kicking along a loose pebble. “Benson said that it could be helpful to do something to express the grief. When someone passes…when a fox passes, to be more specific, we have a ceremony. It’s…I think it’s better to show you than try to explain it. It won't do it justice, so I’ll explain when we get there.”

“Get there? Get where? You do know you can be insufferable, don't you?”

“And yet you asked me to be your partner,” he boasted. “Now come on, we're burning daylight.”

“I didn’t fully understand the implications of that when I asked it,” she muttered in response, hoping to catch up with him.

It was a rather short ride into the city, finding themselves sitting in the parked cruiser, staring at the front of a very familiar plant nursery. Judy studied his face with bafflement. She slid her belt off and climbed out of the car, trailing behind Nick as they walked into the shop together. The ringing of the bell above the door seeped through the nursery, a soft smile crossing over Judy's face as Mr. Otterton turned the corner and into view.

“Nick! Judy! It’s so lovely to see you both! How are my two favorite officers?” he purred, stepping up behind the counter.

“I’ll tell ya, Mr. Otterton, it is always a lovely day when we get the opportunity to swing by your beautiful shop and say hello. We are searching for something specific, a pastel-colored orchid. You wouldn’t happen to have something like that, would you?” Nick asked.

Mr. Otterton thought for a moment, tapping his paws on the countertop in front of him. “ I have a few, I think the one that I like the best is a large pastel pink orchid. Is…is this for a remembrance ceremony?”

“It is, although it isn't strictly speaking, a formal ceremony. A small one between Judy and me for someone we lost in the line of duty,” Nick said, his voice low, heavy with the weight of respect. “Pastel pink would be perfect for the mammal, though. We’re going to plant it in the meadowlands, along the river that flows right next to the main street.”

Mr. Otterton nodded, letting the pair know that he would be right back, and stepped away. A moment later, he returned, a large pastel pink orchid in his paws, passing it over to Judy. “Here. On the house. Whoever this is for, I know you did everything in your power to save them, and I couldn't possibly charge you two for such an important ceremony.”

Judy’s nose wiggled, gently taking the flower from Mr. Otterton. “Thank you, although, to be honest, I still don't entirely know much about this…ceremony.”

The otter chuckled, patting her shoulder. “Oh, I see. Well, I have faith that you’ll know all about it very soon. Take care, you two.”

It didn't take the two very long to get from the flower shop down to the Meadowlands. The air was warm, albeit a bit muggy, and the chirping of crickets filled the air. Each chirp echoed in the silence as they walked down a dirt path and over a moss-covered bridge. Judy didn’t have too many opportunities to make it down to the Meadowlands, but every time she did, the deep green color always mesmerized her. She slowed her steps, and Nick’s features turned down in thought as he walked.

They stopped and took a seat as they reached the edge of a gently flowing river, the cold water lapping at the edge of the riverbank as it trickled over rocks and splashed softly at the edges. The silence rested comfortably between them as the midday sun washed over them, and Nick set the orchid down at their feet.

“In fox culture,” he began, “When someone dies, we do a remembrance ceremony. As foxes, society often doesn't place us very highly in terms of worth. Even with a police badge, I still encounter mammals that have outright disgust for me.”

He looked out over the grassy field to his left, the cool breeze contrasting with the afternoon sun. “The remembrance ceremony is something we hold dear as a way to make sure that our final moments are thought of in an elevated way. That even in death, a mammal has worth, and regardless of what mammals or society may think or say, their lives have improved this world for being there.”

He watched as the river in front of them babbled and flowed, crashing over small rocks, various leaves twisting and tumbling around the water in a gentle dance. “Foxes don’t get remembered by society. We are cast aside, viewed as less, and written out of the script. We do this, so they don’t disappear.”

Nick picked up the orchid, handing it to Judy with a low hum. “Typically, we would plant this above the burial site, but obviously that isn’t really possible in this situation.”

Judy took the orchid in her paws, her nose wiggling as she looked up at Nick with teary eyes. “That's beautiful, Nick. Is it always an orchid?”

“No, it's whatever the family decides would represent the deceased the best. Foxes don't study plants the same way bunnies do. It's more about symbolism. I thought of Bridget; she seemed like a beautiful and gentle soul, someone who brightened other people's day, so I went with an orchid. Elegant. Gentle. Resilient.” He took a moment, admiring the plant in Judy’s paws. “Something about it just... felt right,” Nick replies, sitting on his knees as he starts to dig a hole for them to plant the Orchid. “That should be deep enough.”

Judy gently placed the plant into the hole, pushing the cold, damp dirt back around the roots of the orchid, the brisk, fresh air ruffling the ends of her fur as she compacted the dirt around the delicate flower.

Nick closed his eyes and tilted his head up towards the sun, pausing for a moment. "Sorry, I've never actually done this part out loud. I heard it from older foxes when I was a kit at funerals, and out on the street, it was done by Finnick, if at all."

Judy took his paw and squeezed it as he began to speak, tripping over the first few words. “The, uh, the great cycle t-turns, claiming life in its time. What, uh, once was returns to where we came from, yet memories echo, changing where time goes next.”

He took a second, shuffling back and forth between his foot paws. “Though the blossoms and leaves fade, turn, and fall, roots remember the warmth and the light. This moment connects the lives we've lost to those still growing in their memory.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly with the breeze. “And so, let us in memory and hope, bloom and continue, letting the beauty from Bridget enhance our lives.”

Nick patted at the base of the flower, smoothing over a bit of rough dirt as he remembered seeing some of the older foxes do at past ceremonies.

Judy wiped her eyes with her arm, smiling down at the orchid as it fluttered and twirled in the afternoon breeze.“I’m sorry we couldn’t reach you. I wish we had. You didn’t deserve to go like that. You deserved more time. But... thank you. For letting us be there. For making the world a little softer.”

The two sat in silence, enjoying the peace for a bit, Judy leaning against his shoulder as his tail wrapped around her lazily, the smell of damp grass and earthy tones mixed with the sound of rustling leaves practically lulling the pair to sleep.

Nick’s shoulders relaxed as the warmth enveloped them, staring at the blossoming flowers at their feet. “The pink matched her walls. I figured... maybe the last thing she sees in our memory should be something that feels like home.” The light breeze gently rustled through the orchid's petals, the flower swaying in the bright sun rays.

“KKKCCHSHHHH- Zulu-240, I know you two requested to be 10-7 for the rest of the day. However, you’re being specifically requested for a follow-up break-in.” Clawhauser’s voice shattered the silence from the radio on Judy’s belt.

With a sigh, she lifted the walkie. “Go ahead, Clawhauser. Where’s the break-in?”

“It's Jack Savage. Says the break-in might tie into that earlier investigation. Says the place is trashed top to bottom and he won’t talk to anyone else but you two.”

Judy and Nick glanced at each other and, with a sigh, they both stood up. Judy spoke into the walkie, “10-4 Clawhauser, show us as 10-17 to Jack Savage’s place.”

Nick grinned as he whipped out his sunglasses, sliding them onto his muzzle. “Maybe he’ll have more cold brew. What a treat!”