. A sigh escaped him as he paused for a moment, the roll of rumbling thunder stopping him as he made his way along the docks. The wood creaked under his paws as he turned and looked over at the foggy expanse obscuring the city around him. The thin mist around the dock let him see the nearby brickwork buildings and tracks of the monorail that had brought him here, but the more distant parts of Zootopia were only recognizable via the neon lights that outlined them, making them hazy, but seem radiant and alluring at a distance.

. Another sigh escaped him as he turned back to the warehouse in front of him, knowing that, if not in terms of structural integrity than in other ways, even the 'cleanest' parts of Zootopia weren't any better than the docks that surrounded him. Spray paint graffiti decorated the sheet metal walls of the warehouse, while an 'E' that should have been hanging over its bay door lay in several pieces on the ground, having fallen off from neglect; like many things in the area. The damage, he admits, wasn't too bad; the frame was mostly in once piece and the internal lights would need replacing, but it could be salvaged.

. The question, though, was if he should even bother.

. Turning his gaze back onto the bay door in front of him, he walked forward until he reached the padlock keeping it sealed, which he simply gave a quick squeeze before the defective tumbler pulled back and it opened, allowing him to slide it off the hook and open the bay door, raising it above his head with a little effort, where it stayed thanks to the rusted pulleys. From the light coming in through the opening, he could easily make out all the covered piles, sleeping just as he had left them; heavily wrinkled and covered in a fine layer of moldy dust. He wasn't worried about anyone trying to sneak into the place; too few mammals lived in the area and there were nicer squats than a cold sheet metal warehouse with rusted shut doors and more holes than they had fur. The defective padlock was more security than most of the places around here had too.

. "Nick!" he heard his name called from behind from a voice that he knew better than his own these last few weeks. Despite that, he didn't turn to look at or greet her, instead keeping his eyes ahead on the covered piles. A moment later, he heard her slow down, her rush to his side stopping a few steps short as she walked around the fallen 'E', somberness replacing her tones of relieved concern. "I thought I would find you here," Judy said softly as she stepped up to his side. Without waiting for a response, she leaned into his side and wrapped her arms around his middle, partly, he knew, to comfort herself by thinking if she held on, if he disappeared again, she'd at least disappear with him.

. Another part, he also knew, because she knew being here, at the site of these abandoned dreams, would not bring him any sense of peace; these hallowed grounds did anything but.

. It was a long minute before he broke the silence, finally raising his arm on her side to begin stroking her ears; his tail had already instinctively wrapped itself around her, a ward against the dock's cold. "I'm considering quitting the force," he admitted darkly, his low and quiet tones making his grim words seem somehow sinister, alongside their straightforward honesty.

. Beside him, Judy's eyes went wide, shocked to hear him say those words aloud to her; even though she wasn't surprised to hear his sentiment, which caused her to lower her ears and nuzzle into him. The failure of the appeals trying to remove the clearly anti-predator policies Bellweather had reinstated and/or created after replace Lionheart. The resolve of her political supporters calling for those policies to be enforced instead of flatly overlooked by the ZPD and its branches. That alone was disheartening to her, as it threatened the jobs of many officers who didn't share their bigoted perspective or had been 'unfortunate' enough to be born the 'wrong' species. What she knew was really hitting him hardest, though, was the collar he was forced to wear around his neck, which they had been told just that morning all predators would now have to continue wearing while they were in uniform instead of getting them taken off at the station when they clocked in. She remembers how loud she had spoken up in protest after Bogo called the bullpen to silence, able to see in his eyes that he was very much against this change in a policy he already despised, but that did nothing to quell her fury at this now being forced upon her partner.

. Nick, though, hadn't said a word, not did he the rest of the day, simply staring out the window of their patrol car in shadowed thought, causing her to give up her attempts to draw a reaction or anything out of him.

. A part of Judy wanted to cry, never having seen the fox she loved like he had been for these past few weeks; quiet, reserved, and withdrawn. He hadn't even been this dour and down when the collar policies were reinstated and she had first tracked him down to here, to Wilde Times, the dream his father and then Nick himself had wanted to bring to life to Zootopia, their way of making the world a better place. Glancing inside, it looks just like it did those months ago.

. Empty. Lifeless. Abandoned.

. Focusing back on him, putting on an optimistic tone, she offers, "You could take another shot at Wilde Times. It wouldn't be hard to renew its licenses. I know Finnick and the others would back you up." Squeezing him gently, she adds, "You know I'll always be behind you."

. Her words brought a weak yet genuine smile to his muzzle; the kind which she hadn't seen in a long while. "I know, Judy. Thank you," he said, pulling her a little closer as he glanced down at her, a faint light sparkling in his green eyes that gave her hope.

. That light faded as he turned back to the covered piles, in an absent whisper arguing, "But I don't think there'd be any point."

. Judy nuzzled into his side as she held him tighter, his defeated tones letting loose the tears she was trying so hard to keep from breaking free.

. Thinking, Judy suggests, "Let...let's head to the Burrow for a little while. We...we've been putting in a lot of overtime. We could use a break. Get away from the city for a week."

. That brought another little smile to his face after a moment of contemplation; and this time, it didn't fade away. "...Yeah. Yeah, Fluff. That sounds like a good idea."

. Smiling, she wiped her tears off on his shirt, disguised as another nuzzle, before stepping back so he could close the warehouse's bay door, but never breaking their physical contact connection, knowing how much he needed it. Once outside the city, she'd be able to take that damned collar off him. Once they got away from Zootopia and all the prejudice and bigotry they'd had to deal with, even if they still had to deal with the lesser more-just-annoying bigotry of some of her siblings and relations, she'd be able to get her Nick Wilde back. She didn't hold his suffering against him; she knew how hard it was to wear that collar; the dark, dark memories they involved. But damn it all, she smug, smarmy, bad-joke-telling, wonderful-bad-flirt, lovingly amazing fox back.

. They both loved Zootopia. They had given a lot to this city and its mammals. They wanted to fulfill their dreams. They wanted to make the world a better place.

. ...But it was starting to reach a point where Judy knew things had to get better, or else she would be more than willing to give up on her lifelong dream just to see her fox smile earnestly again.