~Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for the wait on this next chapter. Life is a busy thing. Hopefully, I can find more time in my schedule to continue writing this, and I appreciate all the support I have received thus far. Thank you all!~

The early morning sun peaked into the Police station, illumining it in a vibrantly beautiful orange glow. In that familiar sunrise fashion, the moment the warm light grazed Judy's whiskers, her eyes dazedly slipped open. A majority of those working that day had already arrived, and were a bit too timid to wake their napping superior. At the time, she had appeared completely dead to the world, and the Officers silently agreed in passing to, 'let the sleeping rabbit lie.'

Perhaps it was just early morning irritability, but Judy found herself quite frustrated with this. She attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes; her keen vision searching for a target to vent at. Clawhauser happened to be the closest nearby, positioned stoutly at the front desk.

The rabbit sat up, prepared to deliver a gallant tongue lashing about not waking her up for roll call, and that no Officer should ever assume their daily tasks. However, she trapped her breath just before speaking, and glanced around the room, noticing a distinct lack of the child who she had placed on the bench just before midnight.

Thoughts flew through her head about Finnick getting into trouble around the station. Perhaps swallowing whatever was in the evidence bags, or throwing neatly organized files on the floor down in records. Further still, what if he had simply left without anyone noticing? Finding a kidnapper wasn't on her preferred list of things to do today.

"…C-Clawhauser," She finally spoke, staring at him with a curious mix of lethargy and oddity on her face, "Where's Finnick? Y'know, that child from the accident yesterday? I set him on that bench last night, w-where is he?"

Clawhauser perked up lightly, turning to face her, "Well, good morning to you too, Chief! Uh, yeah, about him, I'm pretty sure Child Services picked him up not too long ago. Guess some nosy neighbor was keeping an eye on how that fox was treating the kid, right?"

Judy's expression almost instantly fell. Her morning bitterness had turned to curiosity, and then to a genuine sense of heartbreak. It wasn't, in the slightest, comfortable to be both tired and miserable.

"Oh…" One of her ears crooked as she stared forward blankly. She really didn't know whether to sob, or laugh at her misfortune. What she did know is that her stomach had dropped like a piece of fine china, and shattered her thoughts of the past few days so far apart that there was no hope real hope of piecing them together the same way again. Once thing was for certain, though, she had to see Nick.

As much as that thought plagued her, it was vital. She had so much work today, and yet, this still seemed to take priority over everything else.

At some point, Judy Hopps would need to walk into that hospital, and confront possibly the most difficult situation of her present carrier. Her heart fluttered at even the thought of mentioning Child Services to Nick. As much as she needed to see him, there was a more pressing matter: Getting that child back into Nick's care.

"Thanks for letting me know," Judy reluctantly answered the Cheetah, slogging her way off the office chair, "Here, I'll give this back to you. Do you know where the department's telephones are?"

Clawhauser took the weight off his feet, ecstatic to be deskbound again, "Well, it depends which one. There's one in your office, ma'am, remember?"

"…Right." Judy smiled dejectedly, heading towards her workplace, "Still haven't quite woken up yet."

The Chief's office was small, but quaint. A majority of it was filled with filing cabinets, containing many records from previous crimes their department had solved. Directly in the middle of the room though, was a small desk that was perfectly sized for a rabbit of her stature, and on top of it, a phone.

After dialing a familiar number, she held the phone to her ear, waiting for a response. Several rings passed before a perky voice on the other side of the handset chirped up.

"Hello, this is the administrative office of child services, what is your inquiry?"

"Um, Hi," Judy responded, resting her head on her left hand, "This is Judy Hopps, Police Chief of Zootopia. I'm here to discuss a certain child who was removed from my station earlier this morning. I, Um… Wasn't available at the time… Otherwise I would've asked on what grounds he is being removed."

"Oh, Officer Judy it's you!" The voice squeaked again, "One moment please, I'll pull up some information. Hold tight."

Judy drummed her fingers against the desk, awaiting a response. When one finally did come, it wasn't exactly the news she wanted to hear, "Well, Officer Hopps, it actually says on our archives that… You filed the report? Why do you need information on it then?"

"I made a mistake," Was the rabbit's hasty, almost angry reply, "It was an accident, I never meant to file that. Can you please speak to some higher uppers about this? I don't want Finnick taken away from his father."

"Well Judy, Whether you meant to file that report or not, you included some pretty good evidence. I mean, there are written accounts, pictures, and codes for the traffic cameras that picked up some of what you saw. I'll try, but I seriously doubt that I could get anyone to revoke this."

The individual on the other end of the receiver was right; there was a hefty sum of information stacking against any kind of repeal. Judy let her head fall to the desk below her for a moment, before mustering up the urge to raise it again, "You're right… Let's flip the script for a moment. What would it take for the caretaker of said child to get him back?"

The handset went dead briefly, as if the voice coming out of it was searching through computer documents, "Well, let's see… Oh… Officer Hopps, something like this wouldn't be easy."

"Just read what it says on the screen." Judy muttered, knowing full well the employee didn't have facts like this memorized.

"Okay, well, it's quite the mouthful." The voice piped up, "It says, 'In the event that an individual or party files a report with insurmountable evidence against another individual or party pertaining to a removal forum, the conditions decided upon by the severity of the offense cannot be revoked or repealed under any circumstances…"

Judy's heart sank for the second time that morning. However, a small ray of hope shone in her eyes as the voice finished reading the next paragraph.

"…Unless the report in question was filed by an officer of the law or other government authority. In this case, the officer may provide evidence against the claim they filed, and on the condition that the evidence is substantial over a well period of time, then and only then can a properly evinced removal forum be annulled."

"That is a mouthful," Agreed the rabbit with a whim of excitement, "Can you translate that into English please?"

The voice returned her question with just a hint of mockery, "Simply put, if you want to get that kid back into his parent or guardian's care, you're going to need some counter data; like, for example, giving some written accounts and video evidence of the guy being a good dad. Doing what the opposite of what you did, basically."

Judy's thoughts began to straighten. There was hope after all, an exceptionally good amount of it, at that, "Alright, thank you so much! I can work with this material. Goodbye!"

Before the voice could respond, Judy had slammed the phone back into its desk mount, and skittered out of the room. Now, she felt quite excited to talk to Nick. However, as she paced out the sliding doors at the front of the station, the spring in her step began to systematically fade as she began to remember the reason for going to talk to him in the first place.

It was excellent that there was a way of mending the blunder she had made, but on the other hand, she had still made the blunder. The hospitalized fox didn't even know yet that his son had been taken away, and here she was contemplating the easy part.

"…How am I going to break this to him? He's broken enough already, this is just adding onto the pile." She mumbled to herself, who at most times was the best listener. A large part of her wondered if he would even bother listening to her afterwards.

Zootopia's large hospital was within walking distance of the station. In reluctance, Judy had attempted to keep a slightly slower pace throughout the cities' messy networks. Her sorry anticipation of giving bad news sped her up though and it felt to her, the moment she arrived, as if she had just begun to walk.

A brief conversation with the nurse at the front desk allowed her in, despite the fact that visiting hours hadn't started yet. A few flights of stairs later and Hopps arrived in front of room C-12; the room harboring both a critically pained fox, and if her conversation with Nick didn't go as planned, an emotional battleground.

Every ounce of her mental willpower went into opening the door. She felt utterly exhausted as it creeped open, and yet, much more difficult tasks still needed to be done. A waft of cold air, coming through the entryway, collided with Judy's face, which warranted a shiver from the small-feeling rabbit. For a minute she questioned whether it was Nick's room, or just the overwhelming feeling of littleness snaring around her neck.

If there was anything she had been taught through police training, though, it was to keeping pushing herself. Unfortunately, police training didn't really cover emotional conflicts, and as a result Judy found herself marching into semi-new territory.

She let the door bump against its stopper, alerting the half-asleep fox that someone was entering. Nick really wasn't in the mood to converse with anyone. Not even the nurses at the hospital had heard more than an occasional groan from his mouth. He managed to keep his composure well, despite every part of him stinging; from his nearly shattered shoulder, to the bruises encompassing the right side of his figure.

One thing hurt more than all of his other grievances, though, and that was his pride. Like most, Nick didn't rush to make himself look like fool. That is, he didn't unless it paid well. He hadn't meant to get run over in the most obvious sense. As a result of his overactive cognizance, it been a legitimate mistake; a mistake that was being gossiped about on the news right in front of his half lidded eyes.

The TV hummed quietly as Judy entered the room, well prepared for a dangerous look. It didn't come, though. Nick simply stared forward at the television set, taking the arrival of the officer as a time to wallow in his own pity.

For a moment, there was silence. Judy began to question if Wilde had heard her come in. After several more long seconds, she mustered up the urge to speak, "…Mr. Wilde? It's Judy from the crash yesterday, I'm here to-"

Nick stopped her with a hand, before speaking shakily, "I know who you are, I just don't know what you want."

"Well, if you'll let me finish," the rabbit let her hands fall on the bedpost, "I just… First of all, I want to apologize for what happened yesterday."

She took a deep breath, and continued in hopes of easing the dreary mood, "I'm sure, 'getting run over,' wasn't in your plans yesterday, huh?"

Nick let a small smile crook the side of his mouth. He wasn't exactly amused, but as a result of his upbringing he felt the need to respond, "No it wasn't, carrots. Not one bit."

After another moment of stillness, Nick sat up, his eyes widening in remembrance, "What about Finnick? Is he okay? I'm assuming you guys are keeping him for me until I get the heck out of here."

"Um, yes… He's fine…" Judy answered reluctantly, "T-That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you a-about, Nick."

"…Go on." Nick watched her very closely, suddenly becoming alert.

"Mr. Wilde, I said he was fine, and he is. But, there's… U-Um..." Judy was right. This was going to be just as immensely difficult as she thought.

"I made a… tiny mistake Mr. Wilde, and for… For the time being, you won't be able take care of your son."

The metaphorical bomb had finally dropped, along with Nick's inquisitive visage. He let himself sink back into the bed, before glancing down at the comforter in the coldest of manners.

"What do you mean?" The fox replied, almost sternly.

"I-I… I'm…" It felt as if a steel trap had closed around Judy's throat. She swallowed heavily, before attempting to continue.

"I-I'm having trouble speaking, Mr. Wilde…One m-moment."

Nick remained stalk still, staring her down with a hint of dark anticipation, "Well, speak then, rabbit."

A sigh issued from the Officer's mouth, "Okay. I messed up big time, Nick. I did, and I'm sorry."

"You're still… Not answering my question, carrots. Why in the name of all that's holy can I not take care of Finnick? And what-"

He paused, hackles rising in a genuinely subordinate manner, "…What do you have to do with this?"

"Look, I-"Judy stopped herself from becoming angry at his condescending voice, "…That day when I was following you around? I-I wasn't watching you… I was watching how you were treating Finnick. I know I m-may have been concealing that information, but I thought If I said anything you would have been m-more… Careful than usual?"

That sounded filthy out loud. The room took on an unusual silence as Nick began to contemplate what was given to him.

"So, let me get this straight: You raced your little bunny legs around the city for a whole day just to take the one person I actually care about away from me?"

"Hey, let me explain, slick Nick! Don't forget I saved your life by calling that ambulance. Not to mention using my uniform to cut off the blood flow." Judy narrowed her eyes, clearly prepared to defend herself.

Wilde stared for a moment, speechless. The corners of his muzzle began to rise in direct protest, revealing several gritted teeth.

"Get out of my room."

"Y-You…" Judy sighed quickly. She was exasperated by the fox's toxicity. "You haven't let me finish. You see-"

"Get out, Hopps!" He did his best to shout with his croaky voice.

"Nick, please, I need to explain!" She placed a hand on her face, quieting down signifigantly, "It really was an accident. You don't think I feel as horrible as you do about this?"

"As a matter of fact, I don't! I can take a hint, carrots; you filed a report against me, didn't you?" He placed a finger in the air, letting it remain in attendance as a symbol of protest, "If you felt bad about it, you wouldn't have done it in the first place!"

Judy glanced away, pursing her lips together in an attempt to choke back all dismal emotion. The years of Police service had hardened her heart, but for some reason in this stance, all of it was gone. She rarely fought those who disobeyed orders at the station. As much as it hurt to yell at an Officer for breaking the rules, it hurt even more to be yelled at.

What was worse, though, was the reason for yelling. Nick was angry, sure, but anyone in the room could easily feel the repressed sadness behind his loud exterior.

He continued, not letting her guilty expression get the wiser of his heavy dialect, "I know you. You did this just to get back at me, right? 'Hey, that mean sly fox hurt my wittle feewings... Oh, I know! I'll get him hit by a car, and then rub salt in his wounds by taking his child away! That seems suitable."

At this point, Nick had lost all control of himself. There was no more, 'Never let them see that they get to you.' He had full intentions of harming Judy's feelings, and that was exactly what he did.

Another hard swallow accompanied Judy's now watery eyes. She turned to face Nick again, widening her posture in an attempt to stand up to his demeaning behavior, "Listen to me, Nick! I didn't get you hit by that car, you just weren't paying attention! Just like earlier, when you almost let Finnick roll into city traffic!"

Her rant continued, "Look, I'm s-so sorry that I sent in that report, I really am! But you have to understand: I came here to assist you in getting him back! It was my mistake completely, but in order for me to help you at all you're going to need to get over yourself!"

The last few words had bellowed against Nick's wall of pride the hardest. He had fully recoiled from the yelling, and the previous demeaning nature emitting from him melted away entirely. A tongue lashing of that nature hadn't graced Nick's ears since he was very young, and to cope with the harsh tonality he grabbed the edges of his bedspread, tugging it over his knees.

His ears were lightly flattened, expecting to hear more harsh words coming from the officer's mouth. No words came, though; she just stared at him with a painfully sorrowful expression. For a rough looking officer boasting a heart of stone, Judy looked legitimately sad.

The room grew quiet fleetingly. Both residents of it needed a bit of time to recuperate from the verbal war that had taken place. After a moment, the tension had grown past comfortable levels for Nick, and he spoke up, a bit shakily.

"W-Why would you want to help me?"

"Because, I saw you save him." Judy responded. Her unhappiness rose up to a look of compassion, "You might've been able to get around that truck, but instead… You realized you'd rather ensure his life than risk the both of yours. That's when it hit me: You... Really do care about Finnick. You just don't know how to care for him."

"I-I know how to take care of a child, Carrots." Nick didn't speak, his immodesty did.

The Chief shook her head, then cocked it to the side, giving him another empathetic look, "Nick, I'm not stupid… There are certain things you can tell about a person by watching them. I really hate to say it in case I'm actually correct, but I'm sure you've have had some family problems when you were young, right…?"

Nick exhaled a few times, struggling to let his confidence return, "If you're expecting me to give you my life's story, that's not going to happen."

"Nick, you don't have to say a word. I just want you to think about it."

The fox inspected the wall for a moment. For one reason or another, he felt prompted to say something, despite only knowing the Chief for a short while, "I may or may not have had a few family… Issues. Why does this even matter, Hopps, and how did you know about that stuff anyway?"

"It's my job. You and I are a lot alike, Nick. We can read people like a book," Judy plastered an inapt smile on her face, trying to brighten the dim air around them, "Whatever happened, I'm sorry. I'll elaborate, though. People who have experienced stuff like that tend to not really know how to guide a child properly. I'm not saying you're uneducated, you're just used to something completely different."

Nick took his time answering, "…A fair point. I know you're trained at reading people, but since we both have a mutual hate for each other, how about we not talk about our family lives? If there's something you think you need to say, and it involves me at all, keep it to yourself alright?"

"I'm just trying to help you understand." Judy stepped a bit closer, "I messed up big time, Nick. Alright? I-I honestly did everything I could to get the files I sent back, but n-no dice. As I mentioned though, I'm more than willing to fix my mistake, and there is a way we can work together to get Finnick back to you."

Nick leaned against the hospital pillow, groaning a bit. Even though he was listening to the rabbit chat, he really didn't want to. In fact, he would be perfectly happy never seeing her again, provided Finnick wasn't gone.

"Carrots, we may momentarily be on good terms, but you know the last thing I want to do is work with you on something."

"I know, Nick, you've mentioned that already," Judy agreed, "and after this we'll probably never see each other again. I really want to repair what I've broken though, and I need your cooperation for it. Would you at least do it for Finnick?"

The fox thought for a moment, then leaned forward on the bed, placing his muzzle less than a foot away from her. With the utmost sincerity, he gazed into her eyes, speaking clearly.

"Judy, as much as I dislike you, I would chain myself to your arm and follow you around all day if it meant getting Finnick back into my arms. Just tell me what I need to do."

Hopps grinned at his authenticity, wiping the last bit of water from her eyes that had articulated during their argument, "Thank you, Nick."

Wilde reset his position on the bed, choosing this time to examine the patterns on the ceiling. He usually did things of this nature to keep conversations from getting too profound, "Heh, just be careful. I may or may not listen. I guess I should be… Thanking you for trying to help. What are we supposed to do about this anyway?"

"Well, you're pretty ornery; it's not going to be easy." Judy followed suit with Nick's plan, attempting to lighten the mood with a bit of banter.

"Some people call that a free spirit," He smiled a bit, letting his good arm flop idly by the bedside, "Seriously, though."

She shrugged, "The way Child Services explained it to me is that I have to file a sort of counter claim. Like, get a bunch of reports showing that you can be a good parent, and that the other data was just a fluke."

"…Anything that doesn't require effort?" Nick stated only half-jokingly, fluffing his pillow.

"I'm afraid not. You're going to have to get out of your comfort zone on this one."

"Can't we just…" He turned, eyeing her, "You know, since you said you shouldn't have filed all of those accounts anyway. How about we… Make some stuff up and send them that, huh?"

Judy glowered in a challenging manner, "Nick, you're telling me, the Chief of Police, to lie on a government forum. Not going to happen. Which reminds me, if you want me to help you, no more conman stuff, got it?"

"Now that I think about it, that wasn't a bright idea," Nick mortared on an uncomfortable smile, "Yeah, sure carrots. No more conning."

He had full intentions of continuing with his one and only profession, but for the Officer, he would stop those actions until this all blew over. Judy could easily see a lie on someone's face at most times, though. She was aware he would change at the drop of a hat. Perhaps, though, there was a way of breaking his rough exterior and figuring out why that was the case.

It was simply a matter of time.

"Alright, I should probably go and get to work, Nick. You need to get some rest. I'll make the preparations for our deal, and once you're out of here, swing by the station. We'll get started then."

Nick eased into the bed, fitting into a fox shaped imprint he had left on the memory foam the night prior, "I gotcha, carrots. I'm not too banged up anyway. Give me a week or so, and I'll be out."

"Nick," Hopps chuckled, "you got hit by a truck. It might be a bit longer than a week."

"Nah, I'm not that damaged. Nothing a complete blood transplant and a new skeleton won't fix." Exaggeration was Wilde's favorite form of comedy.

"Oh, Sure," Judy rolled her eyes, walking towards the door. She paused before reaching it, and turned, "Nick?"

"…Yes, carrots?"

"I appreciate your good attitude about all of this."

Nick raised an eyebrow, flashing his patented smile, "Don't worry, I'll probably make a big fuss at some point; Just not quite yet."

He sighed and spoke again, getting a bit more serious, "Thank you, once again… For helping me out. It means a lot to me that you aren't ditching me in the dirt."

"It's what we do at the ZPD." Judy gave one more leer before leaving the room, exiting the hospital, and heading back towards the station.

And from there, the Officer spent her day ordering those who needed to be ordered, and generally speaking, having a much more exciting afternoon than Wilde's.

On the flip side, Nick was left solo with a lot of unanswered questions floating around in his mind. Was any of this worth it? Perhaps Judy was just trying to get some kind of information out of him, and was lying to do so? Most importantly, though. One particular query circled the ring of his conscious again and again. A question so integral to his persona that it gripped him, and wouldn't bother letting go.

With both his profession, and attitude towards life, would getting Finnick back be the right thing in the first place? Or would it cause the child to end up just like his father: Fundamentally and undeniably flawed.