Music that inspired this chapter:

"one take: wooden home" by nothing,nowhere.

As lanky as he was, Nick Wilde was barely able to squeeze into the tiny shower inside the Hopps' residence. If you asked him just a few months prior if he ever thought he'd be able to fit into a shower designed for bunnies he would've given you an amused, "No", and yet here he was. Though there was an allowance of merely centimeters if he placed his bushy tail ramrod straight against his thighs, he simply decided swishing and swaying in and out of the perimeter and against the shower curtain was definitively more comfortable. That among other things were quick adaptations for the red fox, adding that he found compressing his shoulders together gave himself some slight leeway. He chuckled at his predicament; more so at the thought of a fox being stuffed into a tuna can. It was the first time Nick had laughed heartily in awhile.

"Sweetheart, if you need help just call out to me, okay?" Nick barely heard the comforting voice through the shallow bathroom door. "I'm going to go get your bed ready."

"Okay, Mrs. Bonnie." Nick answered back hesitantly since he could hardly make out what she had said over the sloshing of the calcified shower head. The tod had trouble turning on the shower at first. The tub at his home had been significantly more aged than this one, yet he still discovered the slightly more modern controls were far from his understanding. Still after many twists and pulls - and also swearing that he had broken it at one point - he found that the simple machine was more than manageable.

The water filled the fox with a certain pleasantness as warmth spread over his greasy body. At least… for the most part. His face felt utterly raw under the stream of water even though the pressure was very zephyr-like. A twitching bruised eye, sore upper body and a diminished throbbing in his head had lowered his overall relaxing experience. That and the reoccuring moments where shampoo had gotten into his eyes and mouth. The clean water spouting out from the shower head morphed into various shades of brown as it ran down the fox's legs and into the awaiting drain.

He fumbled with the shampoo and conditioner bottles as he tried his hardest to open them, eventually finding the right grip to pop the caps open. Even with the substances in his hands, he found that massaging it into his fur was overwhelmingly taxing to his fingers and palms. He continually stumbled around - not yet accustomed to his fuzzy coordination - yet luckily he didn't necessitate the aid of Bonnie throughout this duration.

If I can't be alone for ten minutes then I don't think I'll make it through the next couple of days. He had told himself after each near stumble, using his poor coordination to propel his will power. Funnily enough, the fox began to rethink this mentality after he nearly tumbled out of the porcelain tub. But... maybe not the smartest idea to push myself too hard…

After some minutes had passed, the now redder fox stepped out of the tub looking even more exhausted than he had when he entered. He wiggled his wet toes on the rough rug beneath him, feeling his fur prick and bend at the fluffy carpet. Now clean, Nick delicately grabbed a hanging towel and began to dry himself off - with his increasingly weakening arms - to the best of his ability (which wasn't as effective as you would think).

The tod lazily threw the towel around the shower rod when he was satisfied with his current state of dryness and unintentionally gave a passing glance at his steamy reflection. His eyes were struck with a certain sadness. He had been decimated. His eye bulged from his eye socket, swollen beyond recognition. A once slim bottom lip had busted and ballooned as his tissues filled with blood. Long fur lay over his eyes, covering half of his face. His once healed mug was seemingly deformed to the point that Nick had a hard time identifying himself.

Slack jawed, the fox had raised his brown hand - feeling the unfamiliar soreness and strain on his tendons as he did it - and placed it flat against the mirror, seemingly studying the appendage. He slowly swiped at the steamy mirror, trying to improve the murky visibility of the reflection staring back at him. He hoped that it was his tired eyes making this illusion in front of him. He was reluctant to find out he was wrong.

The fox was absolutely thrashed. There was no doubting it.

Yet Nick was too immersed and fascinated to look away. Even with all the heists and all the scraps he had been involved in he had never thought that he'd see himself this way. His once stoic reflection had began to begrudgingly slide down his face. The straightness of his lip had faltered, and very slowly began to turn into a frown. The tod gulped, Is this is who I'm meant to look like? He didn't even want to think just how horribly his blood-stained face looked just a mere couple of minutes previously. A pitiful face for a pitiful fox. Just an undersized punching bag.

A huff escaped the child, as his now expired gaze began to lower to the sink in shame. He knew that he deserved this. Hell, he probably deserved way more. He deserved to lose everything, deserved the hate, maybe even deserved time in front of a judge. But he was given a second chance.

He didn't understand it. He couldn't. If his experience had taught him anything, it was to always look out for yourself. Never let them see that they get to you… Nick knew that he could never afford the luxury of empathy for these families that lived so comfortably (at least in comparison to his own upbringing), yet the Hopps' had already changed him in a way. He was frequently second guessing every thought he had - much unlike he had just a few weeks earlier - after a singular confrontation. It was all because of that Judy Hopps.

He felt the thoughts in his head halt. His scrutiny soothed as he returned to the stranger in the mirror.

They had already changed him.

What would mom think of me? She wouldn't have let me get this far.

His body froze under that realization. Nick bit his lip, knowing that he was overwhelmingly compromised. He could never be the same person he had been before. He was tainted. Nick's chewed up lip began to quiver, his breathing hitched and was quickly followed up by a whimper.

I don't know what I'm doing. I-I can't do this anymore. I can't do this anymore.

The fox panicked for the first time in a long time. His rate or respirations skyrocketed along with his hammering pulse. Almost as if it were a reflex, he searched back for his fundamentals; his golden rule quickly shot into his head once more.

Never let them see that they get to you.

Labored breaths softened. Tense shoulders drooped. Squinted eyes became half-lidded. Of course they would, as this was a well practiced routine to the fox. One that he could robotically initiate while simultaneously paying attention to the finite and minute details in his facial expressions. He had rehearsed this the same way before, locked in the smelly bathroom of his orphanage after his mother had passed away.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. In through his moistened nose and out through his mouth. "Never let them see that they get to you." Nick affirmed himself, his chest now sticking out proudly. The fox nodded along, giving himself some time and confidence to believe in his words. He could be salvaged, remodeled. His clenched fist eased opened as Nick forced himself to relax.

A familiar grin was slapped onto his mug. A smirk that he had worn several times before, yet he still couldn't quite identify just who he was looking at. Not just physically, but by his mentality as well. Nick's whole demeanor was changed. Even while practicing in the mirror he couldn't find the same smug fox he used to be. His once charismatic grin had become so shallow all in the span of a couple days.

He couldn't hide his feelings anymore. He wore his emotions like a lousy poker face. That lousy grin began to trickle off his face, leaving him the most honest he had been in a long night. He was unhappy (with a lot of things) and his now evolving frown had been the perfect accent to his defeated complexion.

Nicholas Piberius Wilde had many lows in his life, but this was the worst he had felt in such a long time. He felt incredibly vulnerable. Naked.

I am naked.

Emerald eyes glanced at the black underwear sitting on the countertop. They were new, definitely. Maybe a show of courtesy from the father, as he easily could have gave him an old used pair.

"Are you doing okay in there?" Nick heard from outside of the bathroom.

"Yeah… Yeah I'm okay." The fox answered, trying to find the effort to believe the lies he was telling. "Just trying to recognize myself, I guess." His voice steadily dropped in a few octaves as he lost his enthusiasm.

"Not a pretty sight, huh?" Bonnie teased halfheartedly.

"Well It's not exactly a look that I like." Nick replied, leaning back a little from the sink. Drinking in one last look at himself Nick then glanced at the remainder of the steamy room. His eyes actively tried avoiding the black boxer briefs sitting on the counter before finally succumbing. An exasperated sigh slurred out of the fox as he regretfully grabbed the clothing. He hobbled and stumbled all over the bathroom floor; trying to keep his balance and hop around on one leg was increasingly more difficult due to his sore body.

"Are you okay? Do you need help?" Bonnie had asked, her long ears now pressed up against the wooden door awaiting an answer.

"No! No no, I'm okay. Just give me a second." Nick replied quickly, fearing that the mother would embarrassingly burst into the small room. After fumbling with the garment a little while longer, Nick had finally concealed his modesty. The blood began rushing to his head due to his sporadic hopping, making the pain there thud harder. His unconsciously clenched fist unfolded before slowly reaching for the worn doorknob.

The mother was surprised to say the least. The once dirty thief was now standing in front of her in his underwear, now clean (and shaggy). He could no longer hide his lanky frame underneath his baggy black clothes, leaving him completely exposed. His small hands held out his musky clothes - which were a stark contrast to his current smell - to which Bonnie felt her own frail paws reach out and grip. She halted when she looked at the tods ruined face. His eyes were a tad bit different now. Viridescent youthful irises were now softer, less glasslike.

"What?" Nick asked her courteously, still holding out his contaminated clothes towards her.

"Nothing. You just… You look tired, son." She answered him, officially taking the rags from him.

"I am." He answered with an adorable half grin. The fox hobbled out of the bathroom with one hand braced against the hallway walls to keep himself up and the other wrapped around his waist desperately trying to keep the oversized underwear from sliding off of his scrawny frame.

Despite feeling like a plastic fork that was rattled inside a garbage disposal he had to admit that he definitely felt better in some aspects. His fur was undeniably softer and brighter (albeit still a bit damp). He felt a little lighter as well, as if he could float away towards the popcorned ceiling like a helium balloon. Besides, he probably smelled better too.

"So, what's your typical bedtime?" The mother had asked him, trying to start up a conversation.

"I don't really have one." Nick answered back, glancing at the aiding bunny. He thought back to his orphanage and how Honey had given his peers a curfew, trying her hardest to adjust their sleeping schedule like a responsible guardian even though she could hardly manage her own. Nick chuckled at the thought of his wonderful caretaker and how diligent she was with him. Especially when he first arrived at the orphanage. He prepared his (honest, yet not truthful) lie, "But my parents typically want me asleep at 9 PM."

Bonnie pulled back the sleeves of her thin sweater and glanced at her dollar store watch. The plastic accessory read: 1:12 AM

"We're a long way away from 9 PM." She chuckled with the fox. "So tell me, how well do you stick to that sleeping pattern?" The bunny motherly catechized.

"Well I don't really." The fox paused his words as they entered the ambient living room once more. He felt himself tense. His eyes narrowed in a remembrance before he slowly sputtered out, "After I'd finish stealing things I'd just go to sleep when I would get home."

"What time would that normally be?" The mother quickly asked, trying to pry the obviously focused child back into their conversation.

"I don't really remember." Nick answered unenthusiastically yet still with sincerity. "There were some nights I wouldn't sleep much at all." The fox concluded, his eye line getting lower and lower with each passing word. "Because I'd just feel so… conflicted, you know?"

Bonnie noticed his distaste in the discussion and eased him towards the couch. "Right over here." She guided, helping the aching fox to the makeshift bed. The mother had thrown some cotton sheets over the sofa cushions, along with some pillows and a comforter.

The fox's legs were incredibly sore as he hobbled along, making every movement of his tense and tight. Bonnie had wrapped her hand around his bare back, helping support his upper body as he reached the improvised bed. Nick planted his free hand on the cushions as his support and began to warily lower himself onto the sectional, feeling his whole body tremble with certain weakness. Much to Nick's dismay, he still needed Bonnie's help to situate himself on the aged furniture.

"Gosh, you move slower than my grandpa." Bonnie joked with him, getting an earnest chuckle from the fox as he focused on sitting down. Now seated, Nick pivoted on his butt and lifted his legs up on the cushions with an earnest heave.

"Hold on." Bonnie delicately slid a pillow behind his head and shoulder blades as if he were made of glass. "Here."

Nick let the weight of his body fall on the pillow as he went positively limp. The now comforted fox simply lay there mouth breathing as he forcefully shut his tired furrowed eyes. There was no way that he could've prepared himself for this outcome. This was more than he deserved. Too charitable for the things he had done. For the cards that he had been dealt.

His frail fingers began to gently caress the fabric of the soothing chilled sheets. The fine textures comforted him in a strange way, easing his ever growing headache.

"Here." Bonnie said again. Now too tired to open his eyes, Nick felt a pillow tenderly descend on top of his chest followed by a thick comforter that encapsulated his whole body in a radiant warmth.

"Thank you Mrs. Bonnie." Nicks young pubescent voice sputtered out as he robotically snuggled into the comforting objects. His now clean fur flexed and folded against his cheek as he rubbed his face into the soft pillow.

Unconsciously, Bonnie's hand reached out to the fox's head and brushed his long hair out of his eyes and gently tucked it behind his large ears. Her small brushes slowly evolved into longer strokes before finally transitioning into gentle caresses. It wasn't until Nick's ear began to twitch when she noticed that she had been brushing him. It was fairly strange to the bunny, how fond she had become of the tod in such a short time. She pulled her hand back - much to the tods obvious dismay - and quickly felt the need to explain herself.

"Sorry… I usually do that to my kids. Helps them go to sleep after they've had nightmares. It's a force of habit, I suppose." It was hard for her to believe that she had subconsciously caressed him. That she had instinctively helped this lonely child fall asleep, evidently present from the smile that was plastered along his mouth and the slight mews he had produced earlier.

Unfortunately Nick's grin had slowly faded from the lack of stimulation as he lay there snuggled into the cushions. "Is okay." He slurred out as he neared oblivion. "My mom did the same thing." Luckily for Nick the bunny couldn't make out his garbled words due to his slothful state, for she sharply would've noticed his use of past tense.

Bonnie took a seat on the couch next to his feet and faced towards him. "Son…" Nick heard once again, as he lethargically forced open his one good eye to get a good look at the motherly bunny looking down at him. "Will you still be here in the morning?" She lightly asked the drifting fox.

"I mean, you know that you're safe here right?" The bunny continued warmly.

Nick was visibly shocked by her question. At first his eyebrows raised in confusion before he lowered his guilty sightline to the surrounding photos lining the living room. He couldn't help noticing all of the jovial photos of the immense family, wide lensed snapshots that made every member tiny to accommodate the sheer capacity of the growing lineage. The fox felt surprisingly emotional, seeing the vast amount of all their beaming and familial smiles jumping from the images.

The fox spoke without thinking, feeling his sluggish words leaving his body like a pile of word vomit. "Yeah. Of course." After taking another look at the concerned mother, Nick quickly felt at ease with his response. You're safe here. "I'll be here, mam. I made a promise."

The mother smiled at the child, for the first time she no longer cared for the differences in their species. This young fox was sweet, and had pure intentions. He wouldn't have returned her necklace or even attended otherwise. She could see it all so clearly now.

"Okay then, get some sleep son. You, Stu and I have some things to discuss tomorrow." She told him as she checked her watch again.

Nicholas gave her a confident reaffirming nod before rolling onto his right side as to not agitate his busted eye/lip on the left half of his body. He had already felt like he was going to pass out from the moment he had laid on the couch and it took every inch of effort from him to not sleep while Bonnie was talking to him. Now after giving him a confirmation that they were finished for the night Nick gently closed his eye and instantaneously began to drift away.

Bonnie watched the child sail into sleep and soon found herself about to doze off as well. She studied his injured profile once more and still she couldn't believe how young the fox was. How different the reality of the kid compared to her once aggravating illusions of the thief.

Bonnie couldn't deny it, she had fallen into the trap. She was attached to this young fox and really cared for him.

The bunny stood up from the couch fully ready to go to sleep on her own. Grabbing his dirty clothes off the arm of the sofa, Bonnie walked back into the kitchen and shut off the lights subjecting the living room to the Bunny Burrows' almost complete darkness.

Dim light shone through the front doors window, coating the blank room in a faint midnight ignition. The star twinkled in the night once again, seemingly a bit more brighter than the other kindles surrounding it. Nicholas lie there in the safety of his prey's house, visible due to that faint reflection. The clean fox's belly softly rose and fell in a metronomic wavelike rhythm…

"Rise and shine." The gruff bunny stated to the crumpled pile of fox humorously sprawled out on his couch. Wearing his signature denim overalls, Stu was right and ready to take on the day. With the kids now freshly clean hoodie and sweatpants in hand Stu lightly threw them on top the sleeping tod.

Nick awoke with a light thud on his chest, causing him to stir and grumble. He tried to open both eyes and was quickly reminded of the previous nights affairs by the slight stinging of his sore optics. Barely managing to open his right eye, the fox was quick to notice the escaping father heading towards the front door.

"Get dressed and follow me." Stu commanded as he exited the house. "Hurry up."

Trying not to miss a beat (and make a bad third impression) Nick slowly shifted himself until he was in a sitting position. His abdominals, legs, and arms - basically every functioning muscle fiber of his - was aching in agony as he sat there, letting the blood flow throughout his body. He felt the discomfort from his dry eyes and chapped lips increase tenfold as he tried to look around the cold room. A timid heart pulsated quickly from its stress.

Even after brushing his unshorn fur from his tired eyes the sunlight was still noticeably dim from the inside of the house indicating that it must have been an early morning. Contrary to popular belief, Nicholas Wilde was not a morning mammal.

The fox huffed with resentment before gripping his black cotton clothing and standing up - ignoring the aching that flooded his body - feeling a little more calibrated and coordinated than the night before. That moment of gratitude was quickly abolished though as he felt the only garment he was wearing slip down his hips.

Nicks emerald green eyes went wide from the precipitous feeling of the cold air over his bare modesty. He quickly reached down to grab the descending underwear; barely managing to wrap his fingers around the waistband before they plummeted past his ankles. Unfortunately for the tod the added weight of his upper body leaning over his waist made him quickly lose his balance.

Nick then fell flat onto his bruised face. Highlighted with the sound of a slight pubescent, "oomph!"

"Oh-" Nick heard from the front door as it opened once more. He delicately lifted his head to see the fathers head peeking into the home. "and Good Morning." He replied with a cocky smile before he shut the door and disappeared behind it with a click.

The fox felt like slamming his head onto the carpet again. Yeah, a great morning.

Nicholas slowly picked himself off the floor until he was standing and quickly gave his body some time to adjust to his new altitude. Once he was acclimated to his new stance the fox looked down at the loosely lying waistband wrapped around his hips. He aggressively tied a knot in the excess material - making the garment little more form fitting - before turning back towards the couch and reaching for his clothes once again. This time just a little more cautiously.

...

Stu stood outfront the cream-colored house breathing in the hot morning air. It was somewhat stale - maybe even grainy - and had the slightest scent of manure. No doubt, the Willows are getting prepped for their season. Stu commented, knowing the lands around his home like clockwork. The early skyline of the district was still glowing a pale gray under their illuminating sun. An unfamiliar hot November morning in the Bunny Burrows for sure. Still, it displayed a swirl of colors at the base of the horizon giving a slight hint that this could be a beautiful day.

At least he had hoped it would be. There were so many grey days for him as of recently, he was practically begging for the farming season to come sooner. The nonstop work and varied weather would make his current emotions feel less overwhelming. Nothing between the crops growing in the yard and his family waiting for him to come home. A simple life, but one that he wouldn't trade the world for.

Today was going to be a challenge. A hurdle, for sure. Whether or not the thief getting ready inside the gruff bunnies living room would be able to vault it was yet to be determined. Yet, the father was a little less favorable towards the child's odds, vowing that the fox wouldn't make it a day before running away.

Almost as if he were on a cue, the fox exited the house with delicate steps - an aged wooden cane now grasped gracefully in his paws. He gently shut the front door before turning to face the porch, where Stu was now grounded giving him an aggressive stare.

Nick had emerged shirtless from the home as he was trying his hardest to keep pace with the farmer. The strings holding his baggy sweatpants were cinched tightly to his hips, much like his own undesired undies after he had tied a quick knot in the elastic to make them a little more situated to his frame. It was quite effective and equally as stupid looking since the knot was almost as big as a tennis ball.

Kid's as thin as a stick. Stu huffed at the sight; seeing the fox's emaciated body wasn't something that he expected to see this early in the morning. Still, he found that he was still amused as to how the fox had adapted to his own wide waisted clothing. He's ingenuitive. Not exactly practical, but ingenuitive I'll give him that.

Nick had slowly placed his hands inside the sleeves of his hoodie before daintily throwing the shirt over his sore head and wiggling it down his torso. Now dressed from head to toe, Wilde began to slowly walk towards Stu with a noticeable limp that the tod was trying to hide. Of course, the cane he had taken from the inside of the home certainly gave away his weakness quite obviously.

"You uh, you didn't see anything when you came back in, did you?" The fox asked now placing the ashplant on the wooden floor of the porch using it to aid in his stroll.

"What are you doing with that?" Stu questioned Nick with no emotion. Nick continued his hobbling towards the father until he was stood less than 3 feet in front of him. The fox gave the bunny a drowsy weak smile that was perfectly emphasized by his miserable looking black eye and bruised lip. The kid smacked his dry lips together before continuing with an utmost sincerity.

"Well, I saw this next to the front door on the way out. Figured since we were going for a walk that I'd need something to help keep my balance. I'm still kinda dizz-"

"That was my brother's cane." Stu interjected as if he was on cue. "I was only using it when I tweaked my back last week… When I was trying to fix all the problems you've caused."

Wilde's eyes quickly swelled agape from that sudden burst of information. Out of all things to be family heirlooms they have to be a necklace and a cane... It made sense to him though, bunny families were notorious for being humongous and deeply rooted, it was their signature really. Nick was sure almost everything in Stu's house belonged to someone else at some point before being passed down. He supposed the new question to be asked was, 'what wasn't a family heirloom?'

Nick immediately picked the cane up from the floor, trying to show the object and it's owner some due respect. After wobbling from the sudden loss of support Nick quickly replied, "I'm uh… I'm sorry. I didn't know that I was uh… responsible for so much." The fox apologized, fumbling to find the correct words due to his drowsiness.

"Yeah." Stu objectively answered, not fully accepting the tods apology. His furrowed eyebrows lessened their intensity, and his nostrils expanded as he sighed. "It seems you have a knack for leaving a mess wherever you go."

Nick gulped, feeling his guilty eyes darting away from the father out of pure instinct. He rather wished he were invisible right about now. "I'm sorry for being so brash about the cane… I should've asked if I could use it. I didn't know it was your bro-"

"Save it. You're going to need it for the things you need to do today." The bunny interjected once again, though this time he quickly turned around and began to step down the creaking porch. The cane huh? He's pragmatic as well, I suppose. Stu confirmed with a poorly suppressed grin. "I have the whole day planned out for you."

Shocked by the unexpected movement from Stu, Nick bobbled the cane in his hand before he finally got a firm grasp on the piece of wood. With a relieved huff Nick began limping down the stairs after him. "Where are we headed?"

"Outback. In the shed. I practically tore it apart making sure you didn't take any of our old stuff after you showed up. Plus, I need to hide you from my kids." Stu tamely answered as he began to walk off the porch to the back of the house. "You are staying behind the house - hidden away - until they leave for school."

Nick followed behind suitly, his paws crunching the dying grass underneath his weight. "Right…" He answered in a crestfallen tone. They can't risk having one of their kids seeing or talking about me. Smart. A logical decision.

"You better not have been talking to any of them. Especially Judy." The bunny continued, the back of his denim overalls being the only thing that Nick could focus on as he staggered after him.

"No sir, I haven't spoken to anyone."

"Keep it that way."

Nick gulped with intimidation. "Yes sir."

They continued their long trek towards the far back corner of the property, their large feet leaving temporary prints in the crumpled grass before the slight breeze then erased their marks.

"What exactly did you steal from us, kid?" The macho-bunny gruffed while reaching up to adjust his cotton twill hat.

"Oh, uh... " Nick began to slow his walking effort as he tried to recall, increasing the already noticeable gap between the pair. "Some liquor, a couple smart-tablets… Some of your prescriptions…" Nick heard a particularly loud grunt from the father in front of him.

"Took less than an hour for me to figure that out, compared to the two days I spent looking for my firewater."

Once again, Nick felt absolutely timid to the point where he basically whimpered out, "I'm really sorry about that."

"You should be sorry about last night." Stu spat out, shocking the frail child following him. "I specifically remember telling you that you were supposed to sleep on the floor. Not the couch. I gave you one rule yesterday and you've already broken it."

"Mr. Hopps, I was more than happy to sleep on the floor but Mrs. Bonnie insis-

"Blaming my wife for your inability to follow rules. You really can't be trusted. For all I know you're trying to swindle me. Swindle us. Waiting for you're next moment to steal." Stu motor-mouthed, picking up his pace towards the shed as it appeared closer to them.

Nick grunted in annoyance. "It's called a hustle, Mr. Hopps." He felt his correction slip out like a fish covered in baby oil.

"See you even admit to it."

Frustrated and appalled, Nick ignored the intense eye pain from eyebrows furrowing. It's too early for this. Taking a deep concentrated breath the fox continued, "Sir, I-I know I've made terrible mistakes, but I wish we were more… I dunno, civil about this. I may be a fox but I'm not the scum that you think I am."

"That is still up for debate." Stu defended, all the while continuing his accelerated steps towards the now approaching shed.

The constant interruptions and blatant attacks were starting to get to the boy, causing his nose to scrunch with annoyance. "I'm not here to hurt your family, Mr. Hopps. In fact, I'm offended that you would even think I would do that! I mean have you even looked at me? I'm in no shape to be doing anything that you've insinuated." Wilde appealed while spotlighting the cane he was using by making it crunch harder onto the ground.

"I don't care about you being offended, kid. In fact, I don't care about you at all." Stu rebuked feeling his once hasty pace now hitting the brakes. "You better believe that I triple checked that all my kids and belongings were well accounted for this morning before I even thought about waking you up. I'm glad I did."

Nick felt his nose crinkle with a heightened intensity. "Hey, I know I did a terrible thing to you guys. I know that I've hurt you and your family and that there is no taking that back, I know that. I'm sorry. You act like I'm not... cognizant of the things I've done, even though that is the whole reason I came back here." He finished while catching up to the bunny. Nick used his ever growing vexation as fuel to surpass all of the pain his body threw at him - closing the gap between him and the father. The kid was conscious of his ill-mannered treatment he was handing to Stu and just how emotional he was becoming, yet all the while he tried to maintain his composure and respectfulness for the elder.

"Ooh, 'cognizant' big word for a fox." Stu ruthlessly mocked him before suddenly coming to a hard footed halt. "I don't care about why you came back here, kid. I don't care if you're here to 'save your soul', I really don't. I've known people like you my entire life and I know for a fact that when the going gets tough you'll be long gone." He finished, now turning around to see the denigrated fox huffing at him with an intense use of his diaphragm.

I'm not evil. I'm not here to save my soul. Why can't this guy see it? Why is he treating me so harshly after I've tried every way possible to apologize? It's not like I'm the one who hurt Judy.

The fox felt his legs slow down as his mind took its turn to race.

"I didn't come back to hurt you, Mr. Hopps... Or Judy." Nick began, noticing Stu's nose twitch at the mention of his daughter. "You probably think I'm exactly like Gideon Grey, right?" The fox once again saw the nose twitch at the indication of the name. "No, no, no that makes perfect sense. I mean, Judy told me about him. That he hurt her. You were there, yeah?" Nick continued, seeing the steam whistling from the bunny's long ears. "An- and it probably doesn't sit right with you. Not being with her when it happened, not being there to watch her I bet. But now, another fox enters the frame and you think that I'm going to do the same thing to her. To the rest of your family, right?"

"That has nothing to do with this."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Hopps. But I would never do that."

"You better knock it off right now, fox!"

The tods teeth clenched together tightly as he let out a large muffled sigh, causing a bit of spit to soar from his mouth towards the ground. "Sir... I've done nothing but try and show you and your family respect since I came back, yet you still treat me like I'm the one who hurt her." Nick finished, his body so filled to the brim with adrenaline that he no longer needed the cane to hold his balance. Every ounce of drowsiness had seeped out of him in the grey morning weather. "You have every right to be cautious of me. I understand that Mr. Hopps, I really do. But I'm not Gideon."

Stu began to advance towards the fox, red hot fury incendiating in his eyes. "No. No you're not Gideon Grey." He started, pushing a thick finger into Nicks sore sternum, eliciting a muffled, "Ow…" from the bruised fox. "You are much worse. You're the cautionary tale that we were warned about as kids! You are the reason people like the Greys get to walk around doing whatever they want and bullying who they want with no consequence. You are the reason there is no sympathy between predators and prey." Nick flared his nostrils in disagreement.

"Gideon hurt one of my daughters. Damn near scarred her both physically and mentally. Bonnie and I were the ones that convinced her to forgive him. We gave your kind a second chance. He had to be the one bad apple in the bunch. He had to be." The fox visibly softened at the news.

"Not even a week later. A week. You showed up. You didn't just take our belongings, you took everything! Yeah Gideon had hurt one of my daughters, but you? You hurt everybody. My wife, my kids, hell the entire damn neighborhood was scared to walk outside at night." Nick could feel his annoyance subsiding, quickly dissolving into a new form of sadness and guilt.

"So don't you come here acting all high and mighty pretending to be more than you are. I don't give a damn that you're a kid because you're a textbook fox. You understand? You are the fox." Stu spat at the child, watching as his pride began to crumble. " I've tried giving you a chance this morning and look where this ended up. You are perfectly stereotypical." Stu huffed intensely, seemingly forcing all of his anger out in ragged breaths.

All the while, Nick kept his eyes on the father and never once did they falter. Yet, now after the fireworks had ended he had found himself at a loss for words. He's one hundred percent in the right. He knows it. I know it. I can't change his mind. He squeezed the cane in his paws tightly in his anger.

"Sir, I came to you guys with an open heart. I returned what I stole."

"Not all of it."

"You knocked me out when I surrendered myself!"

"As if you were innocent. Besides, you had a pocket knife on you."

"I'm not here to hurt you guys!"

"Yesterday you told me that 'I have every right to hate you', I've told you my reasons. I reserve that right."

"I just came here to help!" Nick yelled, hearing his childish voice now shift into a more mature growl.

"If you're really here to help, go clean out that shed. Spick and span." Stu stated obviously grown tired and frustrated of the current conversation. He pushed past the fox in the direction of the house, stealing back the cane out of the child's hand with a heaving pull and knocking the kid off balance. "I came out here to help you start off, but it looks like you have everything under control." He sped up swiftly leaving the messy shed in the possession of the tod.

"Oh, and when the going gets tough, feel free to run. I'll call up Detective Nash and have the farm surrounded. I don't think you're that dumb to try, though I wouldn't put it beneath you." The bunny finished - obviously pestered - as he walked back towards the home.

Nick stood alone, surrounded by the overwhelming field of dead grass. "I wouldn't put it beneath you." What an ass. The fox thought to himself as he reached up and aggressively yanked his hoodie back over his injured face. He annoyingly kicked at the ground around him before losing his balance. After striking his feet back into the ground and adjusting himself the fox spun around and continued his journey to the sun faded shed - more shakily now without the cane. I shouldn't talk like that. That's not who I am. The fact that I'm not in Juvie means that I basically won the lottery. Don't talk like that Nick. Don't be like that. Don't.

"- don't you come here acting all high and mighty pretending to be more than you are." The fox mocked, dismissing the sting those words shot at him. Is it such a foreign concept to want to help the people that you've hurt? Maybe he could spare some empathy?

Gosh Honey... Why did you get me to do this? Nick wistfully questioned his legal guardian. "Sometimes being more means asking for forgiveness."

That's why I came here. Besides, the whole reason I started this stuff was because I was trying to help people. And I have! Maybe if they knew the reason why I was stealing- Nick froze at the idea. He didn't like it. No way. That's a no-no. He was already struggling knowing that the truth would come out eventually, hell he was basically counting down the seconds. But if he had to explain why he was in an orphanage then he'd have to tell them about her.

Mom.

Arriving at the medium-sized outbuilding, Nick grabbed the heat-soaked door handle and jerked it open. After the onslaught of heat seemingly slapped him in his face he was quick to notice the many cardboard boxes stacked on one another, stacking high into the ceiling and accumulating dust. Bugs and insects were sticking to the corners of the building hoping to maintain their well established paths. A scarcely seen workbench was found on the other end of the construction along with a pegboard that was lined around the wall, loosely holding tools that looked like they hadn't been touched in a while.

The fox took hesitant steps into the property, trying to remain aware of the loose items scattered along the floor as to not hurt himself (even more so). The timber floorboards were intensely scattered with screwdrivers, pamphlets and many many layers of dust. Tilting and pivoting his way into the room Nick was shocked when he came across quick movement towards the corner of the room. A thin mirror leaning on one of the wooden walls next to an old navy garbage bin. His reflection was disguised by a thick coat of dust that lay along the beautiful mirror top.

Gently pulling the cotton hood off of his head, Nick gave himself a meditated gaze. He looked… better. Not by much, but the swelling of his face had decreased leaving scabs and dark bruises along his eyelid, face and lip. Not the same fox, but similar. His once familiar hoodie and sweatpants were the cherry on top.

"You really can't be trusted." Nick repeated the father's words as slow drops of sweat already began to slide down his face, most likely originating from the thick layers of clothes he had on.

That's bull… right? The fox questioned, trying his hardest not to second guess. The tod staring back at him with resentment disagreed, his squinted black eye proving to be the point. Alright, fine. I can't be trusted. That's not the worst thing in the world. He heard himself sniffle as his nose began to drip and his eyes became moistened with a liquid just as salty as his sweat. Stop Nick. Knock it off.

Never let them see that they get to you.

The fox focused his breathing again, though this time he was more determined than ever to regain his facade. "Never let them see that they get to you." Nick affirmed himself, his chest sticking out proudly once more. A clenched hand eased opened as Nick talked himself into slackening. "It's okay… You're okay… You're going to be okay."

He tried his hardest to smile over the sound of his sniffling, and soon found the strain of it wearing off. It was easier compared to last night. Sure, he didn't have the same charisma that he once had months ago, but he found that he was able to grasp onto the shreds of tolerance that he previously thought were long gone.

"Never let them see that they get to you." He huffed out in confirmation, feeling himself slip away.

"You did what, Stu?"

"I told him exactly what I thought of him. Now I'm making him clean up the shed." He answered nonchalantly as he crunched on a rufous apple. Bonnie and Stu stood in the living room of their house, trying their hardest to argue in hushed tones as to not alert the multitudes of bunnies getting ready for school. Hordes of their children were running around them into the kitchen and back upstairs towards their rooms shouting commands at the several preoccupied ears around them. "After that, I think I'll have him clean the gutters on the roof."

"Stu, he is a child! A child that you punched in the head! He probably has a concussion for all we know. He's in no condition to be exerting himself that much."

"So?"

"So! He's sensitive right now. You need to be more careful of what you say to him." Bonnie furiously fired back while folding up the child's crumpled blankets that lay scattered on the couch. "Besides the morning news said that it's supposed to be hot out today and you have him locked up in an unventilated shed wearing a sweatshirt! What if he gets Heat Stroke?"

"C'mon Bon… When I was a kid, my dad would wake me up every day at 3 to start my chores. Out of all of my brothers and sisters he always picked me. It builds character. He's here to make things right, yeah? Consider this a first step." He finished by crunching loudly into his juicy apple.

"This isn't about you Stu. It's about that boy you assaulted yesterday."

"He had a pocket knife on him Bonnie, and may I remind you that he broke into our home! I'd hardly say he was innocent." Stu mumbled incoherently, his mouth occupied with the large amount of fruit. "Some people would say I'm a hero, y'know."

"His hands were in the air! What did you think he'd really use it on one of us? Especially after he returned my necklace! I mean, he's just a kid Stu!"

"He certainly is not a kid. When you do the things he does, you don't get to hide behind your age Hon. Besides, we don't even know what he's capable of!" The father retorted while moving towards his wife. He quickly stopped her folding, stuffed the apple in his mouth and pinched a long strand of orange hair from the sheets and held it to Bonnie's lavender eyes. "Jus luke he leafs ah mesh! (Just look, he leaves a mess!)" Stu tried to comment with the fruit still clamped in his mouth.

Eyebrows furrowed, Bonnie quickly reached up and plopped the apple right out of his mouth before shoving it in his free hand. "If you stayed longer last night. If you just saw how upset he was-"

"The kid's not an onion Bon! We're not here to peel back the layers. He was just upset he got caught." Stu countered, stuffing the fox's fur in his overall pocket in order to hide it from his now peeking kids. "Besides, he told me that you allowed him to sleep on the couch?"

"That kid is the reason I have my necklace back Stu. You know how much that means to me." Bonnie retorted, setting the now folded sheets on the arm of the couch.

"I know Bon, but he returns one thing out of all of the stuff he took and were just supposed to forgive him? For everything?"

"I'm not saying that."

"It certainly seems like it."

"I'm not saying that Stu! Look I know that he caused us a lot of problems and I'm not saying to sweep everything under the rug, but at least give the kid a chance to redeem himself and stop treating him like he's a murderer for gosh sakes!" The mothers 'inner alarm' suddenly began to tingle as she stopped to look at the one child not running around the cramped home.

Her perky ears were stiffly sticking in the air, barely noticeable over the multiple gray afterimages of her siblings running back and forth in front of her. Judy sat upon an oversized wooden chair, her ears now curiously bending towards her parents and very intent on listening to their silenced argument (and more importantly, their sudden stop in conversation).

"Jude honey, shouldn't you be getting ready for school?" Bonnie asked her child much to her newfound dismay. Finally getting the hint, Stu now turned towards his daughter. He wasn't expecting to see her downhearted face.

"I'm already done." She answered over the commotion of her brothers and sisters yelling back and forth across the room. Her tiny baby blue backpack rested against the leg of the rotting timber chair.

"Okay then sweetheart, why don't you go help your younger brothers get ready?" Stu instructed lovingly as he turned back towards his wife, willingly shifting the conversation back to their little 'problem' in the shed. "Me and you're mother are just getting ready-"

"He's in the shed? Right now?" Judy asked, startling the father as he turned back to look at her with wide eyes.

"How did you-"

"I heard." The daughter abruptly interrupted much due to Stu's agaped mouth. "Can I go see him? Is he okay, after last night?"

Stu stumbled with his words, snapping his head towards his wife to come up with an answer. Her humorous shrug gave him exactly what he needed to know. That this was his conversation.

"Er… He's fine Jude…" Stu confirmed, making the bunny sit a little more at ease. "and no you absolutely cannot go see him. Sweetie I don't want you getting close to him, okay? We don't know him. Or what he's capable of. He could hurt you."

"Dad, he could've easily done that when he broke in! I think you should take it easy on him." Judy found herself on the defensive much to her own subconscious surprise. "He's kinda like me. I think he's only trying to do the right thing."

Stu gave a fatherly sigh before walking over to his daughter and squatting in front of her, matching her height. "Judy… I will treat him the way he needs to be treated. Okay?" He comforted, grabbing hold of her hand as his other children bustled behind him

Judy gulped, knowing she'd be creating some dissonance between her father with her next words. "I think you're being too mean to him. I know that he's here to help. He wouldn't have came back otherwise - I have this feeling."

Mr. Hopps gave a conformational grunt. "Gosh, you sound just like your mother." He smiled while rubbing his temples. "Jude, I get it. Really, I do. But I can't let him off all willy-nilly, no matter what you feel towards him." Stu answered back, causing the once rising crescendo of yelling to suddenly come to a halt as some of his children stopped to listen in.

Wait… what did I just say? What did-

"Oooh, Judy got in trouble!" Some chanted.

"Judy likes someone that dad doesn't!" Others chimed in.

Her wide eyes perfectly mimicked her fathers, since both of them were now turning cherry red due to the miscommunication. Now upset for being chastised and overlooked, she stood up and furiously (albeit a bit embarrassingly as well) snatched her backpack. "It's not that type of feeling, dad." Her furrowed eyes darted across the room nervously. "How come you and mom never listen to me?" She angrily whispered at her father before sliding past him - heading into the kitchen.

Stu watched her walk away, shoulders drooped and back stiff. The classic Hopps' sign of defeat.

"What can of beans did you open now?" Bonnie asked as she approached her husband, folded sheets now in her hand.

"One that I never ever wanted to open." Stu answered back, his mind now over occupied. "You know that she takes after you more, right?"

"Yeah…" The mother answered with a mischievous smile before starting her walk towards the laundry room. "Maybe you should listen to her more often."

Judy continued her walk of shame into the kitchen, finding the time to grab her water bottle out of her bag as she trudged. Some of her brothers and sisters were quick to approach her rapidly asking, "What are mom and dad talking about Judy?" Judy was quick to answer back-

"Nothing much. They're just talking about that fox again." They soon backed off after hearing that, since conversation about the fox was turning into a common occurrence with their parents due of the past couple of days (though it had never been this complicated).

After gaining a distance from her prying siblings, she moseyed towards the sink with her bottle now uncapped with the full intent of filling it up before the bus came. She turned the sink on and began to fill the plastic container with the tap, before noticing the roughly crumpled scarlet rag in the sink. It had been faded and diluted from the water running through it, but still it looked as if one of her siblings had smeared the cloth with copious amounts of red sharpie. She wasn't certain, but the bunny had a great guess as to what exactly the rag had cleaned the night before. He didn't bleed that much did he?

After shutting the water off and twisting the cap back onto her flask, Judy looked up from the sink and through the small window in front of her. Though she had to squint to see that far, she could distinctly see that the shed door was opened but there was no movement from the establishment. He has to be in there… He has to be okay.

Her thoughts halted when she heard her mother's voice floating over the rumbling of several feet stomping on the porch. "Bus is here! C'mon!" Bonnie chimed, her voice just slightly distraught from her private conversation with her husband. It was slight though, and Judy was absolutely sure that only she would pick up on it. She turned towards her mother, taking a glance at her signaling her brothers and sisters to move along, all before she directed her vision onto her. Bonnie very obviously motioned at her as well, yet Judy was remorseful to not take the hint and quickly shifted her gaze at the matte wooden floors devoid of all polish.

Taking one last look at the shed the bunny very briefly saw a foxy flash of red overcome the darkened view. He moved what looked like a very heavy cardboard box onto the floor before pushing it back into the recess of the building. How could he be moving boxes when he couldn't even stand last night? The bunny thought to herself before feeling a hand on her shoulder.

"How's he doing?" Bonnie barged in behind the child, taking a similar look at the fox in the open shed.

After recuperating from the uninvited infringement, Judy replied, "It's supposed to be really hot today, yeah? So why is dad working him so hard? He could barely stand by himself yesterday."

"I don't know… But it's going to be okay Judy. He's going to be okay." The mother continued, now pulling her daughter away from the sink and towards the front door. "You watch out for your brothers and sisters and I'll watch him for you, okay?"

"You promise?" Judy inquired as she felt her backpack being slipped onto her shoulders.

"I promise you." Bonnie answered with a warm smile. "Now go get on your bus okay?" She finished by patting her child on the back, sending her off for the day.

"Have a good day kids!" Stu boasted, as he popped out from the house to stand next to his wife. He waved his wide paws at his children as they ran out towards the bus ready to take on the day. All of them giggling, all of them smiling. At least, all except one.

Judy stood alone on that porch for a second as she parted the wide river of siblings running around her. Even with 'him' here nobody's listening to me. No one cares what I think. "Judy!" Her father smiled at her, seemingly unfazed by her feelings. He was oblivious to the thoughts that rebounded in her head and for a second Judy felt like she would scream. She stared at her parents with a certain distrust before taking a couple steps in their direction, until she was sure all of her siblings wouldn't be able to hear her from the distance. Though they kept their eyes on her, she still felt as if she were translucent. Maybe even glass-like. I'm still invisible to them.

"Dad."

Though he didn't understand what she meant - or if she was asking him for something - Stu stood his ground with a comforting face, albeit he was a little taken aback from her obstructions. It wasn't until he felt his wife rubbed his back when he took the hint. She really does care for that fox. He gave her an all-knowing smile and nodded at her lovingly before egging her to move along. "It's going to be okay sweetheart."

Moments passed. The sound of the engine roaring slowly faded as the distressed-yellow bus headed out towards the local Bunny Burrows High School, Junior High School, and finally the Elementary School. And the further the transportation got, the more Stu's familial smile began to wear off and fade away into the deep wrinkles that lined his mouth. "Did you see the way she looked at me Bon?" The father asked, the silence of the farmland becoming increasingly emptier.

"The way she looked at us, Stu." Bonnie answered while turning to look at her husband. She took a moment to gaze at the fading school bus before continuing, "You know she's the best of you and I."

"Oh yeah she is..." Stu replied, admiring how much he appreciated the bunnies in his life. "And she's right too." He turned to look at his wife's dumbfounded expression. He cockily chuckled, "The kid told me the same thing this morning. That he's only here to help."

"Then why are you so against the idea? Everyone seems to be on board except for you."

"The kid terrorized us, Bon. Are we just supposed to forgive him for that?" Stu asked - his back stiffening as he pushed himself off from the door frame.

The mother paused considerately, before reaching for his knobbly hand. "Yes. Yes we are." Bonnie answered pridefully, a surprising shock to her husband for sure. "We can't hold grudges over that little boy. He was so ashamed, Stu." She finished reminiscing over her previous nights interaction with the tod.

Stu grunted in disapproval once again, though after some time his focused face began to disappear. Can't believe I'm letting this kid get to me the way he has. He's a juvenile. A delinquent… But he's still a kid. A kid who's made some really 'questionable' adolescent choices. Stu looked at his uncle's cane that was now resting in the corner of the porch where he left it. I got to admit, he's got some redeemable characteristics. Maybe something good could come out of him. He chuckled soon after stating (not for the first time), "Yeah well, maybe you're right Hon."

"He's had some bad direction, Stu. But he's a good kid, a great kid. I've seen it. He's got potential, if we give him the chance."

Potential. Stu pondered on those words with an enchanted smile. Gosh, I hate when you're right. Their handhold tightened lovingly. He smiled, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek. "Y'know I can't completely forgive him, Bon." Stu grumbled, as he slowly let go of his wife's hand as he stepped out of the doorframe and meandered toward the front of the porch. "I hope that he means well but…"

They stood there alone on the porch accompanied by the light breeze that the early morning sun provided. The gray sky had began its transition to its colorful shades of blue. A welcome sight to the two mammals hidden in the shadow of their cream porch.

"He's supposed to be at school today." Bonnie stated, single handedly breaking the silence with an assuaging ease. "He's only twelve years old."

"One year until he's a teen, huh?" Stu joked, taking the time to think back to his childhood youth. "I can't even imagine how much of a pain he'll be when he becomes one." Bonnie gradually laughed at his humor before slapping his arm heartily.

"You're speaking from personal experience. He's a sweetheart." She added, still rallying from her chuckling. Moments after her amusement died down Bonnie joined her husband at the front of the porch, once again progressing the conversation forward. "Besides, no one could be as troublemaking as you were when we were kids."

"Better not tell him that, he might take that as a challenge." Stu huffed in amusement with his gravelly throat. "Eh, I'll talk to him about that absence. Maybe, if he does a good job today I can call up my brother. He just finished his residency at some hospital in Sahara and I can have him write up a doctors note."

"Yeah, a doctors note could help…" Bonnie began thinking about the young fox once again, though this time with a little more focus on his own health. "I was helping him after he got out of the shower last night. He could hardly keep your underwear on he was so skinny."

"He ended up tying a knot in the waistband this morning. Looked ridiculous." Stu chuckled. "Still I mean, the kids pretty sharp huh? It couldn't have been easy to break into our house - let alone dozens of others - and the way he talks and acts… It's like nothing I've seen before in any child."

"Yeah. He's really… articulate and… surprisingly mature." Bonnie added, feeling her mind vaulting off the walls with her thoughts. "It makes you wonder why he was even burglarizing houses in the first place, huh?"

Stu was quick to notice her discomforting expression from his usually easygoing wife as she stared off in the distance of their porch - a habit that she formed whenever she was thinking hard - and was more than confident to ask, "What's on your mind?"

"He says that he's here to help us - that he wants forgiveness - but I mean, It's obvious that he's missing something right?" She continued. "Maybe even, someone?" Bonnie turned to the calloused hand that she grasped, running her fingers over the tactile history.

"What are you getting at Bon?"

Bonnie huffed, she knew that she was entering 'overprotective mom mode' when she had no right to. She licked her lips anxiously before asking, "Why did he do it, Stu? Steal from us, I mean. I can't think or find a motive behind him… It's just… something isn't adding up. He's so frail and unhealthy and yet so sweet despite it all. "

Stu gruffed in agreement, nodding his head along with his wife's words. "I saw him this morning putting on that hoodie of his. What, you think he has some eating disorder? He probably just metabolises his food quickly, I heard some foxes are like that." He answered back, not knowing what his wife was getting at. "Besides, that's not our problem sweetie. It's his parents."

"Well that's the thing… He told me yesterday that he just has a hard time keeping weight on himself… yet he ate that soup like he hadn't eaten all day…" The mother began to anxiously tap her fingers on the old painted handrail, producing four rhythmic thuds following perfectly in time with one another as her fingers fell onto the wood. "And Judy said that he had a bruised eye when she described what he looked like to the police. All of that on top of his untrimmed fur... I don't know, I just feel like… Maybe he's..." She was freezing at the thought. "Stu… do you think… his parents… could they?"

Stu was somewhat flabbergasted at his loves insinuations. How could I not have thought about that before. "I… I don't know Bonnie. I never even thought about that to be honest." The mother understandably nodded her head along, giving a soft "hmm".

"Stu… We have to give him a chance… If there's something wrong-"

"What? We call the cops on his parents? Get him into CPS? Bon that just unravels everything he's done and it'll send him to Juvie either way. There's no… safe way of going about that." Bonnie gave a defeated huff at her husbands words. He was absolutely right.

"Well… what if we drop the charges on him?"

"They'll probably link the dozens of other cases of a 'teen fox with a swollen black eye' to him Honey. There's no outcome of this where he comes out… 'fine'."

Bonnie gave a silent frown before lowering her head towards the wooden porch rail. She let out a flattened sigh and shut her eyes as she composed herself. "So… we can't do anything to help him… If it's true."

"I don't think we can Bonnie." Stu affirmed her, sealing their defeated emotions.

"So what do we do?"

The husband grasped his wife's hand tightly without hesitation."Just what you said before. We give him a shot. We work with him."

"What does that mean to you exactly, Stu?" Bonnie felt herself briskly licked her lips before she began criticizing, "You actually need to give him a chance. If everything turns out to be true… Then he may really need someone. He might need… us."

Stu silently nodded along, finally agreeing with his wife for the second time of the day (not that he was keeping count, but Bonnie for sure was tallying up her small victories).

"I'll be better Bon. I'll give him every chance." He gave his soulmate a heartfelt smile that perfectly displayed his heartfelt wrinkles.

"Ah, there we go." The sweaty fox chimed as he shuffled the boxes in the shed. At this point the voluminous beads of salty sweat scattered along his youthful face were amalgamating and gushing down his maw. Taking a quick moment to wipe his dirty forehead with his dusty hoodie sleeve, Nick shoved a neatly stacked set of cardboard boxes along the wooden floor until a perspicuous pathway was made.

If he had to bet - which he would most understandably wouldn't, considering the free labor he was completing was the result of some terrible luck - maybe only two hours had passed. Being as he didn't have his phone and there was surprisingly not a single clock in the dusty old shed, the fox's touch had already made the shed a whole lot nicer in the short amount of time he had been working.

The scorching squared space was seemingly made much more spacious due to his work. The boxes were dusted (for the most part) and were neatly stacked away in the small upper attic of the wooden structure. The floors and prehistoric furniture were no longer flooded over with heaps of mismanaged and mismatched junk. Instead the room had become positively more commodious. Undeniable progress had been made.

"Not bad." the fox stated, as he drank in all the hard work he had done. His cramped hands sat on his waist as his lips curled into a beaming smile. Though his body was becoming increasingly more sore - his back in particular - he still found that he was able to accomplish a little shifting around without too much muscular pain. That or the constant wear on his body was giving him a higher threshold of pain tolerance. Or maybe I'm just the tiniest bit dead inside. He smiled in amusement. "Not bad at all."

After breathing in his advancements once more, he quickly went back to work. Box after box was pulled down, opened, sorted and then restacked. Pulled down, opened, sorted and restacked. The task was tedious for sure (and a hell of a lot more redundant) but soon enough it became like clockwork to the kid.

That was until he felt his swaying tail smack against another box that rested behind him. After yelping a nearly silent, "Crap!" the fox had just barely spun around - reacting just in time - and forcefully caught it in his tired hands.

Nick huffed and puffed from the sudden movement (and the ever warming heat), before noticing how tightly he held the box. The crumpled heap was now dented from his paws, ruining the noticeably newer looking box. Hope there was nothing of value in this one... he thought to himself as he began an inspection of the cardboard. His tired eyes widen with an intensity though, when he discovered the word 'MUSIC' written with a bold black sharpie.

Almost as if he were in a trance, Nick found himself drawn to the now nicked case. He would blame it on boredom later, but for now he slowly pulled open the beige flaps to reveal stack after stack of dusty records laying on top of what seemed to be-

"A broken record player, huh?" The fox's emerald green eyes twinkled like a child that found a toy. Well oh well… What do we have here? He thought to himself rascally as his defined dimples quickly cameoed once more. His sore hands meticulously removed the item from his temporary enclosure and pulled it close to his long torso.

Something had changed within the tod. It was almost as if he were a different person as he scanned the contraption, thoroughly inspecting to see why it was thrown in the incredibly hot shed in the first place. After a mere minute he was already robotically going through his own self-developed diagnosis. Broken needle, cracked outer frame, bent tone-arm and... maybe a broken motor? He wrapped his thumb and index finger around the center spindle and began to twist, testing the tension on the rotations.

"Definitely a broken motor." He confirmed with a twinkling grin. "Though, I just might be able to fix this."

His body seemingly took over his mind, as he robotically turned around and lay the heap of trash on the dusted workbench nearby. Not a second later he was standing over the contraption reaching for a Phillips Head, looking like a surgeon ready for their first incision with a scalpel. Though no sane surgeon would have the prideful and mischievous grin plastered onto their face like this kid did. This was heaven to the tod. This was comfortable. This was home.

"You still in there?" The child heard from the entrance of the progressively cleaner sauna-like room. He turned towards the doorway to see the one bunny that had a forte for ruining his mood. Stu Hopps. "Hey, look who decided to stick around." The father added as he stepped into the shed.

"Hey it's looking pretty good in here, who woulda thunk? There's hope for you yet kid." Stu teased as he looked around the impressing building with wide eyes. "What are you doing with-" Stu awkwardly stopped at the sight of the child standing over his old record player, since he rather felt like he was barging in on an intimate moment. "Oh… So you're a tinkerer huh?" The father categorized the kid, knowing first hand just how important that fading smile on his face was. "Motors busted on that. Plus a couple of other things that have made it a perfectly nice looking paperweight. But… you probably found that out yourself, right?"

Nick froze at the interruption, feeling his interested smile now beginning to seal away into oblivion.

"So… Not going to say anything, huh? I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing…" Stu empathized when the fox left the workbench and began to lift the boxes once again.

"My apologies." Nick lightly mocked in a medieval tone, disregarding the last words from the father. "I'm not trying to be rude. It's just that my noggins not exactly what it used to be so let's just blame it on that, yeah? It's all kinda just mush up here now, I'm sure you could hear my brain slosh when I move around." Nick answered back, not taking this conversation very seriously.

Stu stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest in an uninviting way. The father gave an embarrassed sigh before adding, "Yeah, I suppose I deserve that one." The bunny sighed as he leaned on the doorway, his lips pressed into a flat line.

Nicks eyebrows furrowed in curiosity followed by his slightly ajar mouth giving a mild, "Huh." He thoroughly inspected the bunny up and down, trying to understand his gameplan. "Did I miss something here? Did I get brain damage at some point, or is it just so hot in here that I'm seeing hallucinations now? Actually, come to think of it I did detect a whiff of toast earlier today-"

"Kid, I'm real. Besides, heat exhaustion is far more likely than a stroke."

"Well, so much for wishful thinking." Nick fumed as he turned back towards the boxes and began pushing them around the rough timber floors. "Also, I thought for sure that you just got done telling me that I'm a 'textbook fox'. That you didn't care why I was here. So do I have permission to ask why you're back so soon Mr. Hopps? Did you get bored or something?" The fox ended while wiping his sweaty forehead once again with his soft cotton sleeve. Nick robotically reached for the closest sorted box near him almost as if it were a well developed reflex.

"You're lifting with your back."

"Yeah, so?"

"It's sloppy. You could hurt yourself like that."

"Yeah, that's what happens after you've been doing squats in a hot shed all morning. You get a little tired."

"Well then, why don't you come inside for a few minutes. Cool down, compose yourself?"

"Pfft, as if."

"Well then." Stu stopped their quickly developing argument, knowing that it was in the completely opposite direction of why he was there in the first place. "Say, what's your name kid?"

Though he didn't show it, Nick froze. He knew that this conversation were to happen soon, but he never thought about the consequences of it. A habit that he had gotten used to in the past couple of months it seemed.

"Don't tell me you're scared of telling me your nam-"

"If I tell you my name then you'll call up the police or that detective and have me arrested at anytime in any district, so excuse me if I'm being a little stingy." Nick interrupted while leaning forward on a box, his back facing the father. "Hell, like you said. One call and the Bunny Burrows are surrounded. I'm not dumb enough to run, but I'm not dumb enough to give you that type of information just for you to royally screw me over later."

"I'm not trying to screw you over, kid."

"Oh yeah, and I'm just supposed to take your word for it?"

"It seems that way, I suppose." Stu guided, hoping that the fox would be somewhat accepting to his advances. "You'll just have to trust me."

"Trust you? You've got me one call away from spending time in a prison cell and to compensate you have me doing some illegal child labor. You expect me to trust you after all of that?"

"You broke into my house and stole my private property, besides I'm sure this is a better alternative to a Juvenile Detention Center so I'd say it's a pretty even trade." Stu interjected, feeling his emotions on the rise.

"Yeah, well it doesn't feel very even to me. It feels unethical." He spat back. "Yeah, trust you…" Nick answered with an amused grin.

"What's with the defense tactics?" Stu interrupted, feeling his tone rise in attentiveness. The kit pivoted on his heels to face him. "What's your wound?"

"Excuse me?" Nick implored as he leaned down to pick up another box off the floor and stack it. "What's my wound? Have you seen my face? You're my wound." The fox spat back fluidly.

"No, no besides all of that. You're hiding something kid, I know you are. You're hiding behind your ego. You keep your cool and throw a couple jokes out here and there to create a screen, but you're actually just moving the conversation along the way you want to. It's subtle. Smart, even."

"Why the sudden interest?" Nick terminated, now feeling quite a bit more angrier than he had earlier in the morning. "Quite frankly Mr. Hopps, I have no clue what you're talking about. There's no lie, no trauma, no ulterior motive here. I'm just here to help, that's all. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I've had over 250 kids so I think it's safe to assume that I know something's up with you. I mean there's gotta be a reason you became a thie-"

"Wow, you must be fun at parties." Nick answered with a sarcastic smirk. "Tell me, Mr. Hopps how did you find time to become a farmer and psychologist on the side too?"

"See, case and point." Stu confirmed, placing his hands inside his overalls pockets.

"Okay. Alright, for the sake of argument let's say you're right. Let's say I'm trying to steer this conversation." The fox added in, now smacking his hands together to get the dust loose from his paws. "Just what would I be trying to hide from you, huh?"

"I don't know, would you mind telling me?" Stu questioned.

"Oh that's hilarious. Genius. So you're a psychologist and a comedian now too, huh Mr. Hopps? Where do you find the time?" The fox concluded, losing interest in his joke at the very end. "Me steering the conversation… No that's great." He babbled, looking around the entire shed before his eyes landed on the bunny blocking the exit. "Are we just supposed to act like today and last night didn't happen? Ignore the throbbing of my eye? Snub the frankly, harmful stereotypes that you indulge me with this morning?"

"If we have to. We don't have to be friends kid, but this isn't going to work if we can't learn to trust each other."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." Nick sputtered, waving his hand lazily in the air in an effort to stop the redundancy. I just have to make it through today. One day at a time. C'mon Nick.

Never let him see that he's getting to you.

The fox lazily dazzled his signature sly grin, as he felt his weakening fake charisma take over his anger. "Name's Nicholas, my friends call me Nick." He approached the father with an outstretched hand. "At your service, evidently."

"Nicholas, huh? Well... you certainly don't look like a Nicholas."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Well, typically Nicholas' are on the more… innocent side of things." The bunny criticized while reaching out and contributing to the open handshake. Nick gave an unimpressed smirk. "Don't you have a last name or something, Nicholas?"

"Wow. This is moving so fast. Usually people buy me dinner first before asking for the last name." Nick quickly joked as he gripped Stu's hand in a solid manner. Stu actually cracked a smile. "Wilde. Nicholas Piberius Wilde."

"Piberius?" The father gave a delighted chuckle after they let go of their bond and leaned back onto the door frame. "Like from 'Star Trek'?

"You mean the middle name of the great James Kirk? Captain of the Starship Eagleprice?" Nick babbled with a tone dribbling with an entertaining mischief. "No, no, no. That's Tiberius. With a T."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. There's no way you're telling the truth." Stu accused halfheartedly with a wide grin slapped onto his face.

"Believe me I am. It's on my birth certificate and everything." Nick gave his classic half smile. "Yup, I'm the one who has to live with that."

"Star Trek huh?" Stu finished his chuckling as his amusement began to rise. "Y'know... I think you're more of a Han Solo type." The bunny commented, making the fox look away in an entertained expression.

"Now, what would give you that idea?." Nick added while lifting a box off the ground once more. "Though, I think the idea of being the universe's best space smuggler has something to do with that. That or the devilish charm that comes with it." The fox yabbed, seemingly forcing the father to agree with the statement.

"So your dad's a fan of Sci-fi, huh?" Entreated the father, hoping to get some more information out of the sweaty and dusty kit.

"Nope." Nick corrected. "My mom was the fan, believe it or not."

"Was?" Stu insinuated.

His emerald eyes widened in a thunderbolt. Oh crap. He had slipped. He had gotten way too comfortable in their banter (something that he did not expect to happen in a billion years). Take it down a couple notches, Wilde.

Yet without missing a beat, Nick placed the box on top of the growing stack and turned to the implicating father. "Was. She didn't like anything past the Original Series. Couldn't stick with it, I guess." Nice. Not a bad recovery, and definitely not a lie either. "She said that if I was going to have a middle name that it couldn't be anything from her side of the family. So she gave me the middle name from the most fearless space explorer in the galaxy." He answered with a dimple now forming on his red cheek.

"Well, why didn't you get a middle name from your dad's side?" Mr. Hopps continued, egging the child on.

Nick was quick to notice though and truthfully said, "Well, I doubt you'd have a better guess than I do. My dad left my mom the moment he found out she was pregnant with me." Nick answered heartily while continuing his rearrangements, not understanding the true severity of his answer. "Talk about a 'textbook fox', huh."

Stu was somewhat flabbergasted. He had expected a rough childhood from the child, yet he never once thought about the effect that it would've had on him. Or at least the lack of. He couldn't imagine having to grow up without a father figure, especially since his own had been so accommodating. This kid had none of that and yet he came out so intelligent, so diligent all on his own.

"I'm uh, sorry about that." Stu blubbered wholeheartedly, expecting the fox to be somewhat jaded from his probing. "I can't even begin to empathize with that."

"Hey, it's no problem Mr. Hopps. I'm not upset about it. Me and my mom got along just fine without him." Nick flashed a warm smile at the overwhelmed father before leaning over to push his stack of boxes into the corner. "It's actually rather nice to talk about it with someone… Kinda therapeutic in a way, y'know?" He added with a grunt.

"Is that why you didn't like me calling you a uh… 'textbook fox'?"

"Cause it was insinuating that I'm like my dad?" The fox mused, knowing just how stiff the current conversation must have been for the bunny. Though Stu couldn't see it, Nick had winced particularly hard at the nickname. "Kind of. It's like being told that you're nothing. Despite how you know in your heart that it's not true. It's… degradingly consistent. But I know who I am in my heart, sir. I know for certain that I'm better than that. I wouldn't wish that kind of pain on anyone."

"Well that's nice to hear. There's not many kids around here that have a humility like that, especially not Gideon Grey." Stu grinned, finding himself accepting the once-thought evil fox. "What about your mother? How is she treating you?"

Nicks eyebrow raised in curiosity. "She's good. Good, y'know?" He desperately tried to deflect, knowing that questions about her would loosen his charm.

"That's it? Just good? I mean, where's she from? Does she cook a lot? Does she know that you... well steal?"

Now now now… where have I heard this one from? The fox gave an unenthusiastic grunt as he finished pushing the mountain of boxes out of the way into a corner. "You know, I was asked a similar question yesterday…" Nick swiveled to look at the bunnies now concerned face. "Or should I say, very early this morning." He finished certainly deadpanned.

Stu was absolutely sideswiped (and didn't even try to hide it as he reactively sucked in his lips). "Er… look-"

"Mrs. Bonnie put you up to this didn't she?" The fox accused out of the side of his mouth while turning back to his new stack of boxes to clean and restack. "Why didn't she just ask me herself? If you want trust, you should know that I trust her a lot more than you anyway."

"She just had… concerns." The father continued, feeling a little bit shell-shocked from the sudden turn of the conversation.

"I'm sure she did. She's the only one who cared enough to ask me about them." The kit retributed, effectively shutting down the father's friendly conversation. "Do you want me to give you the same answer?"

"Look Nick…" Stu paused, waiting for the kid to turn towards him. As soon as he did, the bunny lifted his hat off his head. "We're just worried abou-"

"Oh we're worried?" Nick rudely interrupted as his eyebrows shot up curiously.

Calm down Nick...

"Y'know for a guy that loathes foxes, you really know how to steep to their level."

Don't let him see that he's getting to you.

"And you know what?! I've had it! I've tried being respectful to you. I've been as genuine as I can be and yet you still think the absolute worst of me. Especially after you accused me of trying to steer this conversation? I gotta say you've gotta be one of the most hypocritical parents I've ever met. And believe me, I've met a lot." The tod snarled, seemingly remembering all of the customers at his orphanage that disapproved of him for adoption. Simply because of what he was.

"Nick, I just needed-"

"You say that I'm nothing but a shifty fox, yet you resort to using... What? Conniving tricks to get me to have a conversation with you? Are you serious?"

"I was just trying to get you... comfortable enough to ans-"

"Oh now you want me to be comfortable with you? After you've been holding me by my throat this whole time? After you've insulted me?" Nick targeted, feeling his rage reach an all time high. "Why the sudden interest in my familial life, huh? Are you and Mrs. Bonnie just trying to find out why I'm so dysfunctional? Are all foxes bad or is it just the way they were raised? Nature vs nurture type deal? What are you guys running low on content for the Burrows' Paper? Tell me."

"Nick. Bonnie and I… we care for you."

There was a thick pause that seeped around them, stalling their conversation in deadlock.

The fox gulped, feeling his neck tendons tighten with the undulation. "Bullshit." Nick found himself fumbling with a newfound vulgarity. "Y'know she kept telling me that I was safe here. That I. Was safe. Here. And like an idiot I almost believed her." Nick's feet began to grapevine and stumble across the uneven wooden floorboards. He knocked over a small stack of boxes and the small navy garbage bin due to his clumsiness. "I've never been safe here, I'm a moving target with the red color to match!"

"Nick, are you feeling okay?" Stu fretted at the fox's quickly deteriorating motor functions. "Take it easy… Y-You're going to hurt yourself."

"Oh I'm going to hurt myself? Haven't you taken a look at me." He outstretched his arms to direct Stu's gaze at his body and face. "I look and feel like shit. That's because of you. In a couple days, there'll be another you and then another after that. There's always another you." Nick rasped, feeling his stomach beginning to rumble and gurgle as if he were sick.

"I'm sorry, Nick." Stu apologized for the first time, cementing his empathy towards the kid and making it known.

Nick felt paralyzed at the words. He stood ramrod straight at attention, seemingly focusing on the sentence that was thrown at him. The already accumulated sweat slowly dripping down his fur began to increase pace tenfold as he began to sweat bullets originating not just from the heat.

"If you want to ask me something, then just ask it." The fox finished, his eyes narrowed at the father giving him a spluttered expression before turning back to his task at hand. "Stop tippy-toeing around it." Nick couldn't deny the upset feeling he was sensing in his stomach.

"Kid, is your mom…" Stu urged while the emotion filling his throat came spilling out in the form of an almost sad whimper. "God, I… Nick, I-I know that this isn't the time or place. And I know that you don't trust me, and you have no reason to tell me the truth. But Bonnie and I just need to know… is she taking care you?"

...

...

Truthfully, Nick didn't know how to respond. He hardly even knew just how he felt. He was offended. He felt intruded. How could someone think that she would've hurt me? A flame would grow inside of him, threatening to lash out and oxygenate only to be thwarted out by a crisp sadness. A guilt of some sort. His moist palms opened and closed around the edges of the cardboard box he was leaning on as he tightly flexed his strained hand tendons. Oddly enough, the pasteboard felt sharp on his pads as he squeezed the fiber in a half deathgrip. She was perfect. She did everything that she could've done, exhausted all of her options. All to keep me safe and fed.

How does someone even begin to put that into words.

He didn't care to answer the bunny, as he was too wrapped in emotion. His mother had been the kindest soul that he had ever met. Someone who made him feel the most 'normal' than anyone ever could. He had never felt out of place with her by his side - not even once - and now this family was insinuating that she had ever hurt him? That she ever had the capacity to hurt a fly?

His breathing labored with every gasp that filled his aching lungs. I can't tell them about her. I can't. They shouldn't have even thought about that. Why do they care so suddenly. It's disingenuous, it has to be.

"Nicholas…" Stu cooed as he stepped towards the nonresponsive tod. The smell of the aging wood and family antiques unconsciously wriggled his nose as his footsteps got closer to the fox. He approached the kit, his arm now outstretched out in an attempt to lay his hand on his bony shoulder.

Though as soon as he felt the initial contact of the bunnies hand putting partial pressure over his hoodie, Nick quickly threw his shoulder back in defense forcing the father to recoil his hand. The kits cotton covered arm flailed backwards in an emotional fit followed by an angrily meek, "Don't touch me..."

Another pause halted both of them. "I'm really sorry, Nick. You don't have to talk about it." The bunny spoke slowly at the fox in order to make sure he understood his sincerity. "I shouldn't have done this to you. Any of this, to you. With the way I've treated you so far… I'm better than that. My wife and my daughter pointed that out to me." The father sighed while the left side of his mouth twitched into an understanding half grin. "Yeah… You have every right to hate me too, kid."

Nick returned his arms along the edge of the box to support himself up, his elbows now locked out to lazily support his exhausted body. His eyebrows were furrowed so angrily and his tense neck began to slightly shake in terror making his head tremble with a strain. The fox stared down at the fibers of the box he leaned on giving it a microscopic focus, admiring the loose artifacts of fibers that were scattered loosely around the rough browned surface.

"Nicholas…" Stu commenced once again, though this time he reached out to the kit more slowly. "Nick… can you look at me." The father cooed.

After a stimulating pause, Stu had to say that he was pleasantly shocked to see the fox slowly revolve towards him. His red face was even redder with anger as his fur was doused with salty sweat. Nicks angry eyebrows and flexed jaw were only slightly discouraged from his overall heat exhausted body posture. The bunny planted his palms on his knees and leaned over to make himself square with the adolescent fox.

Nick could only stare at the penitent bunny focusing on him. How he studied him with an unwavering gaze. In an instant, it was almost as if the fox were to burst into tears at any moment, he could practically taste the tears rolling into his mouth. Or maybe that was the drops of sweat that unyieldingly rolled down his cheeks.

"You're sweating bullets… Take a break from the shed." He proposed as he stood back up straight and headed towards the entrance to the building. Nick could only watch as the hefty frame stepped through the now defined pathway away from him. "Come inside and drink some water. Hydrate yourself, Nick."

His green eyes furrowed in disagreement. He's lying. He's had enough. He's going to call the cops on me. They don't care for me. The fox turned back to the settling mess at hand, picking up right where he left off. Pulling them down, opening, sorting and restacking without hesitation.

He half expected the bunny to still be watching him. Someone definitely had to be with the raw guttural emotions that made him sick to his stomach. Taking a glance at the now dusted mirror that once mocked him, Nick quickly found the origin of that feeling.

Now he may have been imagining it this time - it was definitely hot and he had been short on fluids lately - but something was telling him otherwise. This wasn't brain damage. This wasn't a hallucination nor a stroke. It was him.

He had lost all ability to hide himself away.

"Never let them see that they get to you." The fox slurred out.

"Nick, you're gonna overexert yourself. C'mon. You've done enough for this morning." The father encouraged as he leaned in from the door.

The red reflection smiled at him. Familiar dimples had formed on his tired cheeks.

"Not bad." Nick admired himself with symmetrical dimples. "Not bad at all."

Nick forced his eyes shut. He let out a large huff before indulging himself in a composing pause.

In that instant, he went sickeningly limp and passed out on the hot wooden floor of the shed - with the faintest taste of bile building in the back of his throat.

(Published July 2019)

(DISCLAIMER: I have no idea how someone would approach a child that was suspected of abuse. I've done some necessary research for the sake of this story and I can say that it is definitely not something that I could ever try to empathize with. My heart goes out to anyone that was affected by this matter. The way the conversation was depicted in this chapter is purely fictional and is in no way a guide on how to handle this sort of communication. It definitely should be handled more delicately in a real situation. Hopefully I hope that is a little bit obvious since this is a story about a talking fox and bunny family, but I felt an explanation would be justified. That's all.)

Well, that is the first 17k worded chapter that I've ever written. Call it maturity. Call it me wanting to get out of my boring job and bring back my high school edginess and angst. Or call it my desperate need to get this story out of my head and into the minds of the readers that have been patiently asking for an update. (That's you! Thank you for inspiring me to write again.)

*On that note, I really want to know if you guys would want longer chapters like this or if you think that I should keep them 10k and less per chapter. That was something I really struggled with since I feel like the chapter flows better when the morning setting is one chapter, but on the other hand I don't want to drown you guys in exposition to the point where it feels too lengthy and is a struggle to read in one sitting. (I hope I'm not coming off as pretentious, but this is something that I would really appreciate input with.)*

Sorry, sorry and sorry for the wait on this one. I snapped my glasses while I was at work and I'm currently still waiting on my new frames. Whoopsies. Writing has been quite strenuous on me (and my eyes) since I've started a new job and I've rejoined all of my older hobbies again, but I really enjoy this. In fact, I've missed this.

I think it's funny that I think this chapter came out super late even though it's the most consistent I've been with this story since May of 2016? Haha, it sounds nitpicky but I really can't wait to put this story down in words rather than fragments of stories in my head.

Speaking of fragments, I think I've found an organic way to keep this story going. I originally intended for this to be like what, 6 or 7 chapters and be done with it? But now that I've laid some foundations and established my own foundations I found the freedom I get with these fun characters is setting up from some great storytelling. Now I'm gonna stop hyping this up just in case I end up making a pretty shitty story. I really hope I don't though. I'm sure that people won't like it (and indeed some already don't) but as long as I put out content that I'm passionate and confident about then what's the harm in finishing my story?

Also, I rewrote Nick and Stu's dialogue like 7 times just because I didn't exactly like the way it flowed. I still feel that way and will fix it the more I edit, but I just had to get this chapter out so I can move on for the time being.

Thanks for supporting and reading. It truly means a lot.

Your Friend, Monk.

(God, I need a new username)