Hey all, DLW here, and I thought it was about high time for something new and interesting. A take on the five stages of grief, more info at the bottom. Thank you to all my readers follows, fav's and reviews and for your feedback it makes writing all the more fun. Disclaimer: Zootopia and its characters are copyright Disney. (I own none of the characters in the story aside from the O/C's.).
Denial
'It didn't happen.' The renard thought, staring intently at the green wallpaper that ran to the ceiling. Its subtle olive tint, a complement to his own green irises, and a stark contrast to his red and cream fur. Even the decorative paw print pattern that scattered every which way - up and down, to and fro in a lighter tone - and the small wall of furnished brick were a testament to how perfect this place matched with him. It was where he belonged, where he was always welcome; his home and safe-haven.
With an appreciative smile, he gently nuzzled his head into the pillow and willed his eyes shut. Behind closed lids, all was well for Nicholas Wilde. The steady and even rise and fall of his chest made it easy for him to know that nothing had happened, he was completely happy. The world - or at least his world - was... perfect. He lacked nothing, he had everything right where he wanted it. Even for himself, the apartment was everything he had hoped for and more.
It was a cozy little alcove in the heart of Downtown Zootopia. It was neither larger than life or smaller than his goals. The little radiator beside him provided him with ample warmth and brought a welcoming grin to his wearied muzzle. The floor was as smooth and noiseless as his neighbors. There was a desk just opposite him that carried little 'Nick' knacks and various notes of times past and present. Even the microwave he had was more than enough to get him through most days. It was an easy going life, the life he wanted since the beginning.
He let loose a contented sigh for the about the umpteenth time that morning, or was it evening? Night maybe? It didn't truly matter to him at what time it was, he was happy to be where he was there and now. Nary a glimmer of the light that cascaded through the window bothered him in the least, be it silver or gold, shining or dim. Either way, he was too relaxed at the tranquility of his solitude to consider.
Though many - friend and family - had supported him in all of his twists and turns through life, he could not have been happier; his life was great, everything organized and falling in place neatly. A casual job, he could afford what he wanted, he could go anywhere he needed, he had the perfect partner-
As if pained and haunted by some phantom enigma or memory, the fox weakly opened his eyes.
Though immediately met with the scarlet fur of his muzzle and the evergreen wall, so much colour flooded his vision; vibrant hues and striking undertones, a picturesque collage of pastels under one roof that could make any artists dream become a vision in an instant. A simple glimpse of the brilliant silver-grey of the pillow and strip of white on the blanket he slumbered upon brought about vivid images of the best parts of his peculiar life.
A warm smile curled on his muzzle, a soft chuckle escaped him. His head tilted to soak in more of vast riches of his environment, peaceful and tranquil as his rest. The instant he so happily did so, he regretted it. His genuine smile was torn away, and shivers - despite the warmth of the room - ran circuits across his spine.
For the moment that one colour had been caught in the corner of his eye, everything seemed to stop. The gears that so casually turned in his mind about all pleasantries in life began rewinding to foreign memories. His focus never wavered from the distant apparel, forever embedded in his mind, in his senses, in his life; the solid scheme of the wheel that had changed him forever-
-Blue.
His mind raced as the room began to become dark, shadows began to encroach upon his abode. Although, it was day right? Or was it night? Then again... how were there shadows at all? How could there be anything darkened where he was if everything was perfect? Nothing happened. Everything was fine... wasn't it?
'Nick, don't...' He heard, somewhere in the recesses of his mind. His ears perked up as to hone in on the voice, but its holder was nowhere to be seen.
The fox didn't know how long he had stared at the suit saluting somberly on the lonely hanger. He didn't realize he had begun to sit up until a sharp pain in his ankle forced him to lurch forward and soothe it, a reminder of troubles. Grasping at a thin sheet of gauze that comforted him, he claws gently ruffled against the material. Even now as he focused solely on his dilemma of an injury, more of that colour entered his field of view-
-Blue.
It had been the scheme of the blanket he rested on. Each fiber made him tremble to his core. His memories began to come back at him at full force.
The joy he felt unbidden and unbroken as the brightest smile he had ever known sat across from him, then shouting amidst what was once a peaceful day. A clang of metal, labored breaths and blank stares. Flashes of red and the stain on his shirt and paws.
A sharp breath was forced out of him, bringing him back to his senses. He shook himself of the chill that crept upon him, accidentally taking in more of the cramped space around him. For just across the way, next to the small table, sat a dull grey set of crutches.
'I'm right here with you-' The voice rang out, formless as it was faint.
He swallowed lightly, leaning back and idly scratching at his itching ankle. Was it all a dream? How could it have happened? It was impossible... wasn't it? Zootopia was a utopia, and utopia meant Paradise!
Laying his head on the pillow once more - if only for a few minutes - he sighed. He'd have more time to think later when he fully stirred. 'No, I'm fine,' he thought, shifting into a more comforting position on the bed. Had it not been for the slightest of itches in his leg, everything would be perfect. "Everything's...fine."
Hello there, you've reached the end notes! I hope you're all enjoying this story, and I wonder if anyone gets the analogies and metaphores with only four chapters remaining. I can't give any spoilers, but would love feedback.
Nick n' Finnick, will be updated soon (in the next week or so), Predation soon afer and also ZPD: Zootopia Poltergeist Detainment (so much for Halloween theme). And I'm terribly sorry for anyone that was looking forward to updates to these, but I had this and another story to work on. And I hope you get a chance to read this and the other stories at your leisure. All can be found here as well:
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users/DancingLunarWolves/works
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Till Next Time
-DLW