A/N: I was thinking last night, and something came to me. Another way to write my story if you remember, Nick's Training Days. I've decided to do flashbacks of the training that Nick went through with the assistance of Judy, but the rest of the story will be taking place in the present, starting from the moment Nick walks into the training academy to the very end of his training. I've also decided to make this fanfic dramatic rather than humoristic seeing as to how I am not good at that at all, and instead I plan to just keep this in the place I'm more familiar with and more comfortable with. I'd also like to give a shout out to sur2sur such a warm hearted fellow who was kind enough to inspire me! It was most appreciated!

I'd also like to say to jrfan98 that I am very sorry to have made this probably seem like last minute thing, however, if you want I can still send you like the original story concept through PM if you want. But then again you're working on your one-shots at the moment, great job by the way!, so you probably won't have time.

This story was inspired by the fanfic "What It Takes" by Canadian Crow, which you should totally check out by the way as it is an awesome story, and the songs "Immortals" by Fallout Boy from 'Big Hero 6' soundtrack and "What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson and "Try" by P!NK...OH! And "Hall Of Fame" by The Script.

READ ON!

Nick suppressed the urge to gag as he swallowed the thick creamy substance that the luncheon staff claimed was oatmeal.

Really, really hot oatmeal.

The mashed oats slid down his throat making it feel like jello as he gave a sharp intake of breath to cool the throbbing in the lump of his throat, which only furtherly worsened the dull pain that had decidedly skyrocketed after that little poor stunt. But, on the plus side at least it kept him from making any smart remarks at his fellow comrades - or as he liked to call them, Turdraiders. He was sorry, but he wasn't sorry. He was sorry because he'd promised Judy that he wouldn't be cynical to any of his possible future co-workers. Key word: possible. He wasn't sorry for calling them what he called them. Since the moment he stepped on campus he'd been met with scrutiny, judging eyes and scowls that rivaled his smirk but he pulled through. He didn't get his philosophy of life from nothing you know.

Anyways, all the trainees were given a minimum of five minutes to eat and then it was off to practice...whatever the fuck they were going to practice on doing today. Though the vulpine had a few ideas of what that was. It was completely expected of the instructors to give the trainees a hard time. It was also expected of these instructors to give Nick the hardest time of all. However, they'd made one tiny slip up; they didn't know Nicholas Wilde. For one thing he was never one to stray away from reality and unlike Judy was never idealistic, bright eyed, or dreamy and starry eyed. Nick tried, however, to be determined and in all his cons he'd always have a little bell of a reminder ringing in his head, telling him that this was all for money; well, the same thing applied for here at the academy as he sat there spooning the last of his oatmeal down his throat before guzzling down a load of discrete skim milk, which in turn, made him gag again.

Nick hated breakfast with a passion. And to some that would be a complete surprise if you didn't know Nick Wilde. If you asked him why, he'd tell you, "Tell the academy of fucktarts that I said what up." If you asked him what he meant by that, he'd most likely give you a blank stare that rivaled a deadman staring at you - his eyes always had that type of effect on others. No but seriously, every time he walked into the luncheon he was met with all eyes staring directly at him. And when he was making his way towards the line of mammals to retrieve a plate they would all push and shove him out the way and he would end up being the last in line: last in line got a dirty plate and hot oatmeal because all the other predators took up all the good stuff.

A routine that repeated itself daily. But getting to the table was fucking easy peasy for some reason, even though he found himself talking to no one, not that he wanted to anyways. But when he got up from the table everyone went into a half silence - I say half cause they couldn't shut the fuck up about the fox walking down the aisle.

"Just ignore them, just ignore them," Nick muttered under his breath. The fox delicately stepped over the sweeping tails , trying his hardest not to step on one.

"ALRIGHT, PIP SQUEAKS BREAKFAST ENDS IN 10, 9-"

Everyone began scrambling out their seats, running around frantically as they crammed their trays into the dirty dishes basket. The sounds of plates clinking together ringed endlessly in Nick's ears as he walked calmly towards the trash bin that was twice as large as him making him stand up on his tip toes and scrape what was left of his possessed oatmeal into the bin before putting his dish in with the others before slinking off silently back to his seat.

"3, 2, 1!" The megaphone announced. The doors to the cafeteria swung open with a loud bang and everyone was standing stiff to attention with hands limp to their sides. A massive *javan tiger* walked in wearing what could only be described as what a sergeant would wear.

The feline walked slowly down the lines of trainees staring each one down with a deep scowl written on his face.

For a second, Nick thought the feline was just going to stare at them forever, and some part of him wanted to blurt out, "Take a picture of us, it'll last longer in your photo album." but he had a promise to keep and he intended to keep it, for her.

The tiger spoke in a slight country accent that was accompanied with a tilt of Australian, or British, "My name is Auro S. Williams. However you will call me Sergeant Williams all the way up to your graduation," Nick pressed his ears further down as he felt the sudden vibrations of the tiger's loud booming voice like a boombox being pressed against one of his ears turned up to the max.

"Now, I'm sure you all have splendid heroic reasons for wanting to be cops. Become part of T.U.S.K. And I'm sure some of you are even hoping to be part of FBI for reasons. Am I right?"

Most of the officers nodded their heads, some even saying 'yes sir'. Nick said absolutely nothing; he knew what was coming next, no warning whatsoever to the poor mammals as they had their eardrums blasted as the tiger roared,"WELL GOOD RIDDANCE! THIS ISN'T A DAMN EVERYDAY COP MOVIE WHERE YOUR INSIPID DREAMS COME TRUE! DO I LOOK LIKE PETER PHANT TO YOU?!"

The officers shook their heads, the smell of fear wafting through the air, some of the officers looked like they had pissed themselves even. Nick remained as cool and collected as possible. That didn't stop the sudden throbbing of his right temple however.

"I ain't gonna treat you like yer bestest friend. And don't you even THINK!, about trying to talk to me like I am. Cause let me tell y'all somin'. I will click your asses so hard your great grandchildren are gonna be born with sore asses, and I guarantee it's gonna leave a mighty fine mark on those bosoms of yours."

The officers swallowed their Adam's Apple and kept a straight face through it all; even as spit wetted their snouts and the horrid smell of which could be described as tobacco infiltrated their nostrils. Nick was just lucky to be the smallest. No spit and tobacco fumes to worry about down here, of course there was a minor set back. From what Judy had described her days of training as, she'd been ignored through the first couple of weeks but once she'd started excelling in the more complicated of stuff during training, she'd become a noticeable figure. Especially when she was almost there towards becoming Valedictorian of her class; some, mostly predator, had found it an offence against their pride while others, mainly prey, had thought of her as an idol and had come to realise that she wasn't your average carrot-farming, meak bunny. Hooves and paws down, she was probably one of the most surprising and complicated rabbit ever known to animalkind. She didn't take 'no' for an answer, never knew when to quit, was determined to prove herself even if that meant pushing herself past her limitations, and was always ready to prove another mammal wrong about bunny stereotypes.

To her, it didn't matter your species. If you had a dream and believed you're worthy of that dream coming true go for it and don't stop till you got to the finish line.

All that hard earned work had made her top of the class and adorned by all her classmates, making her feel like a star.

Unfortunately, the same thing couldn't be said for Nicholas P. Wilde. Conman of the year, to him at least, he'd been conning people of their money since twelve years old, he took selfies when he truly was to bored to give a crap about taking away people's money, and quite frankly was always somehow either winding up drunk with a one night stand in tow that inevitably never goes as planned, or crouching under a bridge in the dead of night with only his night vision and keen sense of smell to protect him from whatever urban dangers were waiting to pounce and strike a blow to a lonesome red fox in the cold of night.

Or he was sleeping in a drawer in the dark of an apartment's basement.

A pret-ty pathetic excuse of a 'I'm going to be a awesome officer and cool as fuck partner their ever was!' if his background had anything to say about it in the least. He was intelligent, and fast on his feet and could think and react physically all at the same time. He could still remember when he'd done his very first sparring match with Judy and how she'd through a slip up comment, mentioned on it ever so slightly. To this day he still didn't know if she had been burrowing encouragement into his mind or if she had been toying with him, distracting him by boosting his ego leaving him distracted for a moment but a moment that left him defenseless; what he did know though was that that bunny something fierce, and noble, loyal, determined, and down right adorable. He chuckled at how something as measly as a rabbit had somehow managed to change a fox like himself, cynical view on the urban jungle he lived in...mostly.

"Something funny?!" A voice snapped, cutting like a knife through his thoughts.

The fox blinked once. Twice. And then became aware of his surroundings and mentally cursed himself for letting himself go off in a dazed stupor. He shook his head swallowing lengthy at a lump that had involuntarily rose from the depths of his throat. He heard the sounds of snickering as a couple of his 'bunkmates' tried to conceal their giggles as they cast glances at him filled with spite and smugness. Nick tried to ignore and was tempted to call them out, since they were pretty loud; but if the javan tiger heard, he didn't care. Of course he doesn't care. The fox is SO much more important!

"WELL?!" The Sergeant snapped at him, baring his yellow-white fangs at him.

Nick jumped slightly, standing as stiff as possible causing it to look like he had flinched, which caused everyone to start snickering. The red vulpine felt his ears burning with embarrassment as he stared back into the dark amber eyes of the tiger.

"No Sergeant, nothing is funny," He said in as loud a voice as possible. That didn't seem to please the feline at all.

"Say that a bit louder please, I don't anyone heard you.."

"NOTHING'S FUNNY SERGEANT!" He spat the word sergeant out as if it was thirty year old piece of crap had gotten in his mouth. Once again, he wasn't sorry at all.

The striped feline looked like he was on the verge of saying something but held back against it and only glared deathly at the fox before standing to his full height and with a silent gesture made his way to the front of the line and began to casually walk out of the cafeteria with the others in tow, Nick at the back...as usual...

"Today, you will be training for the Sahara Square District; Scorching Sandstorm!"

Nick winced an gritted his canines together. Great, first being prejudice, then stereotypes, and a stuck up tobacco smoking teacher; and now he was gonna have to deal with scorching heat, and a sandstorm simulator.

But really, how bad can it be?

A/N:... O. ! Okay, I know I say this a lot when I say I'm gonna try to get more chapters out but I swear I am. Problem is, I'm a Youtuber and I am currently working on a two other fanfiction stories all related to Zootopia; and then I've got another fanfic I'm working on related to Alpha & Omega, and Warriors. And if you look at my profile you'll notice I have some other stories that I have neglected for a long time as you can tell from the day they were published. I'm planning to delete some of them and start all over again some other time but I thought 'naaah'. So I'm gonna probably end up deleting those, especially that Pillar of Wings one. That was a terrible decision in its wake. Nope. Not doing that again. And I still have a ton of stories that I wanna work on and publish but I've got all these babies to handle first so I can't...

Anyways, and as always, I will see YOU - in the next chapter...PEACE OUT! ^^