CHAPTER FOUR

Author Notes - Is Flame's stutter cute or annoying? I'm trying to make her adorkable. I guess it makes sense. She is the kitty counterpart to Marshall, who's probably the closest thing this show has to an introvert.

Yes, Marshall is my favourite.

Do you think it's a problem that the team consisting mostly of males never fails, while the female-dominant team never succeeds? I don't, so whatever.

CHAPTER FOUR - KITTY FEVER

Crumble stood right by the water, just out of reach of the tide. She waited for any scrap of orange and green. Flame was at the beach too, hiding her head in a leftover bucket.

'D-d-do you see them?'

Crumble scanned the water, and spotted the dark brown kitty popping out of the water, carrying a grey kitten.

The yellow-clad kitten smiled. 'I see them! I see them!'

Flame crawled out from the bucket. Drought, her head sticking out of the water, approached the shore. Trash lay on her back, just barely above the surface.

'I got her!' Drought said as she put her paws on the ground, emerging from the sea. 'But she is not okay.'

She knelt down and carefully rolled the grey kitten off her back and onto the soft dry sand. The cat who would normally get back on her feet in moments instead lay there, moaning. She shivered from the dripping water.

'Cwumby... I dod feel good...'

Crumble gave her a reassuring smile. 'Oh, you'll be fine. You've swum in cold water plenty of times be-'

She wanted to gently stroke the small fluffy head, but was greeted only with searing heat.

'Oh my gosh, she's burning up!'

Flame squeaked, and dove back into her bucket. She held her head down, whining. Every time anything went right for them, something going dreadfully wrong always seemed to follow.

'Of course.' Drought said, her body going tense. 'I should've known. She's got a terrible fever.'

'H-help her, Drought! Y-You're really good with this health stuff.'

The aquatic kitty lay down, getting a good look at Trash. The feverish cat coughed, and sniffed. She wouldn't stop shivering. Drought felt her forehead, her eyes widening.

'Oh that is bad. It's never gotten this bad before. My guess is that she was coming down with a cold before her temperature got too high. No doubt the walking and freezing water did not help.'

Crumble had to look away. She saw her crew as her little brother and sisters, and the sight of the youngest one collapsed on the ground, shivering...

'You have to help her. You always know what to do.'

Drought sighed. 'It's the middle of the night, we're who knows how far away from home, and I've never seen a case this bad.'

Flame walked over, wanting to believe it wasn't really happening.

'S-so, you can't help her?'

Drought turned away from her crew, to look into the distance. Her attention settled onto the tall tower by the cliff, surrounded by dog houses.

'Crumble, scoop her up into your shovel.' She said.

'What?'

'Scoop her up.'

'Uh, okay. Mrow-mrow, shovel!'

Crumble did as she was told, lifting up Trash into the yellow shovel on her back. The sickly kitty winced.

'Now what?'

'Now we have to take her to the Paw Patrol.'

The others were stunned into silence, something Drought was expecting. She could almost hear Thief complaining at her.

'I'm sorry, you want us to go to the dogs? There's no way we're dealing with them.' Crumble said.

'Y-yeah. What if they call up our owner?' Flame added.

As if responding to them, Trash giggled weakly. She wasn't laughing at anything, except for maybe her lightheadedness.

'Hehe... look at the pwetty fishies...'

Drought cringed. 'Alright. You wanna leave our little sister to die because you can't suck up your pride? Fine. I'll let Thief know.'

Crumble sighed. 'If Thief were here, she'd never let us get near those dogs. Okay. We'll do it.'


Crash drifted down, circling around the tower and landing on the grass. He put his wings away, and pranced across the ground. His sights were settled on the house containing the cockapoo.

Just do it, Crash. She might reject you, or hate you, or love you. You'll never know unless you try it. Ugh, sounds like I'm talking about food.

He stopped as the grass did. Something stopped him from taking the next step, but he had no clue what it was. The flying pup slept, unaware of his presence, smiling.

I can't believe it. I have to share a cave with five girls, but each of them get their own house... I wonder how she feels about being the only girl?

He puffed his chest out, and ran. He didn't care about anything else, shoving any fear to the back of his mind so he could just run.

She's right there. Just a little bit more...

He stopped. He stood right in front of the sleeping dog. Now, regrets absolutely flooded his mind.

Bad idea. Regrets! Regrets! This can only end bad for me. She'll hate this!

He gulped.

'Mrow?'

No response.

'Mrow?'

He shuddered. The cockapoo slowly opened her eyes, yawned, then awoke with a start when she saw the fluffy kitten looking straight at her.

'You're... you're the kitty from before.' Her eyes narrowed. 'What are you doing here?'

Aw, he should've known. There was no way she wouldn't be suspicious over his presence. It wasn't like he could blame her either. The only times she ever saw him or the girls were when they were causing trouble. Or required saving.

'Where's the rest of your crew?' She asked, curious, not suspicious like he expected.

He shrugged. The girls had been in his mind, but he didn't really think about what they were doing. Well, he at least knew that Thief wasn't going out to save him.

'Are you lost?'

He shook his head. Before he could communicate with her properly, it had to do.

'Then, what are you doing out here?'

To prove I'm not a failure. To show I can do it. To explain to you I'm a boy. To defeat insecurities. To... to meet you.

All the reasons in his head, and he had no way of expressing them.

Skye seemed so much more relaxed, which made sense considering how late it was. Still, there was no mistaking that friendly face that helped him that faithful day.

Thus, his decision was made.

His mind shut down for a moment, his movement fuelled without thoughts. He was safe from the cold, settling deep into the warm, relaxing fur. Any stress he felt drained away, replaced by that feeling you get when you sit down at the Christmas fire.

When his mind came back, he couldn't believe it, but he didn't want to leave.

'I don't know why you're here, but you're not causing any trouble. You can stay.'

She lowered her head, and the similar-looking pets fell to sleep.


The three girls, with the sickly kitten in tow, ran up the hill. Led by Drought, they circled around until they came across the Dalmatian, sleeping in the red house.

'There he is.' Drought said. 'Marshall typically works as firefighter, but he has ambulance duties as well. He's just who we need.'

'B-But... he's asleep.' Flame said.

'So? He'll wake up for an emergency.'

Crumble still didn't feel right. She couldn't remember the last time they went directly to the dogs, if they ever did at all, at most calling them up.

Trash seemed to be the only one who actually did get close and directly 'ask' for help once, during the incident with the bears. None of them got to see that though, being forced to stay at the lair, but they all believed Trash would do that.

The grey kitten began another giggling fit, swatting at invisible butterflies. 'Pweddy budderflies...'

Now that the digging kitten thought about it, if she or any of the other crew members - even Thief - had come down with a terrible fever, Trash would consider going to the dogs for help almost immediately.

'Alright then. I'll go ask him. But first; do you want the others to know?'

'If possible, no. We want to make as little of a scene as possible.'

Crumble took a deep breath, and approached the sleeping firefighter. She felt uncomfortable, going out of her way to 'talk' to the ones who had to save her...

'Heeey Cwumby... dotcha lobe all da budderflies?'

... but it was for Trash.

'Meow?'

He didn't even move. The temptation to bite him awake was strong, but the risk of waking more pups than was necessary was too high.

'Meow!'

The dalmatian awoke with a start...

*BONK*

'Oof!'

... hitting his head as he did.

Flame gasped, and hid behind Drought for protection. The dog rubbed his head, and soon noticed the kitty standing in front of him.

'Another kitten? What are you doing here?'

Crumble couldn't help thinking that he was assuming she was there to cause trouble. She lowered Trash down onto the ground between them.

'He's sick?'

She, ya mutt! She!

The dog peered down, likely suspicious that she was faking it to create an opportunity to wreck havoc. One second of putting his paw on her forehead, however, proved to him she was not faking.

'Oh wow... his temperature is high! Dangerously high! I have to tell Ry-'

'No!'

They stared at each other. Somehow, he picked up just what she wanted, and went deeper into his house. He returned in his red ambulance gear, and picked up the kitty by the 'kitty pack' on her back. She was placed on a small, soft cushion.

Drought stepped closer, and Flame followed her for security. The three kittens sat in silence, letting the dog do his thing.

'Thermometer!'

On cue, the titular object popped out from his pup pack. Upon seeing the red stick, Trash tensed. She stood up, turned around, and gave him his worst view in years, giggling.

Drought sighed. 'Come on Trash. Don't do that now. Or ever.'

'Hey!' The dalmatian yelled, barely quiet enough to wake up no-one. 'You need to be-'

He realised something, something major, while he was being gifted the absolutely horrid view. Whether the kitten wanted to or not, she was revealing quite the game-changer.

'You're a girl?'

Drought's eyes widened, and she hit her forehead very, very hard. Flame just smiled; finally, someone knew the correct sex of at least one of them, even if it had to be revealed in the worst way possible.

'And... you haven't been spayed yet.'

The jaws of all three kittens dropped. Considering Trash's origins, it really wasn't a surprise. Only Crumble and Crash went through that procedure.

'You have to cooperate if you want to feel better. I need to know your temperature. If it's too high, I'll have to tell Ryder. I'd hate to do it, but my thermometer can go in more places than just mouths.'

In spite of having no clue what 'spayed' meant, Trash knew exactly what he was insinuating. She spun herself around, and opened her mouth wide. The red liquid inside rose fast.

'A hundred and four degrees? It's not dangerous yet, but if we don't get it down it will be.'

The kittens watched him dip a small cloth into the closest source of water - his water bowl - and lay it across her forehead.

'I-I'm confused.' Flame said. 'W-Wouldn't the cold water help her fever?'

Drought shook her head. 'Cooling the body down can help as long as it isn't too cold. I was in that water and it was icy.'

Crumble observed the dog more intensely, not because she wanted to learn anything, but the very actions surprised her.

It wasn't often the dogs got to see them, and whenever they did, it always spelt trouble for everyone involved. Whether it was leaving the recycling pup stranded on an island, or sending their ferris wheel running amok, the interactions were never really good.

The dalmatian, in particular, almost became a victim to them when they surrounded him after he tried to get that kung-fu scroll back. He may have had the size advantage, but they had power in numbers... until the other dogs arrived and they fled like dirty cowards.

Yet, after all of that, Crumble watched the dalmatian - in the middle of the night, no less - go out of his way to help one of them out in a time of need, with no hesitation.

I can't believe it. She thought. Why is he helping her? With all the trouble we've caused him and his friends, he'd be better off leaving her to die.


A small sound awoke Crash. He recognised the sound of Crumble, meowing as she did whenever she forced her younger crew mates awake. He stood up, and looked around.

'Crumble?'

He heard another voice, the one belonging to the firefighting dog, and he ran outside the pink dog house and behind the others.

'Kitty? Where are you going?'

The light brown kitten gasped and smiled upon seeing the sight of three familiar cats. He galloped over to them, happier than he felt like he should've been.

'Crash!'

'It's you!'

'I-I can't believe we found you!'

Flame pounced and pinned him to the ground, rubbing her head against him and purring. He rolled his eyes and accepted his fate. Crumble pranced over and joined in on the cuddling, while Drought just shook her head with a grin.

'Hey girls.'

'W-We were coming over to rescue you from these dogs.' Flame said. 'B-But...'

'Rescue me? 'But' what?'

Drought motioned to him, towards the red dog house. He peered past the dalmatian, and saw the grey kitty lapping water out of a red oversized bowl.

'Oh no, Trash! Is she okay?'

'Calm down, she's fine.' Drought said. 'Marshall knows what he's doing.'

Trash, still a bit hazy, dipped her paws into the water and splashed about. Crash sighed in relief.

'The real question is - what are you doing here?' Drought asked.

That was a question he was hoping his crew wouldn't ask him. He didn't know how the heck to answer it.

'Well, you see...'

'There you are kitty! ... What are you doing up, Marshall?'

The female kittens scattered, Flame hiding behind Drought once again. Skye moved her attention to the dalmatian.

'I had an emergency. This little kitty was coming down with a terrible fever.'

'Awww, poor kitty!'

This sound of worry confused Crash. He couldn't understand why she would be so sympathetic towards a troublemaker. Then again, it's hard to not feel bad for a little kitten in trouble.

'But she got here quick and she's recovering really well!'

'Aw, that's good... she?'

Crash grinned; someone knew!

'I, uh, made an interesting discovery. By accident.'

He laughed nervously, only now realising how awkward the aforementioned situation was.

'Oh, okay... do you think we were wrong about the others too?'

'I-I don't want to check.'

While Marshall checked on the kitty's face, voicing his shock for the big scratch across her cheek, Drought looked Crash in the eye.

'Don't think you could avoid the question. You came out here for a reason.'

He sighed, and glanced at Skye.

'She's the reason.'

To help her with her decision making, the diving kitty looked over to Trash. The grey kitty still lacked energy in her minimalistic moments and shivered.

Marshall applied a bandage against the cut. 'Don't be afraid of leaving any water for me. You need a lot.'

Trash nodded, lapped up a mouthful of water, then promptly sneezed on it. Marshall cringed.

'Yeah... you can have all of it.'

Drought pondered her decision, but the kitty's state made the answer obvious.

'Fine. I don't know your deal, but Trash is clearly not healthy enough to head all the way home, especially after we crashed the kitty carrier.'

'You did what?'

'Sooo, we'll stay the night, but if Trash recovers in the morning we'll be leaving before any of these dogs wake up.'

After a few seconds, he nodded.

'Good. We'll sort this all out in the morning.'

Author Notes - I find it incredibly important to not demonise the Paw Patrol. Stories starring the bad guys typically make this mistake. It would bring down their character, and utterly ruin the entire point of Crash's arc.

I do not apologise for the entire 'Trash's real sex reveal' scene. I use the word 'sex' specifically instead of 'gender' because I fear that if I don't, the story will suddenly be filled with allegories to current real world issues that we absolutely do not need.

Originally, the kittens were to have practically no camaraderie at all, more-or-less disliking each other (with the exception of Trash, both ways). I think it's better if they do love each other, with Thief being the only one who doesn't.