Chase stood at the casket, looking down at his love for the last time, blaming himself for what had happened to her. "She shouldn't have been there. I should've told her to stay at the station." He shed another tear, joining the other hundred that had fallen down his face that day and the thousand that he'd cried the past two nights. Losing someone is never easy, especially when it's your soon to be mate.
Skye was laying there, looking peaceful as she had always to look when she was alive. Granted, her and Scott never really saw eye to eye on much of anything, but they worked pretty good as a team. Chase loved her for that. Her ability to get past differences and do the job right. Her almost infinite patience with people, criminal or otherwise. Her laugh, her smile, everything. Now, all that was left was her laying there, taken by death, and Chase still alive, wrought with guilt that would never leave. Regretting ever taking her on the job that day. Regretting all the times he had ignored her when she tried to talk with him, help him when a case hit him personally, try and persuade him to think things out rationally when he was angry. Regretting not being able to say goodbye before she had died.
48 hours earlier
Chase walked to the armory where Ryder's older brother the former SEAL team, now turned SWAT officers, were at. Skye was at his side, already hearing the Scotsman and the what sounded to be the female Mexican getting into it again. "Great," she sighed, "Ramirez is pissed again. Wonder what Scott did this time." Chase laughed at her comment, though not surprised that the two were fighting again. This was a daily thing, where one would some how piss off the other, whether it was about the way the guns were set up or which football team was the best. The two acted like they were brother and sister half of the time.
As it turned out, it was neither. Now, Bravo 6, as they were called in the Navy world, were some of the best SEALs the Navy had had, at least according to other teams. Scott had lived here since he was born, and had helped Ryder put the PAW Patrol together. He was definetly the biggest contributer they had had. Now, after about 5 years of the PAW Patrol being together, Goodway, thank the gods, was removed, being replaced be Ryder himself. He ended up building a police station, hospital, and multiple other facilities around town, since then previous dumbass had spent it on a freaking golden chicken. Awesome way to spend money, Scott had stated sarcastically. Every one agreed. Now, Ryder clearly knew what he was doing. He disbanded the PAW Patrol, and despite being sad about it, he put one of the pups at then head of each one.
So naturally, Chase became police chief, Marshall was the lead doctor at the hospital, Zuma had taken over the Beach Tower had basically became a miniature version of the Coast Guard with Captain Turbot's help. Rubble was head of construction, and worked pretty closely with Rocky, who manned the Recycling plant when he wasn't working with the bulldog. The mix breed also had a tendency to visit Barkingberg a whole hell of a lot, but no one really knew what he did there, though they did have their theory's. Everest was helping Marshall at the hospital, acting as second in command, technically, amoung other things. When winter hit, the husky had her own little team to aid with mountain rescues. Finally, Skye had joined Chase at the police station, and Bravo 6 became SWAT.
The pair walked in on the former elite soilders making sure their gear was good for the 8th time that day. Guess it was force of habit. Chase didn't question it, as he had the same habit. The two in question weren't actually arguing, but instead lobbing insults as they arm wrestled, with the rest of the squad laughing at the two and watching.
Chase shook his head, and was about to speak up when some more juicier insults came. "Your weak for someone who comes to have barbarian blood. What, were your ancestors all seamstresses?" Yes, Scott, being Scottish, claimed to have barbarian blood in him. Which was true, as he showed quiet clearly with Ladybird. She had almost killed Rubble, and unfortunately for her Scott got to her first. The scene got pretty violent pretty quick and the Ladybird almost didn't make it out, if it weren't for the quick response of the entire team, she would've been dead and the body well hidden.
Scott laughed. "Says the Mexican who took the biggest dump in her pants after eating her grandma's enchiladas. Come on, I barely tasted the spice that you claim nearly burnt your tounge. Perhaps someone's getting soft.." Everyone in the room winced. That was bound to get the shorter Mexican women riled up. She pushed back. "Well, at least I don't wet the bed when I go to sleep." Again, everyone winced. Now, this only happened when the man drank like there was no tomorrow, so thankfully he only drank that much once every few months. He then literally let out a war cry, slammed Ramirez's hand into the table, and stood up. "Says the female who just got her butt kicked for the fiftieth time in a row this week." He shook his head. "Pathetic."
Chase and Skye laughed, alerting the SWAT officers. Scott looked over. "Evening, chief."
"Evening, Scotty. Having fun?"
Scott shrugged. "Guess you can say that." He grinned at Ramirez, getting the bird in the process.
"Well, I was planning on going over to the bar later. Y'all in or no?" A chorus of "Hell yeah" gave him his answer. Suddenly, the PA cut on and one of the callers from the main 911 station spoke. "We need a SWAT team and paramedics at Main Street. Getting reports of a possible hostage situation. Multiple officers injured. Again, possible hostage situation."
Scott groaned. "Damnit, guess the bar's not happening now." Skye laughed at him. "As if you need to be drinking." She got flipped off as a response. Chase laughed and shook his head. He then ran over to his locker and started to get his vest on. The former SEALs had their Kevlar on long before Chase had his.
Now, there was a small issue. Normally, Skye would be in her chopper in a case like this, or a car chase. However, one of the blades broke and the engine had been shot through with .50 cal. Crime had had a bit of a spike recently. So that was down at the moment. So, for the time being, she was on the ground with Chase. He had protested at first, but the cockapoo's insistence had eventually won. He felt a lot less worried with her in the air, but there was really nothing he could do until Rocky or Ramirez fixed it. And the gods know Rocky wasn't readily available half the time and the other one was exhausted most days after work. So there was a bit of a delay getting it fixed.
Twenty minutes later and the big SWAT truck, nicknamed "Black Betty" by the whole department, rolled up along with Chase's Ford Raptor. Modified, of course. Multiple other officers were already there, and so was Marshall and Everest. The newest reinforcements hopped out of their respective vehicles and rushed over. "Sitrep. What do we got?" Scott asked the nearest officer. "Any updates?"
The officer nodded. "Got three confirmed hostages inside, counted five men, armed with AKs. One looks to be injured." The building in question was 's restraunt, though Porter himself had went out before it got taken over. Currently, he was yelling, "He's still in there," and trying to get past the officers. Chase immediately knew he ment Alex. "Scotty, Alex is in there." The SWAT officers faces darkened. They all liked Alex, and protected him like a little brother. The kid had said he had wanted to be one of them one day, which wasn't surprising as he was easily impressed. But still, the SEAL's took a liking too him. "Bastards." Andrew muttered. This just got bad for the men inside.
"Alright, listen up." Chase called out. "We got three comfirmed hostages, and five men inside. One of them is Alex Porter. Here's how this is gonna go." He pointed at Scott. "Scott, Ramirez, your with me and Skye. Jerome, Andrew, Jones, breach in the back. Try and take them by surprise. Everyone else, keep the crowd back as far as you can. Let's roll!"
"OORAH!"
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The team moved quickly, the windows of the restraunt having been shuttered earlier. They took up their respective positions, and Chase radioed Andrew, confirming that they were ready. He nodded at Scott, who motioned toward his flashbangs on his chest. Safe, and gives them an edge. The chief nodded.
With the speed of a lightning bolt, Ramirez opened the door enough for the explosives expert to throw in his flashbang. If this had been a non hostage situation, he would've risked throwing in a frag or something that could've killed some of them. The flashbang went off, then the order came.
"Get inside!"
The back and front doors burst open simultaneously, and the shouts of the officers mixed with the sounds of confused, panicked yelling. Shots started ringing out, the hostage holders desperately trying to shot whatever the hell it was that just came in. They appeared to be Mexican, or perhaps Central American, but it didn't matter to the department who they were. Two were cut down, and the remaining three retreated into the kitchen, where they had the hostages bonded.
What happened next happened in slow motion to Chase. He saw one of the hostiles lift his AK at Alex, when Skye ran past him, Glock raised and her yelling at the guy to put the gun down. "They should've known they were outgunned. They should've surrendered." That was the thought that had ran through Chase's mind after the fact. He heard the distinct accented voice of Scott yell, "Skye!" He heard a single shot fire, and saw the cockapoo fall.
The SWAT team immedietly opened fire on the rest, Scott rushing forward and knocking down the one who had killed Skye, knife swiftly going to the killers throat. Pinned under the very much pissed SWAT leader, he surrendered, muttering something in Spanish. Half a second later, he got a swift punch to the face.
Chase, on the other hand, had thrown his gun down and rushed toward Skye's limp body. Crying, he tried to shake her awake, telling her to wake up, trying to convince himself that this wasn't happening. He heard every SWAT member yell for Marshall and Everest, but by then, it was too late.
Skye died that night, and Chase wasn't able to handle it, get rid of the guilt, the what ifs, not alone. No one was able to get to him, talk to him. All except one certain pup.
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Guten tag, everyone. Scotty here. Yes, I wrote a new story starter. No, I'm not back permanently, and yes, I will still be doing Welcome Home. Atlas, if you read this, kindly delete your side of it. I hope you guys will like this, it is inspired by one of the favorite songs "End of a Heartache" by Killswitch Engage. If y'all do have any comment, corrections, or things I can improve on, please tell me through a review or PM. Again, I'm not back permanently.
Until next time, the Slayer be slaying.
Also, last thing. I'll set up a poll, but what ship should this be? I was thinking either Chase X Ella or a Chase x Zuma fic. Thoughts?