Well, look who's back! Chapter 2 took some time because I didn't really have time to write during the holidays and then school messed up my plans with the end of first semester. I'll try and post a chapter every month or so, but don't count on it being that way.
The drive could have lasted seconds or hours, but to Storm, time was something that didn't matter at the moment. As she drove, admittedly rather haphazardly, memories of her and Chase and their siblings playing, fighting, arguing, and training flew through her mind.
"Storm, we're here." she glanced up sharply to find Zuma standing next to her, looking worried. "You okay?"
"I - yeah, I'm fine. Just...lost in thought." Storm said quickly, instinctively raising her mental barriers.
"Didn't look like you were just lost in thought." Zuma countered but he didn't press the issue.
Storm hated the fact that yes, he was right and yes, she was scared, yes she was helpless, yes she didn't know what to do because it wasn't right, the fact that Chase wasn't fine, wasn't okay like he always insisted he was, wasn't standing next to her with his head held high and ears pricked and eyes bright. Everything just felt so wrong and yet at the same time incredibly refreshing simply because it was a scenario that Storm had never dealt with before.
She led the way into the building, internally wincing at how many times she had walked the halls, talking to men, worrying about her siblings, those years when she was considered "too young" to be with her parents after a particularly rough training session or deployment.
Skye looked wary of the unfamiliar faces and smells and rooms and to be honest, Storm couldn't blame her. It was always startling to walk in and the first time was when she would naturally be on her guard.
On the other hand, Zuma's steps were confident, if slightly halting because he didn't want to see the men he abandoned when he left to recover from his own injuries and memories.
They reached the room that Chase was in and Storm took a deep breath before opening the door.
"Hey, I know! We can make Chase a welcome home sign and throw him a party and the whole town can get involved!" Rubble yelped eagerly.
Above his head, Zuma and Rocky exchanged skeptical glances.
"I don't know about going that far," Everest said slowly. "Chase isn't really one for parties and lots of people."
The pups were gathered in front of the Lookout, trying to be productive and deciding what they wanted to do for Chase when he came home in a week. So far, it had only served to make the pups shoot down each others' ideas. Even laid-back Zuma was finding it hard to not be annoyed by the influx of ideas that he knew Chase wouldn't like and he had a feeling that Storm, who was even more Type-A than a majority of them combined, was more than frustrated.
"Look, I've said this multiple times, Chase doesn't want any parties, celebrations, or anything of the sort. He just wants to focus on getting better so he can go back out in the field and be productive." Storm said tiredly, her ears, normally standing tall and erect, drooping with the heat and exhaustion.
"At least one sign? A small banner hanging in the Lookout? We don't have to get the town involved, just us." Skye pleaded, not exactly sure about Rubble's plan, but she didn't want to see another one of his plans sent down the drain.
Warily, Storm nodded. "I - I guess we could do something like that. Just remember, not too flashy, and don't shove it in his face when he comes back."
Rubble let out a cheer and ran off to find art supplies and a piece of paper. The other pups exchanged cautious glances, slight smiles at Rubble's enthusiasm vanished.
Chase was coming home today. Chase was coming home today.
Those five words made Rocky's heart pound and his emotions warred between worry and excitement. Worry because he knew how much pressure Chase put on himself to do and be his best, no matter the circumstances. Excitement because he hadn't seen his friend in months other than a few short visits at the hospital where he knew Chase never felt safe and therefore would never disclose any information as to how he felt or what he had been thinking about. All in all, it was a very tiring crisscross of emotions that the mixed-breed really didn't want to deal with at the moment.
He was saved from further deliberation of his emotions by Storm's vehicle cruising into the driveway.
"He's here!" Rubble tore down the driveway to meet Storm's vehicle.
Zuma, Everest, and Rocky followed at a more leisurely pace, knowing how much Chase didn't prefer others crowding into his personal space. Skye and Marshall hung back, wary of where they stood on Chase's friend list. Tracker would video-call later to check in.
Chase leapt down from Storm's vehicle and stumbled slightly, his shoulder still not quite accustomed to the pressure of a jump. Rocky steadied him with gentle pressure on his side, careful not to jostle his shoulder too much.
"How do you feel?" Marshall asked quickly, circling Chase with a wary eye.
"Fine." Chase's answer was curt and Marshall backed off, knowing when he was rebuffed.
"I'm going to rest. The pain meds are making me dizzy." Chase murmured, limping past them and slipping into his puphouse. The door shut behind him.
"Dizzy?" Everest frowned. "He didn't say anything at the hospital when they started giving him the medication."
"It's probably from the drive. Pain meds and potholes are never a good mix." Zuma observed, who despite his own words looked worried. "Haven't you felt that before?"
"Uh no, not really. But the last time I was on pain medication, it was a pretty light dose." Everest replied.
"I have." Zuma said grimly, entirely unlike his typical ease and confidence. "It wasn't pretty."
The conversation quieted, but Zuma didn't elaborate and no one forced him to.
Silence reigned as pups slumbered deep into the morning and Chase shook his head fondly as he padded into the Lookout, years of habit and practice leading him to where he stepped so that he didn't wake up the more alert members of the team. Some things never did change.
As he debated waking up the team for early morning drills or not, he was distracted by a fresh throb of pain in his shoulder. Drills can wait. Chase knew not to ignore fresh pain, years of experience told him it would only increase the amount of time he spent resting.
"You doing okay?" Chase was startled by the sound of someone talking behind him, but when he turned around, he just saw Storm.
"Yeah. Doing a little better."
"That's good."
Their conversation was cut off by the sound of the Lookout doors sliding open with a whoosh.
"Chase! Did you see the sign?" Rubble asked eagerly.
"Sign?" Chase blinked. "Oh, yeah. I did." he vaguely remembered seeing a sign hanging inside the Lookout when he had come in.
"Do you like it?" Skye inquired.
"Mhm." Chase simply replied with a noncommittal hum of approval.
Rubble's face fell.
"You shouldn't do what I think you're going to do." Zuma said dryly as he watched Chase consider the training course.
"What gave it away?" Chase's tone was light, but there was an underlying current of tension that Zuma caught in his voice.
"The way you were giving it the classic death stare." Rocky jested, coming to stand beside Zuma, the two of them fifteen paces behind their friend.
"What do I do?" Chase asked softly, and neither Rocky nor Zuma knew whether he was talking to them or himself.
"What do you mean 'what do I do'?" Rocky wondered.
"I'm considering the possibilities. If my shoulder heals, then I'm on missions again with all of you. If it doesn't heal…" he trailed off, deep in thought.
And that is where I leave this story until next time. Constructive criticism, thoughts, and feedback is welcome and accepted :)
-Mafiapartner2
