AN: I am not dead. I've been busy with work the past two months and I only managed to finally get some free time to write. I apologize for how long its taken to get an update in, but here I am. Besides this I plan on updating my Gumball fic and then working on Partners Under Fire. Yes, I am still keeping up with the show. Let's get to it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol

It should have been him. He should have died, not Marshall or Skye. They were in love. They were good pups. They had a whole life ahead of him. He was a jealous murderer who led his closest friends to their doom. All because of a stupid monkey's dead paw. Unlike last time, he didn't leave his pup house for anything. Ryder had to force his food and water into the pup house as Chase spent his time crying. He didn't care about his well-being, he was already broken enough as it was. All he could see was Skye's blissful smile as she swung side to side on the tree branch.

It had been days since then. He didn't know what happened to the others nor did he care. He didn't think about the funeral or the wake or the aftermath. He just wanted to lay there, suffer his guilt, and slowly wait to die.

The monkey's paw was there by the corner, three of its five fingers folded, as it mocked him just by sitting there. He had tried to tear it apart, set it on fire, and even threw it away again and again. But each time he did it just reappeared without him noticing.

He hated it. And he was really starting to hate magic.

It still had two thumbs ready to fold, waiting to be used. But that's what you want isn't it? You want me to use you. You want me to make others suffer. You want me to suffer, is that it? Well, I'm not gonna! You hear me! I'm not gonna. I'll…I'll…

There was only one way out. End it. Finish it all. Take his own life. Let the peaceful embrace of death free him from this curse. It didn't matter who was hurt anymore, he ruined his family beyond repair. What was one more death. So why aren't I doing it?

He had been telling himself this for days. All it would take was one simple slip off the cliff. One swipe of a knife across his throat. Yet he still hesitated. Coward… coward…

There was a knock on his pup house door. Chase ignored it as he just lay there staring at the wall hoping they would just go away. It still continued as Chase grumbled and tired to cover his ears with his paws. "Go away." The knocking continued. "I said go away!"

It stopped but then the door opened much to Chase's annoyance as he slowly turned around and saw Rocky staring at him with narrowed eyes. "I half expected to see you dead in here."

"Sorry to disappoint. Leave and maybe you'll get your wish in a few days," grumbled Chase, turn to his side.

"… you're acting pathetic," Rocky muttered shaking his head as he sat down sighing. "You missed the funeral."

"I didn't want to go," muttered Chase.

"She was your friend, Chase."

"And yet I couldn't save her. I can't save anyone."

Rocky muttered something under his breath, but Chase didn't bother trying to listen in. "Look… I get it… really, I do." Chase slowly turned around to face him. "You think you're the only one whose suffered from this? Zuma and Rubble are gone, Chase."

"G-gone?" asked Chase, standing up in shock. "W-What do you mean?!"

"They're traumatized. Ryder took them to a mental hospital," sighed Rocky, lowering his head. "There's even talk of Animal Care getting involved and having us being removed from Ryder's care because of all that's happened. They think he's an unfit owner."

"That's bullshit!" shouted Chase, stomping his paw. "Ryder's been the best owner in the entire world! He loves us! We love him!"

"Well, they think two dead pups, one from suicide, and two more in fragile mental states are proof enough that he isn't. Everest is okay since Jake is her owner, but we're not going to be so lucky. We'll be sent to separate homes. Paw Patrol… is finished," muttered Rocky, tears in his eyes.

"No…" whispered Chase, whimpering. He didn't care about his own fate anymore, but he did care about the others. "Who… who will Ryder have left… his parents are gone… he has no family…"

"I don't know…" Rocky said, shaking his head. "I just… wanted you to know…because sometime soon… we'll be leaving here…" He slowly got up and moved over to the door. Pausing he, looked over his shoulder and muttered, "You should talk to him when you get the chance."

Chase didn't say anything. He just stood there in silence as Rocky left.

It took an hour, but Chase finally managed to crawl out of his pup house for the first time in days. The sun's ray was almost blinding to him as he struggled to find his footing and breath the fresh air. He also could smell how stinky he was, wondering if he should take a bath at some point. Heading into the Lookout, he noticed how… empty it was. There was no sound of laughter or the parade of paws jumping up and down. No TV or games being played. No treats being distributed by the snack machines. Not even the sound of Ryder playing his game on his pup pad. It was a silent as a graveyard.

Just looking around he could see what used to be a normal day in his mind. Marshall and him playing Pup Pup Boogie as Marshall tired to do the tail spin only to wipe out. Rocky reading a book next to an open window as a cool breeze flew over his ears. Zuma and Skye solving a puzzle set while arguing which piece went where. Rubble eating whatever snack he could get his paws on. And Ryder, watching his pups with a proud smile on his face like a father to his children.

Just a few weeks ago it was all… like that. Now it was all gone. His friends were dead, traumatized, or were about to be taken away. His family was broken. Their team was scattered. It made Chase wish this all went away, even with the Monkey's Paw in his paws. Closing his eyes, he made his way to the elevator and pressed the up button. The town of Adventure Bay was before him as the elevator slowly rose up. Pressing a paw on the glass, he wondered if he would still be here when Animal Care came for him and Rocky. Would they put him with an owner or orphanage in town or someplace far away? Would they never see each other again after this?

The elevator ended as he slowly walked out, trying to find Ryder. He spotted him on a beanbag chair, looking at a photograph. Slowly, Chase walked towards him as Ryder slowly looked upward. There were dry tear marks on his cheeks and Chase could smell the water that was coming from his misty eyes. He didn't even hesitate, he just jumped into Ryder's arms and hugged him. The two stood there in silence. His first pup. His first owner.

"They won't take me… I won't let them," muttered Chase, sniffing. "We'll run away. Grab Rocky, Zuma, and Rubble and just fly away. An island or something. We'll live there forever."

"Chase…"

"Please, Ryder. We lost Marshall and Skye. I don't to lose you or anyone else. Please!"

Scratching his pup's ear, Ryder muttered, "Chase, I'll do everything I can to keep you. I already got a lawyer coming and everything." He gave a smirk at his pup and winked. "Trust me. I'm not going down without a fight."

Chase gave a small smile and nodded before biting his lip. "Sir? Ryder…" He hesitated at first, but then shook his head. "What if… what if I told you I'm responcbile for all this?" Ryder tilted his head. "I… I know this is going to be hard to believe but I… I wished this happened!"

He then said it all. Everything he had been holding for days. The gypsy dog. The Monkey's Paw. Marshall and Skye's death. All his wishes. Everything he confsed to the point where his throat became as dry as a desert when he finished. Taking deep breaths, he looked at Ryder who was staring at him with a stoic face. Then Ryder just sighed and whispered, "Chase, you don't need to make up a lie to make me feel better."

"But Sir! It's the tr-"

"Chase, please… I know you want to blame yourself, but you're not to blame for Marshall and Skye's death," said Ryder, shaking his head. "Monkey Paw's are just superstition. The gypsy was just messing with you to sell you it and it's got you acting like this. Chase, you're just imagining it. Trust me."

He opened his mouth but stopped himself. I knew he wouldn't believe me… and if Ryder doesn't believe me who else will? He just nodded his head before slowly getting off his owner. "Hey, I'm going to order Pizza for the three of us. You up for some?"

"Y-yeah… I think I need a bath first… can we watch a movie?" asked Chase, slowly smiling.

"Of course."

It wasn't perfect, but Chase had felt more relaxed that evening since Skye's death. The movie they watched sucked, but it was funny to make fun of it. The pizza was tasty and having eaten so little for so long it wasn't a surprise that Chase ate half the box. Rocky even joked on how he could have eaten Rubble under the table, but that only made them feel sad and guilty. Their two youngest were still in the mental hospital, unable to come to terms with what had just happened. Things went quiet after that.

With a full belly, Chase slowly retreated to his pup house and collapsed with a sigh. Closing his eyes, he felt himself slowly falling asleep as he wondered what was going to happen. Would he be separated from his friends? Would he ever find happiness? Was it better to just get it over with.

"God… I wish they were alive again," whispered Chase as he slowly closed his eyes.

A forth finger folded.

Many miles away in a cemetery, there were two gravestones. One holding the bravest firepup Adventure Bay had known and the other the most daring airpup they had known. The two of them had been buried side by side to rest in eternity.

Both graves were covered with flowers. Some fresh. Some days old. All from those who loved them as heroes and as icons of their town. They had remained undisturbed for so long it was almost staring at a photo that was still for all to come.

Yet, that was soon to change. A figure had come, one who had been looking for days to get this chance. Her stupid owner and that idiot of a Duke were on some charity tour for the poor pups and children of Barkingburg. The thought of even getting near such dirty little rats near her perfect white coat made her nearly throw up. When she finally became queen, she would see to it that all those brats wasting tax dollars on orphanages were sent to work houses or the factories so that some good use came of them.

That money should be better suited for something better. Like statues of me, thought Sweetie as she walked up to the two grave stones with a smirk. Shouldn't be too long with the Paw Patrol no longer a problem.

When she heard about Marshall, and later Skye, being dead she pretended to be sad just like everyone else was. Her owner even held a day of remembrance twice and personally went to the funerals herself. Sweetie was forced to go, but she only pretended to look sad and regretful. In truth, she wanted to find that snake and kiss it for doing this. Two of her biggest problems were dead and gone, just how she was hoping for. Sure, she never out right tried to kill the Paw Patrol, as tempting as it was, but she wasn't going to ignore a gift in a horses mouth. Sweetie never believed in a god, but there must have been one to bless her with suck luck. And with the rumors of Paw Patrol ending after Skye's suicide it might as well have been Christmas.

Of course, there was a different reason she was here. As much as she enjoyed whispering insults to both corpses at their respective wakes, she wanted to do something nasty to these two. They had stopped her time and time again from taking over the crown, and it was high time she put these two in their place. Even if they were dead. Good thing she drank a lot of water on her flight to here.

Lowering her rump over Skye's grave, she sighed in relief as she began to mark her territory on the tombstone. That's right bitch. You're mine even in death. She made sure to stop half way to save some for Marshall.

Humming herself the Paw Patrol's famous catch song in a funeral march tone, she failed to notice that some of the dirt over Marshall's grave stone was… moving. Sweetie was ignorant of this however, as she moved to lower her rump to spray her urine, not seeing the paw that slowly began come out.

"HERO PUP GRAVES DEFILED! ROYAL PET FOUND DEAD AT SCENE!

Last night, Mr. and Mrs. Ling were going to visit the grave of their son who died in the Iraq War when they saw that the graves of our beloved lost heroes, Marshall and Skye of Paw Patrol, had been opened; their coffins smashed. Lying there, torn from limb to limb, were the remains of one Royal Pet Sweetie of Barkingburg. Authorities quickly arrived at the scene to see if there were any traces of the missing bodies or the thieves that took them and murdered the young pup.

"She was torn apart like a piece of meat. You could see the teeth marks everywhere on her body with her blood and guts scattered all over the place," reported Officer McMadon. "I even heard that there are bits of her, both inside and out, that are missing."

Neither Ryder of Paw Patrol or the Princess of Barkingburg have given a statement yet.