Adventure Bay had gone into a complete shutdown after the news of Skye's death. For three days, a mourning and remembrance of life was held all across the town. Hardly anyone went to work the first day, only the select few essential personnel that were needed to run the town; Ryder actually had to take over mayoral duties from Mayor Goodway, as the woman refused to work at all.

Select members of the PAW Patrol were part of these essential personnel; Marshall, being in charge of the Adventure Bay Fire House, had no choice but to work. Even in a complete shut down, Adventure Bay needed its firefighters on duty. Chase, despite having Scott as a very suitable and reliable second in command, also chose to go into work. The rest of the pups managed to dodge the need to work, luckily.

Chase had a complete emotional shutdown, refusing to leave his office to return to the Lookout or anywhere in the police building. He ate, slept, and practically lived in his office for two days. Marshall's behavior was practically the same as his blood brother, hardly seen outside of the firehouse, though he did make an effort to address his subordinates every morning.

Rocky was nowhere to be seen in town, now seemingly a permanent resident in Barkingburg. To everyone's surprise, Sweetie actually offered her condolences and apologies by way of a very formally written letter. Apparently, despite being one of the PAW Patrols main rivals, Sweetie would have never wished something like this on them, and that she was "going to do her best to support them in this trying time." This included, as she put it, "taking Rocky off their hands for a bit." Apparently, Rocky was a complete emotional mess of a canine.

Rubble was also a complete and utter train wreck. The young bulldog hardly ate or moved as he sat in the living room of the Lookout, crying for a few hours at a time before falling asleep, only to wake up and start all over again. He didn't even want to watch Apollo the Super Pup, to everyone's concern. Usually, if the pup was feeling down, he watched a few episodes and he was right back to being his bright, happy self. Now? He couldn't stand to watch a second of it.

Everest was in a similar boat, staying at the Lookout with Rubble and Jake. The Husky seemed to be the most distraught about Skye's death, due to the close relationship they had. To her credit, however, she tried her best to comfort Rubble, often sitting with him and letting him sleep against her.

Zuma now spent his time surfing, simply trying to forget the events of the past three days, letting the waves fill his mind.

Ryder hated seeing his pups like this, he hated seeing himself in the state that he was in, he hated seeing Katie in the state she was in, he hated every moment that his team, his family, spent in anguish. He despised it with all his character.

Ryder's thoughts were broken as Katie shifted in her sleep. Ryder shook his head slightly and blinked a few times. His room was dim, just enough light to make out outlines of his other furniture, but not bright enough you could see anything clearly. His bed was situated against the wall on the far side, toward the outer edge of the Lookout. Katie currently slept with her back toward the wall, still shifting until she finally got comfortable, promptly falling back asleep. Ryder smiled. Katie was a very caring person, and Ryder couldn't have asked for anything more. She understood Ryder well enough that he was suffering just as much, if not more, then the other pups, save Chase and maybe Marshall.

However, right now, Ryder thought he needed to talk to someone who was a little less caring, a little more honest in how he saw the world.

His brother.

Ryder shifted slightly. Katie didn't seem to notice, so Ryder shifted a bit more. Katie didn't respond. The process repeated for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only about two minutes. Ryder slipped a pillow underneath his girlfriend's head, before quietly walking across his room to the hallway.

He slipped out into the hallway, and promptly ran into Marshall, who was walking from the elevator door down to his room. Ryder was surprised. Marshall hadn't shown his face in two days, and now all of a sudden he was back home? Odd.

Ryder decided to try and talk with the dalmatian, breaking the ice with some humor. 'Finally coming home now, Marshall?'

Marshall scoffed and chuckled dryly. 'Only because I got my hide chewed out. By Ella and Tuck, of all dogs in this world.'

Ryder raised an eyebrow, curious. 'Huh. Haven't heard from them in awhile.'

Marshall nodded. 'Yeah. Apparently they heard about Skye's death from Mayor Goodway.'

Ryder nodded. As much as he didn't like the way Mayor Goodway governed the town nowadays, even he had to admit she cared about the PAW Patrol as much as he did. He wasn't surprised she had figured out a way to contact the Mighty Twins. Typical Goodway.

'Not surprised. They come home with you?'

Marshall chuckled again. 'Damn you're good Ryder.' He looked back toward the elevator for a second. 'Yeah, they're downstairs talking to Everest. I only came up here to grab a couple of sleeping bags for them.'

Ryder nodded in understanding. 'I appreciate the fact you thought about them, Marshall.'

Marshall laughed, sounding like his usual happy self for a second. 'I try, Ryder.'

Ryder smiled at his dalmatian. 'Alright, go grab those sleeping bags then.'

Marshall raised a questioning eyebrow, glancing toward Ryder's door. 'Where are you going? I thought Katie was with you.'

'She's asleep.' He looked back toward his door, smiling. 'As much as I love her, I need to go talk to someone a bit more-' Ryder hesitated for a second, 'stable. She's about as bad as the rest of you.'

Marshall mocked offense. 'Hey, I'm not that bad!'

Ryder scoffed. 'Keep telling yourself that, Marshall.' The two shared a laugh again before Ryder bid Marshall farewell, entering the elevator and riding it down to the bottom floor of the Lookout.

Once the elevator doors opened, Ryder immediately took a right into the living room, and smiled slightly when he saw Tuck laying down next to Rubble and Ella talking to Everest. The two girls were deep in conversation, neither noticing Ryder standing in the doorway. Tuck had fallen asleep with Rubble pressed up against him. Ryder couldn't help but smile, though it was filled with sadness at the same time. It hurt that the loss of one of them brought the entirety of the pups together, but maybe this had something good behind it.

Ryder turned back toward the main entrance of the Lookout, and proceeded to walk to his underground garage, mounting his ATV and he put on his helmet. Revving the engine, Ryder took off from the garage down the road from the Lookout.

The ride to the police station was oddly comforting, Ryder would later think. It allowed him a few minutes to forget his problems and just enjoy the wind and the feel of the ATV, clearing his head before it became plagued with its troubling thoughts again.

The ride to the police department was short, only about five minutes. Ryder pulled his ATV into an empty parking spot, leaving his helmet with the vehicle. No-one would steal it, he was sure. He walked toward the building, once again thinking about how he would approach his brother about the things that he had on his mind.

Ryder had never actually been inside of the police department, never really having the need too. Chase usually came home for lunch, and Ryder treated the building as Chase's domain, never intervening in his decision making.

So due to this, Ryder had no idea where his brother would be located.

'Hey, kid, what'cha doing here?'

Ryder turned to the person talking to him. A man wearing a sergeant's rank stood before him, short, stocky, and balding, arms crossed and eyes cold. Ryder was caught off guard for a second, not able to find the proper response.

The sergeant smiled widely and laughed. 'Jesus kid, I'm just screwing with you.' He laughed again, loudly. 'You should see the look on your face. Priceless.' The officer kept laughing as Ryder shook his head and sighed.

The sergeant's laughing fit finally stopped. He wiped a tear from his eye before he spoke again. 'Let me guess, you're looking for the Lieutenant. You're Ryder, right?'

Ryder nodded. 'Yeah, I need to talk to him for a minute. Is he busy?'

The sergeant shook his head, pointing behind him at a hallway. 'Down that hall, take a right, then the second door on the left. Should be in the shooting range right now.'

Ryder nodded. 'Thank you, Sergeant?' He inquired for the sergeant's name.

'Miller. Name's Miller. I was one of the responding officers on scene that night.'

Ryder nodded and mouthed an "oh." He had been there, and probably knew what happened better than Ryder did. Ryder bid Miller farewell, making his way toward the location that the sergeant had given him directions for. Ryder couldn't help but notice that the department seemed…empty. The teen only saw two officers walking through the halls, and both had paid him no mind, not caring that a random teenager was walking around in their workplace.

Ryder finally came upon the door that he had been directed too. It was simply labeled "Range," and there were gunshots coming faintly from behind it. Another sign hung below the identifying sign, stating "Earpro required before entering the shooting gallery. You know who you are." Ryder chuckled at the sign. Apparently, someone wasn't the brightest here.

Ryder creaked open the door, and was glad to hear that the gunfire was muffed by thick glass panes and a steel door. He walked the rest of the way in, noticing that the range was adorned with a multitude of flags, posters, a few racks of ear muffs, and a few tables in the wall for setting up rifles. Along the fall wall, above the built in tables were a couple of windows, showing the range beyond quite clearly. Ryder saw his brother in the center most booth, and the faint gunshots he had heard were a lot more audible, though still severely muffled. Ryder looked around to see if there was any other way of getting his brother's attention, as opposed to going into the range.

There was a box of some sort next to Ryder's head that had two rows of five buttons on it, each labeled with a number. Ryder was confused by the box's existence, until he looked back at the range itself. There were ten booths, each with their own number. Ryder's mind developed a quick hypothesis, and he pressed the button labeled "5," the number of the booth his brother was in.

A small LED on the left side of the booth lit up. Scott looked over, then looked back. He was holding his SCAR, and he dropped the magazine and racked the bolt on it. He walked toward the door at the end of the range, coming into the room with hardly a sound. Walking over to the table in front of Ryder, he set his rifle down and unholstered his SIG Sauer pistol.

'What'cha need, kid?' His voice was calm and smooth, quite contrary to how Ryder felt at the moment. 'Not everyday my little brother walks into my work and interrupts my shooting time.' He unloaded his pistol and cleanly racked it as he set it down.

Ryder fidgeted for a moment. 'Do I need to come back later-'

Scott cut him off. 'Listen, laddie, speak your damn mind now. I hate it when people beat around the bush.'

Ryder sighed, carefully formulating his words. 'I need some advice.'

'On what, exactly?'

'I have no idea how to handle everything going on right now.' Ryder started. 'Chase and Marshall both have completely shut down,'

Scott scoffed. 'Don't I know it.'

'And the rest of the pups are complete wrecks. I'm feeling overwhelmed and lost all at the same time. It's like everything is falling apart around me, and I can't do anything to keep it all together.'

Scott sighed. 'And you want my help with what exactly?' He had moved to sit on one the table, taking apart his SCAR and laying it beside him. He patted the part of the table next to him. 'Come, sit.'

Ryder hoisted himself onto the table. 'I want to know how you do it. How you seem to keep everything from bothering you.'

Scott laughed. 'Keep it from bothering me? That's what y'all think?'

Ryder nodded in agreement.

This caused Scott to laugh even harder. 'Trust me, laddie, it does bother me. Just unlike you and your pups, I have a lot more experience underneath this belt.' Scott chuckled as he continued to clean his SCAR. 'Look, do you want advice on how to cope with all this shit? Is that why you're here?'

Ryder shrugged. 'Yeah, I guess.'

'No no, is that why you came here? Straight answer, Ryder.' Scott locked eyes with Ryder, staring intensely. Ryder saw his reflection in his brother's eyes. A young boy, distraught, tear lined, red faced. He looked like hell. Ryder nodded. 'Yeah.'

Scott nodded. 'It's simple. You get the fuck on with your life.' Scott went back to cleaning his rifle. 'That's what I did. I moved on. Took it with a grimace and groan, and kept moving. Keep those memories there, remember why you keep going. But don't get bogged down by them.' He quickly reassembled his field stripped rifle. 'That's how. Now, tell your dogs that so we can all get on with our lives, alright? Please. I would like to talk shit to my chief again.'

Ryder chuckled. 'I'm surprised you actually acknowledge Chase as your commander.'

Scott laughed loudly. 'Like hell. I just pretend like it. I do the dirty work, Ryder. I ain't getting bossed around by a paper pusher. Did enough of that in the service.'

Ryder laughed. 'You're a weird man, Scott.'

The operator smiled wickedly. 'That's why I'm so good.'