Chase didn't have much real experience in relationships. He had dated Skye on and off for a week or two and even tried things out with Everest during a visit to the mountains. While it was fun to build their own relationships and spend time with the dogs he cared for, he never once felt that warm flicker of true romantic attraction. At first, he was confused, believing then that perhaps something was wrong with him. Skye and Everest were lovely in countless ways, so shouldn't he be able to feel those feelings? No matter what he tried, the spark between them never came. It all changed that night he spend with Rocky.

The crazy mix actually kissed him, driven forward by mental detachment. Chase didn't kiss him back but rather pushed him away with an instinctive paw into the other dog's chest, and then quickly began a long drop into the rabbit hole that was Rocky's schizophrenic, shattered mind. He wanted badly to help the mix, to bring Rocky into the light and get him the help he deserved, but lately, a new feeling had been itching at him. A feeling he was anxious to investigate and nervous to reveal. He couldn't get the initial kiss out of his head, and he caught himself revisiting the memory several times.

Chase poked idly at his food ball, another dog sitting across from him giving a suddenly hopeful look.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Rubble looked up from his own bowl, "because if you're not I'll happily take that-"

"No, Rubble," Chase rolled his eyes, "I'm just thinking,"

"Thinking," repeated the Bulldog, "I'm not good at that," he chuckled in a jolly tone, "and what's so interesting you forget about these beef chunks? Are you still thinking about those alley murders?"

The Shepherd shook his head absently, "no, not that either, but I do wish we'd get a lead or something on that psychopath."

"So what's on your mind?"

Chase sighed for a moment, debating on whether or not he should tell Rubble about his situation. Everyone was well aware of him taking Rocky out every now and then, it had earned him enough stares from Marshall and Skye, and questioning looks from Zuma. He didn't fully know how much of his reputation was on the line by interacting with Rocky, but he would fight to keep his name on his badge. Chase had more than enough bite and bark to control his teammates if it came to it. And yet, Rubble was an interesting case, a dog who didn't understand, yet kind of did. He was childish in nature, although faint glimmers of intellect pushed through his sluggish exterior.

"You ever spend a long time trying to look for something?" Chase inquired, "but you never find it, only to realize you were looking in the wrong place."

Rubble merely blinked, "did you lose something?"

"Not sure. To lose something means you had it first, I think the term 'missing' applies better here," Chase nodded,

"So what are you missing?" Rubble took a massive bite of his food,

The police dog looked to the side, giving a small shrug, "it's complicated, but I don't really understand why I'm missing it to begin with,"

"Chase, you've lost me," Rubble stared, unable to comprehend a word his friend was saying.

"Yeah, I think I've lost myself too," the Shepherd stood up, "on the second thought, you can have my bowl." Rubble gave an exciting sound of glee as Chase pushed his bowl over.

"Thanks Chase, you're the best!"

"Debatable," the police dog muttered, walking off back to his kennel. He briefly passed by Rocky's own den, and his mind swirled. The grey mix soon formed in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it away. Make no mistake, Rocky was dancing in Chase's head, and he had no idea why.

Pushing through the door, he faceplanted onto his bed. He remembered the comment that slipped Rocky's mouth the other day at the beach, he remembered how comfortable he was at being affectionate with the mix when he was once nervously to even hold Skye's paw. He tried to deny it at first, but there had been something there. Chase's heart dipped slightly, his fur growing warm as he suddenly longed to see Rocky again. The mix was unfortunately locked away in his kennel, a morning ritual of sorts that began long ago and hadn't stopped. Chase wished he could go right up there and wander through the door like a ghost, jumping into Rocky's arms and soothing his agony away. But were these feelings romantic, or just the platonic love and care of a good friend? Chase didn't have any real understanding of his feelings, he just needed time.

The rest of the day went along without a hitch. At about noon they were called to mission for a farm of escaped chickens. Chase, Marshall, and Skye had been selected. Chase and Marshall were the runners, dispatched to chase down the feathered egg-layers and herd them back. Skye was mainly on overwatch, scanning the ground from above for any hens. They completed it within the hour. While Chase enjoyed Marshall's company, he couldn't help wishing it was Rocky who came along instead.

.-.

Rocky winced as he was forcefully pressed up against his workstation, his head shoved onto the surface while Zuma finished his own work behind him. After a final, agonizing shove of pain, the mix was forcefully thrown aside like a piece of trash.

"Well aren't you fun," Zuma leered sarcastically, breathing heavily in exhaustion, "you just gonna lie there?"

Rocky stared ahead at his wall, trying to ignore the excruciating pain that rocketed through his body, "the shadows are looking at me,"

Zuma looked up from licking his paw, "you're fucking delusional,"

"Aren't we all,"

"You know, the only reason we keep you around isn't that we care about you," the Lab got up, walking toward the entrance of the den, "you're just meat, mix, and you'll continue to be meat until you die. You're a toy."

"Awesome," the mix blankly stared, the final flickers in his heart beginning to give out,

"Well, at least you embrace it," Zuma shrugged, "oh hey, we're doing this again tomorrow, maybe clean this shithole up? Dress nicely for once, it's on you to make this enjoyable after all."

The Lab finally left, letting Rocky wallow in his agony in peace. Perhaps he deserved this, or more, it was meant to be. Was his life's purpose meant to be nothing but a piece of meat meant to be thrown around? It was highly likely, and Rocky's dignity was already nonexistent, so at this point he may as well accept it.

Looking up briefly, an idea came to his mind. Perhaps that was how he'd win Chase over, through pure submission. As the thought came to him, Rocky was filled with quiet triumph that nearly deafened out his physical pains. Chase was a police dog, and police liked control, so maybe all he had to do was just be submissive. It was perfect. Shakily picking himself up, the mix hobbled to his bed, wincing as each movement sent sharp waves through him. Laying down on the padded mattress, Rocky tried to absorb as much comfort as he could for the time being, seeking to soothe away his screaming body.

Chase returned from the chicken wrangling mission a few minutes later. Rocky walked out into the setting sun to meet him.

"Hey Chase," he called, drunkenly walking as his body was still sore,

The police dog turned around and smiled, but quickly drifted into concern, "why are you walking like that?"

"Why are you covered in feathers?" Rocky countered,

"Chickens, Rocky," he said simply, "not really good for my allergies. Like a dozen of those clucking, fat-feathered bird things all running in different directions," he laughed slightly, "don't let their small size fool you. Those things are really fast."

"The eggs are tasty though," the mix smiled softly, remembering a time in the streets when he found some scrambled eggs in the garbage, "especially with bacon,"

"Everything is better with bacon, isn't it?"

The two dogs chuckled to themselves before Rocky decided to cast his line out, "so I was wondering," he began, "if you wanted to meet up on the hills tonight?"

"You want to look at the stars?" Chase tilted his head with a smile,

"Yeah," the mix nodded, "with you, mostly,"

The Shepherd could feel his heart skip a beat, yet he was suddenly filled with worry. If Rocky confessed to him officially, what could he say? He wasn't opposed to being with him, but he needed time. Time to understand himself, time to make sense of his feelings and emotions. He was nowhere near ready to put all his cards in now.

"Sounds nice," Chase wagged his tail, "I'll be there, but in the meantime, have you eaten?"

Rocky's smile quickly died, "Um-"

"Alright, let's go," the Shepherd sighed, leading Rocky along, "let's get something in your stomach."

.-.

The night sky blanketed the lands, stars twinkled as they dotted the great vastness of space. It was quite something to look at, the crickets around hiding within the grass echoed out their nightly song. Sitting atop the cold grass, staring ahead the great infinity of the sky, was two small dogs staring up at the beyond.

"You ever think about going to space?" Chase muttered, laying on his back,

"It's pretty easy to die up there," Rocky sighed, lying on his side an inch or so from his partner, he longed for Chase's comforting arms, "one thing going wrong could be a death sentence,"

"Yeah well, I'm saying if you could go anywhere without repercussions," Chase explained, "for me, I've always wanted to go to New Zealand."

"Really?" Rocky sat up slightly, "why there?"

"They have a landmark called Blue Lake, it's said to be the cleanest, most beautiful lake in the world," he looked over at the mix, smiling brightly, "you're an Eco Dog, right? Imagine that, the cleanest water in the entire world."

"That… does sound nice," a faint smile formed on the mix, happy to learn of a place of such radiance, "well, at least some people actually care about water cleanliness."

"Of course," Chase sat up, looking at his friend, "it's a real thing, a valid concept people care for, like you."

The comment stung the mix deep, and suddenly he remembered why he set up this meeting to begin with. It was now or never, he had to do everything he could to see love for even a glimpse.

"Chase," Rocky stuttered, "can I ask you something?"

The Shepherd rolled over and got up, his hazel eyes shining in the moonlight, "yeah, what's up?"

The mix gulped down the static in his stomach, clenching his paws as he forced it out, "I'm sorry if this is weird but, ever since you've been with me, included me, it's just made me happy," he was unable to block the deep red blush that was staining his face, "I think you're… having this effect on me. I don't want to lie to you so, I'll say it now,"

Chase silently braced himself, a small piece of him knowing exactly what was coming,

"I… I need you, Chase," Rocky confessed, "I want you. You're the only dog I have since everyone else fucking hates me. I'm just… carrying this massive crush on you," he breathed in, his heartbeat increasing, "so… I like you, and I need you. Right now,"

Chase was locked in place with a fearful expression on his face. His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment he wondered if he was dreaming. But it was real, Rocky truly liked him, and not platonically. It was a craving for romance, desire, and companionship, and the one dog who could give it all to the mix was himself. Chase wanted to say yes, he wanted deeply to throw himself at the mix and cradle him until all space and time collapsed, but he couldn't. He was caught off guard, it was too soon. He just needed a little time to think it over, that was all.

"Rocky, I-" Chase began, wincing as he glanced to the side, "see like, I wouldn't mind being with you but…"

Rocky's ears slowly fell back, "but… what?"

"Is it okay if I…" Chase struggled to find the words, "just take a little time first? I promise it won't even be that long," he smiled nervously with a slight hint of shame, "please Rocky, just give me a bit, okay?"

"So… you don't."

"No! I don't mean it that way at all," the Shepherd protested, "it just means I have to think it over, simple as that."

He reached an arm around Rocky and pulled him in for a hug. Usually Rocky would adore the soft feeling of Chase's fur, but something was different. The spark was suddenly gone from Rocky's eyes, he had a look of resignation. Chase tried to squeeze him as hard as he could, even nuzzling his cheek, but Rocky was unresponsive. There was tension in the air, and Chase prayed it would go away if they just sat back down and resumed watching the sky. Every few moments, the Shepherd would look over at his friend, trying to find any sign of emotion within him, only he found nothing. He'd feel awful if he hurt Rocky, but he really felt that just a little time was needed. Perhaps a day or two at most, surely Rocky could wait that long? The police dog merely sighed and tried to enjoy the stars, praying his partner would be okay.