It was at that moment everything stopped. The static in Rocky's head, the screaming, the unyielding noise, it all calmed to a peaceful whisper. For the first time in months, standing in the darkness of the alley, Rocky saw himself for the first time. He saw himself standing before him like a looming shadow, lurking tall with bloodied paws and a twisted grin of malice. It felt like a dream, like a strange note of unexplainable memory was trying to pull him somewhere he didn't know. He felt fear at the sight of himself, a faint tremble in his paw as he stared up at the larger beast of a dog. Was this truly what he had become, a mere crippled reflection that hardly resembled a dog?

The larger dog took a step forward, closing the distance between them. He spoke in an icy tone, yet it had stilled to a gentle melody. "You seeing stars, Rocks?"

"You're-" Rocky stuttered, softly tripping over his own words as his face twisted in the struggle to understand. "I… how are you…?" He couldn't describe the emotions he was feeling, his brain under so much confusion it could barely register a response.

"I'm what, dead?" Dakota said, faint amusement on his tongue, "you know me better than that Rocks. I'm here, and I'm real, look." He shifted his weight and held up his right, dusted paw. Gently reaching out as if to pet a frail bird, he touched the tip of Rocky's nose. The smaller mixed breed recoiled from the touch, panic flaring in his head from the physical contact.

Dakota saw it all too clearly, and his amusement fell with a frown, "what the hell happened to you? You look terrible."

Lacking the current brain function to answer the question, Rocky's breathing quickened along with his heartbeat, shivering in his paws, he began to shrunk back. He couldn't understand if he was afraid or confused, his entire worldview had fractured and shaken upside down.

"I…" the small dog shook, "I saw you die."

"What? No you didn't." Dakota said with an annoyed expression, "I told you to run, and you did. You think I can't take a few anorexic strays? Again, I thought you knew me better than that." He slowly began walking, circling Rocky like a coyote, "when it was all done, I came to find you, but… you were gone." He faltered slightly, looking at his brother. "I thought you would just go back home but I couldn't find you. I actually thought someone…" Hesitation froze his voice briefly, "I thought someone got you, while I was distracted."

Shaking his head slightly, Rocky sat with his head hung. "You told me to run, and I did. I was scared…"

"Where in the hell did you go?"

"Under a bridge," the small dog confessed, "let myself sink in the water for several minutes, it was awful." He shuddered at the thought of being submerged in the freezing waters, until he remembered the saving grace of the memory. "That was when… Ryder found me."

Listening intently, Dakota let his eyes flick away from his brother. His blood kept fighting to boil, his claws flexing as he hunted for anger that never came. As much as he wanted to tear Rocky's ear for vanishing, his heart had other ideas.

"Thought I lost you, kid." A hint of joy slipped out, as he reached his arm around Rocky and pulled him in a tight embrace. His brother was taken off guard by the sudden contact, as briefly he automatically pushed away like a backward magnet.

Then he remembered.

He remembered being four weeks old, sailing over the sidewalk as Dakota carried him to safety from the rain. He remembered being tucked under his brother's fur, shielded from the bitter cold of winter, while Dakota shivered away unprotected. He remembered all the times Dakota had repeatedly reassured him that he wasn't hungry, wasn't tired, wasn't hurt, all to ease Rocky's worry of his protector. He remembered what little remained of their food yet was always passed his way.

He remembered his brother.

His anxiety melted away, and slowly Rocky's tail began to wag. The pain soothed away as a feeling of light burned inside him, burning through the stone that had encased his heart. For the first time, as he leaned forward and shut his eyes to be cradled, he felt something he had not felt for as long as he could remember; the feeling of being whole.

"You're back," Rocky breathed through his tears as he pulled away, "you're really here, it… it's not some cruel joke." Further he cried, but he cared little, "it's really you!"

Dakota laughed and ruffled Rocky's fur. "I've missed you, kid. You have no idea how much I've missed you."

"How did you even find me?"

"Rocks, what have I always been telling you?" The larger dog said with a knowing grin. "Tactical observation, watch all and see all. That's how I found you."

"You've been watching me?" Asked the younger sibling, "how?"

Lying down on his stomach, Dakota crossed his paws, "as the months went on, I was hearing time and time again about a team of six puppies and some kid who could apparently work miracles." He chuckled the statement, "you save a few cats in trees, and suddenly you get a formal congratulation from the mayor? Hilarious."

"Heh," Rocky giggled at the thought. "I guess we are a little overrated sometimes."

"But it wasn't until you came back to Adventure City that I got curious," Dakota continued, narrowing his eyes as he remembered his exploits. "I figured it was a chance to see them up close, and get some idea of the dogs everyone was worshiping."

Holding up a paw to punctuate his words, Dakota leaned in slightly, "and when I finally pushed through that big crowd, came up at the foot of that giant stage, over all the loud music and people, want to take a guess what I saw?"

Rocky already knew the answer. "Me?"

"You." His brother nodded. "In fact, I didn't see anything but you. My own brother, standing amongst five airheads dressed in flashy costumes. Couldn't believe my fuckin' eyes, you were alive." He sighed, chuckling sadly, "you were right there. Right in front of me, and you looked so… happy."

Now it was Rocky who slowly frowned, his mood faltering. "Well, maybe then." He shrugged, tracing his gray paw along the ground. "Things are different now."

"I went to find Liberty, practically hunted the poor dog down and cornered her." Dakota continued.

"You know Liberty?" Rocky perked up.

"Everyone knows Liberty, Rocks. Anyway, she said you had already left, but she told me about Adventure Bay… and well, here I am."

"You came looking for me," said the smaller dog, eyes widening in surprise. "But Adventure City, all that was months ago! How long did it take you to get here?"

"I was always here, actually." Dakota pointed out, "I spent a while studying the area, establishing a place in the alleyways. I realized quickly that strays aren't treated very well here, so I couldn't exactly just walk around."

The words were a cut in the skin to Rocky, as he knew more than anyone just what happened to the dull homeless dogs in Adventure Bay. While they didn't seem unequal at first, a large handful of strays immediately resorted to violence and territorial behavior. It wasn't long until all of Adventure Bay had one fixed idea about strays: They were lesser, nothing compared to the higher, orderly dogs. It was simply just the way things were, dogs segregated in half and turned against one another.

"Fancy that nothing really changes from the city to the bay," Dakota remarked.

A shudder went down Rocky's spine, "of course not, they're treated terribly. And you wouldn't believe how the rest of the Paw Patrol sees me now."

"And how is that?"

"They all hate me, Dakota." Rocky said, spiteful of his once-friends, "they're convinced I'm some… crazy lunatic who needs to be locked up. Not to mention, they seem to target me just because I'm a mutt."

"Hold on," his brother's face grew stern, his joyful exterior dying away, "they're doing what to you?"

Tears welled up in the smaller puppy's eyes as he shifted uncomfortably, "they just hate me, want nothing to do with me. And Zuma always-" he immediately froze, snapping his tongue still as fear froze into his blood.

Dakota tilted his head with a raised eyebrow. "What? What's Zuma doing?"

"Nothing!" Came the instant answer, Rocky almost jumped up entirely as he tried to still his frantic heart, "nothing, nothing at all! Nothing… whatsoever." His ears drooped as he slowly looked at the floor.

Although he frowned at Rocky's behavior, Dakota waved it off. "That's… awful. I'm sorry you have to deal with that. I really wish I could help, but revealing myself may get you in more trouble." He put a crusted paw to his chin, "why don't you come start visiting me, would get you away from them."

"Really?" Rocky jumped up, wagging his tail at the offer, "doubt they'd miss me anyway. They don't even let me wear a collar anymore." He gave a quick side-glance as he thought of Chase, and what a lovely image the shepherd produced in his head. No matter how aggressively his heart pounded at the thought of him, Rocky knew the Paw Patrol had long abandoned him.

"What? Well that's not-" The older dog squinted, muttering to himself in disbelief, "they don't even let you carry an ID? Fuckers. Well, I got plenty of collars back at my den. You can have one."

"You do?"

"Indeed," Dakota nodded. "Plenty of different collars, nice smells. I have a couple all in a nice pile."

"Why do you have a pile of collars?" Rocky couldn't help but ask.

Yawning slightly, the larger dog looked off in a dreaming gaze. "I collect them whenever I find a lost one. Sometimes I wear one and… pretend I have an owner, you know?" He gave a soft shrug, smiling. "Pretend I'm not a stray."

"Well, you won't be alone anymore." The mixed breed wagged his tail, "because I'm gonna visit you every single day. I'll come down here, and get away from those jerks."

Looking down at his brother, Dakota smiled at the thought of the family reunited. "I'd like that very much."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dragging his hands exasperated across his face, Ryder lay slung over the couch as burnout bolted him in place. Even as the sun rose high above the Lookout, neither Chase nor Ryder had slept a wink.

"Chase, you've been staring at those pictures for two hours," he groaned, looking up at the dog where he stood. "Are you actually going to connect anything?"

Facing away from him, the German shepherd stood on a chair with his vision glued to a massive table of where important evidence had been clustered. Documents, crime scene photos and reports, maps of Adventure Bay, and anything else that could possibly be used to unmask the killer that walked the streets.

"Hold on, I think I've got something," Chase narrowed his eyes, fighting through his exhaustion while keeping his front paws firmly planted on the table.

"You said that five minutes ago."

"And I'm still finding it!" The dog gritted his teeth, desperately scanning every printed pixel of the photos for anything he could've missed. "Seven total victims…"

"All strays," Ryder chimed in. "As we've noted a thousand times."

"What makes them all strays, though?" Chase squinted.

"We found them in alleyways, they were dirty, and none of them had collars. That's a stray."

The police puppy refused to believe it was that cut and dry. "What if they aren't? What if we've missed something that connects all this and we don't even know it?" He spoke frantically as he stretched his brain to the max possible limit. "There has to be something we overlooked, I won't rest until I find it."

"You're gonna be up for awhile," Ryder grumbled as he sat up on the couch. "You seriously need to just go to bed."

Chase looked over his shoulder, weakly smiling at his leader, "can I have a coffee please?"

"No." The boy said instantly, flashing him a stern look and pointing his finger. "You're a dog, you can't drink that."

"But I need to be awake!"

"No coffee!"

Groaning in agitation, Chase huffed and flattened his ears, but Ryder knew the pup well, and wouldn't surrender to his theatrics. The boy stood up from the couch and stretched, holding his arms above his head to relax himself. "I'm…" he stopped to yawn, "going to bed, and I expect you to as well, preferably soon." Knowing the shepherd wouldn't budge, he held up his arms in defeat and turned to the elevator. "Fine, but it's your tail if you fall asleep on a mission."

Chase heard his leader enter the elevator and leave, casting Chase in darkness only illuminated by that of a desk lamp on the table. Tapping claws on the hardwood, he couldn't resist yawning a few times before another word could leave him. Even though Ryder wasn't much help, he was good company, and now without him Chase was feeling especially alone.

It was the perfect time to contact a certain someone, the mere thought of him brining a warm feeling to his chest. He brought a paw to his neck, feeling for his radio to call Rocky, only to suddenly halt in his step as he remembered the mix didn't have a collar. "I'll have to get him one," Chase frowned, his paw dejectedly falling back to the floor. "Don't think Ryder would kill me for something as little as that."

That was how Chase found himself in the dead of night exiting out into The Lookout grounds in search of the mixed breed on his mind. His body tugged with exhaustion, and the furious urge to shut his eyes for a few hours was becoming louder by the second. No matter how many times he tried to shake his head to wake himself up, the tired feeling only returned. But heroes never slept, and Chase was willing to sacrifice whatever he needed to finally expose the murderer of Adventure Bay.

"Rocky?" The shepherd knocked on the door of the green kennel, gently calling out the forbidden name. "You in there?"

For a moment there was only silence in response, and Chase was about to dejectedly turn away when a voice sounded through the door. "What is it, Chase?" The mix was heard from inside, his voice noticeably more upbeat than usual.

Matching the assumed energy, the shepherd wagged his tail, "ah, there you are. I was wondering if you wanted to come into The Lookout with me?"

"Why?"

"Well," Chase paused, glancing to the side as he tapped his paw. "I just thought maybe you'd want to get out of your kennel and… spend some time with me?" He gently smiled at the unfeeling door between them, praying he sounded genuine.

Within the kennel, Rocky was leaning against the door when he spoke again, his voice noticeably harsher. "You know what Chase? Why don't you just go to hell?"

"What?" Said the officer, recoiling in surprise from the sudden insult. His heart could be felt sinking as his mind strained for any possible reason Rocky would be acting this way. "Rocky… are you okay?"

"Honestly? I'm great!" The mix smiled behind the door, remembering his time out with his brother. "I met some good dogs today. Well, just one, but one kind dog is all I need."

"I'm… kind." Chase was starting to feel hurt.

"No you aren't. Everyone in this entire patrol hates my guts, am I not allowed to have even one person care about me? Does me finding a purpose make you angry because you can't tear me down anymore?"

The shepherd struggled to get a word in. "Rocky-"

"So go," Rocky said, verbally shooing him off. "Go solve mysteries, go on your missions, forget about me, I know that's all you ever wanted. I won't be here much longer anyway, now good night."

"Wha-'" Chase stuttered as he tried calling out, but his old friend had already withdrawn from the conversation. In his confusion he barely moved from where he stood until his mind processed the words said to him. A potent sting cut into him, and tears came dangerously close to escaping his eyes. Forcing away the quivering of his own paws, Chase took a deep breath and turned away with a whimper.

Within his kennel, Rocky was feeling great pride unlike he had ever felt in his life. He marched in proud circles around his den, head high in the air as the euphoria of getting one up on those who bullied him filled his veins. His brother's teachings were working, and he'd go back to see him first thing tomorrow.

"And to think I had nothing," Rocky approached the broken mirror in his kennel, gazing into his scattered reflection. Visible in the mirror was a blue leather collar now clipped around his neck. The accessory was a gift from Dakota, and although collars were simple, tiny belts, Rocky couldn't believe he how felt wearing it. The blue leather and shining metal clips filled him with elation, a sense of belonging he had been missing.

"But he's alive, that changes everything." Slowly but surely, the greyed-out world he saw began to regain its color like a vibrant joy awakening from hibernation. "Dakota's right, I don't need them." He smiled at himself, "never will."

Chase went to bed staring at his ceiling a few minutes leader, abandoning his plan to further investigations, at least until tomorrow. His heart ached from Rocky's harsh words, and in flickers his paws clenched in anger. Something was wrong, he had to get through to the mix he cared about, but something was standing in the way. As he drifted off into a sorrowful slumber, he vowed to himself that he would get to the bottom of it, no matter what.