It was a while before Chase finally awakened. A powerful sting lingered on his forehead like a stain, making the shepherd groan as pain oozed from his face. Eyes shut, his face twisted while his mind struggled to clear. He realized quickly he couldn't move: His right paw was stuck, seemingly locked in its position and resisting any attempt to pull away.

"Hmph-" he grunted, breathing steadily while his head continued to ring. An overwhelming soreness dragged down his muscles, making even the smallest movement a world of pain. The medications had done him no favors; they provided a temporary boost of focus, only to curse him with a violent mental crash soon after. His energy was gone.

Clenching his teeth, Chase slowly opened his eyes.

The few scraps of light that crept through the boarded-up window illuminated that of an old public bathroom. Rusted tiles were peeling all over the floor, the walls and ceiling slathered in rot and mildew. The sinks were stained orange, becoming festering dishes for bacteria and disease. Chase's handcuffs had been used against him, keeping his paw firmly chained against an exposed pipe within the wall. Eyes widening in alarm, Chase jumped up and ferociously tried to tug his arm free.

A tired voice floated up from behind a stall. "There's no point in doing that."

Flinching at the voice, Chase whipped around baring his teeth, expecting to see someone behind him. The sight of the ruined bathroom met him yet again, and the shepherd took a fearful step back to the wall. "Who's there? I can't see you!"

"I'm behind the stall, I can't see you either." The voice said again, making Chase tune his ears in its direction. It was coming from one of the toilet stalls, the corroded privacy barriers obscuring the speaker from view.

"Who- who are you?" Chase looked around, still trying to tug his arm out of the cuffs. "Uh… what's your name?"

"You know my name, Chase," the speaker said dryly. "And you've heard my voice thousands of times."

It finally clicked like a light in the shepherd's head. "Zuma!" He exclaimed, "we've been looking for you!"

"Well, you found me. Good fuckin' job." Said the Lab, grumbling as he slouched against the toilet seat.

"Are you handcuffed too?"

"Worse. They tied my tail around a pipe."

Chase winced, imagining the image of his tail forcefully bent and tied around an object. He had to focus, but his mind had been long fogged by his medication intake. Lowering his ears a little, he sat back down on the tile. "Did you take any of my caffeine pills?"

Zuma picked his head up, staring into the wood of the stall "I- what?"

"If you did, do you still have them on you?"

"Chase, I don't touch those things, and of all times to ask that, why now?"

"I had to," the police dog said in disappointment. "I just need one… or two, maybe it'll give me the ability to actually think of a way out of this."

"I really don't think those are good for you." Zuma said with great concern in his voice. It was remarkably the first time Chase had ever heard the Lab speak with such a tone. "How many of those have you been taking anyway?"

"Not enough, I guess." Chase grumbled. "I couldn't afford to lose any more time, I needed the kick."

"Kick in the kidneys maybe. That stuff will slowly kill you."

The police dog sneered at the comment. "If I've consumed something that's going to kill me, it's probably already in my body."

"Chase you can't-" Zuma tried to get up, briefly forgetting that his tail was tied. His body sharply pulled backward, a sting of pain twisting in his lower back. "Chase you can't do that, that stuff is bad news."

"I know the dosage."

"Do you though?" The Lab said, challenging the shepherd. "You're going to build up a tolerance and start taking like ten a day, I don't want to see that happen to you!" He whined, trying to reach out to his friend. "Caffeine is a drug just like any other-"

"Okay! Okay," Chase sharply cut him off with flattened ears. "You've made your point; you done lecturing me?" He leaned his head back on the wall, groaning from the discomfort stewing in his body. The hard tile floor was doing him no favors. "I don't get why you're so bent up about this. I just… really want to get to the bottom of these murders, no matter what it takes."

"And that led you… here?"

"I followed Rocky to that old shack I used to tell stories about." Chase explained tiredly, quickly obscuring the more sensitive details. "I got jumped there."

"Rocky?" Zuma tilted his head, "he's tied up in all this?"

"Unfortunately. As much as I hate to admit it, he has a pretty strong link to everything I know. He may not be the actual killer, but he's definitely involved somehow."

The Labrador stirred in his makeshift prison, wincing as he pulled against his tied tail. "Figures that slut is involved, guess I deserve it though. All I remember is going to bed, then I just kind of… woke up here. I don't even know how much time has passed."

Growing agitated, Chase bit into the chain of the handcuffs, attempting to gnaw through metal. "I went through your kennel," he said, grinding his teeth against the chainlinks. "Found grey fur, signs of a struggle. It was obvious you had been taken, we just didn't know where to look."

"Grey fur?" Zuma repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, well then it's definite." A huff of defeat left his muzzle, the Labrador already resigning to his position.

Dragging his teeth along his restraints, Chase pricked an ear. "Wait… what did you just call him?"

"What?"

"Rocky. What did you just call him earlier?"

"Oh, that." A cold laugh echoed from Zuma. "A slut, Chase." He said, faint amusement in his voice. "A slut did this to me."

His fur standing on end, Chase snapped to Zuma's direction with a stern expression. "He's not a slut, Zuma. Don't call him that."

"Oh no, that's where you're wrong." Zuma's voice picked up slightly. "You're neighbors with the biggest slut in all of Adventure Bay." A sharp laugh bit the air. "I guess it wasn't meant to last, the bitch bit back."

Slowly Chase's teeth dragged off the chain, confusion spreading on his face. Looking back in Zuma's direction, he tilted his head, trying to make sense of the fog in his mind. "What… are you talking about?"

Zuma slumped back against the wall, trailing his paw along the rotted tiles. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"That he's… you know, open. Open for business. A cumsl-"

Chase's bark shot through the air, silencing his partner-in-chains. "Zuma! For God's sake, quit the euphemisms and just tell me!"

"Are you daft?" Zuma bit his reply. "Rocky is always free sex, I've been hitting that for a few weeks now." He shrugged off his words, bending down to clean his paws. "Honestly I thought everyone was doing it, you of all dogs." He chuckled darkly, "guess we all snap one way or the other." Slouching back against the toilet seat, Zuma idly tapped his dull claws on the ground.

After a few seconds of silence, Chase's low disbelief could be heard across the bathroom. "You… you're joking." He said, entire body stiffened with shock. Voice gradually rising, Chase began to shake. "You've been… Zuma… what the hell have you been doing?"

"I just said it." Zuma said dismissively. "Free sex."

"Wha-" Chase blinked, almost not believing the words he was hearing. His blood began to boil, his paws clenching on the hard tile so tightly they turned white under his fur. "Are you… wh- … why!?" His voice broke into a yell, electric panic surging in his veins. "Zuma why- what the fuck is wrong with you!?"

The rising volume made the Lab shrink a little. "Dude, you know me. I take what I deserve, haven't I told you this?"

"Told me!?" Chase snapped, teeth fully bared. "You mean those hours you spent ranting to me about your superiority complex all those nights ago? I just had you written off as a delusional idiot, not a fucking rapist! Zuma, you can't do that to others!"

"Fine, whatever."

"No! No 'whatever!'" The shepherd jumped forward, his arm forcefully jerking backward as the handcuffs went taut. As his blood completely boiled over, Chase was likely mere seconds from tearing through his arm just to mercilessly attack the Labrador. "You've been doing this for weeks!?"

The sound of Chase's restraints pulling tight sent a wave of fear down Zuma's spine, a feeling he quickly hid behind his own bared teeth. "It's not rape if they're whores! It's practically their thing!"

Their voices were bouncing off the walls, a full screaming match ensuing. "Do you even hear yourself?" Chase barked, starting to stand up on his back legs as he fought against his metal leash. "If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to tear you into fucking pieces!"

"Well that's not very legal of you." Zuma bristled, heat rising in his fur. "Looks like we got another crooked cop on our paws."

"You have the gall to lecture me about being crooked when you're a rapist!?"

The coast guard snarled into the air. "Why am I the one on trial here!? You're the one who's taking drugs! You're a fucking addict!"

"I'll kill you!" Chase lunged forward, only for his restraints to quickly jerk him back into place. He twisted in midair and landed roughly on his side, a shot of pain bruising into his jaw. In a fit of rage, the shepherd went completely feral, wildly snapping his jaws and tugging at the chain with all his might. His attempts were fruitless, as the metal still remained intact despite his best efforts. He fought the leash until he tired himself out, the dog collapsing on his side, audibly breathing heavily.

"You done?" Zuma sneered. "You're getting us nowhere."

"I don't… see you helping." The shepherd said with a wheeze.

"What, you want me to bite through my own tail? Fuck off."

Pushing against his weakened muscles, Chase staggered himself back up. His voice had gone frail, shrinking into tired rasps. "Why, Zuma?" His hostility fully exhausted, there was no fire left in the shepherd. "What… possessed you to do these things?" He asked, voice quivering as a deep sting tore into his chest. "How could you?"

It was a moment before Zuma responded. The dog sighed and leaned against the wall of his prison, seemingly staring into the yellowed ceiling. Contemplation flickered in his eyes, as Zuma's head played every signature memory he had ever experienced. "I guess I just… wanted more." He said, uncertain with himself. "I'm always here, yet Ryder never needed me for anything. This whole island is surrounded by water, yet I'm useless." Venom briefly flicked off his tongue, only it subsided quickly. "I felt… wronged, I guess? I don't really know, every single mission I was never allowed to do anything. I had no freedom, which is a strange thing to say as a dog." He let his head fall to the side, gazing into his reflection on the tiles. "I'm sorry I… I don't really know how to explain this."

"We've had you on missions though," Chase said as he listened, his heart bleeding from the feeling of betrayal. Zuma's voice would never sound the same to him again. "It's not like we… excluded you."

"It was enough, Chase." Zuma was grateful his friend couldn't see him, less it would expose the shameful look on his face. "It was always you or Skye; the golden dogs, the ones with all the authority and recognition…" His body deflated slightly, a spiral of hopelessness surrounding the Labrador. "I just wanted my own authority… my own freedom to take control and make other dogs do what I want."

"Dogs? As in plural?" Chase repeated, "you've done this to others besides Rocky?"

"Most stays I find on the streets. They'll do anything for a bite to eat."

Both dogs went silent as the air in the room turned somber. The anger had subsided, and all that remained were two husks that hardly resembled dogs. Time passed by for what felt like hours, Chase sitting with his head bowed and Zuma slouched against the wall.

The clinking of a metal lock alerted both dogs, spiking their attention and making them jump up. Chase looked up in a flash as his ears shot up, his eyes honing in on the metal door of the bathroom. A rustle of metal tickled against the lock, then a heavy object dropped to the floor outside. Zuma leaned down and peered under the stall wall, Chase still sitting sharply in anticipation. The door opened slowly, scratching against the floor with a groaning creak of its jaw. A third dog trudged into the room, small and stinking of shame.

"Rocky!" Chase recognized his lover, quickly fighting against his shackles again. Zuma had spotted the mix as well, but he said nothing.

The mix walked through the bathroom, his eyes low and refusing to meet the gaze of anyone. His entire posture sagged, a resigned exhaustion emitting from the mix. Aimlessly keeping his vision on Chase's paws, Rocky spoke softly. "Hey… Chase."

"I'm so glad you're-" Chase sharply tugged against his chain, once again to no avail. "You're okay!" His tail wagged like no tomorrow, his full pallet of energy returning in a flash. "Wait, are you okay?" He stopped, eyes widening. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"He?" Zuma spoke up. "Who are we talking about here?"

Idly sweeping his paw along the ground, Rocky still refused to meet Chase's eyes. "No he… he didn't."

"Look, you gotta get us out of here!" The shepherd said, pleading to his partner. "Whatever he told you, it's not true!"

"Is it?" Rocky looked up finally, meeting the officer with an unamused expression. "Because until now, everything he's told me has come true." Eyes narrowing, Rocky stuck his paw into Chase's chest, making the shepherd flinch in surprise. "Dakota has taught me more than the PAW Patrol ever will, and he's right! He's right, Chase. About everything!" He barked, fur bristling. "Strays and mutts have always been mud under society's feet, and don't you try to convince me otherwise!"

"What?" Chase shook his head, taking a further step back. "Rocky, even if that is true, Dakota is a self-fulfilling prophecy! Every life he takes only further proves what everyone believes! You're only digging yourself into a bigger hole!"

"He has a plan, he always does." Rocky turned his head away, deflecting his lover's words. "I trusted him then, and I trust him now. He was the only dog who ever gave a damn about me back then, before any of you!"

The words cut Chase deep, a visible jolt going through his body. "Rocky, Dakota has been taking lives left and right, you can't tell me that's something you idolize!"

"Maybe I don't, but it's more about the bigger scheme of things."

"And what's that?"

Tapping his paws on the tile, Rocky looked aside for a moment, having a silent debate with himself. Watching him closely with a hardened gaze, Chase couldn't decide whether he wanted to hug the mix tightly or smack him.

"The final target." Rocky said, coldness in his voice. "That's all I know, Dakota hasn't told me who it is."

Chase raised an eyebrow at him. "Sounds like he doesn't fully trust you."

Like a shot of anger, the mix quickly flattened in rage. "Of course he trusts me! Why else would he take me through all this? Why else would he include me, giving me the life I never got to have with any of you!?"

Fed up with the ramblings, Chase snarled directly into the mix's face. "You fucking idiot! Don't you understand that I want a life with you!?" Taken off guard, Rocky went quiet as his attention snapped forward. The shepherd seized his advantage almost instantly. "I don't want us to be in a one-night stand!" He argued, baring his fangs at the mix. "I want us to be…" Stumbling over himself, he desperately tried to find his wording. "Together! I want to be with you! You're so wrapped up in your own head that you can't see that Dakota is trying to turn you into himself!"

Twisting his expression, Rocky's fur stood on one end. "Oh so that's how it is, huh?" A growl bled through his lips, although his voice could be heard shaking. "I can't have a family? I'm not allowed to keep the last remaining piece of lineage?!"

Zuma yelled into the argument. "What you call family is a fucking murderer!"

Rocky couldn't even turn around to address Zuma's insult, as the shepherd continued to drill into him. "Is that what you want to become!?" Chase demanded, "are you going to become a killer like him?!"

His lips curling, Rocky began to boil as fierce rage built up within him. Chase stood his ground, bracing himself for the incoming dogfight. He had never seen Rocky this angry before, a sight that almost unnerved him the more he observed. Zuma was entranced, anticipating an explosion of teeth and claws. The shepherd and mixed breed stood against one another in opposition, a threatening aura surrounding the room.

Until, in a single moment, it all subsided. Starting to choke into gentle sobs, Rocky broke down. "I just…" He stuttered, wet streaks forming down his cheeks. "I just want… my family back. I want my mom, my dad," he collapsed onto his rear, left to Chase's mercy. "Dakota is all I have… he's all I ever had." Through his uncontrollable cries, he gingerly looked up at his lover. "But… I don't want to… lose you too." He said with a broken voice. "I… I love you."

As emotion spilled from the dog, Chase could his own anger abating. His claws returned into his skin, fur smoothened back to normal, and a deep sting cut into his heart. His arms pleaded to stretch forward and embrace his lover, a feeling nearly strong enough to snap through the handcuffs keeping him in place.

"What am I supposed to do!?" Rocky cried, sporadically gasping for air. "Why can't I just have you and Dakota? Why can't we all just be…" he choked over himself. "Why can't we all just be happy? Why are you making me choose?!" A fit of anger flickered in him, just long enough for a sharp glare to break through his tears. "I hate you for that… I… I hate that you're making me do this!"

Lowering his head in shame, Chase softly spoke with what little voice he had left. "I… I know. I hate myself too," he confessed. "I'm sorry."

"No I- I shouldn't say that," Rocky wiped his eyes quickly. "I'm sorry I… I'm just projecting. I don't know what to do anymore." Pausing for a moment, his eyes trailed to Chase's restraints. "It's- it's my fault you're in this mess."

Reaching his paw out, Chase leaned in a little. "Did you… did you ever actually know what Dakota was doing?"

His question hung in the air like a dark cloud, looming over Rocky as he looked to the floor. The mix slowly brought a paw to his neck and unclipped the collar he wore, holding it out in front of him. "This collar belonged to one of the victims," Rocky said with a wince. "I think… deep down, I probably always knew. Just didn't want to admit it."

"What's done is done." The shepherd said reassuringly. "What matters now, is getting out of here. Can you help us?"

Shaking his head, Rocky's face fell with disdain. "I can't do much, not without going behind his back."

The shepherd could only nod in quiet understanding, a deep sigh leaving him. Unable to contain himself any longer, Rocky leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Chase, clinging to him tightly. The office returned the hug, sealing their emotions for one another. Tightly squeezing Rocky, Chase nuzzled into his grey fur. "Love you too." From a couple feet away, Zuma heard the entire thing unfold with a puzzled expression. The more he listened, the more he stared in confusion.

"I'm sorry it all came to this," Rocky softly pulled away. Reaching down, he placed his paw around Chase's. They held eye contact for a few seconds, and Chase suddenly felt something small drop into his paw, an object so subtle he almost missed it. Rocky gave Chase's paw a squeeze before getting up. They looked at each other for a long moment, sorrowful emotion in their eyes, then Rocky dejectedly turned away to leave the room.

Chase watched him go longingly, not taking his eyes off the mix until his tail fully disappeared around the room.

"So," Zuma spoke up. "You wanna tell what the hell that was?"

The shepherd gave a soft exhale, his heart fluttering. "Was… what?"

"Don't play coy, you idiot. Of all dogs to love," the Lab said with grimace. "Why him?"

"Like you could ever understand," Chase waved him off. The gentle frame of a metal object was still pressing against his pads. Looking down, he held out his paw to see what had been placed in it.

It was a key. Rocky had secretly slipped him a way out.

"Because," Chase said to Zuma, turning back to where his arm was restrained in the handcuffs. "If you love someone, listen to them, and help them," he picked up the key in his teeth, taking immense care not to drop it. "They'll do the same for you."

The other dog was unconvinced. "But, Rocky? I always thought you had a thing for Skye… or maybe Marshall."

"I guess that's just how things happen," Chase slipped the key into the tiny slot on the cuffs. It fit like a glove. "And for the record, Zuma, true love doesn't involve hurting the other person. And if you've convinced them that hurting is somehow love," he flashed a glare in Zuma's direction. "Then you've already broken them to an unforgivable state." Sharply twisting his head, the lock clicked open, and Chase's arm was released from the hold.

He was free.

The first thing Chase did was shake himself off, stretching away the aching soreness in his muscles. Chest puffed out proudly, the shepherd took his first steps in the bathroom, crossing over the floor and emerging before Zuma in the stall.

"Woah-" Zuma jumped, taken aback at his friend's sudden appearance. "How did you- how did you get out?"

The officer looked aside for a moment, and merely gave Zuma an uninterested look. "Just did, I guess. I'm gonna go find Rocky." He turned and walked to the door.

"Wait! Can you get me out too?"

"You?" Chase stopped, looking back. "Your tail is tied."

"Well yeah, but if you got out of the cuffs, you can somehow get me out of this, can't you?"

So that was how it was. Chase had to physically stop his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. Clearly Rocky wasn't the only dog being exploited in the PAW Patrol. "Well there's a broken mirror over there, so I'll give you a choice." He peeked back into Zuma's stall. "Either I take one of those shards and cut your tail off," he hissed. "Or, you stay here and think about all the shit you did. When this is all over, I'll call Marshall to come pick you up."

The mental image of sacrificing his tail sent a quake down Zuma's spine. "Ch- Chase you can't just leave me here!"

"Do you want to lose your tail?"

"I mean… no."

"Then shut up and stay put." The shepherd said, frustrated the conversation was lasting any longer. "I'm not leaving Rocky to that monster… I'm going for him." Abandoning the Labrador to his sins, Chase ran out of the room. Time was running out, but the world had become small and meaningless without his mixed breed beside him. He was getting Rocky back, no matter what he had to do.