Zuma woke up slowly. Every movement was hindered by strong, sticky strands of sleep that tugged him back down. He shook them off and flexed his sore muscles, wincing. He sat up shook his head, trying to remember what had happened to him. He looked down at his chest and forelegs, confused. White cloth bandages were wrapped around his rib cage and trailed all the way down to his paws.
"What...?" He staggered to the side and roughly bumped into a wall. The shock jarred his body and made him yelp in pain.
Immediately, there was a rustling sound a few feet away from him. "Zuma? Are you awake?" Marshall's voice was instantly recognized.
"Marshall? What... what happened?" He squinted a little as a soft light turned on overhead. When he opened them Marshall was at his side.
"You're... awake..." Marshall breathed the words out in disbelief. "You're really awake!"
"What do you mean? Why the... shock?" Zuma tottered to the side and gasped painfully.
This seemed to bring Marshall back down to earth. "You should lay down, Zuma; you shouldn't be up yet." Marshall cautioned, gently nudging him toward a large, plushy circle a few feet away from him. Zuma wordlessly obeyed and curled up, flicking his tail. Marshall sat down beside him and sighed.
"You were hurt pretty... badly." He began hesitantly. "Do you remember any of it?"
"Any of what?" Zuma mumbled. "The only thing I remember is waking up here."
"You were badly shot, Zuma. Multiple times." Marshall bit his lip. "When you got back here, you were riddled with bullets, had a fractured tibia, four broken ribs... and extensive nerve and organ damage." Marshall's voice faltered, and he hurriedly rubbed a tear out of his eye. "You barely had any blood left. We managed to give you a blood transplant... but not before you died twice on the operating table. You scared the hell out of all of us."
"When... When was this?" Zuma asked, numb with shock.
"Almost a week ago, now." Marshall's voice trembled again. "It was... uhhh..." He hit his head, squirting his eyes shut. "Severe hypoxia. Your brain was without blood for eight minutes, Zuma. You went comatose after one." Marshall took a deep breath to collect himself, slipping back into his professional role as a doctor. "I'm glad you survived, Zuma. How do you feel?"
"Well... everything hurts... a lot." He whined. "And my head feels foggy. I can't think straight..." He blinked his eyes and squinted. "...or see straight either."
"You are going to have some delirium for a while, Zuma. While your brain repairs itself, some things aren't going to make sense. I am tentatively hopeful that this will pass when you get completely better." Marshall said, opening a drawer on the wall and rummaging through it with his paws. "If you get better." He mumbled the last part under his breath.
Zuma sank onto his chest, his mind reeling.
"With one being the lowest and ten being the highest, how would you..."
"Rate my pain? Ten. Absolutely ten." Zuma responded immediately.
Marshall closed the drawer and turned back to Zuma. Between his teeth he held a small needle with a clear liquid inside it. He set it down beside Zuma.
"What's that?" He asked, flinching away from the needle, alarm flashing in his eyes.
"It's morphine. It'll alleviate your pain. I must warn you though," Marshall motioned for Zuma to stretch out his forearm. "It'll take longer for your delirium to wear off." He picked up the needle.
Zuma shut his eyes as hard as he could, tensing his body up. "I don't care... Just make it stop!" Please don't stab me, please don't stab me, please don't..."
"You can open your eyes now." Marshall said a moment later.
"What? It's over?" Zuma peeked an eye open. Marshall was putting an orange bandage with an anchor on it over his arm.
"Yep! Good job." Marshall ruffled his head fur playfully. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Zuma opened his mouth to protest, but yawned instead. A warm, fuzzy feeling was creeping through his body, and his pain simply melted away.
"Do you want to see Rocky or just rest right now?"
Zuma's head shot up. "I forgot about him! Is he okay? Did he get hurt too?"
"He was a little banged up, but he only needed a bath and a few stitches. He's been visiting you everyday for hours."
"Can you get him, please?" Zuma asked, kneading his paws.
"Of course." Marshall turned around and padded to the doorway, opening the door and vanishing into the night.
Zuma closed his eyes and tucked his nose under his forepaws. What happened to us? We were going home and I was talking to Rocky then... something... Something important happened.
A faint scuffling noise broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up quickly.
"It's just me." A soft, comforting voice rang in his ears. Rocky emerged for the darkness and appeared beside his bed.
"Hi, Wocky..." Zuma replied, his words a little slurred. He placed both paws on Rocky's muzzle and kissed him on his nose.
"Hi~" Rocky's voice broke. "Hi, my love. How... how are you feeling?"
"Like I've been turned inside-out. Ma-Marshall gavemesome mor-morphine..." The string of words tumbled out his mouth. "... and I feel better now."
"That's... that's good." Rocky said, each word filled with pain.
"Don't... worry... I'm safe with you... now." Zuma breathed, rubbing his snout lovingly. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in Rocky's scent. Some empty place in his heart was suddenly filled, and liquid lightning courses through his veins alongside the morphine.
At some point, Zuma ceased to hear Rocky's voice, and only heard the sound of his heartbeat, the sound of his breathing. He nuzzled Rocky's chest lightly, then tugged at his foreleg.
"Come lay beside me." He whispered.
"Zuma... I can't..." Rocky stuttered, his voice heavy.
"Yes you can..." Zuma replied, licking his neck. "I won't bite." And that was all it took. A moment later, Zuma could feel Rocky's fur brushing against his side, carefully not to hurt him further.
Zuma tucked his muzzle under Rocky's forearm and yawned, growing quiet and still. Rocky silently licked the top of his head in rhythm with Zuma's breaths.
"I love you, Rocky..."
Normally Rocky enjoyed watching Zuma sleep. He didn't do it too often, but he liked the responsibility of looking after and protecting Zuma while he was most vulnerable. It made him feel stronger than ever before, powerful, special.
But as the hours wore on, every time Rocky glanced down he felt sick to his stomach. Shame and guilt washed over him even more strongly than when he heard Zuma probably wouldn't wake up again.
"Zuma doesn't remember anything about that day, Rocky, so be careful what you say. Certain words or looks or even expressions you make can trigger his memory." Marshall had told him. "I think it's best if he can't remember how much trauma he was put through, at least for now."
Rocky would've loved nothing more than for Zuma's memory of that day to completely vanish. Then he couldn't remember what I did... how I left him to die...
But Rocky couldn't get behind not telling him. It's... it's not really lying but... I feel so dishonest. I- I did this to him, he deserves to know. He deserves to know that I failed him when he needed me the most.
Except... Rocky was too afraid to tell him the truth either. He'd be so mad! And sad and disappointed. He'd feel hurt and betrayed and... I don't think I could take it. Not from him. But if he finds out on his own, it'll be even worse.
Rocky whined, high-pitched and mournful, before glancing down at Zuma's sleeping figure again. "What should I do, buddy?" He whispered. His gaze drifted to the door. Dawn light was seeping in between the cracks. The day is almost here.
As if on cue, Zuma yawned and blinked open his eyes. "Morning, Wocky." He murmured sleepily, touching his nose to Rocky's cheek.
"Hi." Rocky replied tersely, without looking at him. Zuma drew away and fixed Rocky with a questioning look.
Rocky immediately gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well last night."
"Something on your mind?" Zuma asked innocently.
Rocky stared at his paws for a long time, then gave a small nod. "There's something I need to tell you. Just... not right now." He finished lamely.
"That's okay." Zuma replied, respecting his feelings. "Just speak when you are ready."
Rocky looked at him and smiled weakly. "Thanks." He croaked, clearing his throat.
The door suddenly opened, and Marshall stuck his head in. 'Hi, guys! I hope you slept well." He walked inside and handed a plastic bottle to Zuma. "I was just going to get your painkillers. You are going to take two of these twice a day, in the morning and at night. I must warn you, these may make you a little less... how do I put this... present? But you should be fine."
"Honestly, Marshall, I feel fine wight now." Zuma complained.
"I give you enough morphine to sleep through the night, but it'll wear off soon. In a few hours you'll be in excruciating pain if you don't take these now." Marshall's voice was gentle, yet firm. "Come on, doctor's orders. Besides, they taste like candy."
"Oh, really?" Zuma snapped the top off and shook two small white circles into his paw. "Say less!"
Rocky kissed Zuma's head, then motioned for Marshall to join him off to the side. "Is he really okay? I don't understand how he can be healed already, you saw what he looked like."
"I need to give him an ex-ray and a couple of other scans, but he seems... normal." Marshall spoke softly. "His bones seem to be healed, and aside from forgetting his accident, his brain appears to be working just fine. He's just in a lot of pain."
"If he's fine, then why is he in pain at all?" Rocky snapped.
"What are whispering about? I'm right here, y'know." Zuma said dryly.
Marshall glanced at Rocky furtively, then turned back to Zuma. "There's something I need to tell you about your miraculous recovery. While it's truly a miracle you're still cognizant, your body hasn't actually recovered."
"Wha..." Zuma shook his head. "Huh?"
"I did a full body work-up on you a few days ago. Prognosis for most of your vital organs was... not good. Your skeletal structure was just as bad. And there's no way that healed overnight, as it were."
"But I feel... fine." Zuma whispered, somewhere between confusion and fear.
"What are you trying to say, Marshall?" Rocky barked, looking slightly apprehensive.
"I believe Zuma's powers fused with his physical body in order to keep him alive." Marshall stated bluntly. "I didn't save his life... He did. That's why you're in so much pain with no apparent injury."
"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" Rocky asked.
"Well, to begin with, I don't know how long the fusion will last. Just until his organs are strong enough to sustain him? Until he heals completely? I don't know. Secondly, this means he can't use his powers. For any reason."
Zuma looked like he'd been gut punched. "What?" He had a short coughing spasm, then spoke more strongly. "But I can't do that! Not now!"
"It's not an option, okay? You're using all your energy to pull this off. But if you draw on your powers, you'll weaken and potentially shatter the fusion that's keeping you alive, then you'll die." Marshall's retort was instant. "I know you don't like looking helpless or weak or whatever, but right now, I don't really care! So get rid of whatever idea you have in your mind right now about just pushing through and making it work because you can't. Make it. Work."
Rocky glanced at Marshall, shock glittering in his eyes. Zuma just hung his head. Marshall looked away.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that." He mumbled a little later. "I was just... you really scared me, Zuma."
Zuma nodded his head and continued to stare at his paws.
"Ummm... I... " After his outburst, Marshall found it hard to compose himself. "As I said, I can't help you anym... I mean, there's nothing more I can do for you right now. You'll have to finish healing on your own. Err... just keep taking your medicine and you should feel fine. Rest a lot. Don't do anything too strenuous. Ummm... I think that's it." He cleared his throat.
"Hey uh, thanks for all your help, Marshall." Rocky nudged Zuma's flank with his nose. "Zuma and I are gonna go get something to eat."
"Yeah, sure." Marshall stepped out the way as the two walked past him, out the door.
"I'm not hungry." Zuma mumbled, almost inaudible to Rocky's super sharp hearing.
"Well, I'm sure everyone will still wanna see you. You could say least go say hi."
"You know what, Wocky? I just... wanna be alone right now." Zuma looked up into Rocky's eyes and attempted a smile. It almost worked.
"Okay, okay. I'll make sure everyone leaves you alone." Rocky gave him a warm hug, then kissed his nose. "Hey, you're gonna be fine. But if you ever wanna talk about anything... I got you."
"Thanks, Rocky." Zuma gave him a quick peck on the cheek and turned around. He headed for his own puphouse, tail dragging on the concrete. Rocky watched him go sadly.
What have I done?
Every minute dragged by maddeningly slowly after that. After staring at Zuma's puphouse for a while, Rocky turned towards his workshop. Previously it was the garage, but he'd modified it so he could truly build the technology he needed.
The psychic disruper, as he was calling it, was a lot more complicated to build than even he'd anticipated. Messing with brainwaves was dangerous. Scramble them up too much and you could permanently rewrite your brain.
But I can't afford to make the waves too weak... then we'll be left vulnerable to another one of Jason's attacks... sigh... he's gotten so much stronger.
It was already a hard enough task. It was impossible now that Rocky couldn't concentrate on it. He'd tried telling himself it wasn't his fault, that he done all he could to protect his best friend.
But deep down inside, he knew it was a lie.
The truth was, he hadn't changed as much as he thought he had.
He thought enough had been taken from him to harden his heart. He thought he could hurt and even kill others to protect himself and the ones he loved. But when his resolve was tested, he found his will too weak and his heart too big.
So he'd just given up. To escape the guilt of causing a wholesale massacre, he'd surrendered himself and left Zuma with no one, even going so far as to make deals with his enemies for his life.
It was so stupid, so foolish, and so naive that Rocky was ashamed he'd ever let himself be tricked like that. Not only did he almost sentence his boyfriend to death, he'd still killed everyone: but not in defense, in pure rage.
He'd been so caught up in his feelings at the time, he'd forgotten what he'd done. But as time passed, he could remember more and more of that day.
Rocky shut his eyes and balled his paws up, fighting to stop the invasive memories. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to know.
"Rocky?"
He quicky rubbed his eyes and regained his composure. "What do you want, Chase?" His words were little more than a sigh.
"I'm... just making sure you're okay." The police pup started.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Rocky questioned, already annoyed. I don't have time for this...
"We all thought you just needed a little space to process after you and Zuma being attacked. Especially with how close he is to you..."
"Does this have a point?" Rocky snapped. Chase had hit two sensitive spots already.
"You're too distant, Rocky." Chase mumbled. "You haven't talked to any of us since you got back, and you spend all your time to yourself. You don't even eat with us."
"That's it?" Rocky's voice reverberated with cold fury. "You're wasting my time to tell me you're upset I don't eat with you?"
"We're just scared we're losing you." Chase looked into his eyes unflinchingly.
"That's. Irrelevant." The mix couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Since your priorities are obviously misplaced, let me tell you mine! I've been fighting the monster that ruined my life for the entirety of it! So what do you think is more important to me? Frivolously spending my time socializing, or working on ways to keep us safe?"
Chase lowerd his head slightly. "Oh, Rocky... what happened to you? I miss... I miss you..." He turned around and padded away, dejected.
As soon as Chase was out of sight, Rocky slumped to the floor, his outburst robbing all his strength.
What happened to you? The words echoed softly in his head over and over again. Rocky had always known he'd changed, but it was only when Chase
asked him that he's thought about how much.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but that didn't stop the tears. Memories from his early days as a part of the Paw Patrol filled his head. Those had been the best days of his life.
He'd gone on so many adventures, and even when he wasn't needed (which was rather often) he'd always felt safe, accepted, and loved.
As he searched his heart now, he realized he no longer felt those things anymore here. His friends... he no longer felt close to them. He no longer cared about the island. He didn't even care too much about human life, much less his own.
He'd pretty well given up on having a good life for himself. Now his only goal was to keep Zuma safe and give him the best life he could. Now he wondered if that had been a mistake.
In the back of his mind he knew it wasn't true, but he found that hard to accept right now.
Rocky curled up on the floor, fighting to control his thoughts. Once he began spiraling downward, it was very hard for him to stop. Softly, slowly, he began crying, hiding his muzzle under his chest.
Rocky felt his presence before he heard his voice.
"What's going on, Wocky?" For the second time that day, Rocky hadn't noticed who was coming and going. I'm slipping... He thought.
Rocky didn't respond. He didn't look up though he knew Zuma was standing over him. He just prayed his boyfriend would get the hint and go away.
Instead, he felt a paw prodding his side. "Rocky." Zuma repeated, a note of anxiety in his voice. "Are you okay?"
Goddamnit.
Rocky sighed internally and slowly pushed himself to his paws, hunching his shoulders. "You're the one who isn't okay." He replied. "And the worst part is, it's all my fault."
"Enough of that, Rocky." Zuma snapped. "Everything is not your fault."
"Oh, but it is." Rocky laughed mirthlessly. "But that's just my destiny, isn't it?"
Zuma shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I know." Rocky sighed. "But I do. And now I can't even look you in the eyes."
Zuma looked more concerned by now. "Well... I'm sorry you feel guilty for whatever it is this time. But maybe you can fill me in on what happened so you don't feel so bad anymore?"
Rocky lowered his head silently, trembling like a leaf. Eventually he reached out for Zuma's paw and squeezed it tightly. "I didn't listen to you. You... wanted me to stay with you... wanted to find another way... and I chose for us."
He suddenly looked into Zuma's eyes. Three concentric circles appeared just around his pupils, and Zuma found himself frozen in place.
"Don't you remember?"
Zuma felt a stab of pain flash through his eyes, and he yelped, putting his paws over them and shaking his head. Suddenly, the memories from that night came rushing back.
The wind buffeted his fur, the whirring of the helicopter blades making it almost impossible to hear. Rocky was talking to him, but he was only half listening. Please...! Don't go... don't leave!
"I'm tired of running, Zuma. I have to fix this."
Zuma shook his head, but no words would come from his mouth. What... what is he doing? Why won't he listen? Is he just giving up?!
He looked up at Rocky and noticed he was looking elsewhere. He followed his gaze to the semicircle of men advancing on them. Rocky was saying something to them.
"I won't fight you. On one condition..." He turned and looked at Zuma. The lab shook his head, guessing where this was going.
"Sorry, buddy." Rocky murmured, turning back.
"I want you to leave him alone. He has nothing to do with what I've done. He only came with me because he's my friend, and a very good one at that. He won't fight you either, and he won't come after me. Just please, let him go, and I'll make this easy on everyone~"
Uncharacteristic fear seized Zuma. The thought of Rocky sacrificing himself to save him was unbearable. "What?! No, no, Wocky, don't make me leave you! I'll get scawed!" Zuma begged. He clung unto Rocky more tightly. Can't you see I don't want you to go?
The vision broke suddenly, and Zuma sat down hard on his butt. "You... left me." His voice trembled, heartbroken. "You just... left."
"Zuma..." Rocky stopped. There was nothing to say.
"I was so scared... and you left me..."
Zuma stared straight ahead, and another flash of pain burned behind his eyes.
He was all alone. In the middle of the field, watching his beloved being taken away. Why, Rocky? Why don't you listen?! How could you just... leave me here?
Zuma watched as Rocky was lifted up and away, disappearing into the helicopter above. He shook his head and slowly backed away, shook slowing his every movement.
Suddenly, the spotlights swung, catching him in their glare. He shielded his eyes with a paw. What... what's going on?
A moment later, pain everywhere. He felt as if his entire body had been shredded from the inside out. White pain coursed through him, and he fell to the ground, to hurt even to scream. In that moment, he just wished for death. He forced his eyes open and immediately wished he hadn't. He was laying in a frighteningly large puddle of blood. It was all over his body, weighing his fur down and making him feel hot and sticky.
And the pain. The eternal, never ending pain. Every second felt like a year, every minute a century. It was a fate worse than death, his own healing powers delaying his death and keeping him suspended in eternal torture.
And then everything went black.
The whole vision took less than a minute, but Zuma felt like he'd relived the whole thing. Tears streamed down his snout, but he remained silent. Emotions raged beneath him, all pulling in different directions.
"Zuma...? Are you... okay?" He felt a paw rest on his shoulder.
That did it.
Anger suddenly won out, and Zuma whipped his head up and smacked Rocky's paw off him as hard as he could.
"Get the hell off of me!" He barked, glaring at Rocky with murder in his eyes. Before he knew what he was doing, his paw flashed out, slashing the side of Rocky's face with his claws.
Rocky yelped more from surprise than pain and started back, clutching at his check with his paw. Blood trickled between his toes and dripped onto the hard, ceramic floor.
"Don't act like you care if I'm okay or not! You left me when I needed you the most, when I needed you to stay! You got tired of fighting so you just gave up; I don't care what your reason was! You know that as well as I do." Zuma slammed his bloodied paw onto the ground.
"I...I-I..."
"Shut up, Rocky! I don't wanna hear it. You always do this! You make all the hard decisions for us and ignore what I want! You have this sacrificial lamb complex in your mind, except this time you sacrificed me! And for what?!" Zuma roughly shoved Rocky against the floor.
Rocky slid back and looked up with wide, frightened eyes. His body was trembling like a leaf and his thoughts were racing.
"You acted like a coward and made me pay the price for it." Zuma stood over his boyfriend and looked down on him disdainfully. "You'd better stop making these decisions for us and start listening to me, or there won't be an us for you to make decisions for!" He bent his neck almost to where their noses were touching. "Got that?"
Rocky flattened his ears in fear. Zuma's eyes showed none of their usual trust and love. Nothing but anger was left in his eyes, and that scared Rocky the most. And then, for a brief moment, his expression changed, as if he'd dropped the mask he'd put over his face,
Sadness and pain and heartbreak and betrayal glittered in his eyes, so strong it almost stopped Rocky's heart. His eyes were almost pleading, begging Rocky to tell him it wasn't true.
And the moment was over, and the full force of his anger came back. Rocky nodded his head quickly. "Y-yes..." He forced the word out.
"Good." Zuma's voice was icy now, and he pushed off of Rocky and backed away. "Don't forget it." He turned around and stalked away, heading towards the door.
Rocky scrambled to his paws and watched him go, hesitantly lifting a paw, wondering whether to go after him or not.
"Stay." Zuma snapped without turning his head. "Leave me alone."
Rocky started from fear and hastily took a step back, instantly obeying the command. "Z-Zuma..." He stuttered, before his boyfriend disappeared. "You... you still love me...right?"
Zuma stopped for a moment. He turned his head slightly, so only one eye was visible. "I don't know how to answer that right now. It's complicated." And then he was gone.
Rocky shook his head. "No... no..." He whispered. He stepped back farther and farther until he bumped into the wall. He slid down lifelessly, hindlegs splayed out. Hot tears ran down his cheeks, and the claw marks on his left burned like fire. He hung his head and stared at the floor between his legs until it became so blurry he just shut his eyes tight. "Zuma... not you too!" He cried.
Every heartbeat was a knife to the chest. Every breath was a stab in the back. Rocky began doing the one thing he was sure he'd never have to do: Imagine a life without Zuma.
He thought he was strong enough to handle anything. He thought all the pain he's been through had made him strong. He thought life would be better ever since escaping from Jason. But now...
Ever since he'd escaped, he'd been in more pain and fear than he'd ever remembered. Always fighting, always running, always trying to protect what he loved. And little by little, it was all being stripped away. His friends, his family, even his best friend... he'd managed to ostracize himself from all of them.
In that moment he realized that if he lost Zuma, then his life no longer had purpose or meaning.
"What was the point in ever running away?" Rocky whispered. "In truth, I never left. I just brought everyone with me."
And that's when his mind broke.