AN: Be warned, this chapter contains a violent flashback. These flashbacks will NOT show blood (trying to keep it as PG as possible), as I love Zuma as a character and I ain't that cruel. However, the flashbacks will be my interpretations of Zuma's characteristics and mannerisms throughout this story. Chase x Skye may get a few references, and I may end up shipping Zuma with someone by the end of it all, lol. With my incessant babbling out of the way, I give you the second chapter of this story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Paw Patrol, just the OCs in it

The trip in the Air Patroller had begun. It was a little boring at first, but Rubble bringing out his boom box brought the mood to an all-time high. Chase and Skye had begun a competitive dance against each other, to which Rubble gave teasing glances. Marshall, being the klutz that he was, accidentally tripped and face-planted directly into Zuma, and they both toppled back.

"Ugh... sorry, Zuma."

"You're good, dude. No hawm d... harm done."

"Ohh, someone's got their voice back," teased the dalmatian.

"No! I'm gwowing... ugh, growing out of it."

"You'll get there, bud," said Marshall as he gave his friend a brotherly pat on the shoulder before continuing to clumsily dance with his friends.

Zuma's friends had always given him harmless jokes and teases about his descending speech impairment, but he never once enjoyed the way he spoke. Especially when his brothers bullied him back when he was the runt of his litter.

The small, silver jet hovered above the Air Patroller, just out of a camera's view. The pilot, Sweetie, watched every little movement that the Air Patroller made. The terrier used an x-ray mode to scope out the pups, seeing which one she would use for the plan.

"Chase? Too... ugh. Marshall? Stupid. Rubble? What a slob! Skye? Oh, don't get me started. Rocky? No, he's actually a little bright. Now, the chocolate one. Zuba? Zoomer? Oh, he's perfect! They'll never notice, Busby."

Sweetie's frog-knight toy squeaked in approval.

"We're nearly there. Better descend before Mr. Perfect suspects us."

Sweetie then put her jet into a lightly visible mode before zipping past and landing into a secret passage in the castle, near her royal playpen.

"Hey, you guys hear something?" asked Ryder.

"Probably just turbulence," shrugged Chase.

When Ryder and the pups arrived, they were greeted by an enthusiastic Princess.

"Oh, the PAW Patrol has arrived! Thank you, Ryder and pups. You've come just in time!"

Sweetie came out, her flight suit now gone and her small tiara on her head.

"Oh, dear! Look, the PAW Patrol! What a treat," said the Terrier in the most unenthusiastic and sarcastic tone ever. Chase rolled his eyes, huffing slightly.

If I have to spend one second near her, and I mean ONE second, I just may get sick.

The Princess and the Earl lead the team to a dungeon, at an altar with a stone-sized hole on its side.

"As I've told you, the Krystal is missing," said the Princess. "There is only one witness. My royal pet, Sweetie."

The said Terrier gave a mischievous smile and bowed slightly. "I did all I could have to help."

Yeah, to help the robber, thought Chase.

"Can you give a description?" asked Rocky.

"Oh, a well-used shampoo and a bath a day keeps my gorgeous look, and l-"

"About the thief," interrupted Chase in an impatient tone.

"No need for aggression. The thief was most definitely a pup. A male one. He wore this knight helmet. And he had these pointy ears. Big, ugly ears, just like the ones Brownie here has," said Sweetie as she motioned towards Chase.

Chase tried incredibly hard to hold back a growl. "Now, see here! I-"

"All right, so ends the first investigation!" announced the Princess, fearing a fight would soon break out. "You'll all be given sleeping quarters for the night. After a royal dinner."

If looks could kill, a Terrier and a Shepherd would be dead.

After making way towards the kitchens, the group was given seats at a large table. Chase, Skye and Rubble sat at one side, with Zuma, Marshall and Rocky on the other. Ryder sat at the head of the table, striking up conversation with the Princess. Sweetie just ate from her golden bowl and blew a raspberry at the pups before sneaking off to her playpen.

Zuma broke the silence among the six. "So Chase, any thoughts?"

"Tie her down, go for the jugular, leave her to d-"

"I mean about the suspect."

"Oh, of course! I still think it's Whitey."

"Buddy, I don't think it's her," said a concerned Marshall.

"I think it's Claw," Rocky announced out of nowhere. An awkward silence ensued.

"Claw. The pup knight! Come on, guys."

"You think Claw's the suspect?" asked Skye.

"Well, sure! Just think about Sweetie's descriptions for a second."

Chase almost slapped himself for not even considering it.

Suddenly, an idea struck Zuma like a bolt of lightning.

Claw will start some trouble, he thought.

"Zuma?"

If I can catch him, I'll be a hero.

"Hey, Zuma!"

They won't possibly let me live it down!

"Earth to Zuma!"

"What?" asked Zuma, snapping out of his trance.

"You gonna finish those?"

Zuma sighed and chuckled before nudging his plate of pup treats to Rubble.

Long after the pups went to their sleeping quarters, Sweetie contacted Claw on her comm link.

"Well?"

"As usual, the police pup is onto me. But I'll get him dealt with. In the meantime, I've picked our target."

"Good! Who is it?"

"Zuma, the other brown one."

"Good. Very good. He poses no significant threat. He won't suspect a thing!"

Sweetie cut off the connection before slipping on her stealth suit and heading through a secret tunnel.

Zuma was the only pup awake. He couldn't even begin to close his eyes. He was so sure that this would be his moment. If he could catch Claw, he'd impress his friends. Even for but a moment, he'd get a shot in the spotlight. His imagination conjured images of him fighting Claw, giving him the old K.O.; returning the Krystal to the Princess, and his friends hoisting him onto their backs while cheering his name.

The chocolate lab decided enough was enough. He got up before sneaking out. His roommate Rubble snoring soundly.

Zuma walked through the castle quietly, listening and watching for anything. What he didn't know was that a certain terrier saw him, and was not pleased.

"Claw! Claw! Plan B!" Sweetie half whispered into her comm link.

"What's going on?"

"Someone's taking a midnight stroll."

"Ugh! We can't impersonate him, make up a tall tale, and then pupnap them with that idiot playing detective!"

"Exactly. I say we take him out of the picture. See what he knows. Then, we split them apart, eliminate them one by one. It will be a piece of cake!"

"Excellent! And tomorrow when He arises, I control him."

"We've settled this, I should."

"We'll see."

The two ended their conversation.

Zuma sighed, sitting near a lake outside the castle. That is, before a cardboard box fell onto him. It closed around him, and he was sent rolling onto the water.

Zuma's predicament had come so quickly. He shouted in fear.

"LET ME OUT! HEY! PLEASE! COME ON, DUDE!"

The last time Zuma was sent onto the water in a closed space, it wasn't so pleasant. He was beginning to remember one of the many times his brothers had tortured him.

The young chocolate lab ran, his brothers chasing him. "Guys, pwease! I can't..."

He panted, stopping to breathe.

"Not so fast, little shrimp!"

"Jake, pwease! I didn't mean to get you in twouble!"

"Too late."

Jake, Orlando and Sparrow caught up to their little brother. Earlier on, he'd tattled on them for stealing treats from an old Beagle. Boy, did their mother punish them. No treats for the night, she'd said. They were angry. Zuma was going to get it.

"I told you, useless maggot. Stay out of our way."

Orlando bit Zuma on the back of the neck, making him yelp. He'd been chased to a junkyard, however, and it was late at night. No one was around to hear the little pup's whimpers. Lifting Zuma by the back of his neck, Orlando threw his brother towards the gate.

Zuma grunted and slowly stood, wincing at the feeling of the scar near his shoulders.

"Guys, pwease... I'm... I'm so sowwy..."

"Aww, listen to him. He's sowwy," mocked Sparrow, before swatting down hard, scratching the young lab across the face.

Zuma whined in pain as the claw tore at his cheek.

"Stop... huwting me..."

Jake snickered before grabbing a nearby garbage can and stuffing little Zuma into it, rolling him out into the beach. Luckily, Zuma had become quite gifted with a large lung capacity, and was able to hold his breath when the can ducked under the water's surface. Unfortunately, it was dark in the can, and it took a full 30 minutes to get back to the shore. (At which time his brothers had enough amusement and left.) This was one of many reasons he secretly slept near Skye during his first week at the Lookout, as he deemed her too little to hurt him.

Zuma shook away the painful memory. He continued to shout, but was surprised when the watery ground seemed to disappear. As the chocolate lab slowly poked his head out of the box, he found that the water had led him into a sewage system, with metal bars closing him in.

"Aw... biscuits!"