Dreams were Rocky's worst enemy. Dreams were unstoppable, emerging from the darkness to greet him in his slumber. Dreams carried memories of trauma and fear, gleefully reminding him of the horrors left behind, and never, ever, let him forget. It was remarkable for a soldier to be so scared of nightmares; a mere mental image compared to the real bloody action he saw almost every day. Perhaps Marshall was more in that region, but he'd soon get used it to it, surely.

Rocky would never get over the nightmares.

Small powernaps were all he could use to get by, whenever he could quickly catch one. It was only way to rest without slipping deep enough for a nightmare to drag him under. Other soldiers would commonly catch him drifting in and out in the canteens or nodding off in the vehicles enroute to missions, precisely the reason Chase preferred to drive. Rocky didn't know if his shepherd brother did it out of kindness to let him sleep, or because he didn't want to die in a car collision thanks to an idiot mixed breed falling asleep at the wheel.

The only opportunity he had today was the large military van flying down the highway, delivering them all to the mission at hand. He had taken a backsight in its passenger hold, a good place to lean against the wall for a nap. That was, if his comrades were willing to shut up for even four seconds.

"I know the target, actually." Chase spoke up, caught up in a conversation with a few others. "Saw him on the news, pretty icky guy, kinda lame, no family, a loser sorta." He chuckled at his own joke, ignoring the eyes rolling around him. "Can't wait to break down some walls, hey Rocky can I-"

"No." Rocky shut him down. "You can't tase someone if they surrender, that's a war crime." He flicked his eyes over to his brother, struggling to understand his unquenchable need for action.

The shepherd waved him off. "Oh don't tell me all the authority has gone to your head. You may be captain, but you still know me!"

"I want to keep this clean, Chase. It's an in-and-out, and we won't have any explosives on us."

"Fine, fine." Chase shook his head dismissively. "But I'm still using stun grenades."

A husky sitting nearby laughed at him. "Right, because we know how effective you are with those."

"It was one time, Leo."

"You were blinded for three hours."

While his subordinates bickered with one another, Rocky had to physically turn away to restrain himself from strangling someone. Brothers to him maybe, but it was annoyingly obvious some preferred the fun of kicking in doors than actually apprehending the perpetrators. Chase had never wronged him before, at least not for a long time, surely he wouldn't start now?

"Alright, all of you shut up and listen to me." Rocky stood up, addressing the team. "We'll be arriving on scene in five minutes, target is suspected to be hiding either in the upstairs guest room or likely behind a hidden wall." He spoke flatly, shaking away the exhaustion that pulled at him. "Me, Chase, and Leo will infiltrate via the front door, Paige, Burton, and Strap will take the backyard. I do suspect he has captives around the house, so weapons tight and check your fire. I don't want to take home a horror story to Bella."

"How many captives?" Paige tilted his spotted head.

"We aren't sure, but we need to act fast before he moves again." The mix shrugged. "Again, no explosives, we don't know where anyone truly is in here."

The world around them slowed to a stop, a signal they had arrived at their location. The six quickly suited up, zipping up their jackets and strapping into their military vests. Six pup packs hung from the ceiling, black and carefully concealing their weapons within. Rocky and Chase clipped one on each, tightening its hold onto them. "Ruff, holster." Chase barked, and a metal arm extended out of the side, clamping its waiting fingers. It's hold quickly met the handles of an assault rifle, standard issue for the ACG. Once every soldier was suited up and swiftly armed with lethal weaponry, the back doors of the vehicle opened, and the hounds were released.

Rocky landed in the grass, crouching low under the clear night sky. He pulled his mask and goggles over his face quickly, and his two followers mirrored him. The other three crept off into the darkness, taking the long way around to flank the house. Clicking the safety off his rifle, Rocky quickly gestured with his paw to move forward.

They moved like jaguars in the tall grass, stalking low in their approach as if the house was lingering prey.

"Leo, your white fur is clear as day." Chase whispered over his shoulder. "You ain't blending in with anything, even at night."

"Up yours, shepherd." Came the husky's quip.

Paying them no mind, Rocky carefully stepped up onto the wooden porch, the old wood creaking under his paws. He twitched at the sound, fearing any little noise would expose them. Slow and steady, he repeated to himself, every minute little detail had to be perfect. He gently came to the door, Chase and Leo firmly keeping behind him with moving eyes.

Rocky placed his paw on the door, carefully pulling it open. "Entering the house now." Keeping the nose of his rifle forward as he opened it, his eyes fixed forward into the interior, his breath bated. He was met with a dark, eerily normal hallway, adorned with a dusty shelf and red carpet, like whoever had once lived here was long gone. All lights were off, shrouding the building in a foreboding darkness that hid all that moved within it. The dark was useful, Rocky knew, but it didn't pick sides. If they could hide, the enemy could too.

"We've entered the house." Paige's voice came on the radio. "Sweeping the back side now... I hear voices."

Directing his comrades with paw signals, Rocky's squad seized the nearest room, moving at a meticulous pace to keep their eyes trained on whatever faint movement they could catch. Glancing through the doorway weapon-first, Rocky's quick scan yielded no results, the room was empty, save for a scratched up wooden dining table. Idle plates laid across it, but it was obvious no one had properly eaten on the thing for months.

"Dining room clear," Rocky muttered.

Paige followed after. "Back living room clear."

Rocky was sweeping a completely empty room when Chase's voice came on the radio. "Rocky, I found a captive, labrador puppy. Do we have time to get him out?"

The mix took a second to answer, skimming each corner of the room for anything hiding in its shadows. "Maybe... I think so. Leo, take the puppy back to the van."

"On it."

"In the meantime," Rocky looked up at the ceiling, remembering what he'd seen on the blueprints. "Chase... meet me in the foyer, we're taking the upstairs. Burton, Strap, cover our six. Paige, secure the bottom floor in case someone tries to sneak by us. We've done this at least a hundred times, you guys know the drill." For all the countless times he had kicked down doors, thrown himself through windows, and stormed rooms at full blaze, he assumed he'd get used to the pounding unease in his mind by now.

Chase was moving at a much faster pace, sporadically checking corners and pointing his weapon in spastic directions. He shouldered through whatever door was in front of him, scanning each room in milliseconds with frantic eyes. He pushed into a walk-in closet, shining a flashlight over the piles of clothes until he spotted a tail hiding under a shirt. "Rocky, found another captive." He muttered into his radio. "Hey, you." Chase nudged the tail, making the puppy skitter farther into the darkness.

"Hey!" He hissed, "kid, it's not safe. You need to come with me and-" his stopped midsentence, thinking over the words he just spoke. "Actually that might be the safest place for you to be, as long as you can stay in there for a few more minutes." Quickly glancing at his sides, he knew he had to get a move on to take the second floor. "Just stay there, I'll come back for you."

The puppy briefly peeked out at him, exposing its fearful eyes while it backed further into its safety corner. Chase squinted, seeing it was a cockapoo pup, a terrified cockapoo pup with brilliant blue eyes. Spotting the captive, an alarmed flare struck Chase, making him flinch with a slightly twisted expression. He pushed it away in an instant, returning to his composed self, but the feeling had struck him deep. Keeping his breathing steady, the shepherd moved on with haste, struggling to recollect his focus.

He met Rocky in the cleared foyer, taking position below a set of stairs.

"Have you cleared the rest of the rooms?" Rocky said with a whisper.

"One captive," Chase nodded. Without thinking, his mouth went on autopilot. "Looked almost exactly like Skye."

That name hit Rocky like a truck, the mix freezing up and flashing Chase an alarmed expression. "Chase, for the love of God, not right now." He said desperately, fear spreading under his mask. "We'll talk when the mission's over, just please focus."

"I am focused." The shepherd argued quietly, "I've already forgotten about her." He was thankful the mask expertly hid his face, Rocky couldn't be allowed to see the distress storming his brother. It'll go away, Chase told himself in his mind. It always went away eventually. The static went away, so the thoughts should too. But they never did truly leave, they just left a little longer each time, always coming back with their crooked grins, ready to irritate their host to no end.

The duo moved up the stairs, their two followers closely watching their backs. Rocky hit the first room they came across, and although it was empty save for an idle bed and dresser, he could clearly hear someone talking nearby. They seemed frantic, pacing in circles muttering to themselves. That had to be him, Rocky knew, motioning for Chase and Strap to gather huddle outside the door.

Creeping up slightly, Chase put his ear to the door and listened inside.

"I can't go back!" Came a muffled voice inside. "The ACG is in my house! What am I supposed to do!?"

"I say we've found our guy." The shepherd nodded to his brother, and tightened his stance like he was about to spring. He slipped back to the side as Rocky approached in the middle.

"Time, two forty three in the morning," Rocky spoke into his collar. "We've found Harris Veltoven. Breaching the room now."

He wordlessly counted down from three, making sure Chase and Strap could see his paw signals, then violently slammed the stock of his weapon into the door, loudly breaking the lock and flinging it open. Wooden shards flew inward, spraying across the floor and carpet. He charged through like a warrior in battle, Chase and Strap quickly following him inside the guest bedroom.

Harris was undoubtedly there, taken by complete surprise as his room was infiltrated. The sudden explosion of impact made him jump, dropping his phone to floor and sending him into a flight instinct. What Rocky saw immediately was a whole other puppy being kept in the room, another captive to deal with. Scared into impulsive action, Harris took one look at the infiltrators and panicked for his life.

"Harris Veltoven!" Rocky snapped, pointing his gun.

"Get away from me!" Harris barked, snatching the neck of the puppy and holding him against them. He pulled a knife in an instant, putting it to the puppy's throat. The small dog yelped at the snatching, fidgeting at the blade's touch.

Chase and Strap drew their weapons instantly, strafing to the sides of the room. "Put him down, Veltoven! This isn't worth it!"

"I said get away from me!" Said the border collie again, moving backward with the infant.

"We aren't going anywhere! Put him down before things get worse for you!" The shepherd growled, his crosshairs firmly on the suspect. Burton and Leo quickly slipped into the room, also training their weapons on the collie. He was completely surrounded.

Visibly nervous from the increased presence, Harris stepped back again with his hostage, glancing at the bed next to him. "I'm not doing all this again! I won't! You can't make me endure everything all over again!"

"You brought that upon yourself!" Chase shot back at him.

Rocky took a small step forward. "Harris, listen to me. This isn't worth it." He maintained his composure with the threat, careful not to let his racing heartbeat expose his uncertainty. "We all know what's going to happen here. The best outcome for you is come with us quietly."

"I said I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"You don't have that choice anymore."

Chase spotted a small detail in the room, and hastily whispered into his radio. "Rocky, there's a gun on the bed."

The five quickly sharpened their postures, maintaining a semi-circle around Harris with all eyes and crosshairs on him. The fugitive held his hostage close, glancing at the bed again. "You don't know anything about what I went through in life! You think I wanted to be this?"

"I don't 'think' anything," Rocky said, trying to be reassuring. "My job is bringing you where you need to go. Just trust me, dog to dog, the best outcome here is you coming quietly."

"I tried to change!" Harris said, his voice slightly breaking. "I did everything they told me, but they rig the system so you lose! It's impossible to win, it's too easy to make a mistake with too big of consequences."

"Harris, keep it together." Chase took a step forward. Gradually the team began cornering him beside the bed.

"And those who did try to win the system," Harris said with a growl. "Just had their lives sucked away into nothing. We walked the Earth, sure, but we had no freedom! Every day was always another ordeal and for what?! Just to live another day?!"

"Harris..." Rocky held out his paw.

"I'm not going back!" He snapped at the soldier. "Maybe... maybe deep down I never really wanted to hurt anyone, but I will never go back!" His grip on the puppy slipped slightly, a window the dog seized almost instantly. The puppy wiggled out from under his arm, escaping his captor and fleeing the area.

"Paige, there's a puppy coming down the stairs." Chase reported in quickly.

"Harris, listen to me." Rocky was growling agitated. "This isn't worth throwing your life away over. You still-"

He was cut off as the suspect spoke over. "Still what? Still have a chance? They already gave me a second chance and rigged it for failure! My life is thrown away, has been for years!" His eyes flicked over to the bed. "There's no more for dogs like me, we're just... cannon fodder for animals like you."

The captain could already see what was coming. "Harris... don't."

"But maybe..." Harris glimpsed at the bed again, resignation in his face. "Maybe that's how it was always supposed to be. Maybe we were never supposed to get this far in the first place. If you told me that, I'd believe you." He flashed Rocky a hard stare. "Well... congrats. You win. You put down the monster, now you can go home and be loved."

There was a split-second of silence, the room bristling with tension as one awaited the other's move. Harris took a final look at the bed and back at the soldiers, making his decision.

"Don't!" Chase barked.

Harris sprang for the bed, grabbing the handgun in his teeth and arming himself. Screaming with fury, he aimed it forward to attack the infiltrators. A typhoon of cracking pops split the air as all the dogs opened fire, gunning down the border collie where he stood. Blood sprayed behind him, painting the wall and floor as his body was torn through. Harris, a very respected individual, now fell dead into a crumpled heap of mistakes and regret.

"Target down." Rocky sighed, lowering his weapon. "Lethal force... required."

"Could it have been any other way?" Leo looked over at him. "Dude was messed up, I don't think he was crazy about going back to prison."

"I wanted to give him a chance."

"He already had his chance though." The husky approached Harris' body to document the execution. "Two of them, I think. You mess up a third time, that's it for you."

The mixed breed lowered his head slightly, sighing to himself. Chase came to his side, placing a paw on his shoulder. "Hey, at least you tried," the shepherd said. "You can say that much."

"We did what had to be done." Rocky shook his head. "Alright, everyone gather the captives and recover any evidence you can about his activities. Case is closed."

While the dogs worked in securing a second transport for the recovered puppies, Rocky followed Chase outside in the night. Everyone else was occupied at the moment, either sweeping clean the house or working on mission reports. It was an ideal time to get answers from a comrade, and he switched his radio off promptly. Chase seemed to realize what was coming, and turned his off as well.

"Can I talk to you?" Rocky asked, approaching Chase will he stood by their military vehicle.

The shepherd pulled his mask off, giving the mix a narrowed look. "Look, I didn't knock down any walls this time, and I only opened fire when the suspect had a weapon."

"That... no, it has nothing to do with that, you did fine." The captain waved off, also removing his headgear. "I just can't help but notice that you mentioned Skye again."

Chase widened his eyes, staring at Rocky in disbelief. "This again?"

"You're still having those memories, aren't you?"

"Well... maybe," Chase said defensively. "But can you blame me? She was our family, and so was Zuma and Rubble! Of course I think about them from time to time, wouldn't you?"

"Course I do, but Zuma tried to kill you, remember?"

The shepherd frowned, grimacing slightly at memories of old. "Family is family, Rocks."

"Look, I'm not saying you can't think about the old life we had." Rocky continued. "But every time you think about these things, you suddenly became... upset, and disjointed." He leaned in with a lowered voice, making sure no one else could hear them. "Just saying... maybe Marshall could prescribe you something to help with that."

"You trying to put me on meds?"

"It was a suggestion..."

"Look, I don't need you to tell me what I feel." Chase flattened his ears, hissing at his brother. "And for the record, I'm not upset, and I'm not disjointed. What happened in Adventure Bay changed everything," he said disdainfully. "So excuse me if I still think about certain events that refuse to leave my mind!"

Growing exasperated, Rocky returned the aggressive look. "You think I don't think about it? Excuse me, I was there too! You weren't the only one that witnessed traumatic events."

"You don't act like you do."

"It's called suppression, Chase. You just have to learn how to put on a brave face, especially when others rely on you, like how I rely on you to get these things done without any possibility of screwing up."

"I'm not screwing up!" The shepherd barked. "I have no capacity to screw up, in fact, I'll be the best soldier the ACG has ever seen in their life!"

"Well that's a bold claim..."

"Maybe, but I will." Chase puffed out his chest. "You'd think Cyrus himself trained me. He kinda did... for a few days. This guild is all we have, you know." His voice dropped faintly. "We owe it to them to be the best we can be, you know? Hell, they even promoted you. You're literally in Cyrus's position right now."

Unable to retort, Rocky could only sigh and nod his head. "Maybe, but I'm still worried about you. We've had this conversation before, but it's becoming more frequent." He said, shuffling his paws "Can you just... promise me that you'll see Marshall when we get home?"

"For what?"

"I don't know, a health check? You worry me sometimes."

Chase opened his mouth to argue, but closed it, understanding his brother's concern. Rocky could've easily pulled rank and simply ordered him as captain to see the medic, but it never came to that. A faint smile lit up Chase's face, happy that after everything, there was still a dog in the world that cared about him. "Alright," he nodded. "I'll go see him." The two finalized their conversation and turned back to see their fellow teammates approaching with their findings.

Another successful mission, Rocky had personally lost count. Both he and Chase were forever grateful to be given their second chance life, but as time went on, great worry began to encompass them both. A glimmer of dread seemed to follow them in every step, forebodingly warning them of something on the horizon. Rocky was perfectly sane, he told himself over and over, and Chase was stable enough, why wouldn't things go awry? The past needed to stay in the past.

The memories needed to stay memories, no matter what happened.