Embrace (Rocky x Chase)

Chapter 3- Forest Walkers

Rocky feared sleeping. It wasn't so much the act itself but what came after that shook him to the core. It was the dreaming, the transfer into one's own mind, the drop into your own subconscious. The mix had reasons to fear himself, the disturbing visions and dreams that ravaged his nights drained all mental stability. Tonight was no exception, as Rocky awoke in a dark hallway. His own breaths quivered as he placed one paw in front of the other, approaching what seemed to be a front door. His surroundings could only be described as a house of some kind.

The mix tried to calm himself, but lost all composure when a brutal shriek filled the air. Wood and glass were flung into the air as a car smashed through the front door, the headlights shining blindly into Rocky's eyes. He remembered stumbling, too overwhelmed to scream as the car surged forward. Bracing himself as the car ran him down, the world went dark around him. He then saw a vision before him: a simple polaroid photograph. In the photo were two teenagers posing while driving a car, dangerously drawing their eyes away from the road before them. A house could be seen in the background of the photo.

Rocky's eyes shot open, a muffled cry leaking from his terrified mouth. In an instant he darted his eyes around, relief soothing him as the world registered around him. He was home. Stifling his tears, the mix looked over to his left, expecting to catch the time on his wall clock.

He was met with the gaze of a demonic figure, crouched down low as it stared into his eyes, grinning a bloodied and horrific grin.

"Rocky!" Chase called, shaking the mix awake,

"Aahh!" screamed the grey pup, flailing his legs out and shooting upward,

"Are you alright?" the Shepherd drew his ears back in surprise, recoiling slightly, "I could hear you, mumbling in your sleep."

Rocky was currently unresponsive, as he turned his eyes over to his wall clock, fearing what he would see. The humble clock read the time of six in the morning.

"Is this real?" the fearful pup said without realizing,

"Of course it is, did you eat treats before bed?"

Rocky relaxed slightly, letting his gaze fall to the floor, "no, just... dreams."

Chase gave a small smile, "well, you're awake now, so they can't hurt you."

The mix's brain finally configured awake, and his lungs took a long breath. The smell of morning dew filled his nose, the chirping of birds meeting his ears.

"Come on, you can't stay in here," the Shepherd motioned for him to come outside, "let's go for a walk."

"A walk?" Rocky breathed,

"Yes, a walk, with your legs," Chase said with a raised eyebrow, "we're dogs, we walk."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry."

Shaking his head a final time to rid away the foul memories of his dreams, Rocky stretched for a second then drearily walked out of his kennel. Chase was already waiting outside, licking his paw. Of course he always had to look his best for the littlest things, something that made Rocky's heart soar. It was a bittersweet feeling, however, as the lingering whispers returned to him with the same message: a dog like him would never be desired.

A piece of food flying through the air smacked Rocky out of his thoughts. Chase frowned and turned his head toward the assailants.

"Morning, fag," Zuma waved boredly, eating out of his bowl. Skye was beside him, eating out of her own, and was visibly giggling at the derogatory comment.

"How pleasant of you," Chase replied sarcastically, "don't you have swimming records to jerk off to?"

The Lab turned his head at the comment, mild offense on his face, "I was talking to the garbage, Chase, not you."