"You need help?"
"I'm good" I reply, carefully stepping out of the vehicle
Rubble opens the front door for me while I limp my way inside the house, making sure not to point the shotgun at him or any furniture
He quietly closes the door and takes a look around
"Rocky? We're here" he calls to the emptiness of the house
I just make my way inside the garage, carefully scanning the room to find the perfect spot to hide the shotgun
Covering it with an old black blanket, I place it underneath one of the many furniture that are sitting around the garage. Furniture that Rocky seemed to no longer have a place for them, or found them lying in the middle of some street and simply took them.
I take a couple of steps back to check if the gun is noticeable, and that's when I hear Rocky's voice mumbling in the living room
Rubble's voice follows immediately after, then everything stays silent
Letting a sigh go, I peek at my bandage, noticing a tiny red dot right in the middle of the white cloth, and a red harsh around the wound
At this rate, I don't think it'll ever heal. There's always something happening that simply opens back the same wound, or worsens it.
And the sound of the front door closing makes me quickly look back up
I limp out of the garage to find Rocky standing there, his arms crossed and a sad frown on his face
And I wonder,
What would be the right thing to say in a situation like this?
"I made sure to . . . uhm . . . find a good spot"
His paws, with fur that seems to haven't been stroked for a long time yet clean as if he just had a shower, frustratingly cover his eyes for a moment. He looks tense, maybe scared, he even lets out a heavy sigh.
"It's okay . . . it's done, Rocky . . . I guess everything is . . ."
The expression on his face makes me feel uneasy, as if something bad is about to happen. But at this point, what else can you expect? Nothing is going as planned, nothing is ending well. Nothing you expect to happen happens.
I take some air to finish the sentence "Everything is finally over. . ."
He doesn't reply.
He just stays there
Softly, I clear my throat "I was thinking about the thing . . . you told me . . . about leaving this place?"
I don't . . . I don't like the feel of this . . .
"Remember? You told me you . . . didn't want to stay in this house anymore? So . . . perhaps we could talk about . . . leaving this place?"
But he remains quiet, not raising his eyes. His glance darted to the dirty floor
"Is . . ." I take a quick look around him, immediately noticing a small duffle bag resting right next to the front door as well as the 'PPR' labelled box
"Is everything a-alright?"
Rocky takes a deep breath and, with a shaky voice, softly says "Marshall . . ."
"Rocky . . ." I let a small chuckle go, gently shaking my head as I take a step closer "come o-"
"Marshall . . . "
YOU ARE READING
A Paw Patrol Story
FanfictionA pup tells us a story about his life. He passes through a lot of things that hurt him, making him escape from his home. Years later, he comes back to the place he once belonged to repair all the damages between his old friends accompanied by his lo...
