All for the Love of a Dog

Chapter 3: Carrie Anne?

A/N: Yes, here is where we meet Dixie's real owner. If you're thinking that Carrie Anne is gonna meet Steve and fall in love and all that jazz, I'd have to say no. This isn't a romance story. Just hang with me, guys. And yes, I know, by all rights, in that last chapter, Dixie shouldn't have been able to catch the mouse. I also know that her pups probably would've been killed for all the times I had her crash into the wall. Again, just stay with me.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, just my characters and the story-line.

"Yeah, I heard you got a dog," Tony said with a grin. Upon raking his eyes over Dixie, his grin turned to a smirk, and he shook his head. "You sure know how to pick 'em, Cap."

Steve rolled his eyes and patted Dixie on the head. She licked his hand fondly, and looked on as Tony examined her master's sketch. Dixie knew who had drawn it, and she knew who the other humans in the picture were, too. It had been drawn a couple of years ago, when she, her master, and two of her master's friends went on a long trip.

"Jarvis, analyze the picture, and run a search for Carrie Anne Jameson, or this 'Mrs. Dickinson', that matches the picture, handwriting and such," Tony had said, without much interest in the subject.

"Yes, sir," Jarvis had replied.

Dixie looked curiously around the room, but Steve had a good grip on her, and wouldn't give her moving room. The man knew that Tony didn't exactly appreciate having a dog in his lab, and wasn't going to overstay his welcome. Steve and Tony were friends; but a dog and a laboratory don't go well together.

"Call me if you get anything?" Steve asked.

"Of course," Tony replied with a grin. "Well, if you know how to answer it, Capsicle."

With those words, Tony turned and got back to work. Steve gave a gentle tug on Dixie's leash, and the pair left the tower. Steve's initial intentions were to go back to his own apartment, but, remembering Dixie's incident with the mouse, decided it was best to get her something to occupy her mind.

He didn't know how much of a struggle Dixie had put up to catch the creature, and didn't know of the damage to her pups. But Dixie did. She had felt a good many of them; they would move now and then, kicking against her. But now they wouldn't. Maybe they were dead. Dixie didn't know, and she didn't have it in her to worry about some pups that she had never met before. Her own, live, human pup was probably looking for her. But Dixie didn't know how to get to where her master lived.

And so, Dixie contented herself with following Steve. Of course, she had to follow him anyways, but that wasn't her point. In her mind, the leash was just something there to keep her from lagging behind; not necessarily something attaching her to her human friend. And so, as she found herself being led into the pet shop, she instantly had her attention on the rodents in the back of the store.

Steve felt her tense up, and pulled her towards the dog bones before she could lunge and choke herself on the leash. These treats attracted her attention for the time being, and she sniffed at them eagerly. Steve smiled as he kneeled to her level, looking over the bones and chews with her.

"Like this, Dixie?" He asked, waving a rawhide knot in front of her nose.

Dixie sniffed at it a moment, but then turned her attention on the bigger bones. Rawhide was good for chewing, but the taste was bland. These bones however, had traces of meat still on them. Steve grabbed one and looked it over holding it out to Dixie. She mouthed it a bit, and Steve withdrew it from her reach. He placed it gently in a plastic hand basket, along with a couple of rawhide chews. Dixie turned her attention to the toys on the opposite side of the aisle.

She looked them over with interest, sniffing at them curiously. Steve picked up a couple of tennis balls and a tug-of-war rope. Dixie sniffed at them as he put them in the basket, but they didn't hold her interest like the bones did; except for one. Just as the pair was about to go on their way and check out, she caught a glimpse of a little stuffed toy. It wasn't terribly big, and was shaped and colored to look like a possum. Dixie walked closer to it, and picked it up, looking at her human friend with the saddest expression she could possibly muster. Steve smiled down at her, and kneeled before her, taking the toy.

He turned it over in his hands, and looked back at Dixie. The dog kept her sad, puppy face. The toy was well built, so it would hold up to rough-housing. Steve patted Dixie on the head and tossed the toy into the basket, scratching the dog's neck fondly.

"Come on, girl, we'll go to the park for a bit after this, and you can play with these," Steve said.

Dixie followed him eagerly, and sat straight and still while Steve paid for everything. The cashier from their last trip wasn't her today, and the young fellow who replaced him smiled kindly at her as he scanned ad bagged everything.

"Well aren't you a pretty girl?" he asked with a toothy smile.

Dixie wagged her tail in response, remembering a man who was a lot like this one.

"Well ain't you a pretty ol' hound?"

His handsome blue eyes were locked on hers, as she wagged her tail at his words. He looked to her Master with a smile. He took her Master's arm and helped her cross the way into the old building.

Dixie looked back at the man. That wasn't Him. He had darker hair, and a younger smile on his face. This man was older, and didn't sound the same either.

Steve thanked the cashier, and led the way out of the store and towards the park. Dixie found herself lagging behind him. She was tired all of a sudden, and her bones ached. Steve didn't seem to really notice, and the kept on till they got to the park. Once there, Steve sat down on a bench, and shifted through the plastic bag that the cashier had given him. He fished out a tennis ball first, and held it in front of Dixie's nose.

The old dog sniffed it with interest. It smelled like Steve, the cashier man, and the meaty bones that were also in the bag. There was also a fresh, clean smell about it that grated on her nerves. It was too clean and crisp. It needed to be played with, dirtied, and worn out. Dixie mouthed at it, and Steve withdrew his hand.

The man stood, and took a few steps to the side. Dixie followed him with her eyes, but remained sitting in front of the bench. Steve waved the ball a bit in her sight, before tossing it out towards the tree line.

"Go on, girl!" Steve urged.

He had been careful not to throw it too far, and guessed it would land right at or a bit into the trees. He smiled, when Dixie took off, careful not to lose her footing, and balancing herself well on her three legs. She wasn't as fast as a healthier, younger dog, of course, but she still had some speed left in her.

Dixie, as she ran, felt at least three years younger, with the grass and dirt being torn away in small patches and clumps by her big, clawed feet. The wind picked up her ears, and the flapped behind her head. Dixie's tongue lolled as she tasted the air. There were squirrels in the trees, and birds too; but they were not her targets. No, for some reason unknown to her, her human friend had chosen a simple green ball to be her prey, and had thrown it far, so she would have to chase it. Dixie saw it hit the ground right in front of a big oak tree, and it bounced off the trunk's face, flying towards another tree. But instead of hitting this one, and flying off in another direction, it landed in the soft loam beneath the tree. Dixie nosed around it, and grabbed the ball, jogging eagerly back to Steve.

"Good girl!" Steve called, taking the ball and ruffling Dixie's neck fur. He hugged her gently, and ruffled her ears.

Dixie licked his face, her tail thumping into his side. This was her favorite part- next to eating whatever her Master would give her, of course- and she basked in the attention.

After a few more tosses, Steve decided it was time for them to leave. They hadn't lost a single tennis ball, which Steve found surprising. But Dixie had gotten tired, and Steve knew it couldn't be good for her to overwork herself; even if she was having fun doing it.

There was a high pitched, chiming ring, and it took Steve a moment to realize that the noise was coming out of his own pocket. Pulling out his phone, Steve stared at the screen. A picture of Tony's face was on it, and the screen clearly said 'Slide to Unlock'. Steve momentarily panicked, not remembering how he was supposed to do this. Don't dance, fool, he told himself.

Putting his finger inside a box on the screen, he slid his finger to the right, and the screen changed.

"Hello?" Steve asked, hoping he had done that right.

"Hey, Capsicle," Tony replied. "I've got some stuff on your mystery dog owner; you may want to get down here."

Before Steve could reply, his friend had hung up. Steve sighed, and looked down at Dixie.

"The nerve of some people," he said with a laugh. "That man can grate on anyone's nerves, Dixie."

Dixie laughed up at him, and woofed quietly, wagging her tail.

At Stark Tower

"Well, Cap," Tony said." I don't really know what to tell you."

The genius was studying the sketch from its position on one of his work tables.

"It was drawn by a lead pencil," Tony said warily. Steve blinked, not understanding.

"Aren't they all lead pencils?" He asked.

It was Tony's turn to blink. "Oh, my dear Captain," he said, putting his head in his hands. "It's a wonder you're all still up there," Tony muttered.

Steve was left, still confused, to ponder the meaning of his friend's words, while the man checked something over on one of his holographic screens.

"Anyways, This 'Mrs. Dickinson', we're pretty sure, is Susanna Dickinson; she was, apparently, one of the only Anglo survivors of the Battle of the Alamo. Definitely not this dog's owner," Tony said with a chuckle. "And now we get to the 'fun' part."

Steve braced himself. If Tony said something like that, it meant trouble. Most of the time, anyways.

"This Carrie Anne disappeared from the face of the earth four years ago. She made a reappearance last year, apparently. That, or someone assumed her identity, and carried on with her life. "

Steve was startled. "What do you mean she disappeared?"

"I mean, that she was going on some kind of field trip with her school, the bus crashed, and her body was never found. No part of her; nothing. Zip. Nada. No-thing. The same goes for her friend Theresa, and one of the teachers."

Steve scratched his head. Dixie looked on, with little interest. She knew exactly what had happened. She was there. She wouldn't have been there, but she was because her Master's family had pulled some strings. Truthfully, Dixie was glad. She had done her job, and protected her Master and friend.

Steve looked down at Dixie. Of course she would know. But there was no way to find out through her.

"Where does Carrie Anne live?"

"She used to be from Texas, but when she reappeared, she was here in New York with her brother," Tony said, jotting down the address.

Steve took it from him, and, after thanking his friend, led Dixie outside. It was getting late, and Dixie was no doubt exhausted from the events of the day. They would find Carrie Anne tomorrow.

That night, Dixie lay in her place in front of the couch, her eyes closed. Steve was asleep in his room, and she could hear his soft snores. He was safe. Was her Master safe? Dixie had no way of knowing. She missed her human Master.

As sleep invaded her mind, Dixie thought she caught the scent of her master. But maybe it was nothing….

She was in his room again. Dixie knew that this man was incredibly sick. But her Master was determined to help him. She had her pencil, a rubber, and a piece of paper. Her place was on a stool by his bedside, where she could see him well. Dixie sat at her feet.

The man was choking painfully, uttering words and phrases that Dixie couldn't understand. They were garbled, and strained; the sickness inside him contributing to his lack of voice. His fever was high; so high in fact that he was delirious.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he quieted. The Commander came into the room and bid her Master and the man goodnight. The Commander had helped her Master; Dixie liked him. And so, as her tail thumped one last time for him, she looked to her Master.

"C'mon, Dixie," she said, moving her stool so that no one would trip over it.

Her Master would stay a long while in the sick man's room, waiting for something it seemed. Maybe she knew something that Dixie didn't. On this particular night, her Master seemed extremely upset. She was finicky, and clutched Dixie close. And she didn't wish to leave anyone. The past twelve or thirteen days (as Dixie had no way of telling which) were agony for her young Master.

They had been in here long after midnight. Dixie could sense the earth coming alive again. As Dixie thought this over, she suddenly became aware of a strange quiet. It was if the whole world had gone silent; just her listen for one thing. Footsteps. Thousands of footsteps. Her Master was startled awake when the attack began, and leapt to her feet. Dixie followed suit, sticking close to her master.

What happened next wasn't clear. There was a long period of fighting outside; when suddenly the door burst open, and the noises of war grew louder. A handful of soldiers barged in, and pushing her Master to the side, looked about the room.

Dixie struggled to get free and attack them, but her Master had a tight grip on her collar. The soldiers lifted the sic man's blanket off of his head, and stepped back, shooting at him. Blood spattered on Dixie and her Master, along with something that the dog couldn't quite place.

Dixie's Master was screaming, trying to keep hold of Dixie and watching through watery eyes as the soldiers stabbed the dead man repeatedly, crying out to avenge their fallen comrades. They didn't know that the man was sick.

Dixie spun, and bit her Master on the arm. Her teeth tore through the human's skin, and Dixie was free. Her Master lunged to grab hold of her once more, but was thrown back against the wall by a soldier who thought she planned on attacking. Dixie turned to her Master, but the taste of blood was still in her mouth, and Dixie wanted to fight. She went to bite the soldier, but found him already gone.

Her Master was crying, back pressed against the soiled wall.

Dixie's eyes opened slowly. She had been whimpering, and kicking in her sleep. She could still taste blood in her mouth. It made her miss her Master. What she even okay? She was with her brother; but that didn't mean that the events of that night didn't still haunt her. Dixie didn't want to go back to sleep.

And so, lifting herself gingerly onto her paws, Dixie trudged to the kitchen. There was still food in her bowl, she noticed, and helped herself to a few mouthfuls and a long gulp of water. Without much thought, Dixie then went to the bathroom. The tiles were cold, and felt good on her side as Dixie lay in front of the shower. But the dog couldn't get to sleep. She could hear Steve's snoring, and decided it best to check up on her human friend.

Nudging his door open with her nose, Dixie peeked into the room. He seemed okay, curled on the far side of the bed. He had been lying on the nearer side of the bed, Dixie noticed; the sheets had been twisted and pulled over to the opposite side. He must be a restless sleeper. With a huge yawn, Dixie jumped to her hind legs, putting her front paw up on the bed. Steve didn't notice. With great difficulty, and a bit of wiggling, Dixie found herself lying on the bed, her face pressed against the man's back.

After a bit more shifting, Dixie was at the head of the bed, with her head and neck over a pillow, her nose in Steve's hair.

The next morning, Steve awoke to find himself face to face with Dixie. Somehow in the night, either he or the dog had shifted, and now she was curled around his head, snoring in his face. Steve laughed, and pushed her nose away, before sitting up. Dixie's eyes opened, she lifted her head, and gave Steve the dirtiest look she could muster.

How dare he interrupt her sleep? With a great yawn, the dog stood up and dragged herself lazily off the bed. Steve chuckled, and stood up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He looked at the clock. 5 o'clock.

Dixie sat in the living room as Steve showered, idly chewing on one of her bones. When he stepped out, smelling clean and looking more awake, Dixie jumped up and wagged her tail, trotting into the kitchen. Steve followed, and, after pouring her a fresh bowl of food, set about cooking himself some bacon and eggs. Dixie watched with interest as he did, and sat at his feet. Surely he could throw her just a little piece. After all; meat was much more appetizing than the kibble he had been giving her the past few days.

After breakfast, Steve had –like usual- taken Dixie for a walk through the park. As they walked, Steve looked once again at the strip of paper that Tony had scribbled the address down on. Should He take Dixie now and just hand her over? Or should he make sure that this really was Dixie's owner? Steve opted for the latter, and led Dixie back to his apartment. With her bones and stuffed possum, she wouldn't cause any trouble anyways, he hoped.

Surprisingly, Dixie's owner lived half-way across town. Steve couldn't imagine how Dixie had made it as far as she had without being hit by a car or picked up by animal control. Steve checked the address one last time before knocking on the door. He expected the person to answer the door would be in her mid-twenties, and perhaps well-built to keep up with a dog like Dixie. The person might have been up for the day already, if they were an early-riser, but Steve assumed that the brother would probably answer the door.

Steve was wrong.

After a few minutes, he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. There were apparently wood floors, because as the person neared the door, the floors creaked. There was a stumble, and the sound of something solid hitting the door, accompanied by a muffled 'oof'.

When the door finally opened, Steve was looking at air. He glanced down to see a short teenager. The girl had a mournful expression on her face. She was dressed for the day already; wearing a black button-up shirt and long black skirt, but without shoes. She was rubbing her forehead, having apparently hit it against the door by accident trying to look through the peep-hole.

"Yes sir, how can I help you?" she drawled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Her voice was scratchy, Steve noticed as he tried to think of what he was going to say.

"Does a Carrie Anne Jameson live here?" he asked.

He expected her to close the door for a moment, and perhaps bring out an older sister-in-law who could possibly be Dixie's owner. He wouldn't have been surprised if Carrie Anne had been a sister, and had died four years ago in the crash.

The last thing he expected was for her to say was that she was that very same Carrie Anne Jameson he'd been looking for.