Chapter Twelve:
Blue seemed to be stuck in a perpetual state of fear and anxiety. After Steve promised to help Blue, he gave Blue a new shirt ― his had vomit on it ― and helped him brush his teeth, including his fangs.
After they finished, Steve sat Blue on the couch and told him to "wait, while everyone gets ready". Then, he proceeded to take a few of the white things Clint called boiled eggs and left.
Clint. Blue liked Clint. He introduced him to do many new things, that Blue began to get dizzy with information and the scent of it all. He thought Clint had poisoned him when Blue started to vomit ― the doctor would do that, and Blue would be sick for days ― but Steve just said that he had eaten too much.
Blue's favourite was the bacon. It was salty and warm and sizzled on Blue's tongue. The thought of eating more made his stomach grumble.
Someone was walking down the hall, and Blue noticed it was Clint. He was wearing a new outfit and went to the kitchen to clean up the food. Clint noticed Blue on the couch and smirked.
He hurried to finish and stepped down into the sitting area. "Hi, B," Clint smiled, and made hand movements as he talked.
"Hi," Blue mimicked.
"How are you feeling? Still sick?" Blue frowned, he did it again.
Blue shook his head, and waited for Clint to move his hands again. Clint noticed and laughed. "Sorry. My hearing aids are charging."
"What ― hands?" Blue asked, watching him move them again.
"It's sign language," Clint explained. "I can't hear very well, so when I don't want to, or can't hear people speak, I can do this."
Blue was absolutely entranced. "Want me to teach you a few words?" Blue nodded. "What do you want to know?"
"Name?" Blue suggested.
Clint held up a hand. His fingers were standing straight except for his thumb which was folded against his palm. Blue marvelled, eyes wide, and he copied it on his own hand. His fingers were slightly spread apart, and Clint pushed them together, fixing it. "That's B."
"Blue?" Blue asked.
Clint nodded, showing him his hand, all of the fingers straight. And slightly twisting it. Blue copied, and began to grin. Blue pressed a hand to his chest, then made the sign for blue. [Me - Blue].
Clint smiled, "What else?"
"Clint?" Clint spelt out his name and Blue watched carefully. He slowly began to spell out Clint's name, his fingers fumbling with a 'n' and the 't', but when he finished, he was beaming.
Clint chuckled and Steve came down the hallway, uniformed and ready. Behind him was Natasha ― who had already been dressed. Clint stood and Blue watched them, the nervous flutters in his stomach coming back and he bit his lip. "You ready?"
Blue swallowed, but Clint patted his knee. "Don't worry, we'll keep you safe." Blue nodded slowly, and Clint held out a hand, helping him to his feet.
"Let's get this over with, boys," Natasha said, and they all walked to the elevator.
a·s·u·l
Blue felt like he couldn't breathe. He could see his Master's building across the street. They were sitting in a big car, and nobody seemed to notice him - notice any of them. Blue could see the front doors from where he sat. Someone knocked on the door, and it opened, letting them slip inside.
Blue stared, his fangs had popped in worry and sweat rolled down his face. "Hey, B?" Steve spoke, and he jumped. Steve gave him a gentle smile. He still smelled like apples and seawater. "You don't have to come inside. You can stay out here with Bruce."
Blue licked his lips, turning back to the building. The idea was tempting. Wait for Steve and the others to go in, and come back out with his Master.
Blue thought about the beast he fought before, and the other dogs he fought on a nearly daily basis. He thought about the men inside with guns and knives who kicked him around if they could get their hands on him.
He thought about his Master. His dark eyes and large, calloused hands. His frequently bruised knuckles and scars that held stories behind them.
"B?" Steve said, and Blue shook his head.
"Help," he said, and. Steve smiled proudly.
"Okay, well we'll be going in soon. If you want to come, you need to wear this," he held up a heavy looking black, bulky vest. Blue took it and slipped it on over his shirt. "And, here," he handed Blue a small black thing. "It goes in your ear. It helps us communicate."
Blue nodded and Steve helped him put it in his ear and turn it on. He winced when it beeped, and Steve turned the volume down a bit. "Last chance," Steve said. "You sure you want to do this?" Blue nodded again, "Alright. Let's go."
b·u·l·u·u
Steve was steps behind Blue as he came to the side of the building. He pressed a finger to his lips and pointed to a door around the corner ― the same one he came in the other night. There was a new chain on the door, securing it.
Blue came over and yanked the chain off easily, breaking it. Steve rose an eyebrow and Blue waited a moment, holding a hand out to stop Steve.
The door opened and Blue moved. Steve jumped in, knocking his head into the door. He fell, blood trickling down his forehead. Steve walked in, and Blue went to the wall. He easily climbed up the side of the building and lifted up his Master's office window.
He slipped inside, and saw his Master standing there, a gun to his forehead. Blue moved the gun, just as it went off. It hit bullet hit the floor, splintering wood everywhere.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" His Master growled. Blue flinched, breathe in, and out. "Answer me!" He pushed him, and Blue stumbled back. Before he could retaliate, his Master punched him in the stomach. Blue doubled over, coughing.
He elbowed him in the neck, and Blue crumbled, falling on the ground, "Did you kill him?" His Master demanded.
"Still―" his gun went off and Blue felt as if his calf had been sliced open. He let out a cry of pain, whining, squeezing his eyes shut.
His Master grabbed his leg and squeezed. Blue screamed, writhing on the ground, trying to pull his leg away. "Where have you been!?" He demanded, Blue whined, trying to breath in ― out ― in out ― in ― in
"I'll squeeze all the blood out of you!"
"Please―!" Blue gasped. This was a terrible idea. Blue was going to die because he didn't kill Steve. Blue was going to die for disrespecting his Master. Blue was going to die for disobeying his Master. He should have killed Steve ― he should have killed himself!
"Boss! The fuckin' Avengers are here! We gotta go―!" The man didn't finish. Something shot him in the back and he convulsed before falling down, an arrow sticking out of is back.
His Master yanked Blue to his feet, and pressed the gun to Blue's head. Blue hissed when he put weight on his foot, squeezing his eyes shut. "Put him down," Clint said, walking in the room. Behind him, was Steve, his shield up and ready to attack.
Blue looked at him, terrified. Then, he felt his Master move him closer to whisper something.
"Kill them, or I'll call the doctor and ship you back for dissection." Blue felt as if someone had poured ice down his spine. He knew his Master was serious ― it happened before.
Another boy, five years ago, came to his Master. He was just like Blue before the injections, scared and angry. When his Master put him in the ring, the boy wouldn't fight, no matter what disciplines his Master did.
Finally, his Master put him in a crate and Blue never saw him again. Until, a few weeks later. His Master showed him a video. Blue had never seen a video before that, and he never wanted to see one after.
It was a live feed of the boy he sent away, being dissected alive. He was screaming and squirming on the table, tears running down his face as the men and women, came around him. His Master made him watch as they sliced his chest open, and took out organ by organ identifying its purpose as use. Blood was everywhere, and eventually the little boy had stopped struggling.
When they finished and the boy was reverted to mere parts laid out like a machine, they ― horrifically ― began to reassemble him. They put the organs back in place, stitching up the skin and completely desecrating the boy's body. At the end, they applauded themselves.
"That'll be you, if you ever try don't do as I tell you."
Blue listened. Blue obeyed. Blue did not want to die ― not like that. Never like that.
His Master let go of his arm, and dropped the gun. He was smirking and raised his hands over his head. "Kill them," He said, and Blue attacked.
He went for Clint first, his fangs snagging on the man's arm, he dropped the bow immediately, hissing and yanking his arm away. "Blue!?" Steve said, and tried to grab Blue around the waist. Blue elbowed him in the nose. He heard a crack and Steve stumbled back.
Clint grabbed Blue's arm and twisted him around so that his hand could touch the middle of his back. "I don't know what he told you, but you need to stop fighting us!" Clint hissed, and Blue looked back at the man, who was trying to leave.
Natasha slipped through the window and had an arm pointed at him, ready to fire. Blue snapped his arm away, and felt the white-hot crack of it dislocating. He hissed, falling to the ground, and slipping his legs under Clint.
Clint fell on his behind and Steve grabbed his shield, about to knock the base on Blue's head. Blue grabbed it, managing to scrap it along the wood instead of in his head.
"Need back-up," Clint grunted, and Blue heard a gun go off. His Master and Natasha were fighting, and it looked like Natasha had been winning. "Some help would be appreciated, Tony."
Steve pinned Blue to the floor, holding his arms above him, "Snap out of it!" Steve ordered. Blue kneed him in the side and sank his claws in Steve's hand. Steve hissed, wincing, and Blue hit him again.
Steve finally let go, and Blue swung his legs around him, wrapping his arms under Steve's neck as the man tried to pry him away, gagging. Clint grabbed an arrow and stabbed Blue's leg with it. He felt pain and electricity course through his body, and he howled in pain, releasing Steve.
He saw red-and-gold metal suit fly in the room through the window, his hands pointed at both Blue and his Master. His Master saw the man and grimace, "Stand down, now," It demanded, and Blue recognized Tony's voice.
Blue breathed, his arms shaking and feeling exhausted. He saw his Master stare at Tony before raising his gun. Natasha saw what he was pointing at, but didn't get to stop him fast enough.
His Master shot the large cabinet showcasing his array of guns and ammunition twice. Blue dove, shielding Steve with his back just as he felt a sharp, burning wave of heat.
They both flew back, hitting the wall. Blue coughed, smoke quickly filling the room. Blue's back burned and he didn't want to move at all. His ears rang loudly, and he rubbed at them, wincing. He looked down, Steve was blearily looking around, his shield in his hand by his side.
Blue looked, squinting through the sudden smoke and flames. Clint was a few feet away, coughing and hacking, as flames spread just behind him.
Blue stumbled to his feet, going over and grabbing Clint's arm, trying to drag him away. He breathed heavily, trying to see through the smoke. Something was shining through the smoke, and a minute later, Tony was in front of him, he waved towards Clint, trying to say something, but Blue couldn't hear him. Tony grabbed Clint's arm, heaving him over his shoulder.
Blue looked around, Steve was across the room, helping Natasha get out the window. Tony's hand closed around Blue's wrist, but Blue yanked his arm away, looking, confused.
The flames cracked and popped around him, and Blue saw the body of his Master in it. Blue ran, coughing as the flames burned his legs and arms. Blue whined, trying to drag his Master away.
"Protect your Master at all costs ― even if you have to die to do so."
Blue choked, his legs and arms feeling as if they were going to fall off, but he couldn't leave his Master here. He couldn't leave his Master to die. He had to save his Master. He had to save his life. Protect him at all costs. Failure wasn't an option. Breathe in, failure wasn't an option, out. Save him, steady and consistent and coughing. Steady and ― breath in ― steady ― out.
He heard a crack and huddled over his Master's body, He couldn't breathe ― he was going to die ― he couldn't breathe ― help ― Steve, apples and seawater Steve ― help ― couldn't breathe ― the doctor
He felt something wrap around his body, but Blue clung to his Master. Someone was shouting, and a minute later, both he and his Master were picked up, and flown out of the room.
Blue was shaking and he couldn't stop and he couldn't breathe and he was going to die and everything hurt and he was so tired and
"Look at me! Hey! Don't close your eyes! Look at me, Blue!" Someone shouted at him, but everything hurt so bad.
"There you are, B," they laughed. "Hey, hey, eyes on me, keep your eyes on me, alright? Okay?" Blue moaned, "I know it hurts, I know―"
"That's what happens when you run into a fire!" Someone snapped.
"Shut the hell up, Stark!"
Blue's eyes rolled back, and for a minute there was blissful silence and peace and he was so sleepy―
"Wake up!" Someone pinched him and Blue hissed, tears sprouting. Everything was loud, and someone was grabbing him and strapping something on his face.
"Breathe for me, okay kid?" Someone said. He felt someone touch his legs and he whined. "Second-degree burns on his legs."
"Keep him awake!"
"Blue, look at me," Someone held his hand. "Hey there, B. You're going to be okay, alright? Don't worry, you're going to be fine."
That was the last thing Blue heard.