He Came to Stay (Blue x Bad Guys)

1

*here I go again. Warnings for drug use and violence

Nightmare remembered when he first met Blue. He had found Dust the day before, totalling their group number to four, as Horror and Cross had yet to join. Back then, Blue had been...what was the word for it? Cocky? Spunky? Something along those lines. The point of the matter being he had energy. He could dance around the others and fight for hours. It was, to be fairly honest, quite impressive.
Lately, Nightmare had noted a change in that behavior. Blue seemed to be tired, almost to the point of passing out. Now, one fight might have been fine, everyone had off days sometimes. But this was CONSTANT. This was every fight, all the time.
Nightmare liked to believe he knew his brother. Dream could read auras the same way he could,so if one of them could tell that Blue was in a constant state of exhaustion and stress, the other should be able to as well. But Dream wasn't doing anything, as far as Nightmare could tell.
He could tell the others could see this as well. So much so that they'd actually started to slow down on their attacks to make things easier for him. None of them would ever admit it, but it was clear to Nightmare that's what they were doing.
But, it was clear more had to be done. Nightmare could see Blue continuing to deteriorate, and he had decided to intervene. Of course, this meant talking to his boys before hand.
"I called you down to ask you if you have noticed the change in our opponents, specifically Blue."
There was a looking around of the others, and then each of them nodded, slowly and with some minor concern on their faces.
"Good. This will make all of this easier." Nightmare cleared his throat. "I'm planning to go on a sort of rescue mission. Blue is obviously not well,and either through negligence or abuse, Dream and Ink aren't helping. I know he won't like us at first, but hopefully, at the very least, we will be able to bring him back to a semi-healthy state."
This was the complicated part. He didn't know what his boys thought of Blue, or if they could accept him, or this offer. But there was no objections, so the plan was put into action the following day.

Blue was tired. All the time. But when you live with gods who don't sleep or eat, a break isn't something you get often, if ever.
He lost count of all the times he had considered quitting. But they were the good guys. They were the only thing standing between Nightmare's gang and the rest of the multiverse.
So he stopped eating. He made himself a custom brew with caffeine, sugar, and whatever drugs he could get his hands on. He kept up. But he was exhausted.
Dream and Ink never helped. In fact, they encouraged his actions, sometimes even offering to buy today's latest substance from whatever shady corner Blue's dealer hung out in.
Blue wasn't just keeping up with Dream and Ink, either. He was doing more than them, helping after each destroyed AU, going on extra patrols. He was carrying the team, and yet, it felt like they weren't a team at all.
At first, Blue had admired Dream. Hell, the little skeleton had practially been crushing on Dream from day one. But, as the weeks and months plodded on, Blue realized that Dream didn't care. Maybe he couldn't care.
Blue was taking a rest today. It was actually really strange to have a break, since he had the ability to go on for days on end, so he was still trying to be as alert as he could. But it was nice to be able to lay in one place. He was acutely aware of just how sore he was, but he wasn't going to get up to stretch or anything.
There was a crash downstairs. Dream had probably dropped something. And the footsteps on the stairs were probably him coming up to beg Blue to get up and help. He sighed, slowly heaving himself into an upright position. Everything ached.
As his door slammed open, Blue opened his mouth to tell Dream he was coming down to help, but froze. The person standing in the doorway wasn't Ink or Dream.
Killer grinned at him, empty eyes alight with a hidden joy. "Hey there." Blue struggled to stand, but the fatigue had got to him. His knees blucked and he slumped to the floor. He was aware of Killer talking to someone else above him, but his body refused to acknowledge the situation, and his vision faded to black.

When he woke up, the first thing that registered was the nausea. As quickly as he could, leaning against the wall, he hobbled to the bathroom door across the room, ignoring his surroundings. He reached the toilet just in time as the limited contents of his 'stomach' came back up. Leaning over the recepticle, as wave after wave of nausea washed over him, Blue forced himself not to cry. This happened once every week or so, his body fighting back against everything he put it through. It had become another unpleasent but regular experience.
After a few minutes of dry heaving, Blue pushed himself up, flushing the toilet and leaning over the sink to wash out his mouth. Then, splashing some water on his face, he finally took the time to look around.
The room was too nice. Blue had been vaguely expecting to be thrown in a dark room, or a cell of some kind. Instead, a king size bed lay against one wall, with two ornately carved bedside tables framing it. There was a large picture window, covered in long, dark blue drapes on an adjoining wall, and next to the door was a desk with a mirror attatched to it. Against the wall that led to the bathroom was a walk-in closet, already stocked with comfortable clothing, with a few fancy items mixed in. Overall, the room seemed to have a sort of ocean theme, as everything was different shades of blue, and there were shells hanging from the light fixture. The lamps on the bedside tables even had mermaids on them.
There was a knock at the door, and Blue froze, still leaning against the bathroom door for support. On the other side of the door, he could hear Dust's voice. "You up yet? This is my third time checking, man, there's no way you can still be asleep."
Blue thought about trying to run back to the bed, but in the state he was in, he couldn't run, or do much of anything. He'd have to go along with what they wanted for now. "I'm up." His voice was cracked and broken, probably from throwing up his guts just a moment ago. He sounded pathetic.
"Jeez, what happened to you?" Dust opened the door, seeing Blue leaning against the wall. His legs were still shaking from the effort it took to hold him upright. Dust frowned. "Alright, come on, it's lunch time. You need help?"
"I can do it myself." Blue growled. Any sign of weakness could be taken advantage of. He took a step forward...
And fell on his face. Grunting in pain, he felt himself lifted up, and began to struggle against Dust's attempts to help him, but he quickly stopped as his body cried out in pain, slumping against his captor instead.
"Okay, yeah, you need food. You're worse than Horror..." Dust muttered, as he practially carried Blue out of the room and down the stairs.
The others were already seated once Blue and Dust managed to make it to the dining room. They all looked up, and Blue saw...worry, on every face. Great. They pitied him.
Dust helped him to sit down in one of the chairs, between him and Horror, then took his own seat. No one commented on Blue's state, and Nightmare hastily started the meal.
Blue didn't take anything. He could find some stuff to put together later, so he could kick their asses and get back to his job. But the others weren't having any of that.
"The food isn't poisoned, you know." Cross piped up. "If we can eat it, you can eat it."
"Not hungry." Blue mumbled.
Horror turned to him, eyes wide. He put a hand on Blue's shoulder,making the other look up at him. "Yes. You are. I can see it. Eat now."
Blue looked away again, curling up in his chair. "I said I'm fine."
Nightmare put his silverware down, looking over at Blue. "You most certainly are not. I can see you're exhausted, and Dust had to drag you down here. You will eat by yourself, or I will be forced to hand feed you."
That did it. Blue picked out a few small things, just enough to tide him over for a while, and started to eat. With the first bite, his body, having been deprived of real food for months on end, cried out in joy. He forced his excitement down, and ate as slowly as he could. He ate everything on his plate and sat back, praying that Nightmare found that good enough to leave him alone. He was wrong.
Blue felt himself get lifted up, placed gently in Nightmare's lap as the other piled some more food onto his plate. "What you had barely qualifies as a snack. I did warn you. I'm not letting you go until you eat a proper meal." Cutting up some of the food, Nightmare held up a bite to Blue's mouth. Blue turned his head away in protest.
"Are you that thick skulled? Must I treat you like a toddler?" The words made Blue feel like curling up and crying, but there wasn't going to be any of that. Properly humiliated, he accepted the food off of Nightmare's fork. This continued with every bite, Blue trying to protest, Nightmare vaguely threatening more restictive action, Blue accepting the offering in humiliation. Nightmare wasn't proud of his actions, but he knew Blue hadn't eaten in a while, and he'd be damned if he didn't try to get the other to eat as much as possible.
Finally, Nightmare let Blue go. "Thank you. I promise you'll feel much better. Killer, help him back to his room. He needs more rest."
Blue didn't fight back this time. He was tired. Very tired. He leaned against Killer at the black-eyed skeleton led him back up to his room.
"Want me to tuck you in?" Killer chuckled as the two of them reached the bed. "Maybe read you a story?"
Blue didn't respond, instead flopping onto the bed, curling up in the middle, and falling asleep immediately. Raising a brow, Killer shrugged, pulling the covers around Blue as best he could before leaving.