4. Rescued 4

Clint wondered just what in the hell he had gotten himself into. He had not planned on being the legal caretaker of the Cor-mmandos, but apparently Phil had. After the reading of Phil's will, which was short and bittersweet, Clint had sat in Fury's office, stunned speechless until Natasha punched him in the arm and told him it was his own fault for adopting a cat. Clint didn't really see the connection, but he was still too grief-stricken about Phil to argue.

When he got to Phil's apartment that evening, it had been three days since Phil had died. The funeral had been held quickly, along with the rest of the funerals for SHIELD agents, and Clint had strategically stayed far away. Everyone knew that he had been under the control of Loki during the attack on the helicarrier, but even Clint could be sensitive to the fact that people might still be angry at him about it. He knew for a fact how irrational grief could be. Instead, Clint had picked up the address and keys to Phil's place and headed out to take charge of the most important things in Phil's life, because that had been Phil's last order to Clint and that made it, in a strange way, sacred.

Most of Manhattan was still a federal disaster area, and Phil's dog sitter had only been by once because she could not get out of her own block after the attack had started. It was pure luck that Phil had put her on duty before things got bad with Loki, but even so, Clint had walked into an apartment that was soiled with pee and poop. The dogs were frantic with hunger and worry, and it wasn't until Clint had watched them eat two measured servings of their food that he really looked around and took in just how momentously his life had changed.

He did not even bother cleaning the place up. Professional cleaners were slated to come in once Phil's things were handed over to his sister in Minnesota, so it didn't matter. Clint put the dogs on leashes, loaded all of their dog beds and bowls and food and toys into the trunk of the SHIELD sedan he was driving, and headed straight for Avengers neé Stark Tower. Tony had already invited each of the avengers to set up there, mostly in temporary quarters until Tony got the top floors fixed back up.

Clint didn't really have much of a plan, all he knew was that his crappy apartment could not hold him, three dogs and Donut. He walked through the lobby with the Cor-mmandos on high alert, excited and nervous and upset.

"Agent Barton!" Captain America's voice rang through the large, marble-encrusted lobby. The few necessary staff who were there all stopped to stare as the American icon walked through the place, conspicuous even in overalls, work boots and a plaid flannel shirt. "I had no idea you had dogs!" Captain America grinned and went down on one knee. The Cor-mmandos, predictably, went crazy for him, wagging and whining and rubbing themselves all over him. Clint figured that was probably a common reaction to anyone meeting the Captain for the first time.

"They aren't mine." Clint tugged at the leashes uselessly.

"No? Then why are you walking them?" He looked up at Clint, genuinely confused.

"They are…they were Phil's."

The captain's face dropped. "I'm so sorry. He left them to you?" Steve kept petting them, the dogs jumping all over each other trying to get his attention. It was shameless and embarrassing but tugging on the leashes was doing nothing. Clint tried to remember how Phil used to bring them in line.

"Yeah, and I don't have room for them. So I was going to take up Stark's offer on a place. I've got their stuff in the trunk and—"

"I'll get it!" Steve jumped up, almost like an eager puppy himself. Sighing, Clint walked them back to the car where the dogs barked happily as all of their things were pulled out and stacked into Captain Rogers' arms. Clint eyed him dubiously.

"We can make two trips."

"No! The puppies need their stuff. It's going to be weird enough being in a new place, I imagine."

"They aren't puppies," Clint grumbled as they marched back through the lobby, Captain Rogers barely visible behind the stack of dog beds, the large box of toys and dishes, and a huge bag of dog food.

"What are their names?" Steve asked, deftly stepping over the dogs to get into the elevator, punching a code in for one of the upper floors with his pinky, which was the only finger he had free.

Clint paused.

"Agent Barton?"

"Call me Clint," Clint said, buying for time.

"Okay! Call me Steve."

"Great! Steve. Good."

"Uh, what are the dogs' names?"

"Look, I'll tell you their names, just don't…don't say anything."

Behind the box and bag and beds, Steve made a confused sound of agreement.

"Okay, the big blonde one is Stevie. The smaller dark, brindled one is Bucky. The fat red-haired one is Dum Dum."

The dogs danced around happily when they heard their names, but Steve didn't move.

"Phil was a fan, you knew that, right?"

"I…I knew that," Steve said weakly.

The door opened onto a broad, bright room that had several couches, a bar, and an entertainment system. The dogs pulled Clint out and Steve followed, dropping the stuff in his arms to the side. Tony walked in less than a minute later, while Clint was untangling leashes.

"JARVIS told me you were—What the hell?"

Clint opened his mouth to cuss the man out, but Steve stepped up in full command mode. "Tony, these are Phil Coulson's dogs. He left them to Clint, and he's moving in here."

"Over my dead body."

"You invited him, Tony. It's a package deal."

"I did not invite a pack of ravaging hounds!"

"They're corgis," Clint offered, but Steve motioned for him to step back.

"Tony, it's all or nothing. Can we really leave Phil's beloved dogs behind?"

"Yes!"

Steve crossed his arms. "No."

Tony rolled his eyes, but Clint could tell the battle was already over. He stood up. "I just need to know where my place is."

"Temp quarters are on the 43rd floor. Small, two-bedroom suites that were going to be executive suites for temporary…never mind. Forty-third floor. Pick any suite that doesn't have a name on it."

Natasha and Pepper appeared, walking out of the elevator. Pepper squealed. "Puppies!" She immediately went to her knees while the dogs wagged and barked and tried to crawl into her non-existent lap. Natasha skirted around them and took in Tony, Steve and Clint.

"You really brought the Howling Cor-mmandos to live in Avengers Tower?" She said skeptically.

Steve blanched and Tony laughed out loud. Clint just glared at Natasha. "It's what Phil would want. And my apartment is too fucking small, you know that."

Her eyebrows arched up. "And what about Donut?"

"Oh! Who is Donut?" Pepper asked from under the pile of fluffy corgis.

Clint dropped his face into his hands while Natasha laughed at him.