12. Rescued 12

The room was filled with a smell like ozone, sour and sweet and electric, the perfume of flowers from an alien world. Clint knew it like he knew the scars on his hands. The blue in Phil's eyes did not light up the room but made him look even sicker, as if a blue fungus was eating him from the inside out.

Clint stumbled, surprised at himself for losing his bearing, then realized it was because the dogs were at his feet, pushing him out of the room. Stevie was all but body-slamming his shins to get him to move while Bucky barked at Phil while walking—scooting, really—backwards. Clint could not stop staring at Phil's face, even as he made it to the hallway, because there was nothing but animosity and hatred there. Donut had gone from purring to rumbling in a growly way that Clint had never heard from her before.

Phil was glaring at him, hard and unforgiving, the blue threads shifting as he took in everything about Clint he could see. He focused on Donut, and Clint pulled the sling so it covered her completely as the dogs finally herded him clear of the room.

Natasha slammed the door shut behind her and walked up to Clint, cradling his face in her hands. "Clint? Talk to me."

"I'm here. I'm here." He nodded, his eyes on the closed door.

An even louder alarm went off and there followed a huge row of commotion down the hall as Iron Man and Captain America stomped towards them.

"Where's Bruce?" Natasha snapped while Clint wondered how the hell the two of them got there.

The faceplate on Stark moved back. "Probably just coming up on the elevator. He didn't want me to carry him while I blew out half the wall on this floor, so he insisted on going through the front door." Stark shrugged as if that made no sense to him.

Natasha patted Clint's arm and then sprinted off to clear the way for Banner.

Steve stepped forward, his mere presence with his uniform and shield and attitude taking up most of the hallway. "What's happened?"

"Barton, as usual, stuck his damn nose into a blender," Fury snapped, trying to push past Iron Man.

"Fuck you, Sir," Clint hissed, both hands wrapped around Donut and trying not to have a complete PTSD meltdown. He was mostly pissed that it meant months of therapy had just been washed down the drain.

"You put out the emergency call, Hawkeye. Report." Steve stood and stared at him, and the formality of it calmed Clint down. Steve only called him Hawkeye in the field, on a mission, and thinking about it that way let Clint get some air in his lungs.

"Through that door, Captain." He tightened his hold on the leashes, although with the dogs huddled around his feet he wasn't sure it was necessary. "I think it'll be pretty clear."

Steve gave him a confused look but turned and opened the door, holding up his shield as a precaution.

"Fuck me sideways," Stark hissed, the face plate slamming back down.

Steve let the shield drop, then turned to Fury. "Give me one good reason not to throw you out of the hole Stark made in the building just now."

"Close the fucking door and I'll explain," Fury snapped.

Steve took another look into where Phil was sitting on the bed, rigid and seething, glaring daggers at Clint, then closed the door.

"He's going to lie," Clint warned.

"No kidding," Stark said, allowing the face plate to retract again. "Tell us something we don't know."

"Agent Barton will call me on my shit, as he's been doing that now for the last fifteen minutes. Do you find that acceptable?" Fury crossed his arms, daring Steve to challenge him.

"Wait until Banner gets here," Steve started before being interrupted by the door to Phil's room opening and a doctor walking out. Clint saw Phil, before the door swung shut again, his eyes bright blue and scouring everything they saw. Clint remembered vividly how that felt, to be looking at the world through a haze of magic that made his mind pliable but put his surroundings into high relief. Clint had never seen better in his life, and he was a world record holder with the best human eyesight ever measured. But that was all about the ability to focus, while the magic was about the ability to absorb and be absorbed.

Phil was completely absorbed by the power that was driving him, and the memory of that sensation made Clint's hands shake.

Donut understood something, because she was curled up against him, purring loudly. Clint thought the feeling of her little purr-engine in his hands was enough to make him cry, but instead he kept taking large gulps of air. The Cor-mmandos paced around him nervously.

"Clint." Captain America's solid, confident voice broke through Clint's wild thoughts.

"Yeah."

"Agent, I need your status," the Captain said, his tone brooking no argument.

"Trying to hold it together." Clint clutched at Donut, trying not to squish her. He forcibly softened his fingers and started stroking her fur.

"Understood. Can you stand?"

Clint looked up at him and realized for the first time that he had slid down the wall to the floor. Dum Dum was strewn over his feet like a corgi sacrifice, holding him down. "Dog, move. Move." Clint kicked a little and Dum Dum bounced up. Stevie barked at him and Bucky circled them a few times then ran up and down the hallway doing recon, before shooting back to nose at Stevie and Dum Dum again.

Steve grabbed Clint's arm, helping him up. He gave Clint a tired grin. "What a mess."

"A huge big fucking mess, yes sir." Clint nodded, petting Donut like a Bond villain. Steve reached out and rubbed a huge, gloved finger over her head. She squinted her eyes closed and purred even harder.

"How's our girl?"

"Holding me together, to be honest."

Bruce showed up, shadowing Natasha, who was looking murderous enough that everyone instinctively backed away as she passed.

"Natasha explained," Bruce said simply. He stopped next to Clint and leaned in to scratch Donut's chin, peering at the door to Phil's room.

Steve turned to Fury. "Okay. Now we're assembled. Explain."

Fury nodded and gave them the same story he had given Clint, and Clint responded by telling them his own conclusions.

Steve bounced his shield on his arm, which he tended to do when he was thinking. He had pushed the cowl back but that was apparently as relaxed as he intended to get. "Stark, you and Banner get in there and figure out what we need to do about Agent Coulson moved out of here."

"Now wait a minute—" Fury stepped up to Steve.

"You lied, and then you kept lying. That is a good man in there who deserves more than to be an experiment locked in the basement. So back off, Director. We'll talk about this later," Steve snapped, his temper finally showing through. The ninth floor was hardly the basement, but no one was going to call Steve on it right then. Clint knew he wasn't looking like much of a challenge, but Natasha stood next to Steve with a look of pure venom and both Bruce and Tony looked ready to pounce. Fury looked at Steve for a long moment, then moved forward, sailing past them and heading out of the ward without another word.

Steve gestured at Tony and Bruce with the field hand signal to "move forward." They nodded and walked into Phil's room, closing the door behind them. Clint leaned back against the wall again and started petting Donut again. Natasha settled up against him, leaning on him a little.

Steve turned to Clint. "You want to leave now? Go back to the tower; we'll let you know when we're on the way."

"No sir, I'll stay for the transport. I don't think I could drag the dogs out of here anyway." Clint shrugged. He, Steve and Natasha stood quietly in the hallway, SHIELD agents far down from them keeping an eye on things for Fury but otherwise staying clear.

Tony bounced out of Phil's room, his suit packed away for the moment and his manic energy from the excitement of finding Phil spilling over everything as he explained to Steve their plan for moving him to a medical ward at the tower. Bucky bounced around Tony's heels and Stevie started barking again. Clint tugged on the leashes to drag them back before Tony got bitchy again.

"The dogs! I completely forgot!"

Clint glared at him, but Tony was looking down at Bucky. He tapped his ear comm. "JARVIS, let the med transport guys know we've got three dogs and their sitter to take along for the ride. And a cat. I'll pay whatever premiums, and extra to have the vehicle vacuumed cleaned, whatever. Just do it."

Clint looked at him. "Thanks."

Tony grinned at him. "Can't have our little heroes left behind!" He reached down and awkwardly patted Bucky on his head, then marched back in to help Bruce with something.

"It's pretty obvious he was never raised around actual, living animals," Steve sighed.

"Or living humans, from what I can tell," Clint agreed.

Steve snorted. "He said it should be about 20 minutes, and we'll all roll out of here together. You've got the dogs okay?"

Clint wrapped the leashes around his hand again, and petted Donut, who had purred herself into sleepy oblivion and was snoring with her mouth open. "I got it. Let's just get Phil home."