Pawprints

"JARVIS, where are Stark and Clint?" Steve asked impatiently. It had been forty minutes, and there was still no sign of them.

"Mr Barton and Sir are heading up now." JARVIS announced coolly. At that moment, the lift door slid open and Clint stepped out, with Tony trotting beside him.

"Clint, you're late." Natasha sighed, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. Bruce brought out their bowls of pasta from the oven, and Clint sat down and started eating. Tony was at a loss. As Bruce brought out his bowl, he whined in confusion and looked up.

"Oh, uh, Tony! You can't sit on the chair, the table is too high so..."Bruce mumbled, then brightened. "I can put the bowl on a stool for you, then you can reach! But you'll have to sit on the floor." Tony huffed disdainfully, but went along with the plan.

However, as he sat in front of the bowl, Tony realised that he couldn't use utensils. "Oh shit...I have to use my mouth to pick up the food..."Tony groaned inwardly as the thought dawned on him. Carefully putting his front legs on the stool, he stood on his two hind legs and bent forward. Putting his muzzle near the food, he opened his mouth...and scored a piece of chicken.

Sitting back down, he proudly chewed the chicken up and ate it. Deciding to do it again, he stood on his hind legs, opened his mouth, and got a whole mouthful of pasta. Clint looked over to see what Tony was doing, and nearly spewed his mouthful of bolognese. "'Ony looksh sho kewt!" he grinned as best as he could at Tony. Tony tried his best to roll his eyes (who knew that rolling your eyes as a dog is exhausting?) and dug into his pasta some more. However, he failed to notice that as he nosed the pasta, the bowl was sliding further and further away from him, and it was teetering on the edge...

"Crash!" the bowl of pasta landed on the floor and broke into hundreds of ceramic pieces. Tony yelped in surprise, dropped to all fours and retreated backwards. Clint, who had thankfully swallowed his mouthful of pasta, broke out into giggles and not-so-discreetly whispered, "JARVIS, photo!" Hearing what Clint said, Tony barked angrily and looked guiltily at Bruce, who simply sighed but cracked a smile as he said, "Oh well, I better clean this up. You were nearly done anyway." Tony shot a doggy-grin at Bruce who returned it as he picked up the ceramic shards carefully.

Looking at the other two Avengers, he saw Steve's scowl and quickly looked away, then he saw Natasha's expressionless face which he quickly dismissed, since half the time Natasha had an expressionless mask in place.

"Hey, Tony!" Looking back, he saw Clint's hands grab at him and darted out of reach. Mock-glaring at him, he made another half-hearted grab before continuing,"Now that you're a dog, you can't work in your lab anymore, so you can finally spend movie night with the team!" Glaring at Clint, he tried to stalk off to the lab (he didn't know what he could do there anyway, he just wanted out), but was stopped by the looming figure of Clint in front of him. Trying to go around him, Tony was picked up by a pair of strong hands. Turning around in surprise, his jaw dropped when he saw Natasha holding him, her eyes betraying a hint of amusement.

"Hey, thanks Nat!" Clint thanked Natasha in surprise. Handing a struggling Tony to Clint, she headed for the Movie Room. Exchanging a look with Clint, Tony gave the doggy version of a sigh and turned limp in Clint's hands. "Huh. Natasha just helped me get you. Is she sick or something?" Clint muttered to himself, still pretty shocked as he followed Natasha to the Movie Room.

The rest of the team were already gathered there. "Tony will be joining us tonight!" Clint announced proudly in a booming voice, jumping onto a sofa and putting Tony one side. "I should think so..." Steve glared at Tony. Tony looked away, his ears drooping comically.

Noticing the change in mood but not knowing the cause of it, Clint frowned, "Hey, Tony! You can choose since you're the one who was turned into a dog!" Spreading out a whole pile of DVDs, Clint smiled as Tony slowly returned to being his energetic self again. Nosing through the pile of DVDs as if he was choosing from a buffet, Tony put his paw on his chin in deep thought.

Suddenly, he saw a DVD which was buried underneath the entire stack. He pounced on it and dragged it out, tail wagging so fast it looked like a helicopter blade. "How to Train Your Dragon?" Clint read aloud. He heard a laugh from Bruce and turned to look questioningly at him. Bruce shook his head and explained, "Tony and I watched it once after a lab binge. He was kinda drunk and I couldn't sleep, so I put it on." Tony barked affirmatively and nosed the DVD more aggressively.

"Okay, okay! we'll put this on!" Clint laughed as he turned on the giant TV in front of them.

As the movie started, Tony's tail stopped wagging, and he became completely transfixed by the television. He was obviously a huge fan of Toothless, barking happily when he was freed by Hiccup. Halfway through the movie, Clint started stroking Tony's soft fur, and Tony didn't even notice. After the first movie, Steve decided to turn in, and Bruce went to the lab to try and find the chemical ("Or magic," Bruce had said thoughtfully) inside the gun that had affected Tony. Tony quickly chose another movie to put on ("Finding Nemo?" Clint read) and they watched that. After that, they were all getting a little sleepy, but Tony chose another movie ("Bolt?") and they watched that.

One by one, they all dropped off, Tony falling asleep last. Just as Bolt met Mittens, his eyelids drooped and he fell asleep.

When Tony woke up again, he found himself in the building again. The one where he was shot. To his delight, he was still human. Running out of the building, he saw his team standing around a casualty. Usually, they would have expressions of sorrow on their faces, but to his horror, they were smiling and laughing. Going closer, he asked in horror, "Why are you guys laughing? It's a casualty!"

When he looked down at the casualty, he gaped and reeled backwards. It was HIM. The casualty was him! Looking at his team, he heard a loud explosion sound near him. Looking up, it was the alien spaceship. The one in the portal. "No, no! I closed the portal! This isn't happening!" His eyes transfixed on the alien ship dropping bombs on the civilians, Tony screamed. Turning back to check on his team, his eyes grew wide as they dropped down one by one like stones as the alien ship quickly fired at them. Running back, he heard a someone whisper at him, "You could have saved us...You didn't."

Another chimed in, "You're nobody. Can't even save your own team." The voices surrounded him, pushing him down, breaking his will as he screamed in agony, tears dripping down from his cheeks.

Tony woke up on the couch in cold sweat. Clint's hand was still on his back. Shaking it off as gently as he could, he jumped down, shivering. Brushing past Natasha's leg, he headed to a random room and jumped onto the bed there. From time to time, he whimpered, still not quite believing what he had dreamed wasn't real. It was going to be a long night.

Natasha was woken up by a light brush over her leg. Instantly alert, she looked beside her and noted that while Clint was still blissfully asleep, Tony was missing.

Slipping off the couch, Natasha padded towards the kitchen. Halfway there, she heard a whimper coming from a nearby room. Going inside, she saw Tony curled up in himself, shivering in fear. "Nightmare," her brain supplied.

Going closer, she sat beside him and tentatively put a hand on him. Tony stiffened, a whimper cut in half, but slowly relaxed into her hand.

"Say something," the part of her brain that kept strong throughout the Black Widow programme hissed, and she did. "I get nightmares, too," Natasha whispered. "About ghosts, people I couldn't save." Tony had stopped whimpering, listening closely to her.

"Sometimes it overwhelms me. Consumes me, even. But some people...we can't save. It's not our fault." Natasha continued. "And we just have to...let go." Tony's breathing slowed, and they sat there in silence for the rest of the night.