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Probably the most shocking thing about Phil's interviews is that they went well.
Everyone that Skye or Pepper called on his behalf to ask about giving an interview agreed almost immediately and changed their programming to do it. Previously planned segments were removed, moved, or just plain dropped in exchange for frantic planning around their new guest. Dates were discussed, and security concerns were rampant. Eventually Phil agreed to let Steve and Clint accompany him.
Phil did feel a little exasperated when they met him in full gear though. "We're driving to another neighborhood in the same city so I can be on Comedy Central."
"And?" Clint wanted to know.
He decided that was hard to argue with, so he didn't.
There was definitely comedy in it all, but the core of the discussion was serious, the questions and topics weighty. Stewart's introduction to the show warned they weren't going to try to keep it funny because sometimes, it is more important to get information out. Phil didn't try to keep it light, just answered questions evenly and calmly, and admitted when he didn't immediately have answers to the questions.
"It's easy to say the Agency isn't gone. I'm here, I have people. The reality of the situation is we lost over 95% of the Agency. We lost almost all our bases, at least for now. All of our training facilities are compromised. Most of our craft is gone. We've lost all the helicarriers and in the wake of HYDRA, I'm not going to bet we will ever get another."
"I think most of the world is still trying to understand the concept of 'flying aircraft carrier.'" Stewart replied.
Phil smiled a touch before his expression became serious again. "Human losses were ... we still don't have accurate numbers. During the events many facilities turned into circular firing squads. Easily a quarter of the agency is dead, maybe more. I am now operating on a staff of well under a thousand when that was easily what was in just the Triskelion. So when you ask what the future is? I really don't know. Right now, we're just trying to survive, and keep to the original purpose. Protect the public. Intercept and contain unusual threats."
"I have read your report on human experimentation. I think it's safe to say there is going to be a lot of fallout from it. You named names and pointed a lot of fingers. Some see it as trying to deflect blame."
"Yes and no. I do not deny my role. I was briefly supervisory over a project involving human testing before attempting to resign over it. I think my karma balances though as I then became a victim of that experiment."
"You realize I can't just let you leave it at that. There is obviously a story there."
Phil paused and looked offstage, at where Steve and Clint stood, before looking back. "Before the attack on New York that Loki was involved with, there was an attack on the helicarrier. I was a casualty. Not an injury, a death. Loki had a scepter with a large blade on one end." He stood and turned his back to the camera, reaching back with one hand. "Entry wound is just above my hand. Entered there," He turned and put his hand on his chest, "Exited there. Looks like an open heart surgery scar, from the front anyway. I was dead for a few days." He sat back down, lacing his hands in his lap and watching Stewart's face. "Then I was put through a barbaric procedure to make me live again that included removing my skullcap to reconstruct my brain. There have been side effects; most particularly it destroyed the glands in my head that made me a dom." He picked up his coffee and took a drink. "I have had a supremely difficult year. I'm friends with my childhood hero now, so, that's kind of cool."
The studio was dead silent for a full ten seconds.
"Do you have any idea how many people are going to be calling you demanding you bring people back from the dead?"
Phil snorted. "I imagine North Korea is trying to impose sanctions as we speak for not using the tech to save their glorious Supreme Leader. Good for them, we'll see how it works out."
From there the conversation lightened considerably, but then, there really wasn't anywhere to go but up.
At the end of the interview, Steve and Clint stepped onto the stage. Steve was used to lights and entertainment and stepped back into that role with an easy smile, shaking hands and head held high. Clint managed a smile, staying by Phil.
May and Skye were out by the cars when they all finally exited the studio (Phil walking off stage to applause, some people actually standing while they did). Both looked harried, Skye scrolling a tablet as fast as she could.
"Dropping a bomb would have had less impact than what you talked about." Skye said. "You're trending everywhere. You are now the nightly news."
"I thought it went well. I'm sure the people interviewing me in the next few days are scrambling and rewriting everything. Is something else going on?"
"Yes. You need to come back to base right now." May replied. "The Red Eyes are back."
"Well, shit."
Red Eyes. Life Model Decoys.
A sort of joke in the agency, really. A rumor. Few people knew the program was an actuality so it was almost a ghost story combined with an insult. Phil had gotten called an LMD to his face a lot before he died.
During the fall of the Triskelion, they had all disappeared. No found wrecked bodies, no reports. Just gone.
All eighty or so of them.
It had been near the top of Phil's "find out what happened because I am fucking worried about this" list.
Stark Tower did have an actual loading dock, thank everything, and a full sized semi-truck was backed up to it. Phil recognized it immediately as one of SHIELD's trucks, complete with one of their truck drivers.
He mentally added the shipping division to his fucking-worried list and shamed himself for forgetting about it. "Can we get that agent some housing and any goddamn food they want while they're here? And keep him here; we need to know what's happening in shipping. Our trucks might be really goddamn valuable right now."
"You got it, boss." Skye stepped away to speak to the trucker, May walking with her.
"So, Red Eyes." Steve said as they walked inside.
"You have my permission to accompany me. You too, Clint."
"Like you can keep me out." Clint replied.
"That better include me." Tony ran up, converse skidding on the lobby floor. "My largest conference room in the building is packed. JARVIS counted eighty-three human or human-like, a few large things we're honestly not sure about and three dogs."
Phil's face lit up. "Thanks for the heads-up. What's your issue, Tony, you like robots." He hit the button for the elevator.
"Yes, I do. Robots and AIs are my jam." Tony replied enthusiastically. "Which is why I am kind of annoyed I wasn't let in on this."
"Dogs?" Steve asked as he got in the elevator, Clint stepping in last.
"Agent Canis." Phil replied.
"The dogs are Agents?" Tony asked, head tipping a bit. The elevator moved without any real cue from them.
"The dogs are an Agent."
Clint blinked. "Oh. Shit. Agent Madison! Right?"
"Right, now goes by Agent Canis." Phil agreed. The elevator doors opened again and Phil led the way out, ignoring the others in favor of opening the doors to a conference room, pausing when a multitude of glowing red eyes were already staring at him, obviously waiting. "Welcome back, Agents. We were wondering. Is this all of the ground forces?"
"At this time, yes. There are three injured in the truck." One of the LMDs stepped forward, offering a hand. He looked normal once the red glow in his eyes went away, leaving him a normal-appearing Japanese man. "I'm Agent Saito, I've been elected primary speaker for the time being though others may speak as they see fit. Our water and air forces are currently as far away from surveillance as they can get."
"Understandable. I'm Acting Director Coulson; I think I've met most of you. With me are Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and Agent Clint Barton."
The group nodded more or less in unison. The three dogs all came up and worked their way to the front. They were built like German Shepherds, but without skin or fur, showing bare metal and casing. It also left them without external ears, smooth skulls dimly reflecting light. Their chests had different colored stars painted, but they were otherwise entirely identical.
"Agent Canis, you appear to be nude. Actually a disturbing amount of you are bare framed. What happened?"
"I never got my fur, sir. I was arguing about it with them. I wanted standard Shepherd colorations." Replied the center dog, making Tony jump and Steve lift an eyebrow.
"And they disagreed?"
All three dogs bared their teeth in unison. "They wanted to print my fur in digital camo with the colors matching my unit designations. Red, white and blue digital camo fur. It was god-awful."
He smiled in spite of himself. "Yeah I bet. So you still didn't have fur when things went to shit?"
"Right."
"Goes for all of us without skin sir." Saito explained. "Maintenance or upgrades. When we got wind we all dropped our shit and went to ground. We've been basing out of half a dozen of our trucks since those of us that are uncovered really can't be seen."
"And they never designed covers for us." Said one of the large heavy built models in the back.
"Can I ask a rude question?" Steve said slowly. "Were you people?"
"We're still people." Saito replied. "We were all injured SHIELD agents that took this treatment willingly."
"I was in a car crash that made me into a quadriplegic." Agent Canis said. All three of her was sitting down in a row, tall and proud, tails wagging slightly.
"We've also got sea bound and air bound forces. Drones and artificial dolphins." Phil explained. "Agents working surveillance gigs."
"This is so cool." Tony was nearly beside himself.
"So glad you think so because you are now their doctor." Phil replied.
"What?" Tony wheeled to look at him.
"Look at them Stark. They have injured. They came back willingly and I can't help them. You can. I imagine if we render help, they'll become active agents again." He looked to Saito, who nodded once.
Tony rubbed his face and nodded. "Might take me a while to figure out the skin but... yeah. Okay."
Phil patted his shoulder.
The discussions took hours. Phil ended up having JARVIS connect a laptop to his work station. JARVIS was nice enough to take dictations, taking names and Agent numbers and LMD designation numbers, opening and building files. Administration staff got busy finding housing for the LMDs that could pass for human. The bare androids were given temporary refuge in Tony's lab, Tony and Bruce stopping projects temporarily to focus on them.
The three injured LMDs were brought up, two on stretchers and one with the assistance of an engine hoist.
"I have so many questions." Bruce said after a beat, staring at the LMD horse that was helpless in the hoist. Someone had written and drawn the damage right onto the synthetic fur with sharpie. Dented side frame. Snapped spine. Damaged hip. Damaged leg. Dented face frame. Shorting power supply.
The horse got its head up and snarled, showing some very unhorselike teeth. Bruce stepped back.
"Easy, Agent Emmet." Saito stepped in and caught the horse's head, one hand under, the other stroking its nose. "He has been in pain for a very long time. No rest. We are resilient, but there are limits."
"I think the main question was why a horse." Tony replied.
"If you could be anything you wanted, would you be human?" Saito asked. "Certainly we have human minds still but we used to be able to change bodies on request. Horses are the original all-terrain vehicle. He partners with other agents to do investigative work in remote areas."
"Quieter and less obvious than a car. Can take much rougher terrain too." Phil explained. "And with a synthetic frame, able to carry a lot of weight and still move relatively fast."
"A surprising amount of people on our watch list are into horses, too." Clint said. "Racing or otherwise."
"So you bring the horse as a cover story but the horse is an Agent and can listen passively to everything and record everything. And no one is going to guard their words well at a stable." Bruce said. "That's actually very intelligent."
"If I hadn't been hit by a fucking truck trying to escape HYDRA!" The horse gasped out.
"Luckily one of our semis was pulling out of the same facility. Frankly we tied a rope to his front hooves and dragged him aboard in about thirty seconds."
"Alright, looks like Agent Emmet is our first patient. None of the tables will take his weight; let's see if we can drop some clean sheets on the floor near my armor hoists, we can use those to support his weight. Do you guys bleed?"
Clint saw Phil rubbing his face and stepped over, drawing him aside. "Hey. Head check." He said softly.
"This is a lot to take in." He replied quietly. "Goddamn interview and now all this. We need the people desperately, but..."
"Director Coulson is hitting fatigue. I am going to take him upstairs." Clint announced to the room, voice going dom. "You may contact him there if you need to."
Steve had been sitting on the floor with all three of Agent Canis, but stood now, following Phil and Clint to the elevator. After a moment, Agent Canis stood as well and followed them.
"Are you okay, sir?" Steve asked once the elevator closed.
"Long day." Phil admitted. "I need time to decompress and absorb all of this. Make a friend?"
"I think so." Steve smiled down at Canis, who stared up at him with three tails wagging. "I like dogs."
"It suits you. American Military has used dogs for years. Captain America can totally have a dog." Clint smiled. "Even a gestalt dog that's a person."
"I was a sub into pet play before my accident. The mindset is remarkably similar." Canis said cheerfully. "Once I get some fur on it would be an honor to work with you, Captain."
"You should. I've worked with Canis, just in training scenarios but she's excellent." Phil agreed.
They stepped into the rumpus room. Phil stopped to take off his suit jacket and tie then helped Steve out of some parts of his combat uniform. Steve returned the favor by locking their weapons up and helping with Phil's shoulder harness. All of this was borderline automatic, and Phil glanced up to notice Clint was smiling at them.
"What?"
"Good boys." Clint said fondly.
Steve blushed bright red and Phil lifted an eyebrow as a little bit of pleasure fizzed through him.
"You're both ceding authority when you walk in here. You're both in command roles but recognize that here, that stops at the door, so you're seeking to strip it away and relax. Very good boys."
"Never thought of it like that." Phil admitted, even as subspace gave him a little tug down in response to the praise. "But I am going to sit on the floor, now."
Agent Canis, meanwhile, had gone to the kitchen. One unit (Blue) was filling a bowl with water while the other two investigated the contents of the cabinets.
"Do LMDs eat?" Steve stage whispered as they both sat on cushions on the floor. Clint sat on the couch so Phil could relax back on his legs, and started stroking Phil's short hair.
"Water is a cooling mechanism and olive oil can be used as a lubricant for joints." Canis replied from the kitchen. The large bowl of water had been set on the floor and a bottle of olive oil opened, a few glugs poured into the water. That done the olive oil was closed and put away, the three dogs taking turns drinking.
Phil turned his head to bury his face into one of Clint's legs, letting himself focus everything on the warm touch of Clint's hand on his scalp. Distantly he heard Clint murmuring that he was a very good boy who worked so hard to take care of them all, and that just reinforced his subspace.
Eventually, he heard Clint asking him softly to rise up and he came shallowly to the surface, shifting and eyes blinking open. More people were in the room, he noticed. Someone was cooking something that smelled delicious, and nearby there was laughter and what sounded like Canis playing tug of war with someone, potentially herself. Pepper and Tony were chattering away, the entire room was sort of its own dull roar and it made him feel weirdly emotional, eyes watering up as he dealt with his state of gentle vulnerability.
"Hey, sweetheart. You okay?" Clint asked softly, caressing Phil's cheek.
"Yeah. I'm pretty good right now." He kissed Clint's palm. "Who's cooking?"
"Bruce and Sam are. They're making individual shepherd's pie for everyone. You should stretch and drink something, sweetheart; you've been down almost an hour."
Phil hummed blissful acknowledgment, staying where he was for the moment and absorbing the strange sense of family and home.