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Phil followed behind, he wasn't sure why but he felt he needed to be there. He stopped outside the medical bay and sat in one of the chairs, making himself as comfortable as possible; it was probably going to be a long wait. Ten minutes passed when he caught a glimpse of a black leather coat and couldn't help but smile. The Director of SHIELD didn't just leave what he was doing for anyone; Phil just seemed to bring that side out in Fury for some reason.

"What happened Phil?" Fury asked as he stopped in front of his agent and glanced through the glass window to the medical bay, watching as the staff worked on the young boy, then turned back to his agent.

Phil sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "He was sleeping in my shed, managed to get into my house while I was away and took some food. I heard a noise coming from the shed and found him sleeping under my dust cover." Phil watched as his normally straight faced boss struggled to keep his mask in place, kids were a soft spot for both of them. "I had my gun out thinking it was an intruder, the kid freaked, pleaded with me not to hurt him, and then had a panic attack. When I got him to calm down, I asked him to come inside so I could get him some food. He stood up and then just collapsed. I think he might have been beaten, there were bruises covering his chest and stomach."

Fury clenched his hands into fists and forced himself not to hit the wall in frustration. Nick hated when bad things happened to kids and looking at the young boy lying in the bed, he knew that no one had looked out for this kid in a long time. The boy was a survivor and he knew that Phil wouldn't hold it against the kid for taking some food he desperately needed. He was just trying to survive after all. He looked down at his agent, and knew the expression on Phil's face was mirrored with his own; anger and concern.

"What do you plan to do?" Fury asked with a knowing look.

Phil arched an eyebrow at his boss, "I'm not sure, sir. I'm pretty sure he's either run away from home and has been living on the streets or he's an orphan and doesn't have anyone. We won't know until someone can talk to him." Phil stared at his boss. "I do know that I won't make him go back to living in the streets," he stated with conviction.

Fury smiled, he already knew that and could tell his agent was feeling responsible for the kid.

"Well, whatever you decide Phil, let me know. I'll help however I can," Nick told him.

Phil tried to hide the surprise from his face but failed miserably. "Thank you, sir."

Fury chuckled and patted him on the arm. "Less with the sir, Phil. It makes me feel old. Let me know how the kid is doing?"

"Yes sir." Phil smiled at the huff that came from his boss as he headed back down the hall.

Phil leaned his head against the wall and waited for any word on how the kid was doing. He just hoped he wouldn't be waiting too long.

Clint came back to awareness slowly. He could hear people talking to his left but couldn't make out what they were saying. When he forced his eyes open, he panicked, the room was very bright and everything was white. He saw one of the men to his left move closer and when he spotted the stethoscope hanging around the man's neck he tried to get out of the bed, they were doctors. And if there was one thing he hated more than police, it was doctors. He'd had too many instances where the doctor should have been reporting what was happening to him at the orphanage, but as always they turned a blind eye. Money meant more than your soul these days. That left him to his private hell, all alone.

He didn't make it out of the bed, hands gripped his wrists and feet holding him down. The overwhelming urge to scream took over and Barton sucked in a deep breath before releasing an enormous sound that a small boy shouldn't be able to make.

Clint fought against them, struggling to pull his arms free but they held tighter, he managed to get his leg free and kicked out and was satisfied when he heard someone's cry of pain, served them right. He was petrified at what they might do to him, he didn't know who these people were or why they had him. He remembered the man with the gun, talking to him, then nothing more. Was he here, did he order them to do this? Barton was sure he was being punished. Then he felt a warm sensation flow through him and knew they had him beat. They'd drugged him. He was sure he heard a familiar voice shouting something but the drugs pulled him under.

Phil stood at the side of the bed glaring at each of the medical staff that had held the kid down. Of course the boy was frightened, he was somewhere he didn't recognise, with people he didn't know surrounding him, then they had pinned him to the bed. Coulson knew they were just trying to stop the kid from hurting himself, but when he had heard that scream while sitting outside, everything inside him froze. He ran through the doors demanding to know what the hell they were doing. He'd never heard that sound come from a small child before and never wanted to hear it again. Phil had been on missions before where agents had been tortured, it was something that stayed with him even after so many years. But hearing the terrified screams coming from the young kid before him had put a fear in Phil that he wasn't used to feeling. Helplessness. A child shouldn't know that kind of pain.

Now Phil stood daring any of them to come near. He clenched his hand tightly around the metal frame of the bed trying desperately to keep it together. Phil wasn't sure what it was about this kid that was bringing out the protective side in him, all he knew was that it was there and it wasn't going away any time soon. A light touch on his hand had him whipping his head around to the young boy. Blue eyes stared up at him and he could tell right away the kid was still pretty out of it.

"Wh're am….?" He asked while struggling to sit up. Phil placed a hand gently on the boy's shoulder, not prepared for the kid to flinch away from him. He should have expected it though, he had pointed his gun at the youngster.

"You're in SHIELD medical. It's a government organization, kind of like the FBI," Phil explained softly. "Do you remember what happened before you woke up here?"

The boy looked confused and glanced around the room, his eyes focussed on the medics who were standing outside the room. He panicked again, remembering their hands holding him down, making him feel trapped. Coulson tried to calm him without physically touching the boy but the child was having none of it. Clint started pulling at the wires ripping his I.V out before Phil could stop him. The agent had no choice but to let the medics back inside. They did their best to hold the boy without hurting him and gave him a sedative. Once it took effect and the boy was unconscious the medical staff started to attach the wires he'd pulled out.

Phil went back to standing outside, scrubbing a hand through his short hair in frustration. The kid didn't trust anyone that was for sure. It was going to take some time to get him to open up.

So Coulson waited, he was good at waiting and considered himself to be very patient. He had no idea the kind of traumatic experiences the kid had probably been through. He didn't know if the boy had run away from home because of abusive parents or if he didn't have anyone and had been put into care, then run away. Phil couldn't imagine being left all alone. He was part of a large family, three sisters, his parents and lots of cousins, aunts and uncles. From the looks of things this kid had no one, or if he did they just didn't give a shit.

It was almost two hours later when the kid came to again, he wasn't fighting as much, but he refused to speak to anyone. Sam the medic tried to get the kid to answer some simple questions. The boy had clammed up, staring at the wall to his left to avoid prying eyes, but Sam noticed the few tears that leaked out the corner of the kid's eyes.

He sighed and stood before walking outside to speak to Phil, maybe he could get the skinny boy to talk. It was worth a try.

"Has he said anything?" Phil asked.

Sam shook his head. "Nope. Won't say a word. Do you think you could try Phil?"

Coulson stood and looked through the window, the boy was facing away from them and he was sure the kid was shaking. Giving Sam a brief nod he walked inside the room and closed the door.

Phil sat in the chair next to the bed and watched the young boy try to hide the fact that he was crying. When the gut wrenching sobs got louder, the agent decided to intervene. He placed his hand gently on the boys shoulder. The kid flinched and cried out before pulling the covers closer around him, trying desperately to curl in on himself. Phil kept his hand where it was, not doing anything other than trying to pass the kid some of his strength.

It was almost ten minutes before the youngster seemed to pull himself together. Phil removed his hand and sat back, watching and waiting. The blonde haired boy turned slowly onto his back, wiping his eyes and staring up at the ceiling before his eyes flickered to watch the older man next to him.

"Are you okay?" Phil asked carefully, those blue eyes were locked onto him again and Coulson forced himself not to look away. The boy was obviously searching for something. When it seemed he'd found whatever he been looking for, the kid nodded slowly.

"My name is Phil. Phil Coulson. Can you tell me your name?"

The boy stared at him again before looking back to the ceiling. Phil was pretty sure he wasn't getting an answer when the kid started speaking, whispering was probably more accurate.

"C-Clint….Barton."

Coulson was pleased, it wasn't much but it was a lot more than they had a few hours ago.

"Clint, I need to ask you some questions alright? If you want me to stop at any time just say so."

The youngster nodded warily, his eyes constantly darted around the room, probably searching for a way to escape, Phil thought.

"Do you have any family Clint? Someone we could get in contact with?"

Barton shook his head negatively.

"How old are you kid?"

Clint's bottom lip trembled and he bit down on it, not wanting to show any more weakness than he already had. "Almost….twelve."

Phil blinked in shock, he wouldn't have thought that. The kid did seem pretty small for his age. "Did you run away from home?"

Barton shook his head sadly. "I don't have a home." Phil had to lean closer to hear what the kid said.

Coulson was about to ask him another question when Clint beat him to it. "What's going to happen to me?" there was a tremor in his voice that Phil could tell he was trying to hide.

Phil leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "We need to find out who you are and if you have any relatives before deciding what to do next."

"Am I going to be arrested?"

"Why would I do that, Clint?" Phil frowned.

If it weren't for the current situation the agent would have laughed at the 'duh' face he received. "I broke into your home."

Phil shook his head. "No you aren't going to be arrested kid."

Clint's penetrating gaze focussed on the agent again, Phil tried to be as open as he could, willing the boy to believe him. When the boy nodded numbly in acceptance and turned away from the agent, Phil knew the conversation was over.

Coulson stood and made his way to the door, stopping before he exited the room and looked over his shoulder. "I'll be back soon, Clint. Try and get some rest."

There was no answer as Phil walked out and he knew he would have to assign someone to be here constantly or the boy would no doubt bolt. Where he would go in a base this size, with agents everywhere, was anyone's guess, but he couldn't take the risk.

Phil made his way to Director Fury's office to see what they could find out with the information he had.

It was roughly an hour later when they found all the details they could on one Clinton F. Barton. It wasn't much but Phil hadn't expected there to be. The kid had been six years old when his parents were killed in a traffic accident, leaving Clint and his older brother Barney as orphans. Barney was ten and had run away from the orphanage at the age of twelve, leaving his brother behind. Clint had run away almost a year later.

Phil sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. So basically the kid had no one, well he had a brother, but Coulson didn't think Barney cared very much about what happened to his baby brother. That much was obvious.

Fury watched as Phil read over the file, his agent's eyes hardening the more he read. Nick felt the same, he was angry that this little kid felt his only option was to run away, to live on the streets, rather than be taken care of by people who should be there to look out for him. He knew they would have to contact social services and try to secure a foster home for him. It wasn't going to be easy on such short notice.

Fury turned to Phil as he placed the file on the desk. "I know someone I can call Phil, but it's going to take time."

"Yes sir."

"I'm going to suggest leaving you in charge of the boy until we can sort something out."

Coulson's eyes widened in surprise. "Sir?"

Fury chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. "The kid doesn't really trust anyone at the moment, Phil. But, he has opened up to you, even if it was only a little. He didn't do that with anyone else."

Phil was shaking his head. "I don't think that's a good idea Nick. What the hell do I know about looking after a child? Wouldn't it make more sense for one of the agents that have children to take him?"

"I don't think so and if we can't arrange something I'll have to leave the kid in medical where we can make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. Besides, who better than SHIELD's best to look after the kid."

It was the guilt card, and no one played it better than Fury. Phil wasn't sure he could offer the kid anything, but at least he was a better option than being trapped in medical. Coulson nodded. "Alright sir, I'll make sure he doesn't cause any trouble. Just let me know when someone will be coming for him." He tried to hide the small flash of trepidation that flashed across his face.

Fury smiled. "Of course Phil."

The agent nodded and headed for the door, Nick watched him go with a knowing smirk plastered across his face. He'd make the call in a day or two, it might give those two a chance to bond. The Director was aware that the kid didn't trust easily and knew that Phil was one of the most patient men he had ever met. If the kid was put in a foster home, he knew for certain that they wouldn't spend the time needed to get to the bottom of the boy's problems. He would be left to deal with it himself, which wouldn't do anyone any good. Fury knew that Phil had a way of getting under your skin.

It was exactly what the boy needed, someone who was willing to try, and not give up on him.