Warnings: Coulson/Clint, Soulmates, animal spirits.
Inspired by Don't Deny Your Vital Signs by BeneficialAddiction
...
Getting a message telling him to get his ass to the headquarters was not how Clint wanted to start his morning. It was supposed to be the start of his two days off. A rarity that happened only once before since he joined SHIELD.
Still he got up and changed into a purple t-shirt and jeans with a black jacket over the shirt. He hesitated at the closet. There was a hidden phone in the closet. One he kept in case of emergencies. One that no one, not SHIELD, not Natasha, knew about. With a groan of frustration he grabbed the phone from it's hiding place in the false back of the closet. Under it was his backup passports that like the phone no one knew about.
After powering on the phone he quickly he fed Lucky his one eyed dog and headed out the door. Twenty minutes later found him in a meeting room next to Natasha. His oldest friend looked just as pleased as he did to be there. One her shoulders was her animal spirit a silver fennec fox.
Everyone had an animal spirit. It was supposed to be the window into their soul. Most people had a common animal. A cat or a dog with specific markings or colors that made it different. The stronger the person's will the stronger the animal spirit was. Rare one's like Natasha showed her character.
Like with animal spirits, everyone had a soulmate. They would have their intended's animal spirit on their chest. The identifying markers making it easy to pick out and avoid mistakes.
With enough practice someone could manifest their animal spirit into the physical world. Early on it took a significant amount of energy so few master the skill. From what he understood every member of SHIELD could if they put their minds to it. It was one of Fury's requirements. A little known skill that Clint had perfected when he was young was illusioning your animal spirit to look like another. Everyone including Fury and Natasha himself thought Clint had a cat spirit. Don't get him wrong it was a feline but it was no simple cat. His animal spirit was that of the white tiger. An animal spirit only seen once every hundred years.
As Sitwell and Phil entered the room Clint felt his secondary phone buzz from it's hidden place. Clint froze like a deer caught in headlights. That was not good. That buzz signaled a text message not an email. He could count on one hand the people who had the number.
Phil being his handler and friend for the three of his four years in SHIELD shot him a look. He was likely wondering what had caused the sudden change. For the briefest of moments Clint considered telling him. And then threw out that idea. Telling Phil would be like the time he broke into Fury's office via door instead of vent. Sure he got through and had a good time. But he was still caught and given paperwork duty for a month. Never again.
Carefully so not to draw suspicion he withdrew the phone. When he saw the number that had messaged him he let out a string of curses in Russian. Nat gave him a glance but said nothing knowing that he only used Russian when he didn't want anyone else to understand. Phil knew basic phrases but was by no means fluent. His brow furrowed minutely in confusion but like Nat he said nothing. As for the message it read.
Unknown number: Is Ronin back?
Clint swallowed. That was a name he had not thought about in four years. Not since he joined SHIELD. He put it behind him when he agreed to join as he knew it would draw too much attention otherwise. Only last year when he moved off base into an apartment did he even retrieve the box that held his gear in it. He squirreled the box away in the same false back that the phone and passports were in. He couldn't afford not to know what was going on now. So he answered.
Ronin: No. I left the business. Why?
Unknown number: Because someone is using the name again. Looks a lot like you. I'll send the info to your email. No charge this time.
That must be Giran then. The man was always changing his numbers but if it was important he would find a way to get in touch. Case and point was Clint's current predicament. Did he dare hunt down the imposter himself? Did he need to? Imposters had tried to take over his name before and failed. It took a certain kind of skill to be Ronin. Few could live up to that skill.
His decision was taken from him when Fury walked in. The Director gave a glance over the room ensuring everyone was there. His single eye did not stop on Clint who took it as a blessing. He didn't know. Ronin was still his secret.
Once he stood in front of the screen it turned on illuminating the room with a blueish tint. On the screen was a figure in black and gold. Okay so Fury did know about Ronin. He just didn't know about Clint being Ronin. That saved him some time.
A plan was forming in his mind. Get what SHIELD knew about the imposter and hunt them down himself. No need to get his friends involved. With luck it would only take a few days. There went his weekend plans. He'd need someone to look after Lucky. If that photo was any indication he was heading out of country.
"...ton. Barton!"
Clint blinked realizing that Fury had been calling him while he was lost in his thoughts.
"Sir?"
Phil gave him a sharp disapproving look but Fury said through a clenched jaw, "You were active as Hawkeye around the same time as Ronin. Did you have any interactions with him?"
He knew why Fury was asking this. Clint hadn't told them about Natasha aka the Black Widow and their old friendship for over two years. It wasn't until Fury decided to order Phil and Clint to go after her that he made contact. When Fury learned that he was an old friend of Natasha's he was not happy. He spent two hours giving Clint an earful in his office.
It made sense that he thought Hawkeye and Ronin might have interactions in the past. Did he tell them that he knew Ronin? Or did claim he didn't know Ronin?
Many eyes were on him when Clint made his decision, "At one time I was acquainted with Ronin. We weren't friends per sé but we worked with each other more than once. I might be able to make contact with him."
"Don't," the order was sharp and had Clint sitting up straighter, "This is why."
On the board behind Fury pictures came up and Clint felt ill. A young agent was on the ground blood pooling around him. There was a single stab wound to his chest. A video played a moment later and they watched a figure in black and gold attack the young agent. He tried to fight back against the false Ronin. Only he didn't have the experience.
This sealed the false Ronin's fate. If they had gone after anyone else he could have ignored it. Going after an agent of SHIELD he refused to let that stand. The true Ronin would be hunting down the false one.
Clint only listened to the pertenant details already making plans. From the corner of his eye he could see Nat and Phil giving him odd looks. They knew he was up to something. They just didn't know what.
As soon as they were dismissed Clint headed straight back to his apartment. He had phone calls to make.
...
Phil had been mildly worried when Clint said he knew Ronin. The swordsman had disappeared not long after Hawkeye joined them. Barton had immediately closed off from them in away Phil hadnt seen in three years. Not since he was out of probation. Cold as ice. Closed off like he was going out on his own.
Which was why Phil now stood outside of Clint's apartment. He had been standing outside in the cold for nearly ten minutes now. He had tried multiple times knocking on the door. Nothing from the other side. That worried him because he knew that Clint went home after leaving the briefing.
Reluctantly he used his spare key to enter the apartment. When he entered he knew immediately there was something wrong. Every time he visited Clint before there was always some kind of sound going through the apartment. A radio, TV, Lucky barking, something. Anything. Now though it was dead silent and that set the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
Phil drew his sidearm and methodically cleared the apartment. It only took five minutes as he knew every nook and cranny to the place. He had helped Clint choose it after all. Just like with the eerie silence he found it devoid of life. No one had been in the apartment for hours if he had to guess. No Clint and no Lucky.
The apartment looked as if he had just walked out. Nothing indicated that he had been taken unwillingly. At the same time he found Clint's SHIELD issued phone on the counter. Something was very wrong here.