Hi! Um, obviously I'm still alive and I'm keeping my stories alive too. It has just been a really crazy couple of months, so I just haven't had time to edit and post the chapters I write. And now I'm finally ready to start posting again, so here we go, the next step in the adventure. I hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience.

Chapter 13-SHIELD

Storm and Nightcrawler stayed the rest of the day with Logan and Clint. Now that Clint wasn't obsessing over Logan leaving and the humiliating written tests were done, it was easy to enjoy their company. Both X-men had come from unusual backgrounds, with similarities to Clint's own that he was quick to latch onto. Some gentle prodding convinced Storm to talk about her better memories of being a child thief and they compared pickpocketing tips. Kurt expounded on his time in the circus and Clint was amazed with how much he had in common with the superhero. They moved the discussion outdoors so the two acrobats could show off. Then the adults wanted to see some of Clint's archery tricks, so he put on an abbreviated version of his act. A couple of the hotel staff came out to watch too. Everyone was very impressed and the pretty girl who cleaned the rooms gave him a kiss on the cheek. Logan teased him gently when his cheeks lit up like a tomato. That was okay, though, because Storm had Clint's back. She distracted her gruff teammate by teasing him about someone named Kitty.

Before they realized it, night fell and the X-men had to leave for home. Clint was sad to see them go, but both of them promised to see him soon. After all, Storm needed to bring his workbooks and Kurt had promised him a sword lesson. Truth be told, they were as reluctant to leave as Clint was to say good bye, but it was dangerous to bring too much attention to Clint and Logan's location, so the X-men had to leave.

Logan didn't seem bothered by his friends' parting. He had a little secret smirk as he waved good bye. It took a lot of restraint, but Clint decided not to ask what put that expression on his guardian's face.

"Well, it's just the two of us again," Logan said when they were getting ready for bed.

"Yeah," Clint said, settling into his nest. It had been a really long day and he was exhausted. "I can't believe I got to meet Nightcrawler."

Logan chuckled. "He certainly liked meeting you. He was practically purple when you started gushing about his circus days."

Clint blushed, a little embarrassed from his fanboy reactions. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Well, I figured we could either stay here another day or move on. After we hit the base in Oklahoma, I know a couple places where we could get a cabin for a few weeks and take a break from the road. Then 'Ro can get you started on your school work and I can start on your training," Logan mused. He lay back on his bed to contemplate the ceiling. He looked relaxed, but Clint would bet he was thinking over every possible angle, like Clint thought over the variables on a trick shot. "I think I should talk to Nick again before we settle in though; see if he's had any headway with your problem."

Clint nodded, ignoring the twist of guilt in his chest. It came back every time they talked about his little problem. "Okay," he agreed, burrowing under his blankets and closing his eyes. "Whatever you think is best."

"Clint," Logan rumbled with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Yeah?" Clint peeked out to look at the older man.

"Remember you have a say in this. If something bothers you or just don't feel right, you tell me. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Clint agreed warmly, the guilt melting away. Logan sat up to shoot him a narrowed eyed glare, Clint thought about the original question. "I think we should head out. No reason for us to stick around and someone might have said something about the X-men stopping by."

"Good answer, now get some sleep, we're heading out in the morning. I want to see what Coulson thinks is a low profile truck," Logan stated and turned off the light.

Clint knew there was a story there but he was asleep before he could figure out how to ask about it.

Clint woke up amazingly refreshed the next morning, without the fog that had plagued him the day before. Logan was already up, of course, but Clint actually bounced out of bed before the mutant had to drive him out. It was a good start to the day.

They got on the road early and they barely saw any traffic for hours as they headed south into Oklahoma. They stopped once for food and gas but other than that they pressed forward. Logan wanted to reach the base before dark, which was about all he said on the matter. Clint decided he was okay with that, even though he was burning with curiosity.

It was a very boring drive, interspaced by different fields that gave way to oil drills and cattle ranches, and surprise: more fields. Clint really wished he could take a nap, but he was a little worried he'd fall off. Logan was sympathetic, but it was obvious he was enjoying the ride. Finally though, when he started to hear Clint's groaning against his back, he started looking for a place to stop for a break.

They stopped for dinner at a gas station/diner that claimed to have amazing milkshakes. Clint of course wanted the biggest size they had and Logan didn't argue with him. He was more interested in the larger burgers, anyway because he didn't have the sweet tooth of a 14 year old. When the shake came, Clint gasped happily. It came in a really big glass mug topped with a generous mountain of whipped cream and a cherry on top with the metal mixing container filled with a second serving. Clint decided heaven would have milkshakes like this as he sucked cheerfully on his straw.

"Careful, bub," Logan admonished as he picked up his monster burger. "Don't give yourself a brain freeze."

Clint waved him off. "I don't get 'em," he said around his straw. He would be happy with just this for dinner. He revised that opinion when they put his own burger in front of him. "Besides, what do you know about brain freezes? I bet you never had one," he mumbled around his first bite. At Logan's disappointed look, he swallowed and repeated himself.

Logan chuckled. "Yer right, but I've seen enough people get 'em to know that it's not fun." He ate a greasy fry thoughtfully. "Well, not fun for them. I think the faces they make are pretty funny."

"Oh, I know that one," Clint agreed. "The circus sold snow cones and on hot days, even the adults would eat them too fast. They're funnier than the kids, because they should have known better."

Logan hummed in agreement and they abandoned further conversation to focus on their food. Clint hadn't eaten since lunch and he was starving. The last couple weeks with Logan were some of the best fed in his life and he was sure he felt a growth spurt coming on. He wondered what Logan would do when he outpaced the short mutant even as he relished the idea.

After they finished eating and Clint was nursing the last of his milkshake, Logan leaned forward, suddenly serious. Clint swallowed convulsively and glanced around the diner, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them.

"We'll reach the SHIELD base in a couple hours," Logan began, "and we needed to discuss the plan." Clint nodded, leaning forward to catch every word. "We don't know if this is friendly territory, so I want you to stick close and keep quiet. Keep your bow out of sight." Clint rolled his eyes. That was painfully obvious. Logan raised an eyebrow but continued. "We're going to arrive late, pick up the truck and get back on the road. We'll get a hotel in the next town and depending on the reception we get, we might move on immediately. Make sense?"

Clint let out a gush of air. "I was worried that you wanted to stay at the base tonight," he admitted. The idea made his skin itch. "I thought that was why you wanted to get there before dark."

Logan chuckled. "Nah, I'm hopin' we arrive on the shift change, pick up our truck and leave before anyone realizes who we are." He tapped the table absently, staring off into the distance. "I'm thinkin' Fury picked this place for a reason and I'd really like to avoid any trouble until I get you trained up a bit better."

"That's why you want to get the cabin you mentioned?" Clint asked. He had visions of a quaint log cabin surrounded by pine trees, but it wasn't like he had experience vacationing. He was really looking forward to it though.

Logan nodded. "We'll work on that after we get the truck I was promised. Let's go."

Logan rose quickly and strode to the counter to pay. Clint hurriedly finished the last inch or so of his shake before following. Never in a million years would he admit that he had just given himself a brain freeze, he just stood up too fast is all.

\\\/\\\/

The SHIELD base didn't look like much from the outside, just a complex of building in the middle of nowhere. Farming and oil drilling equipment dotted the area around the buildings to provide camouflage and strategic cover. The buildings looked worn down, like the owner couldn't afford the upkeep and just patched what was needed to keep them serviceable. Those patches and dangling siding provided hiding places for cameras, heat detectors, and other surveillance equipment. There were no guards immediately visible but Logan could feel their eyes as he rode past a tractor and into the lengthening shadows of the first outbuilding. There was also the distinct smell of gun oil in the air.

Logan turned off the bike and sat for a moment, studying the layout before he shifted to put the kick stand down and get off. Behind him, Clint clutched at his shirt.

"There's people in the building to the left, they have guns," the archer whispered. Logan didn't need the light breeze to smell the kid's distress. "And there's cameras all over the place."

"I saw 'em," Logan promised. "Stick close to me."

Clint chuckled harshly. "Yeah, no problem there."

A young man in military fatigues stepped out of a small building on the side. "State your business," he demanded harshly. He wasn't armed, but the guns that Clint saw and Logan could smell meant he was still dangerous.

"James Summers, here to pick up a truck and trailer. I was told you'd have it waiting for me," Logan said as pleasantly as he could manage. His hands gripped the handle bars of the bike, and he could feel his claws shifting beneath the skin. Something didn't feel right.

"We've been expecting you, if you will follow me?" the man asked in a tone that brooked no argument. He gestured to the door.

Logan narrowed his eyes, but he got off the bike, and Clint followed suit, still clinging to his shirt as he stared at the darkened windows of the buildings.

"Leave your bike and your belongings. They will be dealt with," the soldier ordered, turning sharply to lead the way.

Logan growled, not liking the idea of anyone touching his bike. He opened his mouth to tell the kid off for his expectations, when Clint jumped away from where he had been stuck to Logan's back.

"Hey!" Clint barked at another man who had appeared beside them. "Hands off Princess!" The archer grabbed at the bowcase that was on top of their gear, tied to the bike.

The new soldier barked in surprise and lifted a hand to smack Clint's hands away from bindings on the bowcase. Logan grabbed the man's wrist and squeezed, hard. "Let the kid carry his bag," the mutant growled. "It's personal. No one touches it but him, got it?"

The soldier nodded furiously before backing off and letting Clint take the case, which he clutched to his chest. It was a black, lumpy bag with semi-rigid sides that wasn't obviously meant for a bow. The thing was almost as tall as Clint and he used it as a shield against all the strange men. He looked at Logan with wide eyes, but the smell of fear was gone, leaving a faint odor of anger. The kid was acting; and convincingly based on the reactions of the four soldiers that were now in sight. They were all giving the kid looks ranging from compassionate to pity. Logan noted the red head that smiled at Clint and held out the boy's jacket before disappearing with their bags. Clint made no move to the take the item, so Logan accepted it with a nod. Two of the others started to push the bike into a set of barn doors in a neighboring building. It took two of them because the bike was reinforced for Logan's increased weight and had a couple extra surprises that the X-men had put in.

Logan glared after his bike, watching it disappear into the darkness before he turned to the first men they had met. The agent was standing patiently next to the door he had come out of, his posture in something similar but not quite parade rest. If he had been military he hadn't been there for long before SHIELD recruited him. "Where're they taking our stuff?" Logan growled, his patience waning quickly.

"Your bike will be secured to the trailer and your effects will be placed in your rooms," the man said. He opened the door and waved them inside.

Logan planted his feet, narrowing his eyes. "What rooms?" he asked, his voice edging dangerously close to an outright snarl.

The man backed up a little, his surprise evident in his face and body language. "I thought you knew, sir!" he replied nervously. "We were told to expect you, of course, and you were to stay until Agent Coulson arrives to debrief you. I sent the message to Agent Coulson myself before coming out here."

"And we're supposed to just wait until Coulson arrives?" Logan scoffed.

"Yes, sir!"

"I wanted to be back on the road tonight. Tell Coulson he can find us at the next town."

The young man shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, I can't do that. I have my orders. You'd have to take it up with Commander Smith."

"And where is he?" Logan stalked forward and despite the six inches the agent had on him, the guy backed down.

"Inside, sir."

"Lead the way, boy," Logan ordered. He was going to take a bite out of the commander and leave tonight, without the truck if he had to. Something didn't smell right.

The young agent swallowed and led the way inside the building without a word. There wasn't much there. Two guards watched the surveillance cameras and one stood at the door of an elevator. Logan, with Clint trailing behind still clutching his bow case, followed the agent inside the elevator. There were no floor buttons and the lift was voice activated, which was annoying but not impossible to overcome if they had to make a run for it. They descended fast and further than Logan expected. He estimated they were about three stories underground when the doors opened. The hallway looked more like a SHIELD base now, with the eagle symbol on the wall and men and women in SHIELD uniforms or suits rushing around. The rookie agent led them past the chaos into an office at the end of the hall. He waved them inside but took a stance to the left of the door. He didn't move to stop Clint as he slipped in behind Logan, which made Logan like him just a little.

Clint was taking everything in with big, over-whelmed eyes, but Logan could tell the kid was still just acting the frightened child. The archer had counted under his breath how far down they had gone and while he looked completely freaked out; he was counting faces and noting all the cameras. It was pretty impressive for a boy who had been in the circus up till a few weeks ago. He was certainly living up to his stage name.

The office was surprisingly devoid of personal effects, not even a plant or a picture to say anything about the base commander. The man behind the standard issue metal desk had once been very muscular and fit but had let himself go in recent years. His hair was grey and greasy, in a military haircut that was just a little too long. His brown eyes were sharp and hard, with lines at the corners from years of squinting at the sun. Smith waited until the door closed completely behind Clint before standing to greet his guests.

"Mr. Summers," the old soldier said, pausing just an instant before saying the last name to show he knew that it wasn't Logan's real name. "It's not often that we have such a distinguished guest in this little forgotten base and it's even rarer that an agent from Headquarters schedules visit. I have to thank you for bringing some excitement into our lives here in Oklahoma."

Logan crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow but didn't answer. Clint stayed behind him, leaning against the wall, though he put his case on the floor for the moment.

"Yes, well," Smith continued. He didn't meet Logan's eyes, turning to the paper work on his desk to save face. "I have placed you and your ward into a couple of the empty officer's quarters on the fifth level. They're a bit dark, but well-furnished and quite comfortable. I hope to make your stay here as painless as possible. Of course, Agent Coulson is a busy man, so we might have the pleasure of your company for a while before he arrives for your debrief."

Logan considered the man before he answered. He was like an open book; a washed up soldier who was probably assigned to this base because he was old, out of date, and losing his touch but with too many years of service to let go. In his prime, he would have been a pretty decent agent, but something knocked him off his game, whether it was age or changing politics was a toss-up, and now he was wasting away at a base that was of low importance, but occasionally too useful to abandon; like the men they send here. Logan also thought about Coulson. Originally, Logan assumed that Fury had chosen the base, but it was starting to look like Coulson had something to do with the decision. The agent must have had a reason to send them to this backwater base. It would have been nice if he had told them what that reason was. Logan hated these spy games. "And if we don't?" he asked through his teeth.

Smith scowled, his lips pinching together into a line. "That is not an option, Mr. Summers. I have my orders. You either accept my hospitality or I will have to detain you."

That brought Logan up short, rubbing him the wrong way. "Do you know who I am?" Logan asked carefully, catching the commander in a stare down.

Smith sighed and plopped back in his chair, breaking eye contact as he focused on something on the far wall. "Yes, I do. As far as I know, no one else in this base does, but who knows." He shrugged. "This is SHIELD. The point is that I do know what you are capable of and I'm still asking you to cooperate. Please, let's make this easier on everyone."

Logan grit his teeth, considering his options. He was not a fan of being stuck on a military base for any reason and normally he wouldn't hesitate to show his feelings on the matter, but now he had a complication. "Francis," Logan barked, jerking Clint to attention. "Are you alright with stayin' here for a spell?"

Clint shrugged. "I guess so," he said. He didn't sound convinced but Logan couldn't smell any fear.

"Fine," Logan relented. "We'll stay to talk to Coulson and I'll have it out with him."

"I'd appreciate that, Mr. Summers," Commander agreed eagerly. "Now, let's get you settled in. Agent Reynolds will show you the quarters we set aside and the mess. Then, if you are willing, I have some paperwork for you and I'd like to have a word with you alone."

"We'll see," Logan said, turning to leave. He ushered Clint in front of him. Outside, the young agent, Reynolds stood straighter as they came out. He grinned and waved for them to follow him.

Reynolds was in full tour guide mode as he led the way to where the pair would be staying. The officer's quarters were on the same level as the barracks, but down a separate hall to provide more privacy. Each room was sparsely furnished with a twin bed, desk and chair, and a trunk for storage. They did have a closet for hanging uniforms and a personal bathroom though. The young agent seemed a little jealous as he expounded on those points. Clint and Logan exchanged a look but didn't interrupt the young agent; letting him prattle on about the layout of the base, explaining where some things were and where not to go. The Research and Development Lab and the Armory were the biggest no-no's, Reynolds explained, though for different reasons.

"Agent Brown is in charge of weapons and ammunitions and he is a hard-ass stickler for the rules. Nice enough guy really, but not one for making exceptions for honest mistakes. R & D on the other hand is full of pranksters. Last year they caught a drunk baby agent wandering into their territory and they dyed him blue," Reynolds explained as they turned into the hallway with the officer's quarters. He grinned at Clint's disbelieving look. "Seriously! They were working on a dye for camo purposes and the only color that would work was blue, and it is seriously long lasting. Agent Louis was blue for months. Ah, here we are." He waved his hand at two doors that had green markers in the holders under the peep-hole.

Clint stepped forward to investigate but Logan held him back. "Wait here," he ordered and entered the one on the left. He saw Clint's bag on the trunk on the end of the bed so he grabbed it and carried it into the other room where his gear was laid out on the bed and trunk. Logan went through everything, poking into Clint's bags and rifling through his own pockets. It didn't look like anyone had gone through their gear. Rather than be comforted, it only put his hackles up. Why hadn't they gone through everything? An X-ray or a scan shouldn't be enough for SHIELD and even that minimal handling would have left more of a sign. He didn't think it was his reputation that held them off either. Something was off about this whole base.

After he finished his inspection, Logan let Reynolds lead them to the mess for dinner. They didn't discuss Logan's reservations but his mood was obviously soured. Reynolds noticed that he was not welcome anymore so the agent declared his duty done and went off to get his own meal, leaving Logan and Clint to fend for themselves.

Logan glanced over at his ward, who was still clutching his bow case. It made him look smaller and vulnerable. Logan wondered if that was on purpose or if he just didn't want to let his precious bow out of his sight. The mutant jerked his head at the line for food. Clint shook his head. Logan nodded in agreement, he was still satisfied from earlier too. Still, Clint would be hungry again soon so Logan just snagged some fruit, energy bars, and bottled juice for later. They retreated back to their room to talk.

"SHIELD looks pretty cool," Clint said as he threw himself on the bed. It was surprisingly for a military barracks, though the sheets were scratchy.

"Something is wrong here," Logan said, taking a seat at the desk in the corner. He watched Clint bounce with amusement and a little pride. The boy was resilient. "I can't put my finger on it, but something doesn't smell right."

Clint shrugged and snagged one of the apples. "Well, everyone looks really uptight, but I figured it was because they all went to the same spy school." He crunched into his prize, relishing the juicy tartness. He offered one to Logan but the older man refused.

Logan got up to pace, the feeling of "wrongness" buzzing under his skin. "That's not it," he mused. He needed a plan and more information. And he needed Clint to stay safe. He harbored no worries for himself, saving them all for the boy getting apple juice on the bed sheets. "I'll figure it out when I talk to the commander. I want you to stay here, out of trouble until I come back. Don't open the door for anyone else."

"Aww, Logan, no," Clint whined, wiping the apple juice off his face. "Come on, I want to help."

"No," Logan stated, leaving no room for argument.

Clint's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he's stubbornness was no match for Logan's resolve, and he sighed. "Fine. I'll stay here."

"Good." Logan stood up and moved to the door. "Stay out of trouble," he teased with his hand on the door knob.

Clint chuckled. "Yeah, yeah," he agreed, waving Logan away.

With a shake of his head, Logan slipped out. He was alone in the hallway so he took a moment to scent the air. Nothing out of place, mostly gun oil, sweat, printer ink, the ozone of high tech equipment and a dash of coffee. Still, there was something that bothered him, he just couldn't finger it. He took the long way to the commander's office, prowling a little without setting off any alarms. If there was something rotten here, he didn't want to disturb it, yet.

Commander Smith was still at his desk when Logan knocked. The man seemed more at ease and the scent of good whiskey explained why. Logan closed the door behind him and sat down.

"Mr. Summers," the grey haired man greeted him.

"Logan," the mutant corrected. The Summers alias had started as a joke, but it was wearing thin.

"Logan, then," Smith agreed. "I've got some paperwork for you regarding the truck and trailer we're holding for you. I thought we could have a drink as I walked you through it."

"Agreed," Logan said approvingly. He wasn't about to turn down a whiskey that smelled like that.

The bottle the commander pulled out didn't have a label, and he didn't name it when he poured some into two crystal tumblers. The amber liquid was strong and smooth, definitely top shelf. Logan saluted his drinking companion before taking a mouthful. It burned just right. Smith nodded in smug agreement as he refilled the tumblers.

With a drink like that, Logan didn't mind filling out the titles and insurance for the truck, which he still hadn't seen, but the title looked promising. Older, American-made, with relatively few miles; Smith promised it was in good working condition. He also promised that it was all original parts, not upgraded by SHIELD.

"Agent Coulson, who picked it out of the pool, had it sent here from the LA office," the officer explained, slurring just a little.

Logan nodded as he signed another paper, this time with his real name or at least the one he goes by, for SHIELD's records. "Coulson knows his cars and appreciates good workmanship," he agreed to keep the man talking.

That sent the man off on a tangent about his superiors that was illuminating, both about the subject and the commander. The man had a chip on his shoulder from being assigned here that was not immediately obvious. Logan sympathized with the man, because it was a blow to be semiretired like this. Still the man took the "promotion" very personally, probably more personally then he should.

Logan kept the old soldier talking by talking about a few of his more frustrating superiors that he remembered. Cyclops alone gave him enough fodder to last all night. They were making serious in roads into the whiskey and Smith was matching Logan, drink for drink, so commander was definitely drunk when there was a heavy knock on the door. The Commander cursed and tried to set himself to rights, with limited success. He had lost his tie at some point and Logan wasn't sure where it had gone. Logan wasn't pleased either, he had been about to ply the man for information about the base.

The door opened, revealing Agent Reynolds, who looked apologetic, two very large agents in fatigues, who looked furious, and Clint Barton, who looked sheepish. The two hulking men shoved the boy into the office.

"Okay, this looks bad," Clint started to say, but the guard on the left cut him off with a heavy hand on his shoulder. Logan bristled at the touch, but held his peace.

"We found him in the armory, Commander," the man, whose red hair reminded Logan a little of Jean's, barked. He glared at Clint, who grinned guiltily.

"I'm sorry, sir," Reynolds spoke up, edging his way around the red head. "I should have posted a guard at their door, or stayed with them myself, but I didn't think… Anyway, I'm sorry, sir. I take full responsibility."

Commander Smith's slightly blood-shot eyes scanned the occupants of the room. "He should be punished?" he said, the statement turning into a question as he glanced at Logan.

Clint winced at the smell of alcohol in the room, but stayed quiet. Logan refrained from grinning at him, kind of proud that the kid hadn't listened to him and had gotten as far as the armory. The other brute, a brown-haired, brown eyed man whose only memorable trait was his size, crossed his arms to glare at everyone. "He was in a restricted area, and we don't know how he got in there. The armory is two levels down sir, who knows what other areas are compromised. Let me interrogate him then you can decide the appropriate punishment." He looked down his nose at the teenager, who rolled his eyes. The agent tensed at the implied insult and clenched his fists.

Logan stood up, and maneuvered so he was between Clint and the two brutes. "He is my charge, agent. Remember that. I'll decide what punishment is necessary, not you."

"He broke the rules!" the man barked back. "What if he broke the law? Are you going to pull that line with the police?"

Logan was about to snarl at the man when Smith spoke up, "Stand down, Agent Brown." Clint snickered, but quickly pulled an innocent face. "Mr. Summers and his ward are our guests, and while they have violated our hospitality, I think we can overlook this infraction, this time. Next time, I will not be as lenient. Do you understand, young man?"

Clint looked confused as he studied the drunken officer, but he nodded with enough humility to satisfy the man. "Yes, sir, it won't happen again," he promised.

Smith nodded a few too many times in agreement before turning to his men. "You are dismissed," he ordered. "But I want a report on my desk tomorrow about how an untrained boy was able to evade professional SHIELD agent's long enough to get to the armory."

All three agents grumbled but left with a sharp salute. Logan shook his head and steered Clint outside after them with only a nod to the commander, who didn't seem to notice.

Reynolds held back to escort them back to their room. "You should really keep your head down," the young agent said as they reached the door. "Usually the commander isn't in such a good mood. He could have ordered Francis imprisoned." He reached over to ruffle Clint's hair. "I have a little brother about your age, so I get it. But you're too young to be doing risky shit like that, so try to stay out of trouble."

Clint shrugged. "I'll try," he promised. Logan could smell the lie but didn't mention it.

"See that you do," Reynolds said, shaking a finger at Clint. Then he waved as he left down the hall.

Logan watched him go before entering the room, Clint trailing behind him.

"So, before you say anything, I know this looks bad and believe me, when I say it looks bad, it must be worse," Clint said as soon as the door closed.

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for the boy to explain.

Clint blushed, but kept his shoulders back and his back straight. "I was bored, so I snuck out. I almost got caught by the R&D people so I ducked into the vents. Did you know vents are awesome? Then I kinda got lost, so I don't really know where I was when I found it and when I saw it, it kinda freaked me out, so I back tracked but I was still lost. That's when I decided to get out of the vents, but I had somehow ended up on another level." He shrugged. "I have no idea how that happed, because I don't remember going up or down. Then those guys caught me. That Agent Brown really is a jerk. He and the other muscle head started to march me to see the Commander. We ran into Agent Reynolds on our way and when Brown told him what happened he invited himself along. I wasn't expecting him to stand up for me like that. He's really nice, you know, for a suit."

Logan sat down on the bed, making it creak. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to wade through that statement. "What did you find that freaked you out?" he finally asked, picking out the only relevant part of the story.

Clint took a deep breath, relaxing when Logan didn't snap at him. "Okay, so I noticed that SHIELD likes to put their logo on everything, right?" Logan nodded, not sure where the archer was going with this. "It's on everything, even their water bottles and granola bars, so I thought it was weird when I saw a different symbol on the wall as I shuffled through the vents." He glanced at Logan to see if he was following. "I looked closer and the room was filled with computers and weapons, like a lot of weapons. Guns lined the walls and they weren't locked up like in the armory I stumbled into. And one wall was devoted to the creepiest looking mural."

"What did it look like, Clint?" Logan asked, his own anxiety spiking. Somehow he knew what Clint would say before the archer answered.

"It looked like a skull with tentacles coming out of its mouth," Clint described, wiggling his fingers under his chin to demonstrate. He narrowed his eyes at his guardian. "You know what it is don't you? What it means?"

Logan clenched his fists and let out his breath in a gust. This explained so much, providing answers to questions he hadn't even asked yet. He looked Clint in the eye and spoke one word. "Hydra."