AN: Finally, the fall out of the battle. I think Logan just needs a nap and Clint learns his distaste for paperwork. Fun, fun!

Clint stood watch from the roof of the hotel that the SHIELD agents had commandeered. He needed the distance, the freedom of elevation to get his head straight and it kept him out of the way of bustling agents. He scanned the horizon again, looking for some sign of his guardian. He wasn't worried, not really. Wolverine was a legend, a hero. He wouldn't die from something like this, something that even Clint survived with only scuffed knees. Still, the teenager's stomach churned as he focused on the tiny puff of smoke that had appeared soon after he climbed up here to avoid the SHIELD nurse who kept pinching his cheek. The lady was nice enough, but Clint couldn't take much of her smothering attention. He had slipped out of the suite that they had turned into a triage as soon as he could. To avoid any other well-meaning adults, he had retreated to the roof. That's when he saw the poof of dust and smoke. No one else seemed to see it, though a few people turned to look in that direction. Clint figured it was his vantage point and his exceptional eyesight that allowed him to see what must have been the base blowing up. The one scientist had said something about needing to do that to save everyone, but he had used so many technical terms that he might as well have been speaking Martian. It went right over Clint's head.

The young archer brought his knees up to his chest and continued to stare at the horizon. It had been a long time since he had felt this alone.

The old truck would never have caught Hawkeye's attention, if he hadn't noticed the motorcycle in the trailer. Oh, and all the SHIELD agents piled in the truck bed, but it was the bike that had Clint scrambling to his feet and climbing down from the roof before the truck had time to pull into the parking lot. So he was there when Wolverine slid out of the cab, but the teen checked his rush at the last second. The X-man looked terrible. His uniform was in shreds and blood stained. Blood had dried in his hair, which looked messier than normal. More of the red stuff was in his mutton chops and flecked around his mouth. More than that, Logan looked tired, the kind of bone deep weariness that meant he was hanging onto consciousness by his fingernails.

Clint ducked behind another car, cataloging how Logan moved, like he weighed more than normal. Maybe he was too tried to deal with a freaked out teenager. Clint should stay back, let him get some rest. He was just glad that his guardian had come out of it alive. He started to retrace his steps, intent on getting out of the way again. He was used to that, had lots of practice dating back to before he and Barney had first joined the circus. He had been too little to be much help back then, so he mostly stayed out of sight.

Logan lifted his head and sniffed the air. "Hawkeye," he barked, his voice like sandpaper. "Where are ya, bub?"

Clint stopped trying to sneak away and turned around. He wasn't certain he heard right but when he saw Logan raise an eyebrow in his direction, he came forward. The milling agents got out of his way, clearing a straight path between Clint and Wolverine. Feeling all those eyes on him let him bring Hawkeye, the showman, to the fore, so they wouldn't see the kid inside who was freaking the hell out. "You're a mess," Clint said with a forced smirk as he stopped before his mentor.

"Looks like you got out okay," Logan said approvingly. His voice was still really rough, like he had been screaming or something. "Agent Dwergmuis told me all about your adventure. You did good, Hawk."

Clint shrugged, trying not to let on how the praise made him swell with pride, but he can feel his cheeks heat up anyway. Logan nodded, thankfully not making him respond. "I need a shower," the mutant said instead, starting to walk toward the line of numbered doors. "Any of these free?"

Agent Lee stepped forward, apparently he was one of the highest ranking agent left on the base since so many of the officers were Hydra. (He was not happy about his sudden promotion.) He pointed at the room on the end. "I saved that one for the two of you. It's all yours. I figure we can hold off on debriefing for now." He tossed Logan the key card. "Get some rest while you can."

"Appreciate it," Logan growled. He put a hand on Clint's shoulder and steered him toward the promised room. "Send some food our way when ya' get it," he ordered without looking back.

Clint glanced over his shoulder, worried that the agent might be offended but Agent Lee and the woman Clint was still calling Agent Mouse in his head just looked amused for a moment before turning their attention to more important things.

The room was not much. It had two small, lumpy beds and a TV so old it was probably black and white; but it was clean and safe. Clint didn't care about anything else as long as those two points were checked and he was willing to compromise on the former. Logan went straight for the shower, grumbling about the stink of blood. Clint looked down at his dusty clothes. He needed something clean, but all of their things had been left at the base. He sighed and sat on one of the beds to start taking off his lace up moccasins. At least he still had his bow and case. All of his most important keepsakes and most of his money were in there anyway.

He was debating taking off his shirt when there was a knock on the door. Clint heard Logan snarl in the bathroom and a moment later, a wet Wolverine wrapped in a towel stormed out. He waved Clint back and flung open the door himself.

Agent Mouse had her arms full of bags and instead of flinching at the grumpy Wolverine who hadn't finished washing the blood out of his hair, she just shoved some of her burden at him and invited herself in. "Hey, Hawkeye," she greeted Clint. "How are you holding up?"

Clint shrugged and finally pulled off his mask, he had kind of forgotten he was still wearing it. "Tired, I guess. And kinda wishing I had my clothes."

She grinned at him and tossed him a small duffle with the SHIELD logo on the side. "Ask and you shall receive. I asked someone to go grab your stuff while we were checking for stragglers. He was in a hurry, so there might be some stuff missing, but I think we got most of it."

Clint unzipped the bag to see his clothes, shoes and even the dented goblet from the fair. "Oh, wow, thanks!" he exclaimed. His eyes burned and he rubbed his nose. It felt odd, being so attached to his possessions; just had he had resigned himself to losing everything. This meant the world to him right now.

"Your stuff in that bag, sir," the agent added as she turned her smile on Logan. "We figured that we'd save everyone the mental scars of making you walk around in that ruined uniform." She dumped the last bag on the bed. "Here are some miscellaneous supplies. Some granola bars and water bottles, a few candy bars from the vending machine. We can't risk ordering pizza right now, so Lee sent some agents to pick up groceries. I'll come get you when the cooks get something together. I got you some extra hotel bottles of shampoo and those little bars of soap. I figured just one wouldn't cover it," she glanced meaningfully at the pink running down Logan's shoulders. He rolled his eyes and left to finish his shower. As he passed, Clint tossed him another bottle of shampoo and a wrapped bar of soap. They landed neatly on the bag so Logan didn't have to risk losing his towel.

After Logan was gone the agent turned to Clint again, giving him a flash of memory of being in trouble. Clint knew that his guardian could still hear everything, which made him feel better, so he did his best to hide that reaction. "Was there something else?" he asked as politely as he could manage.

She shook her head ruefully. She reached over and awkwardly gripped his shoulder for a second. It was nice. "I just wanted to say thank you. You were a hero today, Hawkeye. Don't forget that."

As she started to turn away, Clint called after her. "Wait!" She turned to face him. "Just, could you tell me your name?" he asked, sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck.

She grinned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do you need to know?"

Clint shrugged. "I can't keep calling you Agent Mouse, can I?" he shot back, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"You are adorable," she said and pinched his cheek lightly. He batted her off, but that only made her smile more. "My name is Agent Eva Dwergmuis." She pulled out a card. "Call if you ever need anything."

"Um, thanks," he replied. She chuckled and left.

Clint sat on the bed, staring at the card. It wasn't really that big a deal, having her card since he knew Logan was personal friends with the director of her agency, but what she said? That mattered. "Hero", that was a big word, one that he used in his head but not one he'd claim for himself out loud. But she had. That was pretty awesome. He tucked the card in with the goodbye letter from the circus and turned to see what had been salvaged of his stuff.

After a shower, some food, and a nap, both Logan and Clint felt a little more human. So they were prepared when there was another knock on the door. Logan got up to answer it with a lot less snarls than last time. Clint just threw himself flat on the bed with an "Aw, morning, no."

Agent Reynolds stood at attention in the doorway. It didn't look like he had gotten a chance to rest like they had. He was visibly drooping around the edges and while his clothes were clean, he still had dirt in his hair. "Your presence is requested," he said, then had to stifle a yawn. "Sorry, it's been a long night."

"I know, bub. Come in and sit while I get my boots," he ordered.

Reynolds came into the room and closed the door but shook his head when Logan waved at a chair. "If I sit right now, I'd likely just pass out," he admitted.

"So, what do they want?" Clint asked, sitting up. He really wished there was coffee. He'd drink it black at this point. "Do I need to come?"

"The higher ups are ready to talk about last night," Reynolds explained. "And yes, you need to be there. You were instrumental in regaining control of the base, up until we had to blow it up of course."

Logan snorted. "Of course." He ran a hand through his hair that was back to its natural spikes. "I wonder how Fury's going to take that one."

They trudged out into the daylight and around to the hotel's conference room. As the doors opened, Clint was hit by a wall of noise. Everyone was shouting and waving papers at each other, trying to be heard over everyone else. Clint lagged behind Logan, taking it all in. It surprised him how many people he recognized, including the well-dressed man in the center of the storm.

Agent Phil Coulson still looked like an accountant but he seemed much more at home here in the hustle and bustle of SHIELD agents then he had at the Ren Festival. He sat at the head of the table with a computer open in front of him and a notepad full of notes off to one side. He seemed to be paying attention to several people at once, nodding as each one made a point. He looked up as Reynolds led Logan and his ward into the chaos.

He held up his hands, and amazingly, silence fell. "Mr. Summers," he addressed Logan in measured tones. "Let's talk in the manager's office. I want to hear your side of the story. Francis, you and Agent Reynolds should join us. I understand there is coffee."

Clint glanced at Logan but when the older man nodded, Clint agreed too.

"Excellent," Coulson said. "Agent Reynolds will show you the way. I will be with you momentarily." He turned his attention back to the other agents asking for his attention. "Now, Dr. Hertz, please just give me a yes or no, is the threat contained?"

"Come on, we don't need to be here," Reynolds urged, ushering Logan and Clint around the others and down the hall to the office. Clint glanced back and spotted Agent Lee who gave him a nod of acknowledgement which made Clint grin.

The office was clean and organized and Clint cheerfully made a bee-line to the full pot of coffee. He remembered his manners just in time and poured three cups. Two he handed to the men who were grinning at him and then he started doctoring his own. The powered creamer was a disappointment, but Clint wasn't going to complain. He groaned happily as he took a sip of life giving liquid.

"You're a little young to have that intimate a relationship with coffee," Reynolds said as he sipped his own paper cup. "I don't think I started making those sounds until college."

"I'm an early bloomer," Clint shot back. "Besides, I needed something to get me through the midnight shows when we stopped in a big city." He took another pointed drink. "And my mentors wouldn't accept that as an excuse for not training at dawn. Trust me, archery is better performed fully awake." He shuddered as he remembered some of the punishments for skimping practice, but he shook it off and grinned at Logan. "When did you start?"

"When I had my first cup," Logan replied without conviction. It was obvious he was thinking of other things. "Reynolds, do you know anything about the fallout of this?"

"He does not," Agent Coulson said, opening the door. He held out his hand to Logan who just stared at it for a minute until the agent dropped it. "That is what we're here to discuss. Please, everyone have a seat."

The unflappable agent took a seat behind the desk and set up his laptop as they settled into chairs. Reynolds perched on a folding chair, but Clint snuggled into one of the two comfortably padded chairs arranged before the desk. He curled around his steaming coffee and prepared himself to pay attention to the adults.

"So, what's the word, Coulson?" Logan rumbled from his own chair. He didn't seem to appreciate how he sank into the cushions. "How'd Nick take it?"

Coulson glared at the mutant. "How do you think he took it, Mr. Logan? You blew up his base." Logan just blinked slowly, waiting. "He's not pleased, and neither am I but I understand it could have been worse. While the loss of the base is unfortunate, the real problem is the Hydra threat. Right now, we are in full suppression mode."

"You're going to cover it up?" Logan said softly, leaning forward. Clint could hear the controlled emotions in his tone.

"For now, and not for the reasons you are thinking," Coulson said, holding up his hands. "Fury doesn't want to start a witch hunt within the agency, at least not a public one. I'm sure you understand the dangers of announcing that you found a Hydra cell within SHIELD?"

Logan nodded, leaning back. He took a sip of his coffee as he thought about it. "If it gets out, you could lose government backing. If it doesn't, you'd still have your agents jumping at shadows."

"Exactly," Coulson said. He tapped a few keys on his computer and the office printer started up. "So, we are officially calling this an accident and unofficially blaming it on you. Director Fury said you wouldn't mind."

"Wait!" Clint piped up. "You're blaming everything on us? Why? We were attacked first!"

"Welcome to spycraft, bub," Logan said. "What the agent is saying is that if he pretends to hide my involvement, no one is going to look deeper for the cause of the explosion." He shrugged. "It's not the first military base I've blown up." He bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. "It's not even the first SHIELD base."

"What about all the people at the base? They all know the truth," Clint pressed.

"SHIELD is an agency of spies, Mr. Barton," Coulson said. "We are used to keeping secrets. Most of these men and women will be assigned to the taskforce charged with tracking down Hydra within SHIELD. The rest will be reassigned and sworn to secrecy." He reached behind him to snag the papers he had printed. "Here are your sworn statements. Read them over, initial each page and sign them."

"Aw, reading," Clint groaned. He grabbed the pages that Coulson pushed his way and started reading. "Wait, this doesn't sound anything like what happened. What do you mean, 'unknown assailants'?"

Coulson shook his head and held out a pen. "I just explained that we are not reporting the real cause of the explosion. This is the official story. I'll redact it appropriately and file it."

"Why?" Clint whined. He felt like he was missing something. He glanced at Logan who was signing his pages already.

Reynolds spoke up for the first time since Coulson walked in. "Clint, we don't want Hydra to know that we know about them. So we hide their involvement. But it's SHIELD, so everyone expects there to be secrets. So we give them Wolverine, who is already considered classified. That way they don't look any deeper."

"How do you fit in all of this, bub?" Logan asked, turning to consider the young agent.

"I knew that there was something not right at our Oklahoma base," Coulson answered for Reynolds. "I assigned Reynolds there to do some digging for me." He sighed. "Honestly, I thought that Smith was just embezzling. I had no idea that we were sending you into a snakes' nest."

Logan raised an eyebrow before turning back to the report before him. He finished initialing every page and signed the last line. "So, he's your spy?" he asked.

Reynolds blushed. "Agent Coulson recruited me, so when he asked me to look into the odd happenings at a SHIELD base for him, of course I said yes. Then he gave me a heads up that you were coming, told me that I should keep an eye on you for him. We weren't expecting..." He mimed an explosion with his hands.

"No one was expecting that," Coulson said, sounding tired. "But we will deal with it and use it to the best effect." He idly flipped through the signed reports. "Logan, you missed a page. Initial here." Logan growled but complied. "Thank you. Now, I spoke with Director Fury. It would be best if you can lay low for a while. What were your plans after Oklahoma?"

Logan leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "We were thinking of finding someplace to hold up for a few weeks. Git the kid started on his training and schooling."

"Perfect," the agent said, turning to dig in one of the desk drawers. "I have a new set of identities for you, complete with a bank account. If you agree to our terms, that money will be at your disposal."

Clint chanced a glance at his mentor. Logan was gnashing his teeth loud enough for him to hear. Apparently he didn't like the idea of being on SHIELD's payroll. Clint had a similar feeling. There was a reason he joined up with Logan rather than go with those SHIELD agents that first night.

"What terms?" Logan asked, carefully keeping his tone level. He still sounded pissed, and Reynolds took a step back.

Phil Coulson wasn't intimidated. "We're not putting you on the books, Wolverine. The money is for expenses related to doing us some favors like you did last night, a thank you if you will. The director plans to call you when we find another Hydra nest and then you do what you do best. In the meantime, we will protect you and Mr. Barton to the best of our abilities."

"That's it? You just want me to clean your house for you?" Logan said pointedly.

"No, we want your help exterminating the vermin, the same vermin who are after your ward," Coulson said. His smile was bland but his eyes were steely.

"If this is about me," Clint spoke up. Both men shushed him before he could finish his sentence.

"I have no problem hunting Hydra, but why me, why us?" Logan asked, pointing at Clint with a thumb. "Dealing with Hydra is why SHIELD was created."

"It is, but when it is inside our organization we need an outside prospective. You're already involved so you are the natural choice," Coulson pointed out. "Besides, you have enough of a reputation and the outside alliances to avoid suspicions. No one would believe that Wolverine works for SHIELD, which you don't, of course," he added quickly. "If Hydra notices your interference, they will assume that you're acting independently."

The room was silent while Logan considered their options. Clint tried not to squirm, but it was hard. The silence was deafening. Finally, Logan nodded. "I'll agree for now."

"Wonderful," Coulson agreed cheerfully. "Of course, you are not our only ace in the hole. Director Fury and I are working another project. We want to create a team that will be independent of SHIELD, like the X-men but not so focused on mutant issues. Can I count on your support there as well?"

Logan glowered. "Why not?" he rumbled and waved a hand dismissively.

"Splendid." Coulson handed over the envelope he pulled out earlier. "Well, that is all I wanted to discuss with you. In there are direct numbers to myself and Director Fury, but Agent Reynolds will be your main point of contact. He's the one who'll be calling you when we find something. Please check in with one of us when you settle down and keep us informed of your movements."

Logan stood up and Clint rushed to get to his feet. "Thank you, Phil. Wish I could say it was a pleasure as always."

"Likewise, Wolverine," the agent returned blandly. "Our meetings always seem to generate extra paperwork, don't they?" He turned to Clint. "It was a pleasure to see you again, Hawkeye. I hope we can get to know each other better in the future, when I'm not cleaning up after your guardian."

Clint smiled shy and bobbed his head. He wasn't real sure what had happened but it looked like they were done here. He was thankful. All this paperwork was making him itch.