This takes place after Clint leaves with Loki. Agent Phil Coulson is doing everything to locate him.

POV: Agent Phil Coulson

"We need to find Agent Barton NOW!" I yelled at the top of my lungs to make sure that everyone heard me. Agent Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, has been compromised. I have been in charge of Hawkeye since he came to S.H.E.I.L.D.

Agent Coulson could not help but think about the day that he was told that he would be retrieving Barton.

Flashback:

"Are you serious Director Fury?" I asked praying that he was kidding.

"Yes Agent Coulson, I am. Clint Barton has assassinated more people than some of our best assassins put together. Not to mention he has a very peculiar skill set that most would actually kill for," stated Director Fury with a sly smile.

"Seriously, who uses arrows anymore? By the way, wouldn't people have noticed a guy hanging around with a bow and arrow strapped to him?" I asked Fury questioningly.

"Barton sticks to the shadows, and blends into crowds. His target never sees him or hears him. It is also proven that he never misses his target, and never leaves behind witnesses. It is also said that he can see from extreme distances. All in all he is extremely dangerous," Fury stated warningly.

Then Fury told him what this was all about. "I want you to retrieve Barton, and I want him to work here. If he refuses, kill him. Be very careful though because if he is on to you beforehand, he will not hesitate to kill you."

After being dismissed I read up on the file the Director gave me. Clint Barton was twenty-one years of age and an even six feet tall. The picture in the file was taken when he was a child. Barton was good at not leaving a paper trail of any kind. What little information there was were from other assassins, but they were all rumors and legends.

It is said that when he was young his parents were killed leaving behind a seven year old boy with blondish brown hair and gray eyes. Some say that after that a group of traveling circus performers found him, and that there he was trained to be an archer. Others say that he lived in the woods and taught himself how to shoot after making his own bow and arrow. The only thing certain is that Clint Barton has not existed for about fourteen years. It was thought by the police that he perished with his parents or at least shortly after, and buried somewhere else. That was until now.

Clint Barton was a ghost, and now I have to find him. "Where are the Ghostbusters when you need them," I mumbled to myself. Now all I have to do is go to where he was last spotted, which was none other than the outskirts of Berlin, Germany. After packing, I went to my handler to get my communication gear together along with my weapons. Then I left.

2 weeks later

POV-Clint Barton

The target was Luka Richter who stole from a very prominent politician in Berlin, Germany. What did he steal? He kidnapped and tortured the politician's daughter. The police captured him, but the only evidence was the girl's testimony. The day before Emma Fischer was supposed to testify, her father found her in the bathtub. Emma left a note saying that even if Richter was behind bars, the nightmares would never stop and that he would never leave her alone. Two days later Emma Fischer was buried at the age of fifteen.

I was hired to kill Luka Richter as slow as possible. With my eye on the target, I pulled back the arrow and shot the target in the left leg. Then heard Richter's screams, but tuned them out in order to shoot again. The second shot was to his right arm, and more screams followed. Next was a shot to the stomach. Making sure the area was clear I went to the target, and proceeded to speak.

"That was for Emma Fischer you piece of scum. They make a special place in hell for people like you."

"What? She deserved every minute of what I did to her and then some!' Richter screamed

"I beat she was like you now. Crying, wanting the suffering to end. I will kill you when I want to. Emma was fifteen, and she did not deserve what you did to her."

I then proceeded to take a knife and cut Richter's left wrist knowing that he will be in more pain. I then went to Luka's left leg and pulled out the arrow. Then went and did the same to his right arm. Then got up, stepped back about ten feet, pulled back his bow , and spoke loud enough for Luka Richter to hear.

"Dies ist das ende Luka Richter. vielleicht wissen die Emma in Frieden zu leben."

(Translation: This is the end Luka Richter. Maybe know Emma will be at peace.)

After that I let go, and hit my mark right in the heart. After giving myself a minute to breathe, I went to retrieve the arrow along with anything else I didn't want to leave behind. Then I went to the hiding spot from before, collapsed the bow, and put everything in the backpack I brought. Then proceeded to change into my tourist gear, and completed the look with sunglasses. When walking away I felt like someone was watching me.

I went to where he was staying, and went up on the roof of the building. I had to pay extra in order to do so, but it was worth it. There I reflected on what I had done and cried. I could not stop thinking what would my parents say if they were alive. Taking a picture out of the bag beside me, I just stared at it. The picture was of a family of three. The man was tall, had brown hair, steel gray eyes, and a crooked smile. The woman beside him was a few inches shorter, had long wavy blonde hair, gray eyes, and a beautiful smile. She looked like an angel. The little boy looked about seven years old. He had light brown hair that was cut like his fathers, warm steel gray eyes, and the crooked smile that his father had. The child was the perfect combination of the parents. The family looked so happy.

What the family did not know was that three hours after this picture was taken. When the family arrived home the father had a feeling something was wrong. He turned to her wife and told her to stay in the car with the boy. Ten minutes later the women locked the doors to the car after telling her son to hide under a blanket they kept in the car. Minutes passed until the boy heard the screams. He opened the car door, and ran inside calling for his missing parents.

"Mommy, where are you?" He called out. Then he saw her in the doorway to the kitchen. He ran to her wondering why his mommy was so pale, and covered with read stuff. The mother's eyes where open, and tears were running down her face. She was faintly breathing. She put her hand on his cheek, and spoke.

"Sweetheart, you need to run and hide. Remember that I love you." After this her eyes closed.

"Mommy, wake up please," the little boy started to cry. A moment later he heard a bang in the other room. He shot up and ran for the front door, but before he could reach it was caught. The man from behind him grabbed his arm, and twisted it causing the child to shriek in pain. To keep the child quiet, the man took him out back, and continued to beat the child. The man let go when the screaming stopped, and the child crumpled to the floor. From behind him came another scream.

The guy turned around to find his wife crying. "You were supposed to keep him alive," she cried. The plan was to kidnap the child, but his anger got the best of him. After a few minutes he put the boy over his shoulder, and found a shovel. The man walked into the woods in back of the house. The man and woman left after the boy was in the grave when they heard sirens. Little did they know was that the boy was still alive. The police never found the boy, thinking that the couple took him.

It was raining when he woke up. The man that hit him just knocked him unconscious, and he was lucky that the couple ran off. After a few minutes, the boy created handles and footholds to climb out. He was also luck that his pockets weren't checked. Reaching in the boy took out the pocketknife his daddy gave him for his birthday. After picking up some branches, he climbed up in a tree like his daddy taught him when they went survival camping the previous summer.

In that tree the boy realized that the boy in the photograph died when he was put in the grave. He then emerged as another person. This person had no family, he had no past, worse of all he had no home. In the tree the little boy made his own bow and arrows. That was the day Conrad, Celeste, and their happy little boy Clint Barton died. The Clint Barton in the tree was now a boy filled with revenge.

Fourteen years later I am still having nightmares. The crunch of gravel made me turn around with my arrow pointed straight at the heart of the man that had been following him for the past week. The man reminded him of his father, and they also had the same eyes. The man had a gun pointed at Clint. "Put the gun down or I will shoot you. Believe me, I will not hesitate to do so."

The man placed the gun on the ground slowly, and stood with his hands in the air. "My name is Agent Phil Coulson, and I have a proposition for you Clint."

To be continued….