Clint's POV

Limping towards his apartment. He had been shot and now he had to make it back to his apartment. This was not the first time he had been shot. The first time was when he was fifteen.

Shuddering at the thought of it. That time in his life had not been a happy one. Even now his time now as an assassin didn't compare. He nearly had been blown away several times. Killed more people than he could kill.

A sound made him cock his head to the side and stop. Leaning his on his good leg. There was the sound of shuffling footsteps.

Someone was coming up behind him. Drawing his bow leaning against the wall next to him to steady himself. A man in a suit stood in front of him. How? How did the man find him?

Flashback

He was on top of the roof top watching an apartment. Below him was a busy street. Cars were passing by at speeds that were unnatural. Yet he didn't pay any attention to them. Instead his eyes were on the apartment.

In the apartment he was looking at was third from the left on the fourth floor. A man was in front of the window with a glass of what appeared to be brandy. By the way the man was drinking it he was drunk. Very very drunk. It would make the shot easy.

From what he had observed the man was a lone wolf. None of his usual stipulations would apply. He didn't kill children, in front of children, or women with children. He was a killer with a set of morals. Not a monster either. When he killed he did so with a purpose. It would be fast.

Taking a deep breath he drew back his arrow. His thumb slowly drew back. It touched the jaw bone on his left cheek. The arrow was steady. He would not miss.

When he let out his breath he released the arrow. True to his name it hit its mark. As soon he confirmed the man was dead he was down the side of the building.

It was easier than when he spent time Vietnam. The building was much easier than the forest he was used to. He dropped silently to the ground.

Movement to his right caught his attention. Cold grey eyes turned to the movement. His hands grabbed at his bow.

A man in a suit stood there. His stance was wide ready for a fight. A curious cock of his head told Clint that he wasn't there to fight. For whatever.

Clint ordered," Move. You never saw me."

The man said with a calm voice," I cannot do that, Hawkeye."

Clint's grip tightened on his bow drawing an arrow. He didn't want to shoot the man. This man was not his target. Though he would if he had to.

The man said still curious," So it's true. You do prefer a bow to a gun."

Clint said cockily," That I do and I don't miss. What's it to you, Suit?"

"Suit?"

Clint grinned. The man annoyed him so he annoyed the other back. Simple but effective tactic.

Clint answered," I don't have your name. Neither do I care to. By the way you hold yourself you are government. Likely CIA or something similar. Let me tell you now. I'm not interested."

If Clint was to bet money he would say the other was sent by Conklin. Not that he would return to the agency. Medusa had been enough. He had done enough there. There wasn't a chance that he would return.

The man said," I am with a different agency. One that is very interested in you, Hawkeye. I am Agent Coulson of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcment and Logistics Division."

He couldn't help it. Clint laughed. That had to be the most ridiculous acronym he had heard in a long time. His laugh was not warm though. It was the cold laugh heard many times in Medusa. It was Delta's laugh.

He said after a moment," Someone must have really wanted to spell shield. As I have told every agency that has found me. The answer is no."

:I will not join an agency. Not for all the money in the world.: were his unspoken thoughts.

Coulson said with a sigh," You either come in willingly or i take you by force. Either way you are coming in."

Clint didn't even bother to respond. Instead he fired his arrow aiming not to kill but to distract. Much faster than he expected from the agent the man drew his gun.

As he released his arrow the man shot him in the upper tigh. The pain was excruciating but he pushed through it. Using a second arrow to distract the man he hobbled down the street. He hae to get to his apartment. There he could patch up his leg and escape out of the city.

End of flashback

He stared at the man. How in the hell had he found him? Did they know where his apartment was? If they had been in it he was in trouble. His journal had incriminating evidence that could trace back his past. Trace him all the way back to the black ops program he joined.

Forcing the memories to the back of his mind he drew back another arrow. Why wouldn't this man leave him alone? He was after Hawkeye right? As Hawkeye he wasn't that big of a fish. They should have left him be. What did this SHIELD want with him?

His vision was swimming now from the blood loss. His aim was no longer so steady. It wasn't a terrible wound nothing like what he received in the forests of Tam Quan.

The man didn't say anything this time just moved closer. When he was too close Clint fired again. The man dodged out of the way then grabbed the bow.

They grappled with it. Clint was unsteady on his bad leg. Still he fought valiantly to keep ahold of his best weapon. This was supposed to be a simple job. So he hadn't brought any of his other weapons just a knife. Now he was seriously regretting that decision.

Seeming to have enough of his fighting Coulson kicked his bad leg. White hot pain shot up body as it gave out. As he went down he tried to hold onto his bow. Instead it was twisted out of his hands by the agent. Sent clattering to the ground far out of his reach.

Now the gun was back in his face. Clint stared at it coldly. If this was where he was to die he would do so with honor. He refused to beg for his life.

What he didn't expect was for the man to bend down and start bandaging his leg. It surprised him so much the question was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Why are you helping me?"

Coulson didn't even look up," Because I believe we can come to an agreement. As I have said I work for an agency called SHIELD. My orders were to bring you in or shoot you. Now you have three options. You can bleed out here. I can shoot you in the head and see that you get a proper burial. Or you can come with me."

For the first time since the agent had begun to bandage his leg their eyes met. Coulson had hazel eyes. Not unlike those of Conklin. They were just as honest as his had been. It seemed like a life time ago that he and Conklin had met.

Using the same judgment he had back then he gave his answer," I'll come with you."

Coulson's POV

Once Barton was loaded into the Quinjet he took a seat in the cockpit. His mind was going over every thing he had learned in a short time. The first thing he had noticed was Barton's eyes.

In his file Barton's eyes were said to be blue. Blue as the sky. Yet when he looked into them as they fought they were grey. Grey like storm clouds just before a terrible storm.

Phil was going to kill him like his orders said. Those grey eyes were of someone who was too far gone. There wasn't going to be a second chance for the Hawkeye.

Then when he stared down at the younger man he saw it. The eyes had turned blue. While they had been determined to face his death with dignity. That's what made him stay his hand. To give the Hawkeye a chance to turn around. Half expecting the other to tell him to fuck off.

Instead he heard the unexpected words," I'll come with you."

So Phil had finished apply emergency first aid. Then dragged the younger to the Quinjet.

With a sigh he knew he couldn't avoid this conversation forever. So he dialed the all too familiar number. After a few short phrases to confirm his identity he waited.

The familiar deep voice of Nick Fury answered," Tell me you have killed the target?"

He said evasively," Not exactly, Marcus."

He heard the older man swear on the other side of the line. They had been friends for a long time. Even before Phil had joined SHIELD. In fact it had been Nick who convinced the other to join.

Nick growled," Tell me he's in the Quinjet."

Cheekily he replied," He's not in the quinjet."

Nick swore heavily on the other side of the line. Phil was pretty well known for picking up strays. People that no one would have expected to be taken into SHIELD. They had turned out well for the most part. He expected Barton to be one such case.

Nick asked," What in God's name made you bring him in? Phil I have allowed you to bring many strays in. This is not some puppy that can be brought in. He's a stone cold killer."

"One that had the chance to kill me tonight. Instead of killing me he aimed to stop. Not kill. Not maim. To stop."

Barton had plenty of chances to kill him tonight. Yet he didn't take them. That was not the actions of someone who warranted a death sentence. That was why Phil gave him a choice.

Phil said breaking the long silence," He would make an excellent asset. We need more long range assets, Cheese."

The growl that answered him was angry. He knew he was right though. Barton would make an excellent long range asset. No one else could have made a shot like the one he made.

Well that wasn't entirely true. SHIELD heard of a black ops group that was disbanded about two years ago. One of theirs could have made that shot.

Delta of Team Century 12. The Medusa team that never failed a mission. They had a perfect record of doing the impossible. Including the extraction of an army Lieutenant that had been captured.

Delta had led the group. He was the best sniper in the entire operation. Like Hawkeye he never missed a shot. The difference between the two men was astounding though.

According to their files Delta would never have been captured. He would have chosen death first. Even once the group was disbanded. No one knew what happened to the operative.

Some say he went into a mercenary group. Or had been picked up by one of the government agencies. Others though someone had killed him. Personally Phil didn't care as long as he didn't have to deal with the man.

Fury said with another growl," I want to meet with him. Before we accept or shoot him. I will see for myself the "asset" you brought in."