A/N thanks for the reviews and support.

white collar black wolf: Thanks for your review my friend. Glad you liked it.

Couslon's POV

Three months had passed since he was rescued. Two of which he had spent healing from his injuries. Many trips to the psych ward were made but eventually he was cleared to return to duty.

In this time he had not seen much of Agent Barton. The boy was either keeping himself out of trouble or on missions. Occasionally they would see each other in the mess hall. Even then it was usually in passing.

As far as he knew Barton had found himself a handler. So his focus was on teaching Sitwell how to be a good handler. His friend had taken to it like a fish to water. Something that had pleasantly surprised Phil.

He was sitting at his desk when Victoria Hand knocked on his door. It wasn't often she came to see him. Like Phil she was a level 6 agent and a handler.

She asked in her usual blunt manner, "How did you put up with Barton while he was in training?"

Where in the hell did that come from? Fury wasn't crazy enough to put Barton with Hand? That was just a disaster waiting to happen.

He asked in return, "Did Fury assign him to you?" When she nodded he snapped, " Is he insane? No offense Hand but that is a disaster waiting to happen."

She responded with a half smile, "None taken, Couslon. As for Fury going insane I have to agree with you. I'm his last chance handler wise. Fury won't put him with Sitwell who is still in training to be a handler and no one else can handle him. He won't listen to anyone but that damned doctor. Even then it's a close thing."

So Barton listened to Panov. That was a start at least. Barton had been given handler after handler it seemed. If that didn't make him question his position. Then Phil didn't know what would. They really couldn't afford to lose Barton either. He was the best long range operative they had in a long time. Hand's next words made his blood run cold.

"Couslon if he doesn't make the cut as one of mine Fury is going to cut him. I'm his last chance as an operative."

Phil realized she had come to him so that Barton had a chance. A chance to continue with SHIELD. Like himself she saw that they needed Barton. Letting him go would be disastrous for the agency. It would be like a kick in the teeth for the man too. Barton had risked his and the lives of his team to save Phil. Kicking him out would mean showing the kid had done nothing of value to the agency. Then an idea hit him.

For his part Phil only had two agents working n under him. They were in training to be handlers. He didn't take operatives out much unless it was important. Instead he went on his own missions. Even that was rare.

He asked carefully, "Would you be willing to hand him over to me, Hand? I have worked with him before. If anyone could get through to him it would be myself or Sitwell."

She dropped a previously ignored file on his desk and said, "All yours, Couslon. He's a good kid just needs someone to point him in the right direction. If you want to see him he's in the range."

With that she left his office. A sigh escaped him. She had known that he would not allow Barton to be kicked out. Known well enough to bring his file back to Phil. With a sigh he got up heading towards the range. Somehow he knew that Hand was right.

A crowd had was around one particular part of the range. Since finding out about Barton's knack with a bow the research department had taken a shine to the boy. They had made target especially for him at the range. Rumor had it they were working on a bow for him.

Phil had to push past many of the lower level agents so that he could see. Barton wasn't doing trick shots like he expected. Instead if was just regular firing. He must not like the crowd of agents.

It was something Phil could understand. While yes, Clint had been part of the circus he was also an agent. It was up to him if he wanted to perform.

He snapped to the agents surrounding Barton, "Disperse all of you. Barton! My office now."

Everyone knew about him. From the newest agents to those who were getting ready to retire. No one wanted to mess with or anger him. Not unless they had a good reason. One that would hold up to Fury. As such all the agents scattered.

Barton went to retrieve his arrows then lock up his bow. The care in which he handled his weapons was rare to see. At least that was something he wouldn't have to fix. Many agents when assigned to so many different handlers picked up bad habits. Ones that they had to be broken of before they could go on missions.

It was a short treck back to his office. One by the way Barton's shoulders slumped the boy was dreading. He likely had been told that Hand was his last shot. As such was preparing to be thrown out of SHIELD.

Going to his side of the desk he waved Barton to the chair. Barton watched him warily but didn't argue. It was unlike the boy had brought in. Phil didn't like how SHIELD had changed him since coming in.

Phil said leaning on his desk, "Agent Hand came to see me. She said that she was your last chance here at SHIELD. What happened Barton?"

Barton mumbled something incoherent. Phil snapped his patience fading, "I didn't get that. What happened, Barton?"

Barton snarled back, "They don't want me here. All of them have heard about my time as Hawkeye. They only see me as a killer. As a ticking time bomb."

Phil could understand both side of this. Barton was the killer known as Hawkeye. Someone who they had until quite recently had a kill order on. It was well within their rights to be wary of the boy. If they were telling him their fears that's when Phil had an issue.

Barton was still very insecure about his position. That much was obvious even to Phil who had not seen him since he became an agent. There was a darkness that hung around him. One that had not yet begun to fade. He knew if he was going to have Barton place any faith in SHIELD he needed to give Barton a reason to. As of yet he didn't.

Phil said tiredly, "They don't know you, Barton. They haven't seen the light in your eyes. If you leave or get kicked out it will only prove them right."

Barton asked in a quiet voice that showed his age, "What am I to do then, Couslon? Even Hand doesn't want me."

It was bad when Hand wouldn't take an operative. She didn't take crap from anyone. Typically if an operative needed discipline or a firm handler they were sent to her. She rarely didn't take an operative. For Barton it didn't look good. However Phil wasn't going to give up on his that easily. Barton had saved his life and proved himself a capable agent.

He said, "Hand won't take you but I will."

Clint's POV

In the three months since he became an agent he had gone through half a dozen handlers. Not one of them would ever work with him again. It wasn't even his fault. They had a preconceived notion about him. When he didn't fill it they dropped him.

So far the only people who would really talk to him were Panov and the research department. Panov mainly because the man wanted to help him through his identity issues. Research because he wasn't aftake to test their new weapons.

Hand was allowing him on any missions currently. Not that he minded he hoped they would get along. She was his last chance here at SHIELD. If he failed as her operatives he would be killed. No one had said it but everyone was thinking it.

Today it would be research department then range. Ignoring the stares of other agents as he passed he used the elevator to get to their floor. Due to their dangerous experiments they were one floor above the range.

Swiping his badge at the door he entered. Sam an agent who specialized in aerial combat was there. He and Clint were only a few of the agents allowed regularly into this department.

Sam was raised his hand and greeted, "Hey Clint. I think they have those arrows you requested made."

His eyes lit up with excitement. Exploding arrows! They had finally worked out how to make his exploding arrows.

Damien one of the researcher held out the quiver. When Clint took it he said, "Now those arrowheads can be interchanged out. So they can can be regular or exploding depending on the mission. In the quiver is the detonator. It's hard to miss. I would suggest trying those out tonight after most agents go to bed. Otherwise they will try to make a spectical of you. If you find anything wrong with them or modifications let us know."

Clint said quietly, "Thank you. I don't suppose my other request has been finished."

It had been two months since he put that request in. In all actuality it was a two part request. The first was a visor and jacket that would allow for simulations to be input into the visor. This was something used to train the best of Medusa. Where the Monk had gotten it he didn't know. Now they were trying to recreate the visor with his old model.

The second part was a changing training room. One that could be programmed to the same simulation as the visor. It would make training more realistic. Agents that had no prior combat experience could receive it without actually having the risk of dying. New leaders could be made without risking the lives of new agents.

Once he explained the benefits the scientists had taken to it. It would just take time and patience. Something Panov told him he was lacking.

While he lacked patience the doctor seemed to have an unending amount. He never yelled at Clint. If he thought Clint was being spiteful on purpose he might cuff the him upside the head. It was gentle not like what his father would have done.

While Clint didn't trust Panov completely he respected him. They met three times a week instead of his required two. Clint had found that Panov calmed him. Something that was not easy to do. Every time they met he left feeling less lost than when they began.

Upon leaving the research department he made his way to the range. Unsurprisingly there were agents or in training agents already there. After exchanging his explosive arrowheads with normal ones he began to practice. The new bow had a higher draw weight than he had before. It was well balanced. More so than the bow he had before. That bow had come a long way with him. All the way from his time in the circus.

Even when he was getting used to a new bow he never missed a shot. Each striking dead center in his targets. By the time he went to retrieve his arrows a crowd of agents had gathered around him to watch. Clint was pretty good at ignoring them. Panov had given him a lot of practice.

Despite his concentration he hear someone pushing past the agents. Then a voice snapped, " Disperse all of you. Barton! My office now.

His heart sank. This couldn't be good.