PLEASE BE SURE TO GO BACK AND READ CHAPTER 8!
OMG, I suck... Missed last week... Felt horrible all week. Now I'm sick and staying up to post. Thankfully Baby Clint is already in bed and asleep so he left me alone this whole time but god, I feel awful. News on Baby Clint, he is beginning to speak! YAY! Maybe by the end of this story I'll be complaining that he talks too much, lol. ^_^ He is such a doll! And boy is he really smart. We can't stop watching him for a second before he gets into something he shouldn't. Thankfully at work there are three of us to watch him. Just yesterday we were working and suddenly realized that Baby Clint was being rather silent. So we all looked over and saw that he had gotten a hold of his baby bag and took everything out of it! And there he was sucking on the dropper for his Tylenol medication. All I could think was 'thank god that's empty'.
Anyways, you guys all waited two weeks so here is the chapter meant for this week! Enjoy!
Coulson couldn't help but smile as he watched Clint rise through the ranks of the training agents. He, after killing one of S.H.I.E.L.D's other agents, only had one more week of PT before Fury ordered he be put through training. Considering how well the teen was doing, Coulson couldn't help but be proud. Already, Clint had proven himself more times than not. Sadly, after accidently killing Mendoza, Clint wasn't very popular among other agents. Nor did his ability to rise through the ranks make him very popular. The worst was his attitude. Anyone who tried to get close to the teen was driven off by his rather antagonistic personality.
"I'm thinking of putting Agent Avery as his handler," a dark brooding voice said from beside him. Coulson frowned, trying to place the agent from his memory of everyone. When he couldn't, Coulson looked to Fury. Already the Director had a file ready. Slowly, Fury handed it over. Taking a minute to look away from Clint training in the other room, Coulson read through the file.
"This won't work," Coulson stated, not even past the first page. Fury frowned. It had been near impossible to find someone that looked like they could work well with the teen. Never mind someone who was willing too after learning about Mendoza. "Avery doesn't have enough experience."
"Who do you suggest?" Fury countered, turning to face his friend. Coulson sighed deeply, mentally shifting through the names of agents through his head.
"Agent Tanner?" Coulson suggested. Fury frowned. He hadn't thought of him before. Clint suddenly shouted for joy at something in the training room below. The duo looked down to see that Clint, who had been running through an obstacle course, had just beaten the time record. Already they could see the other agents in the room grumbling in disgust even though Clint didn't brag about beating the record. Sighing deeply, Coulson became even more distressed when he noticed that Agent Tanner had been in the room as well and was as upset as the other agents. Fury noticed as well.
"You sure?" the Director asked. Coulson rolled his eyes.
"Give me a bit."
"I was in training for only two months," Clint told the others.
"How old were you at this point?" Steve questioned. Clint shrugged as he thought back on the whole situation.
"About four months away from turning 19," Clint answered. The others froze.
"You were that young?" Bruce called. Clint nodded, feeling that the others were overreacting just a bit. Especially Natasha, who had been an assassin since she was close to about four years old.
"I'm the youngest S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the history of the organization. And more than likely there will never be someone younger after all the trouble I gave them. Most agents who get recruited are around 21 years or older," Clint informed them.
"You mentioned that 40 was a low number of recorded kills. What is the true number?" Thor mumbled. Clint tensed. He had kind of hoped he could skim over that part. Then again, Clint wasn't even sure his mental number was the right number anyways. Sighing deeply, and fearing that he was about to lose his team, Clint answered.
"Around 167 or so."
"Skipping to a new topic," Tony muttered after a long, long pause. Clint almost sagged in relief at their lack of reaction. "Who ended up being your handler? It was Agent, wasn't it?"
"I actually had around five handlers before Fury demanded that Coulson take me back. And all that happened around the time that I was 19. Hell, my first mission was on my birthday," Clint laughed. No one laughed with him. But Clint wasn't fazed. "My first handler was a chick. A stupid blond bitch named Agent Holiday."
"Barton," a female voice snapped down the hall as Clint swiftly moved through the crowds to sneak back into his room. He froze at the authoritative voice. It didn't sound like Deputy Director Maria Hill. But he didn't know any other female agents. Slowly he turned around to see a blond woman stomping toward him. Her brown eyes were already giving him a disapproving gaze. "You were supposed to meet me in my office at 8. It is now 12."
"How was I supposed to know? No one told me," Clint answered. The agent didn't seem to agree with this as she reached out and grabbed Clint by the collar of his shirt. Knowing that this woman was his higher up, Clint fought with his sudden need to deck her. Her brown eyes narrowed into angry slits. Clint forlornly stared at what was his lunch. It had now fallen to the ground.
"You will meet me in my office at 1 o'clock. If I don't see you then I'm going to suspend you range privileges for a week," the woman snarled as if Clint understood who she was and where her office was. Clint's eyes narrowed at the threat as he looked up to her. No one threatened to take away his range access since Fury announced that Clint was a distance operative.
"Who are you?" Clint called. The woman scoffed, tossing Clint back down onto his feet. He stumbled back two steps, his leg still giving him trouble now and then. Without answering she turned with a huff and stormed off. Everyone gave her a wide birth and watched as she passed before turning to look at Clint. Many of them wondered what the teen had done to piss the woman off.
Grumbling, Clint glanced down at the watch that Coulson had given him once he finished signing the papers to join S.H.I.E.L.D. It read that it was 12:10 pm. Sighing, Clint headed off in the direction that the woman stormed off too. After about thirty minutes of wandering around, Clint understood that he had no idea where he was going. For a minute he wondered if he should ask for help but as he looked around for someone to ask, he realized that he couldn't. He had no idea who this woman was and there were surprisingly a large number of female agents who were blond with brown eyes.
"Great... Now I'm gonna lose my range privileges," Clint moaned. Someone cleared their throat from behind him. Clint turned around, trying to hide the fact that the person surprised him. It ended up being Coulson, and judging by the twinkle in his eye, the older agent knew he had surprised the teen. "What?"
"Why would you lose your privileges?" Coulson asked. Clint groaned, leaning against the wall.
"Some female agent wants me to meet her in her office at 1 but I don't know where it is or who she was. She also claimed that I was supposed to see her this morning but no one ever told me," Clint whined. Coulson nodded, already knowing what was going on. Slowly he began to move away. Without question, Clint pushed off the wall and followed. Five minutes later, they were standing outside of the locked office door of Agent Krystal Holiday. Coulson knocked on the door but received no answer. Clint glanced down at his watch. It was 12:52. "She still has time to show up. But Coulson, who is she?"
"Agent Holiday has been assigned as your handler," Coulson explained, deciding to stay with Clint until the female agent arrived. Clint cocked his head to the side in confusion. Coulson smiled. "She'll be dealing with your missions, your files, and anything else needed. It is her job to make sure you are healthy, always mission ready, and in control."
"She sure doesn't make a great first impression," Clint mumbled. Coulson nodded, agreeing that Holiday may have treated Clint unfairly before being properly introduced. Two minutes to 1, Holiday appeared, rushing around the corner.
"Oh! Agent Coulson, I didn't expect you. I would have gotten here sooner," Holiday called when she noticed the older agent was leaning against her locked door frame along with her newest asset. Coulson nodded.
"Was just helping Agent Barton find your office," Coulson answered before nodding his good-bye to Clint. Clint nodded a thanks back and watched as the older agent left. Holiday kept a soft smile on her face until she was certain that Coulson was indeed leaving and not going to turn around and check on her. Once she was good, she spun on Clint, slamming him into the wall. Yet again, Clint resisted beating her off of him.
"Don't ever bother superior officers for such menial tasks. You should have known where my office was," Holiday snarled at him before unlocking her door and stepping inside. Clint waited in the hallway, working on trying to calm his angered body. All he really wanted to do right then was go in and beat the living shit out of the woman called Holiday. But before he could fully calm down... "You coming in or not cause I can still revoke your privilages."
"Coming," Clint grunted before heaving a breath and walking into the office. Holiday was sitting behind her desk on the far side of the room. Only the desk she was behind, the chair she was in, and filing cabinets that lined the place filled the room. Clint had nowhere to sit. Grunting at the knowledge that Holiday was using this as an intimidation factor, Clint stood at Army rest.
"I have a mission for you," Holiday began without even looking up to see if Clint had indeed come into the room. Clint nodded, not knowing that S.H.I.E.L.D regulations demanded that handler and asset is supposed to train together on fake missions before real world missions. Used to going out on a mission with limited intel and sometimes even a tag along partner to confirm a hit, Clint felt like he was ready. "The mission is to follow this man here for a week before executing him in a public area."
"Why?" Clint questioned, having believed that he would be able to considering what Coulson had told him during the recruitment phase. Holiday jerked up as if she had been struck.
"Why?" she snarled. Clint immediately knew he shouldn't respond. "Why?" She stood up, her voice getting angrier than before. "You don't get to ask why. You just do."
"Yes ma'am," Clint retorted, sounding slightly hurt and confused. Holiday walked around her desk, picking up a file on the way.
"Here is the mission, read it on the way. Your flight leaves in five minutes," Holiday mentioned, slamming the file into his chest before turning back around. Clint frowned at her back but accepted the file and turned to leave. "Did I say you were dismissed?"
"I thought we were done, considering my flight is in five minutes," Clint explained. Holiday sneered at him.
"Don't forget to go to the weapon's locker and get the sniper rifle," she growled. Clint stiffened. Though he had been training on the rifle for the past month, he was still more comfortable with his bow. And even then, the trainer had told Clint that he wasn't signed off on most weapons still. "Make sure you us the rifle. I got the paperwork filled out this morning."
"Yes, ma'am," Clint answered before nodding a farewell and turning out of the office.
"Holiday didn't go on the mission with me. I had just the pilot until he dropped me off and then I was on my own. I had to use the file, which I could barely read, to find the safe house and stalk the mark. Needless to say, I never made it to the safe house. I set up a nest in the middle of the city and moved it every couple of days. Four days into the mission, I finally realized that this man wasn't doing anything wrong. He was just involved with the wrong men. In fact, they had his daughter and wife and were threatening him. So I tried to report it in."
"I don't care," Holiday snapped. "You are ordered to find a public place and kill the target."
"But he's innocent!" Clint cried into the comms in shock. Already Holiday had gone on a huge rant about the paperwork she had to file when he never made it to the safe house. Clint tried to explain that he couldn't read the file she handed him but she apparently didn't believe him. Holiday huffed into the comms.
"You are ordered to kill the target," Holiday snarled. Clint stiffened. He remembered what Coulson had told him during the recruitment. As much as Holiday was refuting everything the older agent had told him, Clint didn't want to ruin things. But he also didn't want to take the hit. His decision was made when the target was able to get a visit from his little girl. The man held onto her so tightly and all Clint could do was think about his first target ever. The first kill where he got two for one.
"I won't do it," Clint called. Holiday growled.
"You will do it or I will have you tossed in jail," she yelled into the comms. Clint tensed, thinking back on his short time in the cells while he was healing. While it was admittedly not as great as he thought, it wasn't that bad either. He now had a choice of deal with the guilt of killing this man who was protecting his family or getting thrown in jail.
"Then throw me in jail," Clint hissed before shutting off his comm. Not knowing that his comm had a tracker in it, Clint went on a new mission. He was going to kill all the men who were stopping this father from protecting his family. During the day, they were all spread out too much. These men were smart. They didn't want anyone to notice that they were keeping the wife and daughter from the father, so they followed the two woman all day long. But at night, the woman were kept in the basement of the house. The father was upstairs and the men all spread about the first floor.
At first, Clint had assumed that these men where security personal. So he had written them off. But as he watched them, he had learned enough. These men were meant as a threatening tool against the family. They were thugs. Only one of them seemed truly intelligent and even then, S.H.I.E.L.D had trained Clint to be thousands of times better.
Night hit faster than expected and Clint was please to see that it was a night of a new moon. In the pitch black, his darkened S.H.I.E.L.D clothing made it even easier to disappear. His hide out from the day was different from the area he planned on actually doing the killing from, so he waited until most of the neighborhood was shut up in bed before moving. Shouldering the rifle, Clint set himself up in the building adjacent to the house of the original target. Wishing for his bow, Clint began to get prepared.
The lights in the basement were the first out. A sign that the wife and daughter had gone to bed. Minutes later, a man arrived in the front living room. The wife and daughter were now alone. Clint readied his rifle but just watched. Only three men were in the living room. But Clint already knew that seven men watched over the family. Two more men entered the front room and the five began to gather around the TV. Using his scope, Clint found the other two men in an adjacent room. Knowing he had all his targets sighted, he took his first shot.
The man in the back room dropped his head onto the dining room table as if he had just suddenly fallen asleep. Clint reloaded his rifle as the other man in the back room began to understand that his leader was dead. The archer watched as the man jumped to his feet and opened his mouth to call out before taking the second shot. It hit before a sound was made. Clint glanced at the rifle with a smile as he reloaded it once again. The silencer on the rifle was better than he expected. It almost seemed as silent as his bow.
Refocusing on the remaining five men, who were too distracted by the TV to realize that two of them were dead, Clint readied himself. This was going to be tougher. Five men meant once one was dead there was going to be four different reactions. And who know what each one would take. Analyzing the men, Clint decided to go for the largest man in the room. He was sitting at such an angle that once Clint took the shot, his brains splattered all over the TV. Clint only had three seconds to load the next round before the remaining four men reacted. One jumped to his feet, another ducked down and the third spun to trace the angle of the shot. The fourth was the one that Clint killed as he tried to cry out in shock.
Clint watched as the fourth man dropped onto the one who had fallen to the ground. The one who had jumped to his feet pulled a gun. Clint readied his rifle again as the third man pointed in a similar direction to where Clint was hiding. Frowning, Clint shot him next. The man who had drawn his gun spun and took a wild shot in Clint's direction. A good six feet away, dust exploded as the bullet bit into the building. Clint grimaced and loaded another shot. The man, using a small handgun, took another shot. This time it was only two feet away. Clint shot before he could get closer. The last man rushed to his feet and ran toward the stairs. Growling, Clint followed the shadow of the man as he rushed upstairs and into the master bedroom. The father, who had been trying to sleep in his bed, jerked up in shock and watched as Clint took his final shot.
The father was quick to realize what happened and jumped out of bed and ducked below the window sill. Clint shifted the rifle down as he watched the window. It took five minutes, a long time for someone to freak out mind you, before the father shifted to look out the window. When nothing happened, the man slowly got to his feet. Clint watched as the man took another minute to realize he wasn't getting shot at before rushing to the door and moving the dead body. Once the door was open wide enough for him to slip out, the father quickly moved downstairs. Clint waited until the basement light turned on before packing up his rifle and getting ready to leave.
Just as Clint was stepping out into the street, a few cop cars appeared at the end of the road. Clint smiled at the scene before turning around and heading toward the airport that the S.H.I.E.L.D pilot told him to meet at unless there was any trouble. Not really considering disagreeing with his handler as any trouble, Clint didn't expect that anything changed. He arrived almost hour later after making sure that no one was following him and was stunned to see not just the pilot sitting there but Holiday, Coulson and a few more agents that Clint didn't know. Before Clint could speak, Holiday looked to the unknown agents and pointed at him.
"Arrest him," she demanded. Clint stopped, gaping at her in surprise. As the agents marched forward, readying some twist ties, Clint looked to Coulson. The older agent was staring at him with a rather blank face. A face that Clint would later deem Coulson's disappointed face.
"Wait, you don't understand!" Clint cried, dropping the rifle case to the ground as he held his hands up in defense. The agents tensed, knowing that Clint was a highly trained assassin. Coulson's hand shifted to his waist, an area that Clint already knew held the agent's gun. Holiday didn't pause, she drew her weapon, flicked off the safety and trained it on the teen.
"Just make this easy on yourself. We wouldn't want a repeat of your recruitment," Holiday stated as if Clint intended to get shot. Clint frowned and focused on Coulson. The older agent shook his head, indicating that he wanted him to give up. Clint dropped his hands behind his back and turned around, giving the other agents the ability to tie him up. Not facing them made him anxious, especially knowing that Holiday had trained her gun on him. When the agents finally grabbed his wrist, Clint jumped and the agents acted as if they thought he was going to fight. Slamming him into the ground, Clint felt his cheek getting cut up by the asphalt as he called out.
"I'm not fighting!"
"Go easy," Coulson commanded after that. The agents backed off slightly but still forcefully tied him down. The ties were wrapped around his wrists and tied together before being pulled tight. So tight that Clint almost swore that they cut off circulation. Once they finished that, they began to pat him down. Pulling out a small Army knife, a set of nail clippers, a nail file and a packet of gum, they finally pulled him to his feet. Holiday stepped forward when they turned the archer back around.
"If I had my way, you would be shot where you stand. But the Director has ordered that you be brought in for a review. I pray you fail," Holiday growled. Clint said nothing to her. He focused on Coulson. The older agent sighed deeply. Clint looked away, not wanting to feel his own disappointment and failure at this whole thing. He had thought S.H.I.E.L.D was going to be good for him but apparently, Clint was destined to suffer.
"Coulson didn't believe that bitch did he?" Tony called. Clint smirked, looking over everyone's faces. They ranged from shocked to horrified to pissed off. It made him feel even better. Maybe there was something good about sharing his past with his teammates. But as he looked over them again, Clint began to feel that maybe that he shouldn't just call them teammates. They were quickly becoming his friends.
"He could not have! Our friend is more intelligent than that!" Thor declared.
"Does this Agent Holiday still work for S.H.I.E.L.D?" Natasha hissed, wanting to beat the crap out of the female agent that she had never meet before.
"Holiday died on a mission a few years back. And if Coulson believed her, would I really still be here?" Clint questioned. Bruce chuckled at the others as Clint sighed back into the bed.
"How are you feeling?" Steve questioned. Clint shrugged.
"Like a building exploded on me," he joked. This time everyone lightly laughed. "These pain meds do a hell of a job, making me feel better all."
"Are they making you tired? I can ask to have them changed," Bruce mentioned. Clint shook his head.
"I actually can't have anything else. I'm allergic to most pain meds," he admitted. Bruce shifted. He hadn't known this before and considering the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D was pushing for him to become the Avengers' primary doctor, this was something he'd need to know. Then again, Bruce hadn't had the time to read through the files that S.H.I.E.L.D had e-mailed him a few weeks prior. "Don't worry. The talking is helping."
"Well, were you tossed in jail or did Coulson rescue you beforehand?" Tony cried, wanting to know the rest of the story. Clint laughed at the billionaire's reaction.
"I got tossed in an interrogation room and left for a few hours. Maybe around three or four hours. Just enough time for the news to get an interview of the target announcing his thanks to the mystery assassin that killed the group that was trying to blackmail him into doing something against his wishes," Clint began. Tony smirked, pleased with this turn of events.
"I thought you said I could deny a hit! I told Holiday that the mark was good! I told her what was going on! Why wouldn't she listen?" Clint screamed as Coulson entered the interrogation room. The older agent was shocked at the veracity of Clint's voice and backed away from the teen in surprise. After spending so long reviewing the whole situation, Coulson and Fury had come to the same conclusion. Clint and Holiday were the worst match ever and Holiday was the one who needed review, not Clint.
"Don't worry about it. We've gone over the whole case and you were in the right about the mark. But, there has to be some action against going on your own and killing all those other men," Coulson began. Clint went to whine but the older agent held up a hand and stopped him. For a moment, Clint thought to speak anyways but wondered what Coulson wanted to say, so he clamped his mouth shut. "You are going to be banned from missions for three weeks. Most of that is also going to be spent introducing you to your new handler."
"Who do I get now? You?" Clint asked, nearly beaming in pleasure. Coulson shook his head no and Clint nearly deflated at the idea.
"Agent Paradise," Coulson answered, looking toward the door. Clint frowned wondering why all the handlers had such stupid names. The door opened again to a tall man with black hair and dark chocolate brown eyes. Clint glared at him as the man calmly walked over, thrust his hand out to Clint and waited. Slowly, Clint gripped the hand and was stunned at the rather fake strong grip and forceful shake of his hand.
"Agent Remmy Paradise," the agent stated in a rather feminine tone. Clint glanced over at Coulson. Coulson smirked and nodded his head, pretty much asking Clint to get along with the other agent. "I want to be upfront with you. I am gay and in a very stable relationship."
"Okay," Clint muttered, unsure what to make of the agent. He had no problem with the guy being gay. There were two gay couples that traveled with the circus. Just as long as the agent did hit on him.
"I heard that you are not allowed on missions for three weeks?" Paradise asked. Clint nodded. "Good, gives me time to see what you can and cannot do!"
"Paradise lasted those three weeks before he resigned as my handler. Apparently his lover didn't like him spending so much time with me. Even though the other man knew that Paradise was my handler," Clint said. He stopped when he heard chuckling. Someone was trying not to laugh. Clint immediately turned to Tony. And indeed, the genius was trying not to laugh.
"I thought Bruce was lying when he said you were in the circus!" Tony guffawed. Clint shook his head.
"Nope. Most of my teenage years were with the circus. Actually... I was 10 when I first joined and 16 when I left," Clint mentioned.
"You learn anything interesting in the circus?" Steve asked, looking very interested. Clint realized that Steve had grown up during the time when Circus's were really popular. He must have always dreamed of either going or even joining himself. Clint smiled.
"I learned a lot. Most of my first year was spent being as helpful as possible and doing not just my chores, but Barney's chores as well. It was maybe three days after my 11th birthday that that all changed."
"That was when you got found by Trickshot?" Bruce guessed. Clint nodded, glad that the doctor had actually been paying attention.
"Yeah. I had stole a practice bow that he was using for another boy he was trying to train. The boy kept complaining that the bow was making him miss. I used it whenever they weren't training. The first time I used it, I hit the edge of the target. My second time, hit the inside ring near the center. The third hit dead center. In less than a week, I was hitting near dead center every time. But that was just standing still in front of a stationary target. Not good enough for a show, but good enough for Trick to think it was worth switching over to me."
I'm so glad that I go back through each chapter before I post it. I almost completely skipped over Clint saving his original target. _ Hope you enjoyed! Please Review, Favorite and Follow!