A/N – Crawls out from under rock IM ALIVE! Im so sorry I haven't updated! Life got busy, I had writers block, I didn't know how I wanted this to go, and its gone midnight now and I have made this chapter for you. Thank you all for you amazing reviews! I haven't abandoned you all! And this is the longest chapter (length and word count wise) so far!

After a few minutes of walking Clint began to feel light headed, shaking his head to try clear the feeling he only managed to stumble a few steps, and that only resorted in his being roughly pulled up by his 'best-friend' mumbling something like 'fuck off' when he was pushed forward again far to roughly only resorted in him being pushed further, sending him into another round of light headedness except, this time literally bought him to his knees on the ground.

"Get up or I will force you up again" Coulson growled at Clint, anger bleeding into his tone, this was the 2nd time the kid had stumbled in the past few minutes…

"Easier said than done…" Clint grumbled back, which only ended in him being yanked up by the cuffs, finding that his legs had gone limp from the sudden movement, he couldn't support his own weight and fell back to the ground completely going limp and lying on the floor not being able to use his legs to support his body any longer.

"Get up in the next 10 seconds or I will shoot you again!" Coulson snarled at him.

Clint feigned a laugh, and promptly passed out afterwards.

Pressure. That was the first thing Clint registered when his mind started coming too. Cracking both of his eyes open fast, he saw the source of the pressure, he had a set of hand cuffs on both of his wrists and his ankle as well, binding him to the bed, pulling against them as hard as he could to try get free, if there was one thing Clint didn't like it was being restrained, only made worse by the fact he was in an unfamiliar place, in a cell by the looks of it, restrained to a bed, with an IV poking out of his arm, and his left ankle hurt like a bitch. Tugging more at the restraints he tried spinning his right wrist around in semi-circular movements while pulling back to try ease his way out of them, sadly though, all this resorted in was his wrist getting cut up even more (since they had decided to leave him with the cold metal ones with the sharp edges…) swearing internally, he started tugging at his ankle restraints instead trying to get them free with little luck…

Clint nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice over a speaker he didn't know was there spoke "Stop what you are doing immediately", seriously where had they hidden a speaker?!

Deciding that he was being held hostage he took a look around the room from his limited viewing position. He noted there were cameras covering every blind spot there could be, the door was locked with a heavy duty lock, so no chance in hell he was going to be able to pick that lock without being caught, and even more so since he couldn't actually move in his current position..

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" Clint shot back, staring at the camera pointed straight at his face, a firm smirk plastered on his face.

"If you would like that we would be more than happy to oblige"

"Well isn't that a comforting thought. SHIELD, the agency that if you move are happy to shoot you. Is that normal for you lot or is it just me you're treating like this?"

"We treat all out high threat prisoners with caution."

"Oh so im a prisoner now, I thought I was being held against my will since I didn't accept your job offer."

"That still makes you out prisoner."

"Thought prisoners were meant to be in prison cells. And this certainly doesn't look like any prison cell I have ever been in." Clint drawled out, honestly, in this room he felt like he was being used for experiments…

"You are in one of our prison cells, just in the medical bay because you were injured."

"And who's fault was that oh wise and powerful voice?"

"Yours."

"Really? You know you guys really are taking precautions… in your 'prison cell medical area' with 3 guards posted outside of the door, Heavy duty cuffs on both my ankle and wrists. Oh and surveillance cameras covering every inch of the room. My oh my, you people must be worried."

"We take precautions with people like you."

"People like me."

"Yes. Put it this way. Your reputation hasn't gone un noticed around here. Everyone here knows who Hawkeye is, and how many people you have killed. So don't expect us to go without our precautions."

"Well aren't you a cheery bunch of people." Clint drawled out, sarcasm dripping from his tone. Honestly, one minute they say they will kill him, the next he's in 'jail'.

'Where's your get out of jail free card when you need it' Clint Thought.

After a few moments of silence Clint assumed there was going to be no reply. Well so much for talking to keep him entertained.

About 15 minutes later, after Clint had decided count the amount of dots on ceiling and swiftly realizing, the walls didn't have any sort of pattern on them or the ceiling and were all stark white. A nurse walked in to put something in his IV. And promptly left, a firm scowl set on her face. Did anybody smile around here?

And not even a minute later, he felt the sharp tugs of sleep trying to claim him back into the darkness.

The next time Clint woke, he realized the guards had changed shifts and were looking less cautious since they thought he was asleep... the next thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone in the room. 'must be the drugs' Clint deduced. Turning his head to the right he came face to face with none other than Agent Coulson, sat in a plastic chair reading through a file, a pen in hand occasionally scribbling something out and writing another thing below it.

"So, my mystery captor returns, with a file to read to keep him entertained. Never heard of games? You play them. Keep you entertained. Should try it sometime keep you more entertained than reading some file and vandalizing it."

"How old are you exactly?" Coulson questioned, completely dis regarding Clint's earlier remark.

"I don't see how that is your business"

"It is my business since your file" He gestured waving his hand at the file in his lap "Is rather small, and from what I can tell, very inaccurate."

"And what would my file being correct have to do with you and killing me? Since I am not joining your little trigger happy club." Clint snarked, seriously, didn't this guy get the hint, he was an assassin, and you didn't just switch to the other side, since most of the time you were dead before that happened… luckily Clint hadn't met that fate yet.

"Because, we if you come on as an asset then it needs to be up to date. When better to that than the present?"

"No."

"So you favour death then."

"I can't be a 'good guy'" Clint sighed, didn't this guy get it? He wasn't a good guy. He was the guy the good guys wanted to kill. The one that had a target painted on his forehead. He had killed over 90 people. (He took a lot of contracts… some being groups ok?)

"And why is that?"

"I don't have it in me to be a good guy." Clint mumbled under his breathe. Obviously Coulson had to have heard that though… yet it wasn't surprising since you could hear a pin drop in the silence in this room.

"Everyone has it in them to be a good guy. You just need to believe you do" Honestly, Coulson genuinely felt sorry for this guy, even though SHIELD only had a small bit of his past that was very vague and had lots of gaps, he could tell the kid had been through a lot. And right now? He didn't look like an assassin, not the cold hearted Hawkeye he met in the alley only a few days ago. Right now he looked like a kid. However old he was, he couldn't of been older than 19 and that was at a push. No Coulson didn't want to mentor a unstable mentally insane kid back to the good side, so he could be an asset, far from it, he just didn't want to see him go down that path any further, yet, if asked, he still would put a bullet through his brain. He was after all an assassin who had killed a lot of people and had no remorse for it by the looks of things. He was the people SHIELD went after, after all.

"Yeah well those people aint me now are they" Clint snarled.

And there is was. The hard, dark, shaded mask Hawkeye wore most of the time. Didn't this kid get it? He could be a good guy, if he was willing to accept the training, yet, if someone wasn't willing to change sides, you had next to no chance of getting them to switch, in fact, you were more likely to get yourself killed or injured in the process.

"We can help you know." Coulson told him, trying to appear neutral but letting his eyes show he was telling the truth, he had to get this kid to believe him, even if it was to just prolong his death for a few months.

Clint bit back a laugh at that, Help him? People had tried to help him in the past and look where that ended him? Last person that had said they would help him, stabbed him. And left him for dead. In the dirt and rain. Yeah… not a nice place to bleed out…

Turning his head so it was facing the left side of the room Clint sighed. He couldn't believe he actually was considering this but, he had been a bad guy for a while now, it was tiring, he hated it, and maybe being on the good side would help? Help him clean his ledger a bit? But what if this was a trap, what if they got him onto their side, gained his trust, get him to do their dirty work, just to ditch him down the line and forget he ever existed? Could he risk that happening again?

"You can trust us. We look after our own" Coulson told him, truth bleeding into his tone and expression, he couldn't believe he was actually trying to convince a deadly assassin to deflect to the good side, yet, his superiors had told him it would be a good idea and if he would come to their side then 'he would be a great asset Coulson, the kid has a skill that is better than our top snipers!' yeah… this was defiantly a bad idea.

"That's what you say? You expect me to just trust your word?" Clint growled, he couldn't just trust this guy, he had shot him the other day, last person he had trusted had betrayed him. Trust didn't come easy to him, you had to earn it, not ask for it.

"No I don't. But how can we show you if you won't accept our offer? Do you want to go to an extremely early grave?" Coulson sighed, couldn't this kid see it? He could use his skills for good!

"No. But I…" Clint trailed off sighing heavily.

"But what?"

"But I… what if I fail."

"How do you know you will fail if you don't even try? If you don't try then you have already failed."

Clint groaned, how was he seriously considering this? And could this Coulson dude have more split personalities?!

"Fine. What do I have to sign?"

A/N – ANNDD THERE IS CHAPTER 5! Aww isn't Clint a good boy for signing up? And what is with Coulson? One minute he is die Hawkeye! The next he's all we can help! Hmmm… ;)

AGAIN IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT! CHAPTHER 6 SHOULD BE SOON I HOPE!.

~LostHawk