A/N – Got this up faster than I thought I would… bit of a filler chapter kind of but this now takes place as the longest one so far. And thanks all of you for you reviews!

Later on that day, Clint was escorted to the Directors office. It was rather annoying having Coulson holding the hand cuffs they insisted he had on, in reality he didn't have a choice so it was more forced on… and 2 armed guards, seriously, did they expect him to kick there arses and kill everybody on his fight to get out? He may be good but he wasn't onto taking out a whole organisation which he assumed all had a gun at least on their person. Especially since he had a messed up ankle (no thanks to Coulson…)

Being lead to the Director's office in hand cuffs and with guards was not discreet…. Apparently you had to go through most of the busy hallways and through 2 lifts before you got to his office, all in all it took from his 'medi-cell' as he dubbed it 15 minutes to get to his destination, being stared at everywhere he went like a wild animal, waiting for the moment to strike.

When he entered the Office, it was kind of what he expected, Big, a large desk in the middle with a computer and monitor on the desk, a pot filled with pens pencils and other stationary, various files scattered atop the desk all bearing the same logo in the top right hand corner. There were no personal pictures on the walls, just some certificates framed all of which meant nothing to Clint. The floor was a deep brown wood, the walls were just simple and plain black. There were also 2 chairs in front of the desk as well as the office style black leather chair behind the desk. Various filing cabinets were scattered about the room as well as a coat hanger in one corner that had a big black trench coat hanging from it yet the man was already wearing a coat…

The man himself was Tall, bulky, looked to be African American and from his sharp 'enter' from earlier expected to be obeyed first time, too bad for him Clint didn't do authority. He had Black combat trousers on with a black t-shirt that was covered by a trench coat, Clint could tell he had several weapons on his body, He could see that there were at least 2 guns, 3 knifes, and a silencer for a gun in various sheaths and pockets scattered on his person. Yet the man's most distinguishing feature was the eye patch he wore on his left eye, that immediately made him curious as to how the man had acquired that. Stabbed? No that could have gone through to his brain killing him. Defiantly not a bullet, that would have gone straight through into brain rendering him dead instantly. Maybe he was tortured and in an attempt to get him to give out information had tried to remove his eyes? And succeeded on one of them? If that was the case then the man deserved his position.

Clint was snapped out of his trance when Coulson slapped him on the arm and told him to "Focus!"

"As I was saying Barton. Before you slipped into a trance staring at my eye patch, which no you will not get to learn the story about. Ever. SHIELD is a highly covert specialist government facility, helping to rid the world of people like you. Those that think they can just kill a lot of people for money because they felt like it." Fury dead panned clearly not impressed with him. Honestly if this kid was going to be a good asset he needed to focus, he was far more useful alive than on the other side of a bullet, despite everyone's doubt…

Clint shot Fury with one of his various death glares, of course it didn't intimidated Fury in the slightest.

"Well it's just so big and black that I can't help but stare at it. So what was it? Torture? Accident? Knife? Or did you just feel that becoming a pirate was a way more entertaining way to life? The sea's that way captain." Clint replied sarcastically, you didn't insult him and not get some of his famous sarcasm and highly annoying jokes back. It just didn't work that way. Fury slid a folder across the table with various forms on top of it, all bearing the lovely logo of the strategic homeland intervention enforcement and logistics division in the top right hand corner. There were various blank boxes Including 'Age' 'birth town' 'education' 'family' 'full date of birth' and 'next of kin'.

"You will go with Agent Coulson to his office, and allow him to fill that out for you by telling him all of the answers he needs. The real ones. And sign it with your signature or name. Whichever you please. Dismissed"

Clint stood up to lead and was 'escorted' (more like marched and paraded) to Coulson's office, it was similar to Fury's, just it was smaller and had a sofa on one side and a plant on the other. And the bin was over filling with bit of paper and the shredder didn't seem to be fairing to well either.

"Sit." Coulson gestured to a chair in front of the desk, Clint walked over and sat a perfect example of a poker face etched upon his face. It wasn't comfy to sit with your hands behind you back cuffed together but he had been in far more un-comfy positions.

"I expect you to answer these truthfully" Coulson directed to which Clint just nodded.

"What is your real age, not the one on your various fake ID's."

"17." Clint replied sighing internally, the pure shock that appeared on Coulson's face for all of a second was worth it though.

"Your REAL age." Coulson growled, this kid was already testing his patience.

"That is my real age. I was born 28th March 1983." Clint said, his tone low and bordering dangerous. So now this Coulson dude, didn't believe his age.

"Your 17. And killed over 90 people." Coulson said, baffled as to how a 17 year old got into that path of life.

"You say that like your surprised Coulson."

"That's Agent Coulson to you."

"Yeah ok AC. Next question." Clint said, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic, it was not one he particularly liked talking about.

Sighing Coulson accepted the fact the kid wasn't going to talk about that topic, but 17 and already killing people and from what they had heard Hawkeye had been going for at least a year possibly more and that 90 was only ones that the police and SHIELD knew about, there could have been more that were not contracts or contracts that were hidden extremely well.

"Your Birth town?"

"Waverly, Iowa." Clint said, the location rolling off his tongue despite the bad memories he had from there, and he had the scars to prove it.

"Education?"

"Went to Elementary for a bit, but stopped going to school all together when I was 7." Clint sighed, like he was ashamed of the fact he had no education, it wasn't his fault he couldn't go to school, he wasn't exactly the one to make friends, especially with his problem with being in crowded areas, and once his parents had died, he didn't go to school much instead when all the other kids in orphanage went to school, he took a different route and hid for the day, trying to get out of his head.

"Ok." Coulson said, he was genuinely starting to feel sorry a bit for this kid, you can't feel sorry for him Coulson! He is a killer! He killed people in cold blood! Yet, was it his fault that this had happened to him? Something he was sure he had to find out.

"Family and next of Kin"

At that, Clint expression grew dark and dangerous, "I had a brother. Barney Barton." Clint said the name with so much venom Coulson was sure that he didn't want to know what had happened but at same time wanted to know. "And my parents were Harold and Edith Barton." Again the words were spoken with Venom but not as much as he had said his Brothers name with.

"Your next of kin?" Coulson queried steering away from the topic of family as the kid obviously didn't want to talk about it.

"What?" Clint said, Confusion taking over his face before it was firmly shut away and hidden behind a blank mask.

"The person you want all your things to go to when you die." Coulson explained to him.

"No one."

"Okay then." Coulson sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand and writing 'N/A' in the appropriate box.

After doubled checking the boxes and Coulson signing the box that was if someone else had filled it out he span the paper around and put a pen on it for Clint to sign in the box.

"Um" Clint shook his hands making the cuffs make a rattling sound "Can't really do that with my hands tied."

"Right." Coulson unlocked one of his hands, to allow him to sign the form, As Clint signed the paper, Coulson realized that the pen didn't seem to look natural in his hand, almost as if it was a foreign object and he took far longer that needed to sign his name, Coulson just put it down to him writing with the wrong hand an being an annoying arse.

After that was done with, Coulson slipped the forms back in the folder that had a single photo from a security camera in it that was a few months old of a person they believed to be Hawkeye but weren't sure because the person had a hood on, but they assumed it was him since he was carrying an arrow and someone had died later that night by an arrow to the heart rumor had it that it was Hawkeye's kill.

Clint saw that picture and internally growled, he remembered that kill, up close and messy. He couldn't get a clear shot from the roof so had to get up close, the girl it was on was one Saskia Dubrovsky, her dad had failed to complete a deal and the people the deal was with were not happy that it had failed to be completed so sent out a message to not mess with them.

Coulson shut the file and put it on top of his keyboard, then turned to Clint and put the other handcuff on him again but in front of him this time not behind his back.

When they left Coulson's office the armed guards were gone (hallelujah) Coulson still had a grip on him but it was this time on his back and was just a hand on his back to guide him in the right direction, Clint still didn't like it as he didn't like people touching him but he had tried to shake him off and Coulson had firmly just pushed him forward keeping the hand there.

Clint realised a few minutes later that they were not heading back to his medi cell but instead were heading to what looked to be the living quarters.

"Urm where exactly are we?" Clint questioned, to which he got no answer except for Coulson gripping his shirt and pulling him back and turning him toward a door on the right, He scanned his palm and his ID card and the light flashed green, Opening the door with various Clicks of various locks...

"This. Is your room, you are not allowed to go out of it un-escorted, and you are only to be escorted by either me or director fury. There are cameras in all parts of the room so don't try to sneak out as you will be caught, and in which instance you will be relocated to out prison cells which are even worse looking than this room. Consider it a novelty that the bath room is separate from the rest of the room." Coulson explained gesturing to various parts of the room as he spoke.

"Homey…." Clint dead panned, the room was bleak. The walls were grey, the carpet. Grey. The bed. Grey metal with grey sheets, the doors, metal. Which was grey. There was a little desk and chair, which surprisingly, were grey. On top of the desk was a tray with a paper plate on it that had some rice on it with something that he thought was Chicken cut up into pieces on top. There was also some water in a cup and a plastic spoon to eat his food with (really… what was he going to do? Go on a killing massacre with a plastic fork or knife?)

"I'll be here tomorrow morning at 8am to take you to medical." Coulson said, turning around to leave.

"I have already been to medical."

"You went there for an injury this is for psych and a general check-up." Coulson replied walking out the door and shutting it behind him, all the locks clicking into place. Seriously wasn't 4 heavy duty high tech locks a bit over kill….

"Fucking arse holes." Clint swore before walking over to the desk to pick the food up. He may not have trusted this place but he was bloody hungry and even that crap looked edible.

A/N – Told you chapters would get longer J going to try keep them this length as a minimum from now on and thanks all of you guys for reviewing, your favorites and following etc means a lot to me! :D

UNTIL NEXT TIME!

Oh and review's make me smile ;) and a happy me means more updates :D

~LostHawk