Clint sat hunched over one of the briefing room tables, reports, witness statements and pictures were all spread across the large desk. He stared intently at each picture, meticulously studying every detail in the reports for the past five hours and now his head was starting to hurt. He took a sip of coffee and leaned back in the chair, the archer didn't like to admit it, but this guy was good. This new assassin was an expert at staying hidden and also cleaning up after himself. There was never a trace of evidence to his true identity, only a message written in blood on the wall of the abandoned house where they found the second agent, revealing his chosen moniker, Reaper. Below his name was his calling card, a symbol translating to 'death'.

The archer leaned forward and picked up the picture of the second agent, something had happened during that one, some reason that he wanted to give them his name. The Reaper was taunting them, setting the stage for an elaborate game of cat and mouse, giving them little clues to nibble on in the hopes that SHIELD would make the game more interesting. The guy was a psychopath.

Clint scanned the picture and gave a frustrated huff when he didn't see anything that would help and threw the photo back onto the table. Phil stormed into the room and the younger agent raised an eyebrow as two files were thrown towards him. The older agent bent over, then without warning slammed his fist down on the table, making the archer jump.

The room was deathly silent and all Barton could hear was Phil's harsh breathing, the man was visibly shaking with rage.

"Phil?" Clint spoke cautiously, "what is it?"

The handler closed his eyes and took three deep breaths before turning to his young charge. "Open them." He pointed to the files.

Clint did as he was asked and looked at the first file, he felt physically sick, which took a lot with the young assassin. It was another victim; that made four.

"Four agents?" He asked, frowning when Phil shook his head and pointed to the second file. "No, four agents and one civilian. A woman this time, he is changing his type, and Fury thinks he might have some older crimes, similar to this one. It could be the same guy, if it is, he has been doing this for years." Coulson gripped the back of the chair he was leaning against and forced himself to calm down. The Reaper was one of the most sadistic, evil, psychopaths that he'd ever been charged with taking down.

The archer felt a familiar anger bubbling up to the surface. "I need to do something Phil; I need to do something now! This guy is a maniac and isn't going to stop until I put an arrow through his heart. I want to check out the crime scene, see if I can spot anything the others might have missed."

Barton stood abruptly knocking the chair over and was ready to walk out the door when Phil stopped him. "Not yet, Clint." His tone was final and Clint was already shaking his head. "I need to do this Phil."

Phil didn't know why the kid wouldn't listen to him, there was still too many unknowns and he wasn't about to let the young archer walk out and get himself killed. From his point of view the Reaper was just as deadly if not more so than Clint, so the handler knew when he spoke his next words the younger agent wasn't going to be happy.

"I'm ordering you to stay put until we find more on this guy." Coulson saw a flash behind the archer's eyes and watched him take a step toward him. Phil didn't back down, he was just as pissed with this situation if not more so. The older agent forced himself not to buckle under the heat of Clint's glare; he'd never seen the kid look as deadly as he did in that moment when he wasn't facing down a target.

"You're ordering me?" Clint growled quietly, taking another step forward. On some level the young agent knew that Coulson was simply looking out for him, but he hated being told what to do. Phil was never forceful with him when it came to orders and always gave him a chance to argue his point if he didn't agree with the decision. The last time Clint was ordered to do something it had ended in tragedy; a shop keeper was shot and he was thrown in prison. Not one of his best memories.

Phil raised his hands to the archer's shoulders intending to stop his advance, but Clint knocked the hands away and pushed Phil back a step. The older agent glared at his charge. "Yes, that's an order, now are you going to follow it or do I have to make you?" The handler realised just a second too late that he might have pushed a little too far. Clint swiped the older agent's legs out from under him and was straddling his chest with his forearm across Phil's throat.

Coulson didn't show any hint of fear but he was worried by the darkness in the kid's eyes, he hadn't seen that in a while now. "Clint?" He managed to croak out.

The archer stared down at Phil for a long moment then seemed to snap out of it, his eyes widened and he was off of Phil and out of the door in the next second. Coulson lay still, not sure what the hell had just happened but he knew he had to find the kid, before he did something stupid.

Fury turned and watched as Coulson entered the main command centre of the base, heading straight for one of the unmanned computers. The agent started typing furiously, hitting the keys with more force than was necessary, the rapid clicking echoing off the cold white walls.

Nick stood to his full height and walked over to stand behind Phil. "What is it?"

The director was shocked when Phil didn't answer right away. The younger agent ran a hand through his thinning hair and turned to face him. Fury thought pissed, worried and desperate were all cracking through Phil's usual calm and stoic features. "Clint took off, he left the base."

Fury's eyes widened. "What do you mean took off?" The director was concerned, usually Phil could calm the young agent down and get him to see sense before he did something reckless. Coulson looked ready to hit something and Nick knew this thing with the Reaper was taking its toll on a lot of people within the organisation. Fury was starting to worry about his agent as he was usually the one to let nothing faze him, took it all in stride. But this case was eating at everyone and tempers were flaring, and it seemed to be the same with Coulson and Barton.

"He's left the base, probably to go to the latest crime scene. He wants to catch this guy so bad Director, but I'm worried he isn't thinking everything through and this assassin isn't an amateur. Clint just won't listen to me, we got in an argument and he left." Phil covered his face with his hands and blew out a breath. Nick placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"He will be fine Phil. If you want I will send a couple of agents to the crime scene to look for him?" Fury offered.

Phil nodded, he wanted nothing more than to go after his agent but he also knew it was best to let him cool off. They hadn't had many fights in their partnership but when they did it was better for both of them to stay out of each other's way for a few hours at least. Clint would come back, and hopefully he would have found something to help them catch the Reaper.

Phil just hoped he didn't get himself killed in the process, who was he kidding, the kid could find trouble on his best day.