December, 1998

Two months had gone by since SHIELD had raided a base in Vegas that was known only as 'The Facility'. Two months since they'd taken down all the numbers there, gathered what information they could, and rescued multiple civilians. Two months since they had found the mysterious Erinyes suddenly in their care.

In those two months Clint Barton found himself becoming more and more fascinated, and in some ways more confused, by the newest addition to SHIELD.

He'd been unsure when they first got the kid if Erinyes would even want to join up with them. Fury had showed him the files the place had on Erinyes. There was so much missing, of course. So many things that a place like that wouldn't put in there for anyone to find. But what they did show? It hadn't exactly been promising.

Name: Erinyes

DOB: 10/09/1982

Status: Mutant/Enhanced Genetics

Abilities: Dual psionics - telepathy and empathy.

Under that had been a list of skills that they'd apparently been training this kid for since, well, it looked like he'd been trained almost since freaking birth. Weapons, hand to hand, and plenty of other kinds of combat. The list was pretty impressive if it was all true. Then had come the list of missions. In code, of course. There were a lot of things in there that Clint had no idea what they meant. SHIELD would take the time to try and decipher some of it, get it figured out. But the kill list needed no explanation. Clint had shivered a little at seeing a kill list for a fifteen year old, let alone one of that size.

A kid like that? Working with them? Sure, SHIELD took in all sorts of people-he was an example of that! But this kid? Clint had been pretty sure they didn't stand a chance even getting him to agree to talk to them. No doubt he'd been brainwashed by the people that held him. What was the point in trying to talk to some loyal brainwashed assassin? That was just asking to get killed.

So of course he'd volunteered to go in and talk to him.

And that, for Clint, had been that. Because he hadn't found the killer he'd expected when he went in there. Oh, sure, Erinyes had been hard and cold, with the kind of eyes that could give a person nightmares they were so damn cold; but he'd seen something else. A flash of something in the back of his eyes. And he'd seen what had happened when Erinyes lost control of his powers and the lust had filled the room. There's been a brief instant where walls had fallen away and Clint had been able to see the complete and utter terror that had flashed in those eyes before Erinyes was lost under a sea of people.

Their visits afterwards had only furthered Clint's belief that there was something more to him than what the others had made him. He'd also been the one to push to get Erinyes a little free time. The free time that had ended with Erinyes agreeing to become a part of SHIELD. The way he'd—she'd—looked in that moment, the utter defeat in her eyes, had tugged at Clint's heart. He recognized someone who had their back up against the wall and knew there was no other way out.

That had been months ago. Now, things were quite a bit different, and yet in a lot of ways they were the same.

Once sure that his mother was secure and as safe as could be, Erinyes had signed the paperwork to become an official part of SHIELD. "Technically," Clint had explained to him later, while they were eating dinner. "You're a freelance agent, sort of. It helps you bypass the stupid training out at the Academy, which is a boring shit hole of stuff no one wants to deal with. But they don't trust you enough to bring you to full agent status yet. So, you're kind of like… on probation. You'll get a handler who will, y'know, hold your hand and all that. Keep you out of trouble. Test you. Make sure you're loyal."

They'd picked one of their agents with the best mental shields to be his handler. Jason Gideon, a senior agent that had been with them for a while and who also worked for them at the FBI. He caught killers or something like that. Clint didn't know. He knew the guy was nice, though, and he seemed to like Erinyes all right.

In the time it took Erinyes to be given a room at their Los Angeles facility, and to settle in with his new handler, Clint had gone on a mission of his own. He didn't question himself when he came back and immediately sought out the kid. So what if he had a bit of a soft spot for the scrawny, scruffy little sprout? Sue him. The kid desperately needed a friend and Clint doubted lots of people here were willing to make friends with someone who was not only young, but who carried the stigma of 'path' to their resume.

Plus, once word had gotten around about the kid's other power, some people hadn't seemed quite sure what to label him as. Him? Her? It? For himself, Clint had just stuck with using the pronouns that matched the body. It seemed simple enough. It wasn't like Erinyes switched around to a bunch of different people. Just, one male verison and one female version. Sure, it was weird. There were even enough subtle differences that if someone put the two pictures side by side, they'd look more like siblings than anything else-all except for the eyes. But once you reminded yourself a few times that it was still the same person, it got easier to deal with.

After asking around a bit, Clint wasn't all that surprised when his inquiries had him directed down towards the housing area. Clint had his own place here in LA that he liked to stay in. He much preferred having his own place and at least a semblance of privacy. There were some, though, that liked to stay at base.

The kid wouldn't really get a choice. He wasn't legally old enough to be out on his own. He was… damn. Sixteen now. His birthday would've been right after they'd grabbed him. How the hell hadn't Clint thought of that already? He'd have to pick him up something.

A knock on the door at what he'd been told were Erinyes' rooms, followed by a brief pause, was answered with a low, "Come in."

Interesting. He'd figured he'd be greeted at the door with a weapon of some kind. Erinyes seemed the slightly trigger happy type. Edgy.

Clint pushed open the door and poked his head in first, not even bothering to reach for his own weapon just in case, because he had absolutely no self-preservation skills. At least, that was what Phil said. What he found when he looked in had him grinning. Erinyes was curled up in a chair with his heels on the seat and his thighs acting as a table for a pretty big looking book. One finger was marking his spot and those flat brown eyes lifted to Clint, one eyebrow arching in a silent 'What?'

The coolness of the reception didn't bother Clint at all. He just grinned and pushed his way on in. "Hey there, sprout. I just got back and thought I'd come check on our newest resident. How're you liking SHIELD so far?"

"It's amazing." Erinyes deadpanned.

A snicker slid from Clint. After shutting the door, he didn't hesitate to hook a chair with his foot and turn it towards the kid before dropping himself down into it. One stretch and a happy groan later and he was a hell of a lot more comfortable. "Don't sound too excited. I know it's not the most thrilling of places, but it's not that bad all around. Couple years and you'll be old enough to get your own place outside the base. Then you can really have some fun."

The disbelieving snort from the kid had Clint tilting his head to study him. Erinyes must've caught the look because he met Clint's stare with his own challenging one, as if daring the man to argue with the words that came out of his mouth. "You're far less intelligent than I believed if you actually think I'll get that option."

That cynical, bitter tone seemed so wrong coming from someone so young. Especially someone who looked a few years younger than he really was. That was the voice of an adult. One who had seen and done far too much in their life. It was echoed in his eyes. Anyone who heard him or looked at just those eyes would think him an old man, gone through war and back again. Not a child. Clint tried to keep his own roughness out of his voice as he asked "What're you talking about?"

"I signed myself over to SHIELD, Agent. Do you honestly think they're going to let go of me in any way, shape, or form?" His lips curled up into a sheer that was full of anger and mockery. "You've won. There's no need to continue to play dumb. You have your leverage. Quit coming to me acting like you guys are some sort of savior. I'm not saved. I've simply traded one set of masters for another."

Holy shit. Clint's eyebrows shot up. He knew he was gaping at the kid, he just couldn't quite help himself. Was that… was that what Erinyes really believed? Why not? Clint's mind taunted. What exactly have we done to prove it wrong? We took him from them, locked him in one room, locked him in another, and then refused to let him out unless he agreed to work for us. We've even got his Mom on what he probably sees as lockdown. When he looked at it from the other side it wasn't hard to see why Spencer felt the way he did.

The worst part was, it wasn't entirely wrong. Especially with Spencer being underage. For now they pretty much owned the kid. Until he was eighteen he was going to be forced to do some things that he might not otherwise want to simply because he wasn't old enough to do it on his own or to legally make the decisions.

It was on the tip of Clint's tongue to start rambling out some sort of reassurance. With a lot of effort he managed to hold his tongue. Words weren't going to work here. There was no telling how many times people had made promises to him and bailed on them in the end. This was going to take actions and a whole lot of work. It was going to be like a long con, with a whole lot of groundwork and effort needing to be put in. Clint had never been fond of those, honestly. He liked the upfront part of going out, finding the target, and doing what needed to be done. But, he was one of SHIELD's best snipers, and being a sniper meant having a whole lot of patience when needed. This was important enough for him to use that.

With all that in mind, Clint put on his best smile, completely ignoring what the kid had just told him, and announced "I'm hungry."

Erinyes startled a little. It was just a brief twitch of the eyebrow, a slight narrowing of his eyes, but on him that was equal to open surprise from someone else. "Um… congratulations?"

Clint laughed, pushing himself up off his chair. Then he strolled right over to Erinyes and snatched the book from his lap, closing it and tossing it carelessly on the nearby tabletop. He saw Erinyes flinch a little at that and just grinned even more. "C'mon, squirt." He held a hand out in the kid's direction and wiggled his fingers. "Let's go get something to eat. You should probably get dressed, though. SHIELD casual doesn't exactly go well out in public."

"I usually eat here." Erinyes said. He eyed Clint's hand like he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Rolling his eyes, Clint drawled out "Bor-ring!" Then he wiggled his fingers again. "Come on! There's this awesome place like, ten minutes from here, and they've got the messiest burgers you've ever had, and I swear their milkshakes are like heaven in a cup. Everyone has to experience it at least once!"

Very slowly, and very hesitantly, Erinyes pulled his hand up and placed it in Clint's. He let himself he tugged to his feet and then drew his hand back quickly, like he wasn't quite comfortable with being touched. Clint made a mental note of that, added it to the list of things to work on, and then glossed right past it. "Awesome!" He clapped his hands together and looked Erinyes over. "Okay, you go get dressed and I'll wait right outside."

It only took five minutes before Erinyes joined him outside the room. When the door opened, Clint looked up only to be surprised when he saw Erinyes come out not as a male, but in female form. She was dressed in regular looking black pants, what looked to be a plain grey SHIELD shirt, and the same red jacket that was two sizes too big for her that she'd grabbed when trying to escape him through that kitchen at the pizza place. Her hair was a lot lighter like this, and it looked a bit longer even though she'd pulled it up into a messy sort of bun on the back of her head.

For just one brief second Clint was able to restrain the questions pushing around in his head. Then he couldn't help himself. He decided, screw it, and blurted them out. "How do you pick which part of you you're going to be? Do you just like, wake up and decide, hey, I wanna be a dude today? Or is it just, a certain form around certain people?" Even as he rambled, he couldn't help but cringe. So much for relaxing and setting her at ease. Way to go, Barton. Real smooth there. Foot, meet mouth. Again.

He didn't get a chance to even try and retract his questions or word them better. Erinyes gave him a curious look and answered in a slow voice. "It's… situational."

That cut him off. Huh. Made sense. He wondered what situations required being one or the other. Were there certain criteria that had to be met before a decision could be made? He kept those thoughts to himself, though. Later would be time enough to ask. "All right. Come on, 'Yes. Burger heaven awaits us!"

Erinyes blinked in surprise at him and stared for a moment, lips moving almost soundlessly. It took just a second for her to find her words. When he did, all he said was "Yes?"

What? What was she talking about? "Huh? Oh!" Realization hit. She wasn't agreeing with Clint, she was commenting on the nickname. "Right. Well, I can't keep walking around calling you Erinyes. We're not on a mission, an it's a bit of a mouthful anyways. So, 'Yes. I figured it was better than 'kid' or 'hey you' or anything like that."

When Erinyes said nothing more on it, just continued to look at him like he was strange-a look Clint was rather used to, honestly, everyone looked at him like that-Clint mentally shrugged and began to steer the kid outside, chatting the whole way about the last time he'd been to this place and how funny it had been to try and get Phil to at least try and pick up the burger and not resort to eating it with a knife and fork.

Erinyes walked quietly beside him the whole way, watching the world around her in a way that made it clear she was keeping an eye open for threats. But she didn't talk. Not beyond the polite 'yes' or 'no' or 'hm' that people gave in conversations. Yet something told Clint she probably would've been able to recite back everything he said to her.

It wasn't until they were at the restaurant and were seated with their burgers that she finally spoke to him beyond that. They were tucked into a booth in the back of the crappy looking place, their food on trays in front of them smelling delicious, and Clint had just reached to pick his own burger up when he heard Erinyes softly say "Spencer."

"Huh?" Clint looked up, hands frozen over his burger.

He found Erinyes looking down at her own burger, both her hands on it and wearing a look far more serious than fast food inspired. She didn't look up to meet his eyes, but she repeated herself. "Spencer." She paused, licking her lips, and then added "My name's Spencer."

Clint couldn't help the huge grin that lit up his face. "Nice to meet you, Spencer."

She smiled faintly, flicking her eyes up to his for a moment and then back down again, and Clint counted it as a win. Operation, get Erinyes to trust him was off to a hell of a start.