Hello again. I already had this writen, so I could not detain myself from posting it. Disclaimer: I dont own anything. Hope yoh enjoy it!
Clint jumped from the roof of the building and rolled unto the one next to it. He already had three bullets in him, as well as a bruised ribcage. This kind of job will earn a person many enemies, and someone decided to eradicate him before he did them. As he landed, the pain shot through his body in the likeness of a lighting bolt when it strikes, numbing his abdomen and rendering him motionless for a few seconds. One of the masked men landed behind him and kicked him on the back, sending yet another flash of pain. He recovered quickly, though not fully, and managed to land his arrow between his prosecutor's eyebrows. One more down, two to go. He continued to run through the roofs of buildings, trying to gain some distance, and landed in an alley, where he met the eyes of another masked individual. His grip on the bow tightened with each painful breath, until he managed enough momentum to raise it against his opponent, but before either he or the man could take a shot, the latter fell to the ground with a bullet wound on his back, revealing, behind him, another man, wearing a neatly pressed suit, ruffled only by the current circumstances.
The Hawkeye tried to focus his eyesight, as blots of black clouded his vision and every light in the city seemed to blur and grow into a miniature Sun. He raised his bow again and pointed towards the general direction of the suited man. The other slowly walked towards him and pulled the weapon from his already shaking hands.
For the first time in many years, Clint allowed himself to feel fear. He had lost all control over the situation and was exhausted from the pain and the adrenaline. He had been attacked in an alley by a band of ten trained individuals. The Hawkeye had given them a good fight, but after putting arrows in six of them, and punching down two more, he had received his fair share of injuries. Now he was powerless, standing before a man with a gun. The blood loss was causing him to feel dizzy, and he heard voices in the back of his mind, calling to him, calling to Hawkeye, yet he could not device what they said. Then it all turned dark.
...
He woke up to the sound of a mechanical beeping, and the shine of a blinding light that penetrated through his eyes.
"Ah! Good morning Mr. Barton."
The awareness of someone else's presence made his instincts fire, and he immediately attempted to stand up, only to find that his arms and legs were bound to the bed.
"No no no. Calm down! You wont be able to get out of those anyway. They are SHIELD technology."
"Who are you? What the hell is SHIE-"
"Barton! I'm glad your awake." The suited man walked into Clint's line of sight with an appearance of nonchalance "my superior was getting impatient. My name is Phil Coulson. I am an agent of SHIELD, and this here.." he pointed towards the other habitant of the room " is Doctor Nieva, he has been helping you heal. Are you feeling alright?"
"What the hell is SHIELD?"
"A secret intelligence organization that handles... superior threats"
"Am I your prisoner?"
"Depends.."
"On?" He barked, admittedly annoyed at the ease with which the suited man- Coulson- spoke.
"On whether you accept a certain proposition" the faint shadow of a smile graced Coulson's features "but there will be time for that later. The Doctor here needs to examine you."
Doctor Nieva, hearing his cue, approached Barton with a thermometer.
"If you take one more step you will regret it."
"Careful now. He saved your life." Said Coulson, with the same sly smile.
"You know, I remember you. You were one of the men trying to kill me, some time ago, I walked away from you. I should have killed you when I had the chance, not to say that that can't still hap-"
"And I could have killed you, when I found you injured in an alley, but you are at a medical facility instead. SHIELD's medical facility. I would say, you were rather lucky to not have shot me six months ago."
With that, the doctor began to approach again, and Clint did not attempt to scare him away, though he scowled at the man through the entire procedure. Coulson's smile did not seem to abandon his face.
"What is your proposition? You want me to kill someone?"
"I wouldn't ask an injured man to kill someone."
"I'm not injured"
Coulson raised a brow.
"Besides, I don't need your help to kill someone. I could, however, help you."
"Help me?" Asked Barton with a scoff.
"I could offer you a job. I have a feeling you don't quite enjoy your current one"
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, I might be wrong, but, considering the fact that you spared me, I don't take you for the sort of man who would enjoy killing the innocent" and he started walking towards the door. "Just, think about it."
"How do you my name?"
Agent Coulson gave him another one of those smiles, that were slowly beginning to irritate him.
"Digital prints. Welcome to SHIELD" and he walked out.
...…...
After the doctor was done examining him, Clint was left alone in the clinic, under the instructions of getting some rest. That, however, was impossible. His mind twisted with a mixture of suspicion and unspoken hope. He had been given the opportunity of walking away from the bloody live that he had led the past two years. He could join SHIELD; join the good guys; make a life for himself. But, then again, it could all be just another lie, just another trick of life. Would it be worth it to accept? As these questions surged through his mind, Barton fell into a light sleep, and, some hours later, Agent Coulson walked in. Clint blinked the sleep out of his eyes.
"Feeling better?"
"Can you untie me?"
"Sorry. Safety precautions." Said Coulson, not sounding very sorry.
"Have you thought about my work offer?"
"I could have killed you that time on the roof."
"I am aware, and you seem to enjoy reminding me"
"I didn't then, so I wont now."
"Your point is?"
"You should untie me"
"I thought you were having second thoughts about killing me"
"I wont kill you"
"Have you thought about my work offer?"
Clint sighed "yes"
"And?"
"Why do you want me to work for you?
You already caught me, you could just throw me in prison"
"You could have killed me that time on the roof"
"You could have killed me in the alley, debt payed."
Coulson's face lit up with another half smile. "I think you would make a good asset. Besides, you would escape from prison, and, though I could kill you, you are worth more alive than dead."
Clint smirked.
"So, what is your answer? Do you want to work for the good guys?"
Please Please tell me what you think about the story!
Also, sorry for any mistakes, and feel free to correct me.