Chapter 15 I've Been a Foul and I've been Blind

Clint was so engrossed in the papers in front of him that he startled slightly as Brody sat down across from him. The sounds and commotion of the cafeteria had faded into the background leaving the archer lost in his stack of forms and reports. Normally such a lapse in awareness would have bothered him, but there was an air of safety in the common space that for the first time in a long time, Clint felt he could allow such a lapse. It wasn't anything like the other SHIELD bases he had been stationed at. The Captain had been considerate enough to drop his food tray with a little more force than necessary to make his presence known.

"Well, look who's up and about in the land of the living," greeted Brody while rearranging the cutlery and various dishes on his tray. "Good thing, cause I heard you made a hell of a mess in the back of Crewe's jet. Those things are his babies."

Clint glanced up just as one of the nice clerks from administration stepped up to the table, arms cradling a file marked urgent. "Director Fury requested you be in his office ASAP Agent Brody," she dutifully reported, handing over the file in exchange for a signature and a thumbprint on her tablet while giving Barton and apologetic smile.

"Thank you," dismissed Brody, giving the contents of the file a cursory glance before tucking it under his lunch tray.

Clint waited until the clerk was out of hearing range before biting out, "So it's agent now Captain Brody?"

Brody offered a childish grin, digging into his pile of mashed potatoes. "It's always been agent," he offered casually as though everyone in the world knew it except Clint who was too slow to keep up, almost like it wasn't a betrayal. "I clean up good in a suit. Lesson two Barton, the more hats you wear, the more useful you are to the agency, so I suggest finding a whole lot of skills and niches you're good at." Rylan pointed his fork at Clint to emphasize his point. "Useful things are kept around long term, so be the soldier that never misses, be the steady hand that can do whatever's asked of it. Pay attention to everything, because being a good spy means collecting secrets on both sides."

The archer knew it was sound advice. Hell, most of it applied to every aspect of his survival thus far, it just hadn't been put in those exact terms. The prospect of being more than just a blunt instrument to be used and discarded at will was appealing. Sure, he was still just a weapon when you boiled it down, but somehow it seemed like he could be more here, be of value.

"Ah, Crewe," Brody choked out around a mouthful of food before waving the other man towards their table.

Crewe's hands tightened on the edge of his tray for a moment before he relented, rolling his eyes and coming to sit next to Barton.

"Sit here," offered Rylan, getting up. "I have a date with our commander in chief."

Crewe waited until Brody cleared his stuff before slipping into his spot without a word.

"You kids have fun." Brody patted Crewe's shoulder as he left and Clint didn't miss the hard set of Damian's jaw or the sudden tension in his body at the touch. More surprising to the other man's reaction to Brody was the all too familiar way the other agents in the cafeteria gave assessing glances and hushed whispers in Crewe's direction. To Damian's credit, it didn't seem to bother him.

"They have you doing paper work already?" asked Crewe, nodding towards Clint's stack of papers.

"Forms mostly. Being transferred to Seattle for my next posting." Clint wasn't sure how he felt about the change yet. He'd spent the first year after being discharged from the hospital being bounced around between active SHIELD posts in exotic locals and now he was being shuffled off to a corner of the country that as far as he knew wasn't going to be a hot bed of activity requiring his skill set. The administrations clerk had let something slip about training and studies when she handed him the forms for Seattle. From what Clint remembered of school, hewasn't quite cut out for it and had been relieved when he was put into service less than a week after setting foot at SHIELD's actual academy. It wasn't long, but long enough to know he didn't fit in with his peers.

"You'll spend more time traipsing through the Canadian wilderness than actually sitting in class. They use Seattle because it's a hop, skip and a jump into British Columbia and just about every kind of environment one would need to train in."

"Sounds thrilling," muttered Clint.

"I enjoy it." The silence was companionable as Crewe picked at his lunch and Clint filled out the multitude of redundant forms that had been dumped on him. Clearly Fury had many ways of making people suffer. Without looking up from his plate, Damian broke the silence. "So where'd you get the report about the base? I know you don't have security clearance for it despite having lived through it."

Barton glanced over to his pile; most people would have missed the small amount of print peeking out from under his stack of forms, let alone be able to attach a word to the few letter that weren't hidden under the pages on top. His curiosity had gotten the better of him when he walked into administration that morning. It hadn't even been hard to convince the clerk to turn over a copy, given the information he already had. But has his carelessness exposed him in front of an enemy or an ally?

Sheepishly, Clint muttered, "I may have conned someone into giving it to me."

Crewe shook his head. "Seems like a lot of work for something I'm sure Coulson would have given you if you just asked. But I guess it's good to stay in practice. Find anything interesting?"

Clint could feel himself relax a little. "Nothing I didn't already know. But what kind of name is Koala for a spy anyway?"

Damian smiled. "It lacks intimidation, I'll grant you that but it does have a sort of poetry." Feeling pity at his companion's apparent confusion he elaborated, "Koalas appear to be cute and cuddly and how can anything that sleeps for twenty-two hours a day be dangerous? Truth is they bite and have sharp claws that can rip your face off if they want. Really it's a metaphor for duality. The spy wanted to play on the fact that they were inconspicuous and readily overlooked when in actuality they were dangerous."

Clint chewed over the words as Crewe went back to his lunch. Horn was never inconspicuous, his threat level had been apparent from the moment Barton met him. Even if they didn't have the tumultuous relationship they did, the man would have been the archer's list of suspect. Granted his list would be enormous in any case, there were a very select few Clint would actually remove from suspicion.

"Do you think the spy was actually Horn?"

Crewe seemed to give the question a fair amount of consideration. "Stands to reason, everything conveniently points to him. Only time will tell. Either the leak stops here or it will continue, it's the name of the game."

"That's not very reassuring."

"The world's not very reassuring; you just got to take it as it is. If I don't see you before you head out, enjoy Seattle." Crewe left Barton to continue drowning in his paperwork, but more importantly, he left him with his contraband file.

Fury made sure to dot every I and cross every T as he checked and signed off on the last report that had been clogging his in box for the last month. The fact that it kept Phil waiting, sitting across from him, the picture of professionalism, especially after their latest more emotional driven argument, was just the cherry on the sundae.

Coulson watched as the last report was dumped into the out bin without saying a word. It was moments like this that helped seal his legendary control and professionalism because really, nothing tested it more than the unspoken things between Nick and himself. It was always a game of who would blink first or whose deadline to be somewhere else elapsed first.

"I'm sending you to Seattle. I feel they could benefit from your skill set, not to mention I have an asset you're going to be directly responsible in handling." Nick raised his hand to forestall the coming argument. "I know you've expressed your desire to continue working in the field as an infiltration agent and at the moment I'm willing to entertain that desire with this one exception. I need this one to turn out and I think you're my best shot."

"Who is it?"

"They'll report to your office in Seattle on Wednesday. I'm not going to give you anything more than that so you can think of some excuse not to do it. You will train them and take on any assignments that you feel fit into your skill sets."

Coulson bit the inside of his cheek. He could play the friend card, get himself out of this but he'd promised himself he'd never do that. New York and LA offices lent themselves more to the ebb and flow of SHIELD activity; Seattle was considered out of the way from the current and more auctioned packed assignments. Then there was Barton, who Phil had kind of wanted to keep a closer eye on. He could keep tabs on the kid from Seattle, but being closer meant he could put out fires before they got too bad.

Reaching down to his bottom drawer, Fury punched in his security code gaining him access to the more secure contents. He pulled an ominous black folder out and tossed it towards Phil. "In the mean time, here's your next assignment," he informed with a glower.

Phil forced himself to open the folder slowly, removing all traces of excitement and trepidation that gripped him with the prospect of a black folder case. Black folder cases had a reputation of being the most difficult, most dangerous. They tested ones mettle, it took the most diligent, clever, and dedicated individuals SHIELD could produce to close those cases. It was an honor and curse to be handed a black file but Phil had closed his fair share of them and been better for it. His last one could prove to be the defining one of his career, when he tracked down the elusive Hawkeye and provided SHIELD what was going to be one of their greatest assets if Phil had any say in it.

"The Black Widow has my attention. Clean it up Phil!" ordered Fury. His words weren't spoken with anger or volumes, but the subtleness conveyed his conviction and intent.

"What about the asset I'm supposed to be supervising?" asked Coulson. This wasn't the assignment one could work at part time. It was going to acquire attention, travel, contacts and information gathering, none of which were successful if he was regulated to babysitting.

"The asset doesn't need you to hold their hand. Get Crewe to work with them when you're working on this."

"Crewe will never go for that," reminded Phil. Crewe's position required solitude, reporting directly and only to Fury himself. Coulson never had a problem working with the guy but their perspectives and methods differed greatly. Beyond a professional respect for one another and a desire to serve SHIELD, they really didn't have a lot in common that would be conducive to a positive training experience for the asset Fury was shoving at Coulson.

"I'm sorry, I must have missed the memo explaining when they put him in charge," challenged the Director. "I get that this isn't ideal for either of you, but I'm pulling the Director card. You have your orders, and believe me Phil, you're the best man for the job. You're flight leaves tonight. Good Luck."

Barton let out a long measured breath and his fist hovered just shy of actually connecting with the door. He'd spent the whole flight to Seattle reminding himself that this was his chance to prove everyone wrong, to actually make something of himself and erase the black marks that marred his past.

For the first time in his life he felt as though someone would catch him if he fell. As a kid, he spent hours watching the Mason's perform death defying feats on the trapeze and high wire. The adrenaline rush was understandable, doing it for the admiration of the crowed was relatable, but being able to let go of swing or take the first step out on the wire, knowing there was no net below always baffled Clint. Ami, the youngest daughter who was about Clint's age, had told him that that wasn't the scary part because she knew her family would catch her. Barton couldn't think of a soul that would catch him. His parents were too busy fighting their own demons and taking their loses out on him and his brother and Barney always seemed to fail to show up when it really mattered. Coulson had been the first person to catch him when he fell.

When the plane had touched down on the tarmac, Clint promised himself he wasn't going to screw this chance up. His failures as a human being were not going to cost him this chance to do good. This would be a fresh start, no excuses as to why he couldn't earn his colleagues trust and respect. Stand there in front of his future handler's door was one of the scariest things he'd done in a while. The world was full of potential, he could have a future as long as he didn't mess it up and that hope was terrifying in its enormity. Despite the shake in his hand, he rapped on the door.

"Come in."

Stamping down on his nerves, Clint opened the door and stepped inside. "Clint Barton reporting for duty," he snapped, aiming for the proper formality and stance a soldier should demonstrate.

"Have a seat."

The archer flinched at the voice. He recognized the voice. Sitting at the desk in front of him was none other than Agent Coulson. "Sir?" he asked. A million questions were packed in that one word. Did he have the wrong room? Did he misunderstand the situation? Was this a set up for some double cross Fury had planned?

Sensing his confusion Phil started, "Director Fury put me in charge of your training and future assignments. I've reviewed your file and it appears, much to your detriment, that you were pulled out of the academy after the first week for a sniper mission in which only you could perform. From there, you were shuffled around and never actually made it back to the classroom. I'm prepared to offer you a more personalized experience if you're alright with that."

Clint nodded agreeably.

"Good. When you're ready I believe I have a mission you for you."

Epilogue

Fury held his impassive gaze as he stared at the monitor. It wasn't his friend's position that irritated him or the points the man was trying to make, but the fact that those who didn't live this life everyday never understood just what needed to be done.

"I know he's your friend Nick, but Coulson needs to stay in contact when things like this happen. The council wanted to be kept apprised of the situation and I spent the day being told Coulson wasn't available to come to the phone. I seriously dislike getting my information from lackeys Nick," lectured Peirce.

Nick snorted in response. If it had been anyone else, he'd be having an unpleasant meeting with them later, but the fact that Coulson had managed to brush off the council in the least offensive or insubordinate way possible was simply amusing.

"If this report is anything to go by, I think it's high time you promoted Brody. That kid's going to be the future of this organization, Nick."

"I'll take that under advisement." Seeing Crewe lurking at his doorway, Fury added, "Now I have some actual work to do. You do remember what actual work looks like, don't you?"

Peirce parted with, "Don't be a stranger."

Waiting until the screen went back, the Director waved Crewe over. "Is that the ballistics report?"

Crewe's face was stone cold as he nodded. Without betraying his feelings regarding the contents within, he handed the report over to Fury. He summarized, "The bullet they pulled out of you didn't match Horn's nor any other gun in the Major's possession or that he would have been able to access."

"What about anything Barton could get a hold of?"

"No. In fact it doesn't match anything SHIELD had on file, either ours or recovered. This puts another shooter on that wall. It also gives credit to Horn's claim that he innocent."

"Which means there's still a traitor within SHIELD," surmised Fury.

"Are you going to release Horn than?" asked Crewe, already suspecting the answer.

Fury leaned back in his chair. "No. If we still have a problem, then releasing Horn is only going to tip off whoever it is and I'm tired of giving them the advantage. No, we'll bide our time and give them just enough rope to hang themselves with and then they're going to answer to me."

The end.

Thank you to everyone who read this story.

Thank to all the reviewers for all your interest.

Another Super BIG thanks to Midnightmoonwarrior for the amazing beta job and sticking with it through the long haul.

The chapter titles are from FLORENCE + THE MACHINE's Shake it Out.

No Rest for the Wicked. Summary: Follows Birds of a Feather Flock Together. Stark Industries revolutionized the weapons business. The Stark legacy was to keep the world safe and Tony had thought the days of his weapons being used against him were over. That mistake could end up costing him a team member.

A Foregone Conclusion: Follows Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown. The Black Widow has gotten the attention of SHIELD and Coulson has been tasked with remedying that situation. In the midst of Barton's training his mission might prove to be the one that tears their partnership apart.