Heya, So this is very recent, so recent that I think it's still a work-in-progress, but this is the first chapter of it. We follow on from the 'Convincing Clint Barton' One Shot, but you can read this one without that one.
Clint Barton felt like an animal trapped in a cage of glass. He’d been handcuffed, chained from his hands to his feet, and escorted into a room that was nothing like any other room he’d ever been in. Normally they’d drag him away to be tortured, or an interrogation room. But this room? This room was made of pure glass, he was completely visible to anyone and everyone who walked past, and at this point, he was sure that every single person in the whole damn building had walked past. They’d given him a chair, a table, and a bottle of water.
His body clock estimated he’d been here for about 5 hours now. 5 hours since these chains had been put on him and he had been led into this box. Iris had promised not to leave him alone, but she had been dragged off the second the door was shut behind him. The only thing that was keeping him calm was the fact that he could see her. She was in the next room over, arguing with a man that had been introduced to him as Agent Coulson, and another dark-skinned man with an eye patch and blank trench coat. They’d closed off the blinds, giving themselves privacy, but had left one open - at Iris’ demand, so Clint could still see her.
He wished he knew what they were saying, but they were standing in a way that made it impossible for him to read their lips, almost as if Iris had planned it that way. So instead, he’d been watching the people who had come up to stare at him. They all avoided his gaze when he looked at them, but it didn’t stop them from staring at him. Even those who were supposed to be guarding him got distracted by just watching him.
Agent Coulson and Iris had warned him about this. Word had spread about him throughout Shield, not only from his reputation in the assassin world but also because he had given Shield the go around for ages. No one had been able to catch him, and no one knew why.
Iris caught his attention, throwing her hands up in the air before storming out of the small room she’d been in. Clint had no idea if that meant the discussion was over, or if she was storming out in anger.
“WHAT ARE YOU ALL STARING AT!? MOVE!” Anger it was, everyone scattered, clearing the hallways until there was no one there. Not even those assigned to guard him remained. “Hey, handsome.” It almost seemed like the anger was gone the second she stepped into the room, but he could still see it, a fire dancing behind her eyes.
“How’d it go?” He lent forward, the chains around him rattling as he did so.
“Honestly, not the best.” Iris sat on the table, putting one leg either side of him, “let me get those.” He offered her his wrists, and she produced a key from her pocket, letting the cuffs clatter to the ground before handing him the key to free his ankles. “I told them you were voluntarily surrendering, and you didn’t need these, but everyone is on edge with you here. They think you’ve tricked me, and now you’re going to kill us all.” Clint brought a hand up to massage his wrists, they hadn’t been that tight, but he hated the feeling of it nevertheless, too many bad memories.
“How do I convince them otherwise?” Iris shrugged,
“Kinda like you convince someone to trust you, be honest, be reliable, and bribe them with apples.” Iris shoved his shoulder playfully. “They want you to undergo physic eval, be constantly babysat, and do a whole bunch of fitness and shooting tests, once you’re cleared by the shrink. Then they’ll think about what to do next.”
“So they aren’t going to take me out back and execute me?” He teased, leaning forward to take her hand in his, resting his head against her knee. He hadn’t been quite sure what would happen to them, but he trusted Iris, and her judgement, completely.
“The council wants to, Papa wants to. That’s the other man I was arguing with, Director Fury to everyone else though. He probably will get pretty pissed if you call him papa.” Iris ran a hand through his hair. “But I told them they could shoot you over my dead body.”
“Your dads changed their minds pretty quickly after that?” He chuckled, he’d seen just how protective Agent Coulson was of her on the flight over, and Iris had warned him just how bad they could get.
“Unsurprisingly. You’re my asset Barton, and officially my problem now too. If anything happens, if you do anything you shouldn’t, I have to take you down before you take us down.” Iris squeezed his hand, before pushing his head away from her, he followed her gaze as she looked towards the room with her two fathers in it.
“We both know I won’t. I want to be here, to do the right thing, and be with you.” He lent further away from her, just as they looked over at them.
“Not just for now babe, but as long as you’re part of Shield. From now until you retire, you’re my responsibility.” He chuckled, reaching for her hand despite the eyes on them.
“You think I’ll manage to get past all their tests?” He doubted himself, he was good at shooting and killing, and this whole thing was starting to sound like so much more than that.
“You better, I put my whole career on the line for you.” She laughed, before squeezing his hand. “But I know you can, I’ll be right here with you the whole time.” She dropped his hand and turned to look over her shoulder as the door opened.
“Hawkeye.” He stood as both men entered, Agent Coulson walking behind the man he assumed was the Director. “Clint Barton. Whatever you prefer. I hear you befriended Agent Iris and worked some missions with her when your targets aligned.” Fury didn’t sound impressed as he spoke to Clint.
“Yes, Sir.” Agent Coulson produced a thick folder and placed it on the table.
“Oh come on, he knows his own background and what he’s done.” Iris rolled her eyes where only Clint could see, closing the folder and tucking it under her arm.
“It’s procedure Agent.” The Director fixed a glare on her, but she ignored it.
“Bullshit, we’ve never done this before, so there is no procedure. I already told him that he has to have a psych eval, and when he passes that, he has all the fitness and shooting and other tests.” Iris refused to hand the file back.
“Iris.” Agent Coulson warned her against interrupting the Director again, a hand out asking her to hand the file back to him.
“Just skip ahead so he knows what's happening, and I can go take a shower. Also, see the Doctor, my leg is still not right.” Iris lifted up her pant leg, showing them the bone as if to prove her point. Despite Clint’s best attempts, it still didn’t look all that great, she really did need medical attention. But she sparked the reaction she wanted from her fathers. “I promised I wouldn’t leave his side until he felt comfortable.”
“How did this happen?!” Fury turned all his attention to her, as did Coulson, she’d been hiding the severity of the injury since she’d stepped foot into the evacuation zone. He had a moment to observe the two men that held his fate. The Director was as tall and imposing as he had imagined from what Iris had told him of her father, although he hadn’t imagined the eye patch. Agent Phil Coulson seemed exactly the same as he had been on the plane, a quiet man, who seemed like they could be pushed around easily, but with a strong commanding aura when he needed it - like when his daughter decided to turn her target rather than kill him.
“I told dad yesterday, I was thrown off a building, screwed up the landing. It’s fine, Barton patched me up, I’ll hold off a bit longer.” Iris motioned to Clint, reminding everyone why they were there.
“Barton, that's what you prefer to be called?” Clint glanced to Iris, before nodding. He didn’t know what they wanted him to be known as. He normally just went with Hawkeye, he didn’t like his employers knowing his true identity, it was too dangerous. But things were different here, he was turning over a new leaf. These people already knew who he was, knew what he did. He felt himself starting to panic, this was a horrible idea.
“Hey, if you wanna go by Hawk or Hawkeye you can. Most people get labelled by their last names. Dad’s name is Phil Coulson, Papa’s is Nick Fury. But they get called Agent Coulson and Director Fury. I go by Agent Iris though, because there are three of us with the same last name, and the same face, maybe it was smarter to stick with last names...” Iris trailed off, giving him a quick moment. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with okay.” Iris’ hand slipped into his and she squeezed it, reassuring him that he was okay.
“I like Barton. Agent Barton has a cool ring to it.” He took a deep breath, calming himself.
“Then Agent Barton it is. What happens is you’ll be assigned an S.O. or Superior Officer, who will look after you, assign you cases and targets. Make sure everything goes smoothly for you. The triplets and I have three, Our fathers, and Deputy Director Maria Hill. Mainly because Papa and Maria can be very busy.” Clint squeezed Iris’ hand, silently asking if she would be his S.O. “Field Agents can’t be S.O.’s, because of all the paperwork, and oversight, and managing their agents mental and physical health. They’re kinda like mini-bosses, except you can talk back to them and refuse to obey orders and do it your own way.”
“That is not what you’re supposed to do.” Fury and Coulson spoke in unison, correcting her before he could get any ideas.
“So they’re gonna assign you to Agent Phil Coulson, it’s not official yet, but that's the rough plan. He’ll take good care of you. Dad works with us three triplets, so he’ll be used to most of the crazy stuff you can throw at him.” Agent Phil Coulson folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, clearly, he was not keen for Barton to follow in his daughter’s footsteps.
“But all those other missions, you never-” He had never once seen her talk to a boss, never saw anyone running oversight, if they had they would have seen him, known about him and her sooner.
“We have a long leash, especially when it comes to undercover missions, as long as we check in at set times they leave us be. You’ll not have that kind of freedom until you have been here a while and proven yourself. It’s mainly undercover ops that oversight backs off from, for obvious reasons.” Iris explained, another squeeze of his hand, their secret was safe, she was sure of that.
“What about missions? Are they solo or partnered or teams?” He didn’t work well with others, not if they were going to be agents with little autonomy. People who would follow orders without question, even if it would get them killed. He wasn’t like that, he needed some semblance of control over how he did his missions.
“They can be, you’ll probably be on a team for a while, the triplets and I are Strike team Alpha, but we do more solo missions than team missions. If you work really well with someone they will probably partner you up with them. Honestly, it can be anything, it depends on the Agents and the mission. New agents generally get teamed up with a senior agent while they learn and get a hang of things.” Iris reached out a hand to rest it on his shoulder, trying to keep him calm rather than panic over things he couldn’t control. A silent promise that she would help him make it work.
“One step at a time okay Barton?” Agent Coulson interrupted gently, “Iris is on house arrest for disobeying orders and... well, you. So she will be around for a while, keep you company.” Clint looked up at her, trying to figure out how she felt about the whole thing, but she looked like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Everyone else is scared and fascinated by you. You have quite a record.” Iris waved the thick folder as if to prove her point. “Plus you gave me the run around for like, 2 years, so extra interesting.” Iris winked at him, before turning back to her parents.
“We need to go over that file Iris, make sure it is correct.” Director Nick Fury held out his hand, expecting her to finally hand it over.
“Iris it’s fine, I can do this.” Clint reached out to squeeze her knee, nodding his permission. She eyed him carefully, before handing over the folder, leaving for half a second to grab another chair and sit down beside him.
“We can have a conversation, but this is not an interrogation.” She made it clear that this wasn’t up for discussion, and Clint was glad to have her on his side. Agent Coulson and Director Fury shared a look, silently discussing something before taking a seat on the opposite side of them, seeming to agree to their daughters terms.
“Alright, is your full name Clinton Francis Barton?” Agent Coulson flipped the folder open to page one, and started speaking.
~~~
Iris was asleep, her head resting on her folded hands on the table. He was fully aware of just when she went to sleep. It was about a quarter of the way through his file when she started yawning, and she was asleep by a few pages later. His hand resting on her leg below the table as he answered every question they posed to him, clarifying past missions, what he did and didn’t do. He was amazed that they were mostly correct, they knew about a lot of things he thought no one knew.
He wondered if Iris was the reason for that, if she had told them about some of the things he had done, if she knew the full-lengths he had been forced to go to. He was surprised when they did not mention him working with the Black Widow, or anything the pair had done together, in fact, they had nothing on him since Iris had told him to go undercover. It was like he had disappeared from their records. Which, judging by the way they were looking at him, they wanted him to tell them what he did during that time.
“I went to ground, I realised someone was after me, so I took some time off. Had a holiday.” It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that. Iris had clearly covered his tracks, and he wanted to protect his Russian Partner from them, he owed her at least that much.
“You just went to ground?” Director Fury sounded disbelieving, voice getting louder with each word. “After all of this-” his hand rested on top of the now closed folder. “You expect us to believe you just went to ground?”
“Papa! I’m sleeping.” Iris complained sleepily, moving her head to try and get more comfortable. “Barton hid, he has good survival instincts.” Both her fathers eyed her, before seeming to agree. They seemed to trust that their daughter wouldn’t lie to them anymore, and as the apparent friend of Clint, they were sure she would know.
“Let’s get you to that Psych Eval, while you’re there Iris can go see the doctor.” Agent Coulson stood, moving around the table. Director Fury picked up the chains, handing them back over to Clint.
“No cuffs.” Iris pushed them away before Clint could grab them, understanding that this was part of the deal.
“Iris it’s fine.” Clint could feel the glare from both her fathers, they didn’t trust him, not to walk their halls without restrictions. When he could strike out at any time and start taking down the entire building. If he needed to be chained to make them feel more comfortable, then that was what he would do. “I understand, you know they won't trust me for a while, if this is the price I pay, then this is the price I pay.” Iris raised her head to watch him, before reaching out to take the handcuffs. Clint offered her both hands, but she only locked it around his right wrist, surprising him by locking the other side around her left wrist.
“Gonna have to take me down first, that should reassure them.” She teased, standing and waiting for him to be ready to do the same.
“You’re injured, easy target.” He responded in kind, standing and gently nudging her sore leg, she winced, giving him a chance to wrap his chained wrist over her shoulders. “See?” She glared at him, using her elbow to hit him in the stomach, using that time to twirl around so it was him with the handcuffs across his chest. “Oww.” He playfully complained, rubbing his stomach. Neither of them were particularly trying, just enjoying being able to mess around with each other.
“Call me an easy target again Barton.” She dared him, and he knew she had an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to make his move.
“Easy. Target.” Clint Barton couldn’t resist a dare. He tapped her leg again and moved quickly to have her in a headlock in front of him.
“You’re an arse.” She grumbled under her breath, holding up her chin so she had room to breathe. “Also put the guns down.” Clint looked up to see both her father's holding guns and pointing them at him. He had been so wrapped up in her that he forgot they had company - good thing she said something because he had half a mind to spin her around and kiss her.
He should have been worried about how comfortable he felt here, in a building full of people that would kill him in a heartbeat. But instead he was okay with it, he was happy to be here, to start becoming a good guy, and most importantly, be with Iris.
Clint let Iris go, holding his hands up as neither man made a move to put the guns down. Iris rolling her eyes at them, her own arm forced upwards with Clint’s.
“If he was going to kill me he would have done it ages ago. Like that time when we first talked.” Iris winked at him, sending his mind back to the day when she scared him, and he had held a knife to her throat.
“Nah, breakfast that morning, poison may not be your style, but I don’t mind dabbling in it.” He replied, bringing her mind to the first time they woke up together when she was first ordered to kill him.
“Hey, I made pancakes for breakfast.” Clint chuckled at her complaint, taking a few steps forward to open the door for everyone, hoping they would get the hint, and that someone would lead him where they were going.
“Okay, but I had a gun under the pillow, so I could have.” He responded teasingly, she bumped him with her hip, eyes darting to her fathers. She was worried they would catch on to whatever it was that they were. But Clint had a clever plan to get around that - he just hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet.
“Point is, you could have and you haven’t.” She eyed her fathers until they put their guns away, “just like I could have killed you and didn’t.” Clint rested his arm over her shoulder once again, bringing her cuffed hand up across her chest as he did so.
“I am grateful for that.” Iris smiled softly, looking up at him, her hand resting over his so she could be more comfortable with the handcuffs she had put on herself.
“As am I.” He leant towards her, before pulling away again, remembering he couldn’t kiss her. She pouted but looked slightly relieved that he had stopped anything from happening.
“Anyway, the psych eval, then I can shower and get checked. You should shower too Barton, you stink.” He acted mildly offended just for show, he knew he didn’t, they had both had a shower this morning before heading to meet up with Agent Coulson.
“Doctor Charles is waiting for you, this way.” Agent Coulson spoke, stepping out in front of us and leading the way. Director Fury falling in behind him. It was only Iris at his side that kept his mind slipping back into the idea of being a caged man, but he was still on edge. Noticing as a woman hovered just behind a door frame up ahead of them, seemingly waiting.
He tensed, but she didn’t move as he passed, standing with a clipboard in one arm, letting the darkness of the room fall over her. He heard it as she fell into step with the director behind him, another guard to escort him away.
“Director, Agents.” The woman greeted everyone, “Sorry I know you’re busy Director, but the council is demanding your presence at once. I’ve held them off as long as I can.”
“Have fun Papa.” Iris ducked out from under Clints arm to kiss Director Fury on the cheek, ignoring his grumbling that it was all her fault. Clint tried to ignore it too, knowing it wasn’t Iris’ fault, but his own. He was the one causing all the stress and extra work, he just hoped it would be worth it.
“Maria, organise around the clock guard for Barton, people that won’t be intimidated by him, or my daughter.” Iris laughed at him as Maria agreed to sort something out, following the director another, much more well lit room, up ahead on their left.
“And then there were three.” Iris teased, noticing Agent Coulson tense up slightly, hand twitching for his gun. A breath out later and he was calm, like nothing had happened. He had spent the entire flight home watching Iris and Barton, he knew how much the younger man wanted to be here, to start over, he wouldn’t risk that. He was clearly just nervous that maybe he had read the situation wrong, aware that Clint was a trained assassin, and a good one at that.
“Iris, stop it.” Clint glared at her, before looking back to Coulson, she wasn’t helping things.
“Sorry babe.” Her voice was very quiet, making sure that only he could hear her. She moved their handcuffed arms, entangling her hand in his and squeezing.
“Are you listening in on the council meeting?” Iris gave him a subtle nod in answer, watching her fathers back to make sure that he didn’t notice their quiet conversation. “Is it bad?” She nodded again, before shrugging.
“Nothing we can’t handle, don’t worry about it, you have to get through all of this.” Her other hand waved vaguely down the hallway. “I can handle all of that.”
“I feel bad for putting you all through all this.” He spoke honestly, knowing she would understand.
“I know babe, but I’d rather this than you dead, or worse, living with the Widow.” Clint laughed out loud at her horrified whisper, Iris quickly pulled their hands behind her back as Coulson turned to check what they were doing. He made a mental note to find out if she was jealous of the Russian spy, and then assure her that she didn’t need to be.
“You better not be gossiping about your father and I.” He warned, before turning back to watch where he was leading them.
“Course not dad, I would never.” Iris responded with fake sweetness, laughing as Coulson swore under his breath at her.
“Is she always like this?” Clint directed his question to Agent Coulson, wondering if the man would tease his daughter if given the opportunity. Plus, he was truly curious to know, he and Iris had only ever got stolen snippets of time together, this man had raised her.
“Sometimes, depends.” Agent Coulson answered with a smile, glancing over his shoulder at the pair, and winking at Clint. He hoped it would be the start of a good relationship with the man.
“Rude.” She instantly complained, trying to fold her arms with a huff, but only succeeded in smashing the back of Clints hand, and the cuff, into her chest.
“I know you are.” Clint responded instantly, teasing her. She turned her glare to him, but was smiling in seconds, glad he was feeling okay, safe and well enough to keep teasing her despite everything that was going on.
“Alright, so there are no mirrors with secret rooms, no wires, no secret room, no cameras. Doctor Charles may wish to take a few notes and may ask to record the appointment for his own information, but he is not allowed to share that with us. At the end of the appointment, he can either clear you or fail you. He might want multiple appointments to figure that out. Go over everything, if he clears you and you become a field agent, you will need to undergo regular appointments to stay mission ready.” Agent Coulson explained pausing outside a closed door. Clint and Iris also stopped, Clint eyeing the door as it was explained to him what he should expect.
“I’ll walk you in, introduce you two. Then I’ll head out, rooms totally soundproof, even from me - that took them a while to figure out how to do. So anything you say will stay between you and the Doctor. I’m going to head to the medical bay, then my quarters, then I’ll come back, Agent Coulson will be waiting outside the door, so if I am not here he will be.” Iris explained further, opening the door and leading Clint into a tiny little waiting room, only one other door leading off it.
“Is it soundproofed for you?” Clint asked as soon as the door shut, leaving Coulson out in the corridor, and the pair alone with no eyes on them.
“They think it is, but no. It’s just more difficult, I have to actively try - well, I always have to, but. They weren’t going to stop until they had it, and they were never going to have it.” She answered him honestly, undoing the handcuffs and wrapping her arms around his neck. “But I’m not going to, I actively try not to listen into things like this. You deserve your privacy.” He smiled back, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“If ever I wanted you to stay?” He wasn’t sure if he was prepared to talk over everything without some support. He’d rather not talk about it at all, but he didn’t know how well that would work for him. If it would be a mark against him and his attempt to join Iris working here.
“I’d do anything for you Clint.” She answered him with so much honesty shining in her golden eyes that he nearly teared up. “So if you ever need me there, I will be there.” He lent down and kissed her, using his arms around her waist to pick her up.
“Thank you.” He whispered, pulling back slightly.
“Nuh ah, I’m not done.” She pressed another soft kiss to his lips, before pulling away and moving out of his arms. Her feet had barely touched the floor when the second door opened. An old man with greying hair stood on the other side of it, a cane in one hand, and the other on the door handle. “Don’t underestimate him, he’s mean.” Iris warned, motioning for him to go ahead.
“I beat you once.” The doctor sighed, tapping her on the arm with his cane.
“Once too many Doc. This is my Barton, take good care of him.” Iris wrapped her arms around the man in a hug, clearly they knew each other well.
“Your Barton?” The doctor raised an eyebrow at her, looking over to Clint.
“I recruited him, I brought him here, he’s my responsibility. Therefore my Barton.” Iris explained with a shrug, winking as Clint looked at her in shock, wondering if she had told this man about them.
“I’ll be gentle, that's why they picked me.” Doctor Charles shook his head in exasperation, before poking Iris in the side. “Off you go.” Iris looked to Clint, silently asking him what he wanted her to do.
“I’ll be fine Ri.” He offered her a smile, walking into the second room and taking a seat on the couch.
“Alright, remember dad’s right outside. Grab him, or yell for me if you need me. Doctor Charles is really good, I never had him, if I did you wouldn’t be here, but he’s one of the best.” Ah, so just friends then, her fathers must have been worried about a conflict of interest if they shared therapists.
“You have Dr. Mendes, it was her or me.” Doctor Charles sighed, ignoring Iris’ pout.
“Cuz you were the last two left.” She half defended herself,
“She’s fussy, worked her way through everyone else and firing them when she didn’t like what they said. It got to a point where there were only two of us left. Dr Mendes drew the short straw.” He explained as Clint shot them both a confused look. “Now go away, let me get to work.” Doctor Charles shooed her out the door, shutting it behind her before taking a seat in the armchair, not seeming at all scared of the master assassin on the other seat.
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