Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Morning light shone through the dirty window of the mid-level apartment, signalling that the morning was, in fact, here. Much to the dismay of the man who resided in the twin-sized bed near said window. This man was one [f/n] [l/n]; student and professional jackass. Okay, he wasn’t that bad but he sure knew how to get under peoples skin. It was both a natural talent and a hobby of his.
This wasn’t his only talent.

[y/n] was what you might call special. Gifted. A freak. Mutant. There were many words to go with his abilities but to him they were normal. A gift in the disguise of a curse as he liked to put it. Many people thought that his particular gift was horrible to have or even a menace. Blah blah blah. All the same shit people came up with about how normal people shouldn’t be able to do things like he does, though he would correct them by saying he couldn’t actually do that much. Those things circulated around [y/n], always seeming to catch up with him no matter how hard he tried to run. Of course this was until a few months ago. That was when things changed.

The [h/c] hair of the rather short man dulled in the pale first rays of the morning. He swung his legs over the side, letting the blanket and sheet fall from his frame as he pushed himself up and out of bed. It wouldn’t be long before he would be leaving, a glance at the clock tells him it’s already 4:40am. Normally the twenty one year old wouldn’t need to be up on a saturday this early, as he didn’t have any classes on the weekend, but this morning was special. It was the day he finally was going to plead his case to the only and only S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was only a handful of months ago that S.H.I.E.L.D. became known to the public. S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t what became most popular though, The Avengers Initiative was. The group of heroes had saved not only Manhattan but the whole world from an alien race later known as the Chitauri. That was a life changing moment for the young man even if he lived down in the not-so-sunny state of Florida. [y/n] was far from the action but he knew, in that moment, his life wouldn’t be the same. So that’s why his plans for today were made.

It took a lot of hours of research and lying to find the classified information. Hell, he even did some things he wasn’t too proud of and would never admit to if asked. It was all for the sake of moving his life forward and in the end it would be worth it. In his research he had found out quite a few things. Among those things was that S.H.I.E.L.D. had smaller bases all across the globe, not only in New York. In fact Florida happened to have its own semi-secret base down near the ocean.

Sure, he knew the address but he couldn’t just waltz in there like he owned the place. He needed to come up with a plan and that was the hard part. It took him weeks to figure out what he had to do and more weeks after that just getting in contact with the right people. Lists of names, person after person the [s/c] skinned man had to schmooze just to get a hold of someone higher up on the list. Finally he had done it, with much persuasion and difficulty. He had gotten in contact with the very man in charge of the Florida base of operations for S.H.I.E.L.D. It wasn’t the famed Nick Fury but hey, he was getting there. Right now this was all he needed.

[y/n] had convinced the older man to give him a special screening for an internship. It wasn’t exactly what the younger had in mind though, he had this all figured out now. Part of him worried that it was just a ploy to get him arrested due to getting his hands on some redacted and otherwise confidential information but he had been careful to cover his tracks.

A quite plain white shirt was tugged over his head and smoothed over his chest, a pair of fitting dark jeans quickly followed, being yanked up and buttoned in place. He gave himself thirty minutes to get ready and leave. That consisted of finishing his packing for when his plan worked (and he was confident it would) finding something to eat for breakfast, making sure he didn’t suddenly lose all his powers, and finally he had to make sure his apartment was clear. If things did go as planned then he would have to leave this apartment behind so he figured he might as well clear everything away while he had the time and, of course, packing everything he would need to bring. Was he getting ahead of himself? Maybe. Did that stop him? No.

After glancing around the empty room a final time [y/n] turned his attention to the row of dead potted plants, a single flourishing one remained at the end of the row with a lone flower standing tall. The bright color almost made him sad to see it die but everything had its time, he knew that, and it just happened to be the flowers time that was drawing to an end.

[y/n] had a gift, that much was clear, but his gift was beyond that of what he has seen or read about. There were no stories for what he could do. A slender hand was raised, palm facing the innocent pink tulip. It hardly took any concentration at all before the flower began wilting, the petals falling to the dirt in the pot as it became just like the ones around it.

[f/n] [l/n], age twenty one: Student, professional jackass, and energy leech.

Chapter Text

Times up. The [e/c] eyed man had worked so hard to get here and he was not going to show up late. It was now or never, no hesitation and no looking back.

All his bags were shoved into the trunk of his junky old car, one that called out for repairs that [y/n] just didn’t have the time for anymore. The old Bel Air was greedy for attention and [y/n] tried to give it to her when he could, even got the girl practically a whole new interior, but lately his time was spent elsewhere. After everything was situated [y/n] pulled the seat belt over his body, locking it in place as he had done so many times before. He was risking everything for this opportunity. His job. His apartment. The few people in the area he could call friends. He had learned to lay low but now was his time to branch out, hoping this would turn out for the better. It had to be worth it. He had to make it worth it.

The drive was uneventful, a thick silence hanging over the driver. Silence was normally something he craved but now as different. Now it only brought with it the anxiety and fear of what he was getting himself into instead of the normal warm embrace it once offered. When it became unbearable he finally turned the stupid radio on, some monotone voices flowing out to report the news of the day. It has all been the same since the superheroes came sauntering in, the news all about how the city was being rebuilt and how people were gathering in the streets to mourn their losses and to thank those who had saved them. That was no good, he was diving head first into this and he didn’t need to be reminded of how this could all just be a horrible mistake. He could go in there and get laughed at, his powers could fail him when he needed them most, he could get arrested the moment he showed his face. The channel was changed to one that played soft classical music, something that always had calmed [y/n] down, even as a boy. So he let it do what it did, the inviting cords soothing what was left of his nerves.

While the drive was hours away it seemed that he had arrived all too quickly, driving his car to the front of thick security gates. He was greeted by two guards, one on each side of his car. The windows were already rolled down so it offered no excuse for delaying this interaction any longer.

“ID?” It was more of a demand to see one than a question.

“Actually I have a, uh, meeting with the director.” Even as he spoke he carefully noted everything he could about the men at his car. The dull uniforms and the clipboard in one of their hands, which was being scanned over.

“Name and scheduled time of meeting.” Another demand but said in a less threatening tone, almost as if the guard was curious. Did this not happen a lot?

“[f/n] [l/n], 9am.” If the guards here kept questioning you like this they would end up making you late. He just wanted to get moving.

“Alright. Stay to the right and you will be picked up at your car for further information.” Finally the guards stepped back, giving a nod as one of them pushed a button to automatically open the gates. [y/n] gave a polite smile and nod as he drove in, following the orders he was given which was thankfully something he did well.

Following the road on the right led him to a row of various other cars. As he parked his own he couldn’t help but notice how they all seemed just like… normal cars. Well what he meant was that they didn’t look like something that should be around a place like this, they looked like they were all owned by teenagers and cliche ones at that. His arched eyebrows drawing together in thought just for a moment before he could regain his composure. Surely he was just overthinking the whole thing, unfortunately he did that a lot. Almost all the time.

An airy sigh escaped his lips as he saw a neatly dressed woman coming his way, his expression changing to a friendly one as he turned the roaring engine off with a flick of his wrist. The keys were pocketed and [y/n] stepped out of the car, locking it behind him.

“[f/n] [l/n]?” For the wrinkled look about the woman her voice was rather smooth.

“That’s me, ma’am.” Always be polite. Speaking of- He stuck his hand out to shake which was returned and dropped all in a few seconds.

“You’re the last to arrive, please follow me.” Last to arrive? Wait. Who else was going for this ‘internship’ and how’d they even have the contacts to get here? That didn’t matter, right? Right. The woman turned on heel, obviously not going to wait up for [y/n] so he didn’t make her. Their paces turned almost identical, [y/n] following just behind. The woman had honey colored hair pulled in a professional looking twist but before the younger of the two could mentally note anything else about her he was lead to a large room as the door shut behind them with a loud metallic click.

“Everyone, may I have your attention?” The woman cleared her throat to grab the attention of anyone who might not have heard her. When she was settled and believed everyone could hear her well, she continued.

“My name is Idris Smith. This is not my real name as you can imagine but it is what you shall address me by. For today I will be the one to test you all.” The [e/c] eyes of the man glanced around at the other people, finding he had been correct in his assumptions of those cars belonging to teenagers. Everyone else in the room, besides Idris, seemed to be young adults ranging from eighteen to mid twenties.

“You all are here for the sole position of intern here at Shield but let me be the first to say we are only looking for the best of the best. Only one may be chosen at this time so be sure to show us everything. The test will consist of three parts. The first being physical where you will perform various tasks as if you were an agent. The next will be combat, a skill all agents must know in case of any emergency. The last test will be to determine your intelligence. All three of these tests must be passed with flying colors to even be considered so if you’d please sit we can begin.” A hand waved them to a long row of metal chairs to which everyone took a seat.
“And do not think that you will be picked because of your status or wealth, it means nothing here.”
Looking around at the people around him, it was obvious to tell who was nervous and who wasn’t. Some of the applicants wore cocky smirks, others were picking at their shirts. [y/n]? Well he didn’t know what to think. This wasn’t exactly what he had expected but the show had to go on as it were. Thankfully he was a relatively active person, being as fit as he was. Not muscular but just fit.

Two voices spoke out in turns, one listing off names and another giving a set of instructions. “You are going to be divided into groups of five and assigned an escort. They will lead you to the training grounds where you will do everything that is asked. Director Smith will be watching closely so no slacking.”

[y/n] was placed into a group and lead out, the whole time he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Two eyes were burning through the back of his head, watching his every move like a hawk. Not in passing either as if they were scanning everyone, they felt trained on him. Even without having to look he knew who it would be staring at him. Risking a glance as he was guided out, his suspicions were confirmed. Idris Smith was the one staring him down.

Chapter Text

Though the wandering eyes of Director Smith led [y/n] to wonder what was going on, he was ushered out of sight of the woman who supposedly followed behind. He was given no time to worry and to only focus on the task at hand, getting through the physical test.

It went as expected. A few run throughs of an actually quite unique obstacle course and some basic ability testing. That was really it and it didn’t take long for everyone to finish. To be honest [y/n] was getting intimidated by those who weren’t even sweating after so much work, trying to mask his own heavy breathing. Everyone was guided inside though to a different room. This one was very open, various weapon racks dotting the view. Targets of all sizes were placed around the room, there were even trainers you could presumably spar with.

If it hadn’t been clear before, [y/n] knew that he probably should have worn something better than jeans but he, again, didn’t expect this sort of testing. His correspondances had said he would be having a meeting, not combat training.

When everyone filed into the room a familiar woman's voice filled the room, stepping in front of the group to speak.
“Look around and you will see everything you will need for your second test. Use the surroundings to your advantage. Line up, single file, and you will go one by one to display what you may call combat skills.” A nervous gulp was heard in the almost silent crowd, [y/n] was actually surprised it wasn’t him who was swallowing his fear. Actually he felt confident. He could do this.

Everyone shuffled into a line, a handful of people shoving to get in front. For once [y/n] didn’t mind the shoving, going with the flow of people as he patiently waited for his turn. No one ahead of him seemed to be special like he was, they all just were vigorously trained. Not that [y/n] wasn’t, it just seemed that they had more time in with the weapons around them. They ranged from bows to long swords to brass knuckles, each of them being used in turn by the various applicants until it came to [y/n]’s turn.

A light breath was drawn in and there it was, just as he expected and wished it to be. That same burning gaze that showed he was being watched carefully. This was his time, he needed to make the most of it.

“We don’t have all day Mr. [l/n].” The voice snapped him from his thoughts, making him instinctively step forward. Alright maybe he was stalling but he got this. Yeah.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

Light footfalls echoed through the room, stepping up to one of the trainers but motioning to the other two trainers to step up as well as he gave them brief instruction to just start attacking him. To which they happily obliged. The muscular trainers darted for him as hushed whispers fell over the crowd at the fact that [y/n] hadn’t brought any sort of weapon into that fight with him. The three trainers were skilled, very skilled, but even so they were no match for what came next.

The right palm of his hand was faced towards the men charging him, giving at least some effort to make them freeze. In a mere second [y/n] had them all on their weakened knees, another second later and they were unconscious. There was probably a more ‘combat’ minded way to approach the situation but this is what he could do, why not use it?
The feeling made [y/n] want to do it again and again, it made him feel so alive. Energized. A feeling like no other but he knew how to at least somewhat control himself. Less hushed whispers immediately erupted from the crowd, turning on point to face the rest of the group in the room. Flinches spread across the adolescents but the eldest in the room spoke once more, unfazed.

“So it seems I was right about you, Mr. [l/n]. Please follow me.” Idris waved to the supervisors, motioning for them to take over and make sure the trainers were alright. [y/n] quickly caught up with her, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest. A million words and questions popped up in his head but he remained silent, focusing on where he was being taken.

A large office was where. It wasn’t anything too special to look at, just a normal office with a desk and everything.

“So..” [y/n] finally broke the silence but was only answered with a finger being raised, signalling for him to wait. So he did. He watched every movement the woman made, how she carefully flipped through paperwork on the desk and spoke into her earpiece. [y/n] hadn’t really focused on what she was saying until a particular sentence was heard.

“Patch me through to Fury.” Fury. As in Nick Fury. As in the very person he needed. His heart, which was rapidly beating before, skipped a beat. Now no words came, just the flitting of paperwork before Idris spoke again.

“Fury I have someone here that might be of interest.” A mumble was heard but it wasn’t enough to make out what Fury was saying.

“Yes. I would recommend it.- Alright.” With that she clicked a button on her headset, turning her attention to the man standing across from her.

“We are taking a trip to see someone and will be leaving as soon as you have your things.” Her voice was demanding but had a hint of confusion laced in each word, as if she wasn’t even sure herself if this was possible.

“Lucky for you I already packed,” A confident smile spreading across his face, pulling out and jingling his keys. This only made Idris frown, obviously unamused as she snatched the keys and marched out the door with [y/n] following. The keys were handing to a guard outside her door with the instructions to “Take Mr. [l/n]’s things to the jet, we will be leaving shortly.”

Things were happening so fast now, not even [y/n] could keep up even with the fact that he was hopped up on the energy of three trainers. It was a strange but familiar feeling, the very life force of the trainers flowing through [y/n]’s veins, prickling all the way to his fingertips with power. He knew from experience how far he went, they were knocked unconscious and would be like that for the next hour or so, nothing that would seriously hurt them. Just make them feel exhausted for the next handful of days was all.

They stepped outside to reveal a large silver jet parked behind the buildings on a runway. How had he not seen this all before? Maybe he was just really focused. Either way, they were helped inside which proved to be more fancy than anything [y/n] was use to. Or really, more expensive than anything he had ever seen.

[e/c] eyes scanned the area carefully before he felt the jet lifting off. It seemed so quick and it was hardly audible at all- It felt overwhelming but this is what he wanted. What he needed to get into S.H.I.E.L.D.

This is where he belonged.

Chapter Text

The jet rumbled through the sky. Without him noticing it, [y/n] had fallen fast asleep on one of the comfortable chairs placed inside. Idris Smith was sorting through a small pile of paperwork she had brought along for the trip, making sure everything was in order for the arrival. As she went through the tedious work she couldn’t help but think that Nick fury better be thankful.

The metal plane soared through the clouds, the swaying getting a bit rough at times but compared to commercial airlines it was nothing. In fact, [y/n] slept through the landing. The trip took half the time it normally would, the jet being specially built and programmed for the many agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Speed was necessary.

The slumbering man ebbed in and out of consciousness, blinking open his tired eyes as Idris finally stopped prodding his shoulder.

"I expect you to make yourself presentable. Which means I'd advise you to wipe the drool off your face." Quickly sitting up, [y/n] rubbed the dribble off his chin. Gross. He normally didn't drool. That would be a great first impression.

[y/n]’s words came out sheepish, right before letting out a small yawn that he quickly tried to stifle.
"Sorry." Glancing out of one of the small windows of the jet he saw exactly where they were. Well, sort of. It looked like some sort of military base. Like the ones where fighter planes took off, the big platforms near or out in the water. What were they called? An aircraft carrier? God, he couldn't remember.

"Is this it?" [y/n]’s voice was wrapped in a vague, soft accent. This didn't seem right. There weren't many buildings and stepping out of the jet made it seem even more open than before.

"Were you expecting more than this? If so I can gladly take you back-” The woman’s voice was cut off with the original, politely but swiftly correcting her.

“Ah, no. I’m good, don’t worry.” This was what he risked everything for so he was going through with it.

As a kid [y/n] was an energetic little ball, always driving his single dad insane. The people around him thought he had ADHD so his dad got him diagnosed. The medication they had him on didn’t do anything though, as became obvious now that he was older. The energetic personality passed on to his pre-teen years but that was when he started to become aware. Everyone around him started whispering, spreading stories about him. Some said that there was something off about the kid, others insisting he should be checked out by doctors again and given more medication. It was all in vain though, nothing they did to [y/n] helped.

Those were the years he used his power as much as he wanted, no one understood or could tell what was happening. He was weaker back then so even if he tried his hardest the worst he could do was make someone dizzy. He was no threat to anyone but even so, it resulted in one hyper lifestyle. Once he reached the age of sixteen he heard the rumors, forcing himself to cut back and rethink who he was. Cold turkey. No more taking energy from anyone or anything else. The experience was terrifying, he went through withdrawal. Anxiety, shaking, irritability, fatigue, headaches, and insomnia. The whole nine yards. The symptoms lasted a little over a month but afterwards the boy people use to know was gone. No more bundle of energy, no bouncing off the wall. Hell, he didn’t even seem like an extrovert anymore. He became low, not wanting to speak or even be seen most of the time. It makes sense, he didn’t take any energy so he didn’t have any. Even as simple as it seems, at the time it was a hill he couldn’t get over.

It took three years, when [y/n] reached the age of nineteen, when he finally got out of that slump. He gave in and told himself that from then on he would regularly take the energy from the plants around him, not from people. Not unless he really needed too. He stuck to it for awhile but hey, what could he say? People could piss him off easily sometimes. He limited himself, he really did. He kept his ability a secret, there was no need to mention it. Fear gnawed in the back of his mind, what would happen if people found out what he could really do. It wasn’t telekinesis or anything but it still could do a lot of damage, especially if he practiced. Some days he wouldn’t take any energy, leaving him drained and down. If anyone asked about it he could just come up with some excuse about how he forgot his medication for the day. What medication? No one cared to get involved at that point so he hardly had to make one up.

When the Avengers saved the world hope replaced the fear, consuming his very being with ideas and desire. That’s when he came up with his plan which led him to where he was now, standing outside a private jet being approached by more people who could only be assumed as agents. They were taken to the edge of the carrier, to the edge of the platform.

“Uh, I don’t know if this is important or anything but just so you know, I’m not the best swimmer.” He highly doubted he would have to tell that information but staring at the endless water in front of him he started to worry but just as he was about to ask what they were waiting for he saw it. The water below churned and started creating a large whirlpool, the whole carrier started to rumble. The foamy water seemed to be receding, revealing large boat-like rudders- Wait, no. The carrier was rising above the water.

[y/n] stumbled back, almost tripping and falling on his back but managing to catch himself just in time for the amused voice of Idris Smith to reach his ears.

“Welcome to the helicarrier, Mr. [l/n]. Now if you’d please follow me I have someone I think you should meet.” There was no mistaking the entertained smirk on the woman’s face, probably wanting to laugh at the confusion that was written all over the leech's face. Which [y/n] quickly shook, standing straight and clearing his throat as he proceeded to follow the woman once again. This time he remained quiet, examining all he could about the helicarrier. What a strange place.

They entered a stairwell that was hidden from their view earlier, Idris obviously knowing where she was going. A long hall later and they flooded out into what could only be the control room, control consoles lined against the walls and throughout the middle, creating stations for various workers. The room was abuzz with chatter, people giving quick reports as to what was being done. The only ones who seemed to be silent, save for [y/n] and Idris, were two tall people standing near a podium styled console. When [y/n] saw the pair his stomach dropped, this was it.

The blond led the now-nervous guest behind her to the silent pair, introducing him without hesitation.

“Sir, this is the man I spoke to you about earlier. His name is [f/n] [l/n].” A sidestep later and there was nothing blocking [y/n] from the view of the famous Nick Fury who gazed down, silently having a stare-down before breaking the silence.

“Director Nick Fury. I’m sure you want answers but so do we so I suggest coming with me.” With that he was left with no other choice, Fury turning and leaving to the right. A sharp inhale later and [y/n] followed, waiting for his future to start.

Chapter Text

[y/n] wasn’t expecting the next room to look like it did. Here is what he was expecting;

A personal office, most namely Fury’s
An interrogation room
A cell of some sort
A training room where he could show that he wasn’t lying about his abilities
What he got instead was the hidden fifth option; None of the above. He was taken into what seemed like a conference room with a large black oval table and wheeled chairs all around it. It only took him a second to take a seat after being instructed to.

Fury turned to face [y/n], staring at him with all the intensity of an annoyed bull. The tone he took didn’t seem angered though, almost like he had the perfect plan for the man who just showed up.

“Seeing as you already agreed to be here, this is how it’s going to go. I’m going to assign an agent to you who will determine exactly what you can do and how you do it. You will be staying on the helicarrier for the next few weeks until that examination is over, what will happen next depends on the observation. Understand?” His words earned a vigorous nod from the younger man who was trying to take the situation in.

Alright. He could do that. Get assigned to some agent, do some tricks to show them what he can do, determine what happens after that. Simple enough, right? Now just to see who he was going to get assigned to.

“Stay here until your assigned agent comes, they’ll show you around.” With that Fury left, leaving [y/n] to wonder who would be assigned to him. The names of all the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents he knew running through his head. Maria Hill? No, she was Fury’s right hand. Anyone from the Avengers Initiative? God no. They all had to be long gone from here doing their own thing. They were on a completely different level from [y/n]. If he was being completely honest he didn’t know any other agents but of course that’s going to change once his guide gets here.

Minutes pass, leaving [y/n] to just tap his foot and twiddle with his fingers as he waits. Eventually he resolves to spinning slowly in the swivel chair, shutting his bored eyes and leaning his head back on the chair. A groan crawled up his throat, the remaining swelled up energy just waiting to be released through physical activity. He might as well be strapped down on the chair because it sure felt like it.

What broke him out of his ever growing spinning speed wasn’t the faint sound of the door being shoved open but the voice that followed, rough but cocky sounding.

“Y’know if you keep spinning like that you’ll make yourself sick and I will not be the one to clean that up.”

Upon hearing the unfamiliar voice, the twenty one year old stuck his foot out to the ground, making the chair and his spinning come to a full stop. Seeing as he had stopped facing away from the voice, he stood and turned to properly see who had the oh-so-great-honor of showing [y/n] around and determining his skill. Familiar looking features bounced around [y/n]’ head; The slightly spiked dirty blond hair, the casual all black outfit with the out-of-place looking arm straps, the blue eyes, the defined muscles that could only be gained through years of work. Honestly though the biggest give away was the bow and quiver strapped to the back of the older male. Everything pieced together rather quickly.

“So- Guess I have to show you around, huh?” His smile was definitely inviting and welcoming. And sweet. And sof-- Hold up. No. [y/n] made his thoughts come to a screeching halt, responding before he could think about that anymore, silently scolding himself.

“Yeah, guess so. I’m [y/n] but you probably already knew that considering everything.” Considering the situation that is. [y/n] took a step towards his guide, offering his hand out which was taken and shook casually. The difference in their hands was actually pretty large. [y/n] had soft and slender hands. The other’s though? They were rough, obviously had seen a lot of use in some form of combat or exercise. Huh. [y/n] stowed that information away as their hands parted and that same familiar voice spoke out once more.

“Nice to meet you, [y/n]. I’m Clint Barton.”

Chapter Text

Was it alright to say that meeting the Hawkeye, Clint Barton, and having him be assigned to watch over you officially changed [y/n]’s life? He thought it was perfectly alright, this was just proof that he was doing the right thing after all. The pair walked through the halls of the helicarrier, the shorter wondering why he didn’t feel any movement like he would on a boat or jet. It had to be some sort of stabilizers, it only seemed logical for a place this large to have at least semi-decent stabilizers. There was no rocking or swaying, everything was just still. He couldn’t tell if it was eerie or comforting, more time was needed before he could make that conclusion.

They walked past many doors and other walkways, it was starting to seem like an indoor maze around here. They finally stopped inside what looked to be yet another training room, slightly smaller than the one at the Florida base but probably had different uses. The walls were a peculiar dark blue, almost navy, with white lines all the way around creating a grid out of the room. It made it look almost like a place for laser tag. There was a long range of weapons directly to the right of the door and circular red targets all over the room. Some hung from machinery and others coming from walls. As [y/n] entered he couldn’t help but let out a mumble that sounded sort of like “getting right into the action, are we?” Could anyone blame him though? He had already burned through a power rush earlier and then thrown right into all of this and now what? More fighting. He wasn’t going to start outright complaining but there was no holding back with this one.

Clint took a few steps forward, stopping at what was presumed to be a high-tech control panel, tapping a few buttons before turning back to see [y/n]. A mechanical whir could be heard all around them as the room started to shift, even under their very feet. The room seemed to grow, the ground underneath them getting the feeling of loose dirt. The entire room had transformed to look like a misty forest. [y/n] seemed amazed at how lifelike it all looked; The trees and the rocks, even the mountain cliff right behind them. Maybe it let them know exactly where the door was. Or maybe they actually transported to a forest? As if seeing the inner workings of [y/n]’s mind Clint gave a snicker, speaking up and breaking the boy from his thoughts.

“Welcome to training. I’d suggest picking your weapon of choice now, bad guys and all that are coming but don’t worry, for now they’re only projections.” So they didn’t teleport, that was comforting. And the enemies, whomever those were, were only holograms. [y/n] wasn’t too sure about all this, a slow panic rising as Clint started counting down from ten. A quick glance to his right showed that only two things remained like they were when they first entered the room: The weapons table and the control panel which Clint hovered his finger over, ready to start.

“One. Let the fun begin.” [y/n]’s feet stuck to the ground, he wasn’t trained in any of the weapons they had laid out. He had never even touched a bow before. The swords seemed too heavy for him. Short daggers? Seemed like his best option if plan A didn’t work. Of course plan A was- Well [y/n] was about to demonstrate. Pure black figures dropped from some of the trees, running immediately for the pair. Without even hesitating or thinking twice Hawkboy over there let loose one of his many arrows which proceeded to go directly through one of the figures chest, leaving it to turn to static and fade away.

[y/n]’s turn. He held out his palm in a familiar ritual, concentrating on one of the figures running at him. It didn’t budge. Confusion was written all over his face, an arrow whizzing through the figure about to get the better of him. Wait- He finally understood. Stupid! They were projections, they didn’t have energy to take from! Not the kind of energy he used anyway- This wasn’t fair.

“C’mon no hesitating, newbie.” Hesitating wasn’t what he was doing, panicking was more like it. Seeing the strangled look on the trainees face Clint dropped his bow to his side and reached over, stopping the program. The room turned to static for a moment before returning to normal while Hawkeye took a step towards his ward, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.
“You okay? I know we kinda jumped in and all but I just thought…” His voice trailed off. Thought what? That [y/n] was a professionally trained agent ready for everything right after being lifted off on something he didn’t think possible for at least a handful of years? Give him a break.

“I-” The eyes of the boy shifted down to his feet, struggling for words.

“Tone it down?”

“Actually, if you’d be up for it, I have an idea.” [y/n] cleared his throat, looking up again but this time with a hopeful look about him. “Before we get into the whole ‘holograms that want to eat your face’ thing I thought we could do some hand-to-hand stuff.” He flashed an innocent smile, making the agents heart melt and give in with a roll of his eyes.

“Alright, fine. I wasn’t planning on beating up a trainee but you started it.” Cocky much? Alright, [y/n] was up for it. Hand-to-hand was what he was good at. That and the surprise up his sleeve. “I’ll go slow,” Clint added before stepping to the middle of the room. [y/n] followed, keeping a few feet apart as the agent set down his bow and quiver. [y/n] took the time to get into a good stance.

“Ready?” Clint smirked, waiting for a response.

“Why ask?” [y/n] was as ready as he ever would be. With that Clint started by throwing a simple punch which was easily dodged. [y/n] got ahead of himself though, sweeping his leg under the agent, which was very easily dodged and put a damper on what [y/n] planned on doing next. Things started moving faster as they went back and forth, Clint taking it up a step as he advanced. Before he knew it, [y/n] had his arm twisted behind his back, holding him in place against the agent’s chest.

“You definitely did better than I expected, and better without the projections.” This was it, this was his moment. Clint had let his guard down ever-so-slightly when speaking which left [y/n] open to dart back his free arm, grabbing the blond’s free hand and using what he did best.

“I’m not done yet, ass.” He quickly felt the grip on his twisted arm loosen enough for him to break free, keeping contact with his other hand as he drained the energy from the man, a boastful smile dancing on his lips but when Clint fell to his knees [y/n] quickly let go. Every part of him begged to keep going, to drain every ounce of energy he could, but he knew better. He only had to make the guy weak so he could officially say he beat him.

“Pretty cool, huh?” [y/n] wiggled his eyebrows and stuck out his arm to help the defeated agent up, which was accepted as Clint pulled himself up.
“Bet you hadn’t expected that-” Before his next words came out his face fell slightly, “Unless you were told before. But oh well I still beat you, right? Tell me that counts-” He was just rambling on now, a side effect of the energy rush he just gained.

“Jeez, kid.” Hawk’s words and the chuckle that followed them shut [y/n] up automatically.
“Could have done some serious damage with that, glad you didn’t.”

“‘Course I didn’t, I like you after all.” [y/n] couldn’t even stop to think about what he was saying now, they just came rushing out.
“Just had to win because I really need this- I need to be here I mean. Back home it was just, well, yikes.” Clint just took the words in, still listening to all his words curiously.

[y/n] stopped at that point, letting the words run through his head instead of letting them come from his throat.

“C’mon, kid, I think we both could use a rest,” Followed by another small laugh, one that made all the thoughts in [y/n]’s head go blank. Huh, interesting. He hadn’t recovered from a power high that quickly in a long time. And as a result of someone laughing? Never.

Clint then led [y/n] to where he was going to be staying while he was here, a simple room with no windows or side rooms. [y/n] shuffled his feet, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was late, had they really spent that much time here already? His voice was different from when he last spoke, it was much calmer now.
“Are there showers?” Which was responded with a nod from Clint.

“‘Course, I’ll show you.” Not too far from where [y/n]’s room were the men's showers. They stood out from the other rooms, it was white inside instead of what seemed to be the normal grey and black of this place. This place really was huge, much larger than it seemed at first.

Clint offered a warm smile, leaning his back on the open door.
“I’ll leave you to it and while you get yourself squeaky clean I’ll grab you a change of clothes, alright?” The trainee just nodded and headed towards the rack of towels to grab one. On his way he heard the door shut, signalling that Clint had left [y/n] alone with his thoughts.

The showers were empty except for himself, who started one of the many showers and got changed out of his clothes while he waited for it to heat up. When the water was warm he stepped under the water, letting it run over his face as the days events played through his head. He was doing the right thing, he knew it.

The next thing he knew he had a towel wrapped around his waist and one Clint Barton handing over what looked to be an agent uniform in his size. The shorter man had scars littering his torso, the biggest being from his top surgery, including what appeared to be an old gunshot scar on the left side of his chest, Clint couldn’t help but wonder how it even got there. As Clint turned to leave, [y/n] stopped him.
“Hey, Clint? Could I talk to you?”

“Sure.” He turned back around but stepped towards a wall, pulling himself up on one of the sink counters so he could sit as well as face away from [y/n] while he changed.

Speaking of which, with the towel still around his lower half, [y/n] pulled the shirt over his head and settled it over his chest. Next came the pants.
“Do you know why you were assigned to me in the first place?”

Clint shrugged at first but let out a sigh.
“Call it probation. I keep an eye on you and you keep an eye on me, that sort of thing. And before you ask, I got probation because when that Asgardian ass came down to wreck everything he- tried to corrupt my heart.” Oh. “But enough about that, I want to know more about you.”

[y/n] tugged his pants up, buttoning them in place. He pondered his words as he made his way to where Clint was sitting, leaning on a wall across from him.
“Well, what do you want to know?”

“You said something earlier about your life back home, the sunshine state right? Well I want to know what happened.” Oh. The thin lips of the shorter man pursed, glancing back down with an absent look but waving his hand to dismiss it as he stood straighter.
“Getting right into the gritty stuff. I think I’ll save that for later.” To, y’know, see if he really cares to know. [y/n] could make his way back to his room so he started to leave, hearing Clint drop down from the counter and follow behind.

Clint obviously didn’t want to push it so he just followed, making sure that his ward could find his way back. Whatever happened would stay that way. For now at least.

Chapter Text

[y/n] is a complicated person. Not in the mysterious sense you see in movies or read about but the kind that changes his mind a lot, people sometimes saying he changes his personality right with those changes of heart. For him it was hard to understand or control that, it was a side effect of his abilities after all. Happy to sad, angry to content, it was like a flip of a switch sometimes, though usually it took a bit more. Even trying to describe it to someone proves difficult. He would rather keep it to himself but would attempt to explain if asked.

He was a pretty average looking person though. Choppy [h/c] hair, [e/c] eyes that didn’t sparkle or shine in vivid color, a height of- Okay he was a bit on the short side and didn’t like to admit how his height. He could get awfully defensive about his height when it came down to it. He had a lean body but no excess muscle or anything. The only thing different about him was the things you couldn’t see at first glance. The lack of traditional male genitalia for one, though he had been transitioning from a young age and wasn’t questioned most of the time.

The night was upon him before he knew it but with the night didn’t come sleep. Getting a power high was almost like a sugar-rush in a small child but a lot more dangerous if not controlled. [y/n] had quickly retreated to his room after his shower before he could get interrupted, the whole time focusing on what he would tell Clint about his past and what he would leave out. Once in the safety of his sleeping quarters he took a slow but deep breath through his nose, finding all his bags. Somehow someone had got them there after they first saw the room but before he finished his shower. He was thankful but didn’t unpack anything.

His “bags” consisted of a large green duffle bag and backpack, nothing special. Inside were his clothes and certain other small things to get him by. This is where he needed to be, right? In a place where he couldn’t hurt anyone but instead help others. Risking his life would just add to the thrill.

[y/n] wasn’t sure if he would be left alone for the rest of the night or not but either way, he couldn’t sleep. His energy levels were still high- To try and diminish his energy enough that he could sleep he decided to exercise as he found that the second most effective. The most effective way would be the complicated process of transferring the energy somewhere else but he couldn’t do that right now. Never once was he successful and the outcome of each trial had been disastrous, each on a different level.

The first time was by accident- He happened to be fiddling with a broken watch while on one of his power-highs when it accidentally blew up. How? At the time of the accident he was thinking of what exactly would happen if the energy he had was all moved to the watch, or partially to make it work. Well, he got his answer.

The next few times were a bit worse; one causing a city-wide blackout, another causing a small house to be- well, destroyed. Thankfully no one got hurt either time. The only time that ever happened was the fourth incident. It was his fault his friend felt obligated to visit him during a bad time. He blamed himself for everything, avoidable or not.

It was a little over a year ago. [y/n] had made the bad choice of taking too much energy from too many sources, resulting in an addiction-like craving. After taking the energy from his apartment’s generator, the lights went out and somehow his friend, known to everyone as just “Bee”, had gotten news of it and came to check on him. What happened next was terrifying- [y/n] had foolishly tried to give some of his energy to Bee but normal human bodies can’t compensate for the extra surge. The image will forever haunt him.

So with a work out on his mind he started, sit ups first. He did only thirty before switching to push ups. At this point he had to push himself, knowing the only way down was to use the energy he had pent up inside. That meant quickly switching from one exercise to another, repeating his actions with all his will. After getting roughly an hour of nonstop extensive workouts, sweat began to drip down his nose. [y/n] knew it was about enough to sleep now. His energy levels were significantly lower, he could already feel it.

After changing into something more suitable for sleeping and less sweat-covered, the possible-agent-in-training tucked himself under the covers of the uncomfortably stiff bed and let his mind slip into unconsciousness. Just as expected, he had no dreams. The nights were usually spent in nothingness, or nothing he could remember at least. Sleep was a complicated thing for him, hour after hour of being knocked out with no memory of what happened in between. Complicated and something he didn’t care to dwell on.

There was one thing that [y/n] absolutely hated about sleeping and that was when he had to do it alone. [y/n] was always a clingy person in one way or another and he would be lying if he said he liked sleeping alone night after night. Sure, the quiet was nice but who says silence between two people has to be uncomfortable? He knew for sure that it wasn’t always that way, that two people could share a space in silence and still be completely comfortable and at peace. That’s what he liked.

Chapter Text

The morning came with a firm knock outside his door, rousing [y/n] from his slumber with a small groan. Even though he did let a small groan slip he didn’t hesitate to jump up, quickly slipping pants on since he liked to sleep without them. Heading for the door, it swung open probably a bit too fast- there was an agent on the other side, long brown hair in a bun on the top of her head and communicator in her ear. She spoke up before [y/n] was given a chance.
“There’s a briefing in the conference room in five, Director Fury doesn’t want you to be late.”

[y/n] practically sputtered at the statement, “Five minutes?!”

“Yes. Is that a problem?” It seemed that she was looking for anything that could get him out of here, not in a mean or rude way but just like she was testing if he actually was meant to be here or not. He is positive that this is the best place for him so he simply shook his head and said “No problem at all, I’ll be over in just a minute.” With that he closed the door carefully and rushed to get his clothes on. He just grabbed one of the agent outfits that was hung in the closet, practically jumping into it even despite the unfamiliar material it was made from. Soon after he got shoes on he was out the door of his room, desperately hoping he remembered where Clint had said the conference room was. Thankfully he had the right room, forcing himself to not burst in, skidding to a stop seeing exactly who was in the multiple chairs. There was Clint and Fury as expected but beside them sat two other women and a man.

Fury motioned to one of the black chairs around the large round table, speaking in a tone that couldn’t quite be placed.

“Have a seat [l/n], we have a lot to talk about.”
Without thinking twice, he took the seat offered and made an attempt to not look completely in awe. How was it even possible? He felt so starstruck it was a legitimate worry that he wouldn’t be able to form coherent sentences.

The oval table had eight chairs, Fury taking the head of the table which happened to be directly across from [y/n]. To his right stood Maria hill looking as stoic as ever. To Fury’s left was Clint and Natasha Romanoff, both seated with still closed folders in front of them. Finally, sitting next to Maria was none other than Bruce Banner who skimmed through an open file with curiosity written on his face. Meeting so many of his idols in the span of two days was almost overwhelming but extremely exciting.

“I see that look on your face and no you are not joining the Avengers Initiative.” Fury spoke bluntly before moving on to gesture to the center of the table.

“Based on how you stole confidential information,” his words were stressed while half-heartedly glaring at [y/n], “I’m sure you know that we’ve been keeping an eye on you.”
[y/n] shrunk into his seat timidly, make a face for a moment as he realized he was caught.

The center of the table lit up in a blue glow as a projection appeared, images and clips of [y/n] using his ability now showing. It was odd for many reasons, the first being that he hadn’t seen himself like this before. Normally he was so stuck in his own head that seeing things from a different perspective, literally in this case, was just not something that happened often. The second reason was that the things the projection showed were times when [y/n] thought he was alone. Private moments tucked away in his apartment, sleepless nights, stress filled days. One clip showed him taking the energy from the flower before he left not but a few days ago.

A frown grew on his face as the scenes switched and pictures changed. One particular clip hit like a brick to the gut, giving no warning. Without knowing what caused it, the scene might have looked pretty normal. It showed [y/n] sitting on the floor of his bedroom, many notebooks and folders littering the space. [y/n] was frantically taking notes, his face obscured by the angle the video was taken from. What wasn’t seen was the exhausted look he wore, the sunken and bloodshot eyes, the newspaper clippings detailing the “mysterious and spontaneous” death of a local youth. It didn’t show the frustration he had, trying to figure out where he went wrong and how he could never ever do it again.
It didn’t show the guilt of knowing that he killed his best friend and in that moment of pain he wanted nothing more than to join her.

There was a silence as everyone seemed to be watching the projections, the lack of noise only made the questions in his head louder. For how long had his every action been monitored? Did he have no privacy? Now that he was actually with agents of Shield was he still being watched via cameras? He felt exposed and vulnerable in a way that he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Finally, the silence was broken by Fury once again.
“Dr. Banner is going to do a physical evaluation then you’re going to report for training. Until then, and let me be clear, do not use your powers unless asked. Am I understood?” His whole aura was intimidating but not in the way [y/n] had expected it- Fury seemed to be a no fucking around type and wasn’t afraid to be unprofessional. He knew that he was still in charge and it seemed it was clear to everyone else too.

“Understood.” [y/n] swallowed the mix of awe and fear he had before he spoke. After, he merely waiting for further instructions.

He had expected the meeting to last longer but there was apparently nothing else for [y/n] there. Bruce stood and flashed a warm smile towards the new recruit before guesting towards the door they had come in through. The two men exited the meeting room silently, leaving the others to discuss their own work.

“It’s nice to meet you, [y/n].” Bruce held his hand out, moving the folder he still held onto into the crook of his left arm. [y/n] shook it with little hesitation, returning the smile. It was understandable that he was nervous but the calm look on Bruce’s face slowly washed away the nerves.

“You too. Have to say I’m a fan of your work,” [y/n] grinned a bit brighter. He wasn’t talking about the Hulk, he had done research into Bruce’s studies and read some of his research papers. None of them really helped, since he had been looking for ways to help him explain his abilities, but they were still read regardless. Though, if he was honest, [y/n] wouldn’t have read them if the Hulk wasn’t a thing. Scientific papers are not really his ideal free time activity.

“I have a lab here, it’s not too far away.” Bruce started walking down one of the halls, keeping a pace that he knew [y/n] could keep up with.
“Hope Clint isn’t giving you too hard of a time so far.”

“He hasn’t been that bad- though I really have only had a few conversations with him. It’s only my second day here.” [y/n] was a bit shorter than Bruce but was able to keep up with him, being sure to memorize the path they were taking just in case he needed to find it again.

“Oh, yeah. We don’t get a lot of new people, especially ones like you. Actually… I don’t think I’ve seen anyone like you at all before.” The curious tone just made the trainee interested.

They made small talk the rest of the way, talking about how operations usually worked around here, what to expect the next few days, and just about any other general question [y/n] could think to ask. The lab they arrived to is a decent size, a few sectioned off areas for (presumably) different projects and tests. [y/n] was guided to a portion that looked more like a medical bay, examination bench and everything.

“I just want to go over a few things if that’s alright with you.” [y/n] just gave a nod in response, hopping up to sit on the exam bench. Bruce, as he said, just went over some basic things like checking blood pressure and oxygen levels all while taking notes on a clipboard.

“I’m going to ask you some questions about your ability. If any of these are too personal or you can’t answer, just stop me.” His face was genuine too, showing honest concern. While he didn’t know how [y/n] was adjusting to the power, he knew his own experiences. Knew how much he struggled with coming to terms, how he got to such a low place while trying to cope. By all standards he is in a much better place now.

“What, exactly, do you know about your ability?”

“Ah. What I know is that I can take the lifeforce, or at least I think that’s what it is, from living beings and transfer it to myself.” It seemed pretty cut-and-dried.

“When did you start showing signs that you could drain power from things?”

“I guess for as long as I can remember. It’s always just kinda been there, even if it wasn’t… fully developed?” Adjusting his posture a bit, [y/n] thought back.

“Is it just taking that lifeforce or can you give it to things as well?”

[y/n] paused, remembering Bee before taking a deep breath. Something close to grief crossed his face before blinking it away.

“I haven’t tried much but I think I can transfer it to other living things as well. It just… hasn’t ended well.” Best case so far? Someone or something had a heart attack or something akin to it. Worst case? Bodily explosion.

“Okay, I think I’ll leave it here for now.” Maybe Bruce saw the bit of pain the question caused. “Any questions for me?”

“Yeah, actually. How long am I going to be staying here?” The helicarrier was nice, don’t get him wrong, but he didn’t like the idea of being confined to any one space.

“I don’t know. My guess is that it’ll only be for a day or two more. Fury would be the person to ask but I know he ca-” Bruce was interrupted by Clint pretty much rushing in.

“Not sorry to interrupt you but I need to borrow [y/n] here.” Hawkeye wasted no time in dragging a confused [y/n] out the lab doors and back into the main hall where he continued but at a slower pace.

“You mind telling me what that was for?” A pang of annoyance rang in his voice, not too happy that he was pulled away from Bruce mid-conversation.

“Figured you were being bored to death so I decided to break you out.” He gave a nonchalant shrug but there was a smirk on his face being poorly hidden.

“Oh, going for the heroic knight rescuing me are we?” The annoyance was gone now, there was no way he could stay upset at someone like Clint anyway. “Well, dearest knight, where are we heading to anyway?” A grin of his own quickly grew on his face, punching Clint lightly on the shoulder.

“Getting some fresh air, dearest prince.” They both let out a small laugh at the names.

There was something that [y/n] couldn’t place in the way Clint made him feel. It was a jumble of feelings that snakes up his chest and wrapped around his heart with no sign of letting go. There was the desire to get closer to him, to talk to him, to touch him, to just drink up the time they spent together and it was terrifying. [y/n] hasn’t been close to anyone in so long and it’s been even longer since he had the urge to get closer to someone he had just met. For now he just ignored all of it.

After a few turns down a familiar path, they ended up entering the same holographic training room from yesterday. It looked almost untouched since then, even the racks didn’t seem moved at all.

“I thought you said we were going to get fresh air?”
“Eh, close enough.” With a shrug he went over to the main control panel to push a few buttons before the room started whirring to life once more.

“Can we eat first or something? Haven’t really gotten breakfast yet and it’s still pretty early.” [y/n] was a bit unsure about training just yet, not wanting to embarrass himself with the projections again. Clint just waved his hand dismissively as the room started changing shape.

“We can do that in a few minutes, yeah. Just relax a bit, okay?”

The room quickly started taking shape; A large flat platform rose in the center of the room around the trunk of a tree, more treetops forming in various other places throughout. Clint quickly pulled [y/n] onto the platform as the room finally settled. As it did, Clint sat on the edge of the treetop platform, letting his legs dangle off the edge. [y/n] carefully followed suit, sitting next to him.

“This place really is like a holodeck, isn’t it?”
Clint laughed, nodding a bit. “Yeah, pretty close.”

There didn’t seem to be any projected villains or other threat heading for them so [y/n] let his guard down and let his body relax.

“See, what did I tell you? Fresh air.” Clint looked out towards the simulated horizon, not looking over as he spoke. His voice was… less cocky.

“Do you come here a lot?” [y/n] wasn’t really sure what to even ask or if there even was a good topic of conversation right now. Things seemed to be getting oddly intimate.

“Sometimes but there usually isn’t time for it. I get to use you as an excuse now though so no snitching on me.” This time he did look over at [y/n], nudging his shoulder.

“My lips are sealed.”

Some time passed before the silence was broken again by Clint, though it seemed neither one minded either way.

“I know you’ve probably been through some shit and not everyone here is as, well, charming or welcoming as I am..” He paused again as if to figure out how to word his next thought.
“It isn’t easy working here, you see some things and do some things you won’t be proud of, but I figured I should let you know that I’m always free to hang out or talk.” Feelings weren’t his strong suit and that was pretty obvious but even the gesture warmed [y/n] heart.

“I appreciate that, man, I really do.” [y/n] was going to say more but got stopped by Clint standing up and stretching his back out. The way his shirt rode up just enough to show his midriff didn’t go unnoticed either but the thought was, again, pushed aside.

“C’mon, let's get you some food.”

The rest of the day went by with little issue. [y/n] and Clint went to the kitchen and got some breakfast while joking around, they both trained on and off for a few hours before Clint got called away and left [y/n] to his own devices. He decided to explore a bit more but didn’t find anything too interesting or noteworthy. After that he just passed the time in whatever way he could until it was time to sleep. Tomorrow would be another day of training and some bloodwork for the medbay.

As much as he wanted to ignore it, and boy did he try, [y/n] couldn’t get Hawkeye out of his mind for the rest of the day.