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Who the World Needs

By ChaosWithImagination

Fantasy / Adventure

Hawk meets the Unassuming Ninja

I do not own the Avengers.


Coulson.

Phil Coulson stood with his hands loosely at his side waiting in a small side alley. He closed his eyes and focused. A few seconds later he snapped them open and began climbing the rusty drainage pipe that was mostly attached to the side of the rundown apartment complex. In a few minutes he was up over the small ledge of the roof, sliding into a crouch and scanning the darkness. He knew that his Locating was right and somewhere in those shadows was the famous Hawkeye. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it; a flash of light and if he had been any slower he would have been struck through by an arrow of vivid purple energy. Which meant two things that were very bad news. One; Hawkeye was out of arrows. Two; he missed Coulson which meant he was so injured that he decided that he would try Coulson out for help. Not that he knew who Coulson was. And that was the bad thing. Anyone could have come up here and Hawkeye would have tried. Therefore it was a good thing that the person that Hawkeye decided to try for help was actually willing to give it to him.

"Don't come any closer," a thick slurred voice spoke out from the exact spot Coulson was looking at. He still couldn't actually see Hawkeye.

"Clint Barton?" Coulson asked. The air seemed to tense all around him and then the shadows lit up with a violent shade of purple. Hawkeye sat with his bow across his legs, empty quiver at his side and his entire body engulfed in purple flame. Phil held back the gasp. He was looking into the face a man that wasn't even out of his teens, yet the youth was colored by something so dark that he didn't have any hesitance to understand why people feared him. Bright purple light was streaking out from open wounds, while blood stains colored in darker purple blotches on his skin.

"Who the hell are you?" Hawkeye demanded. Coulson took a step forward and Hawkeye snapped his arm up; his forefinger held out and the shape of an arrowhead formed around it. Coulson locked gazes with those glowing purple eyes, held his arms out with palms facing outward and knelt on the concrete.

"I am just here to help," he said, igniting his own aura slowly. Azure blue flicked around him. Coulson extended his hand just a bit and let some of his aura snake out towards Hawkeye. The blue light touched the purple flame and then merged with it. Instantly Hawkeye let out a small but high pitched whine and dropped his arm. Coulson instinctively rushed toward him, just in time to catch the body of the assassin as it listed dangerously to one side. The purple went to a flicker and Coulson found himself with his arms full of dangerous assassin. Glowing purple eyes looked up into his own glowing blue ones. "I am here to help," he whispered again and let his aura wash over the battered body. Hawkeye opened his mouth and soft pained sounds came out as Coulson watched as the smaller cuts began to seal up and the bruises faded out. Then without warning Hawkeye thrashed in his arms and ripped away. They both leapt to their feet and stood staring at each other; one with wariness and anger written blatantly over his face and the other with mostly concealed amusement.

"Don't ever do that to me again," Hawkeye snapped.

"You're welcome," Coulson said mildly.

"I should put an arrow through your eye," Hawkeye said.

"But you won't," Coulson said.

"And why not?" Hawkeye spat at him.

"A few reason really," Coulson said, "One; if you wanted to kill me would have done so when I first got up here. Two; I kept my word and helped you out and you don't kill people who help you. Three; I have given you no reason to kill me."

"Maybe I don't need a reason to kill you," Hawkeye replied.

"Maybe you want to have that," Coulson said. Hawkeye stared at him.

"What did you say?" he said softly. The tone would have sent shivers down a lesser man's spine.

"Maybe you want to have a reason to kill someone," Coulson said, "Without it being just for money, reputation or survival. Maybe you want what you do to mean something. Maybe you want a reason to continue using and honing that amazing skill that you have. Maybe you want to be more than Hawkeye; master assassin."

Coulson saw Hawkeye go still. It was almost like looking at a statue. Coulson would have thought he was dead if he didn't see the light movement of ribcage.

"You can give me that?" Hawkeye asked his tone light and mocking. Coulson heard the hope under the question.

"I can help you become that," Coulson replied, "If you give me that privilege."

Coulson saw him swallow and then Hawkeye stuck out his hand.

"I'm Clint Barton," he said with an open smile that made Coulson smile back in response, "I hope you got a good medical team because I'm as torn up as liquid shit."

Coulson took his hand, shook it once and Hawkeye collapsed.


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