"You brought him in," Hill noted as she stepped up next to Coulson to watch through the two way mirror as the doctors examined Hawkeye.
"I did."
"You shot him?"
"He shot Garrett and would've gotten away."
"So, who's interrogating him?"
"I might let Garrett have a go at it first. Since he was the one that got shot after all."
"How nice of you, Coulson."
"I have my moments."
Hill snorted and they both blinked in surprise when Hawkeye kicked a doctor away, screaming at the top of his lungs. A few seconds later, he settled down, and Coulson realized they'd dug the bullet out while he was conscious. There was a moment of silence where both agents simply watched as the teenager was once again restrained.
"He refused to be put under," Hill noted.
"He doesn't trust us. I don't blame him. I did shoot him in the leg."
Again, they fell silent as they watched Hawkeye try slipping out of the restraining hold against him.
"He's going to have to do physical therapy for a few weeks," Hill commented.
"Who's going to be his handler?" Coulson replied.
"That's up to Fury. We might not even keep him if he can't pass the physical and psych test."
"We're keeping him," Coulson stated, allowing no doubt to be heard in his voice.
"What makes you so sure?"
"You'll have to see him in action, Maria. The kid was amazing."
"But he's a kid," she pointed out.
Coulson shrugged slightly, and they fell silent as the doctors stitched him up and went through his physical. As soon as they were done, the kid was cuffed to the bed and the doctors left.
"His physical looks fine, other than the gunshot wound. He'll need to go through physical therapy for a few weeks until he can walk normally. A nurse is going to get him crutches and then he will be released into your care for the time being, Agent Coulson."
"I think that answers the handler question," Hill said after Coulson signed a few forms.
"So it seems."
True to the doctor's words, a nurse came in and handed Coulson a pair of crutches. Hill muttered an excuse about having to go see Fury while he accepted the key to the handcuffs from the nurse.
"Would you give Agent Garrett a message saying interrogation room five?" he asked the nurse.
"Yes sir," the nurse agreed, shutting the door after her.
Coulson glanced through the mirror and frowned. The kid was smirking in his direction, though he shouldn't be able to see through the mirror, twirling the handcuffs around his finger. Coulson stepped out, walked down the short hall, and stepped into the exam room.
"You can pick locks." He didn’t know why it was so surprising to him. Picking locks was a common enough skill around SHIELD.
A small smirk graced his face and he tossed the handcuffs to Coulson. The agent motioned for Clint to stand up and held the crutches out. Clint eyed Coulson for a moment, and Coulson fought the urge to blink at the strong look of distrust that had walls sliding into place behind the kid's eyes.
"The nurse gave them to me."
"The same nurse who handcuffed me?"
"As I recall, you did tell the doctor you'd kill him if he moved towards you again after you kicked him in the face."
"Whatever, give me the damn crutches so I can walk," he huffed.
Coulson handed them over and watched warily as the kid weighed them in hand. Coulson moved a step closer to keep Clint from using them as a weapon to hit him across the face with.
"Get up and follow me," Coulson ordered.
Clint scowled and swung his legs over the bed. Without thinking, Coulson reached out to steady him, but the archer recoiled quickly. Coulson let him get up by himself, and he limped along behind the agent as Coulson led the way to the interrogation room. Garrett was already inside, arm in a sling and a scowl on his face.
"Hawkeye, Agent Garrett. Garrett, he's yours to question."
Garrett nodded and ordered the kid to sit in the other chair. Coulson wound the cuff through the bar on the table and snapped them around his wrists.
"Let's start off with an easy question, what's your name?" Garrett asked once Coulson was in the adjoining room with Sitwell.
