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Chapter Text

Clint's POV

He was taking it easy from his last hit. The mission itself had gone well all things considering. Still his ribs ached from a bad fall.

He was in Venice again. A city he had avoided since the fall of the Foundation. Dante was still around somewhere but he didn't want to see the man. They had a falling out after the fall of the Foundation. He had tried to forget that life. He couldn't no matter how hard he tried. The seeker life stayed with him.

Springer who was a squirrel like titan refused to let him wallow in self pity. It stayed out of its amulet much like Charon had. Springer though couldn't talk but they had a telepathic bond.

The only titan in his arsenal that could talk was Murasame. The demon sword that kept him alive. Part of him wished he never took the sword from the man. His life had become infinitely more complicated since that day.  

Murasame wanted him to find the other bead holders. Specifically he wanted him to find the holder of the gem of duty. This person was supposed to be his anchor. Not that he wanted or deserved one.

He winced when a man in a suit bumped into him. On instinct he lifted the man's wallet at the bump. His shoulder was screaming in pain but that was nothing new. The coils in it were so badly damaged it was a wonder he was alive. 

It was impossible for him to call on any titan or use any of his powers without pain. Still he fought through it and continued against his better judgement to survive. It was getting harder and harder to make that decision though.

When he turned into an alley he decided he was enough in the clear to see his catch. He opened the wallet and the first thing he noticed shocked him. The man in the suit worked for the American government. He would recognise the shield anywhere. Lovely if the man could identify him he was in for a world of hurt.

The name though he had only heard in rumors. Shield. It was a defense group that acted in the countries best interest. No one knew where the main  base was. Anyone that turned in one its agents got a big pay day.

Part of him wanted to turn in the agent. It was no skin off his nose. He would be quite a bit richer for it. Then again he really didn't want Shield breathing down his neck. He had enough problems avoiding the Organization. So instead he chose to check for money.

He whistleed in surprise. There was at least 200 dollars in the wallet. It would make for a nice few days if he spent it right. With that he tucked the wallet into his jacket and started for his hotel.

Coulson's POV

He was not having a good day. First he spilled coffee on one of his best suits. Then their operation went side ways. He was still waiting to hear from his men on if they made it out. To top it all off some ass had stolen his wallet.

Vaguely he remembered bumping into a boy on his way in that morning. It had been fast and he never felt his wallet being lifted. Some of his men were having a field day with it. What kind of secret agent got their pockets picked? Fury was going to have his head.

His thoughts turned serious when the screen came alive. A voice came across it sounding breathless," This is Storm calling Overwatch. Overwatch do you read?"

Caulson said calming not letting his tone betray what he was really feeling," Storm this is Overwatch. What's your status?"

They heard a strange cry of," Raypulse!"

A yelp came from Storm before he replied," Surrounded by hostile, sir. These guys aren't human. The mission is a fail and my team is down. I'm the only one left."

Caulson felt his heart clench at those words. He knew that protocol dictated that they drop the mission. That he hoped his men made it back. This was supposed to be an easy assignment.

"Overwatch I'm sending you all the Intel we gathered. No matter what happens thank you," Storm said sounding resigned.

Like every agent he knew the risks. He knew that protocol said he was to be left there. Phil Coulson couldn't accept this. This was men he trained and fought alongside for years. There was a scream from the comms then nothing but static.

All of his men in the command post hung their heads. They knew that the team has been lost.

"Sir, we have the transmission. It went through right before..." one of the techs said. Leaving off what everyone knew.

His team in their final moments had completed their mission. He pulled up the information. He was supposed to read it when they got back. So that they could plan a counter attack.

The files read:

Loke Lambert aka Clint Barton

Age:18 born in United States
Has citizenship with Ireland and United States

Trainers: Swordsman (Circus), Trickshot (Circus), Dante Vale (Foundation), Metz (Foundation)

Known titans: unknown

Known abilities: unknown

Summary: Loke Lambert joined the Huntik Foundation at the age of sixteen.  Under the tutelage of Dante Vale he became one of the most prominent enemies of the Organization.

Six months after joining the Foundation fell during the attack on their headquarters. Lambert was assumed dead until Hawkeye showed up as a hit man. Kill on sight orders were issued by The Professor.

Phil looked at the picture unbelievingly. This was the kid he had bumped into. Several questions ran though his mind. What powers? What in the hell was a titan? Maybe he should find the kid. If only to get back his wallet.

He said glaring at his techs," Get me all the information you can find on one Clint Barton also known as Loke Lambert."

It didn't take long for a report to land on his desk. This one had more information but it was equally unsettling. It read:

Clint Barton

Age 18 born in United States

Description: 5'10 blond hair blue grey eyes. Scars on right shoulder. One just above his heart from a knife.

Known affiliations: None

Status: Alive

Summary: Much of Clint Barton's past is unknown. His parents were killed at a young age. He was then sent to an orphanage. When he was nine he and his brother ran away from the orphanage and joined the Circus. There he trained in all forms of Circus acts before settling on archery. At 11 he earns the name the Amazing Hawkeye. It is said that he never misses.

He leaves the Circus at nearly 16 years old. From there he disappears for six months. After that he reappears as an assassin for hire.

Phil could see even for one as young as this kid. The kid was bad news. Yet something ate at him. Officially the kid disappeared for six months. The exact same six months that Loke Lambert had spent with the Huntik Foundation.

He has heard rumors of all the good the Foundation had done. So what made him change so suddenly to this dark path. He drummed his fingers on the desk in thought. This kid could be an asset if they could find him. Or he could be a monumental failure. Either way he needed to be off the street. Especially with that kill rate of his.

With a sigh he started spouting off order. He would inform Fury later of his plans. Better to make sure everything was in place first.

A brief flow drew his attention to what was in his pocket. He pulled out the bead that he always carried. It was a sky blue bead with the kanji symbol for duty in it. While he couldn't remember when exactly he first got it. He knew it was important.

Now it was glowing. Something it had never done before. He wanted to know why.

Clint's POV

Another job done. It was his last one to do in Venice. If he was truthful with himself. He would say he was looking forward to leaving. There were too many memories in this city. Many of them happy. Others not so much. It was too much for him to stay in the city for long periods of time.

He was currently at a local bar. One he had frequented to gain information and jobs. He knew everyone that came in and out of the bar. It wasn't hard to know either.

This was a seeker bar. They all knew each other. Either by reputation or by name. It was one of the few left standing not run by the Organization. A safe haven for any seeker looking for information or just a drink.

So when a man in a suit entered his hand went for his knife immediately. He could see other seekers doing the same. Suits meant Organization and that spelled trouble for everyone. Not just him. Though he was on their top most wanted list.

The man seemed to be looking for someone as he searched the room. It didn't take long for their eyes to meet. The man made him uneasy and the feeling of the room spoke the same. No one wanted this suit in their bar.

The man made his way over to him after ordering a drink at the bar. Without his permission the man sat across from him. Clint could feel the puzzle box that was Springer moving around now.

His titan always had a way of knowing when he was uneasy. Sadly that particular titan wasn't the best in a fight. Chess partner and puzzle box yes. Fighter he was not.

His left hand had already enclosed on Freelancer. It would take a lot out of him but he would summon the titan as necessary. Even from his position with the man in front of him he could see the other seekers doing the same. They wouldn't let some outsider take one of their own. Not without a fight.

"Who are you? What do you want?" He growled out.

The man in the suit had blond hair not unlike his. His eyes were darker though more of a brown than his own blue grey. He didn't even take a sip of the drink he had ordered. Instead chose to watch Clint. This made him even more uneasy. It was like he was staring directly into what was left of his soul.

Finally the man said in a calm voice," I'm here to offer you a job, Mr. Barton."

It was only through years of training that he didn't flinch. No one in this country knew his true name. Most saw him as either Hawkeye or Loke Lambert. So for this unknown person to come in and call him out. It was discerning. Now more than ever he wished he brought his bow. Now matter how much trouble it would have caused him.

Instead of showing his fear he gave the man a hard glare and said," I don't know what you're talking about. Names Loke Lambert rank 1 freelance seeker."

There were seven seeker ranks. Each had its own perks and missions it could take alone. Rank 1 was the best of the best. He was the youngest to ever achieve rank 1.

The man didn't even seem to react or even be surprised. All he saw was a cold calmness. This guy was unsettling. If he wasn't Organization he would lead them right to this bar. One of the few safe heavens left in their world.

The man looked around noticing that everyone was on edge. He said," I am not here to cause trouble for your friends. As I have said I'm here to offer you a job."

Clint growled out," I have a job and you had best leave. Suits aren't welcome in this bar."

Again instead of an angry retort the man just stared at him. He could hear murmurs of agreement from the others. No one liked a suit. Organization or not this man was trouble.

"Suits are an issue? Would you rather I have come to offer you this job in jeans and a t-shirt?" The man asked.

Clint's eyes narrowed. This guy was making fun of him. Something else was bothering him. At first he had been able to ignore it. This wasn't the first time the bead glowed or warmed. This was the first time it had done so with such intensity. Clint could feel Murasame growing agitated. That was even more rare. The last time that had happened he had to flee the country. Murasame had killed thirteen people because they had severely injured him.

It didn't take long for the crow to appear on his shoulder. If the man in front of him was surprised he didn't show it.

"I didn't call you, Murasame," he said softly. The demon was free to enter and exit his body as it please. It rarely did unless it was time for food. He almost always used him as eyes in the sky on missions. More than once it had saved his hide.

Murasame's gold eyes glared at him as he said," Shino! It's a gem holder. It's Sosuke."

It took a moment for him to process what the insane demon had said. Murasame insisted on calling him Shino. This as far as he could tell was the name of the previous holder. Sosuke had the gem of duty. So that meant!

His eyes widened in shock. He couldn't stop the reaction. This suit was supposed to be anchor? Hell no! He would never accept him.

He glared fully at the man in the suit now. No way he was going to work for another head holder. Much less his supposed anchor. He heard about the closeness between Sosuke and Shino. They were like brothers and trusted each other more than anyone else.

If it had been before the betrayal of Swordsman or even before the fall of the Foundation he might consider it. Not now though. Not after all he had been through. He trusted no one.

Anything left to be said would have to  wait. The alarms in the bar went off signalling an Organization attack.

"Seekers prepare for combat level four! Civi get your ass out here!" The bartender was in full emergency mode.

Chapter Text

Caulson's POV

He watched as every member of the bar started turning over tables to create cover. As if having second thoughts the bartender shouted at the kid," Hawk get the civi out of here. You are the worst off out of us. The Organization would love to get their hands on you. So take the civi and run."

The boy next go stiff looking like he wanted to argue. Then comprehension came over his face.

The boy gave a solemn nod and said quietly," Good luck seekers."

No one seemed to hear him as the boy pulled them towards the back of the bar. As they stepped out men in suits came forward and the boy cursed. Before Phil could do it say anything a knife was drawn. Half a second later it buried itself into one of the suits chest. The other took cover and began radioing fire backup.

Barton pulled him down the alley by his arm. The look on his face told Phil all he needed to know. They were under attack. Phil drew his sidearm in preparation for the next group to attack.

Barton eyed his weapon before checking around the corner. A shout of," Raypulse ," and the brick exploded above their heads.

Coughing Barton said," Damn it. Organization dogs everywhere. We are numbered and outgunned."

There was something left unsaid there and Phil knew it. Barton grabbed at something in a pouch at his side," Fight for me, Lindorm!"

A bright light shone from a necklace that he pulled out. A dog like creature came forth. It didn't have legs instead it's tail was long and it floated.

Without a spoken order it attacked the men. Barton grabbed his arm and had them running in the opposite direction. The young man took him through all the back roads. It was like he knew everything like the back of his hand.

Once they were far enough away he said," We lost them. For the moment at least. Listen..."

Whatever was going to be said was lost when a light hit Barton. The blond stumbled his eyes fluttering and Phil only had a second to catch him before his legs gave out. Slowly he lowered the blond to the ground checking his pulse. It was flighty at best. Leaving him there was no longer an option. It would likely end in the sniper's death.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Fury's number. It only rang twice before his boss answer with an gruff," Fury."

Phil said hefting the the boy up so that he could get the out of there," Nick it's Phil. I need a pick up and fast. I also need a medical team to meet me once we arrive."

"Are you hurt? Or did you shoot the target? I do believe i said i wanted Barton dead if you couldn't bring him in."

That was putting it mildly. The director didn't want Phil to even try to bring the teenage assassin in at first. It had been him who convinced the man to let him try. There was something different about this kid.

He said calmly," The kid is alive and I still think that he would make a better asset than a dead body. He really didn't have much of a chance to answer me. I'll explain when I'm back on base"

It didn't take him long to reach the extraction point. Fury had sent him the usual jet to pick him up. The ride to the carrier was almost as short. His worry for the young man that was in his charge grew with each passing moment.

The medics came into the jet and immediately hauled the boy off to medical as soon as they landed. He knew he would have to go to Fury and debrief.

Clint's POV

When he came to he was laying on an uncomfortable bed. It only took him a brief moment to realize he wasn't home or in an Organization cell. Given who he was they would have just strung him up and left him to die.

His mind trailed back to the suit who he protected. Who was he with? SHIELD? Immediately he sat up and noticed one of two things. One he was in an infirmary. Two someone had taken out his hearing aids.

He couldn't stay here. No matter whether he was with SHIELD or not. He wasn't safe. The Organization would hunt him down until they killed him.

Right behind those thoughts he had gained his feet. His eyes scanning the room looking for his weapons or clothes. Currently he was only wearing thin hospital pants and shirt. The scars on his right shoulder were more pronounced under the white shirt. No doubt from the overuse of his power.

A quick survey of the room found Springer who was in his puzzle box form but none of his other titans. Also still missing were his hearing aids. Someone wanted to make sure he didn't leave without speaking to them first.

Well he was going to find his titans and get the hell out of this joint. The longer he stayed the more likely they were to realize he was awake. Or worse the Organization would find him.

On first instinct he tried the door. Unsurprisingly it was locked and he didn't have the strength to try a lockslip yet. He gazed around the room looking for any kind of exit. When looking up he spotted a vent. One that he could easily get open with a paperclip. On his chart he found said paperclip and got to work.

Within seconds he was in the vents silently crawling through them. His shoulder twinged with each movement but he ignored it.

Clint had to search four floors before he found his titans. They were sitting on someone's desk. Thankfully for him the office was empty. So he dropped into the office and quickly gathered the titans. Having no pockets made him have to slip them over his head. Power coursed through him when they touched his skin. Worry and concern filled him from the titan's bonds. He sent back gentle vibes as he entered the vents again.

He had just closed it and was getting ready to find an exit when the door opened. The man he protected from the bar entered. He had a phone to his ear but due to not having his hearing aids he couldn't hear what was being said. The man's body language didn't give anything away either.

The man seemed to grow agitated and then dug around in his pockets. What he came back with shouldn't have surprised him yet it did. His hearing aids. Great if he wanted to leave he would have to confront the man.

Then again... he could try to stay in the vents until he left. Then it would just be a matter of stealing them back. Or not.

The man did a double take on his desk. So he wasn't so incompetent that he wouldn't notice missing weapons. Though Clint was unsure if the man realized that each of the amulets were weapons in themselves. Though useless without a seeker. Unless it was Springer or Charot. They were unique titans that could do as they pleased.

The man glanced around his office obviously looking for how he got in. One would think for a secret agent he would know how to check up. Oh well makes his life easier.

As if sensing his thoughts the man looked directly at his vent. It made him freeze instinctively. What was this guy?

So far this agent had faced down a group from the Organization. Saw him summon Lindorm. Most people passed out from seeing that titan. Hell the man saw Murasame without an issue. Even Dante and Metz had problems with Murasame.

His heart hurt at the thought of his dying mentor. Metz had contracted a seeker disease. It was extremely rare and didn't have a cure or even a treatment. Last Clint heard the man only had a year maybe two left. That had been months ago. He missed his mentor and friend. The fact that he was unable to visit the man hurt the most.

When he left his mentor he knew he would never see the other again. It would put him in too much danger to even visit briefly. He had to settle from hearing news from Dante by visiting bars.

Now he was all alone and no one would come to help him any more. No one cared enough. If they did they had their own problems and couldn't be bothered. It was what unnerved him about this agent. He seemed so sure of both himself and his agency. Hell he even brought Clint to be healed. What kind of person did that?

The next thing that entered his mind was how in the hell was he going to leave? No doubt this man would hear him if he tried now. The way he stared at the vent made him wonder if he knew he was there.

Coulson's POV

His eyes stayed on the vent. He didn't hear anything from them. Yet he could feel a gaze on him. Barton had escaped a locked room without tampering with the lock. If he was in the vents that would explain how he got out and how the necklaces disappeared from his desk.

Phil took the hearing aids they confiscated in order to keep Barton from leaving. Keeping in sight of the vent he placed the hearing aids on the desk. Slowly he backed away and kept his hands out and open. If Barton was in there he wanted the boy to come down on his own.

After a few moments the vent opened and Barton dropped from the vent. So his hunch was right. Though by the tenseness of the boy's shoulders he was prepared to fight.

He signed out,' Those are your hearing aids. You can put them back in. We haven't tampered with them.'

A flare of mistrust went through his eyes. After a moment the boy took them and put them back in.

He said," Thanks. Why did you bring me here?"

Phil said being sure to keep himself between the Hawkeye and the door," You needed medical attention. You have been unconscious for three days."

"Why do you care? I'm just a weapon and a killer."

Phil's eyes narrowed as he struggled to keep calm. This boy saw himself as a weapon. It wasn't true. People like him were rare and could be redeemed if given the chance. He was going to give him that chance.

"I don't see you as a weapon. Yes you have killed and will likely continue if i let you leave. I was given a kill order for you. Instead I chose to change my orders. Join us. Fight for SHIELD. You will be able to choose your assignments."

:Most of all you won't be just a weapon. And maybe just maybe i can find out why my men had to die.: were his last thoughts on the matter as he waited.

Chapter Text

Clint's POV

He stared at the man. The last thing he was expecting was to still have that job offer. Especially for a group such as SHIELD.

Every major criminal in existence had heard at least of the organization. The last thing any of them wanted was to get on their radar. Those that did tended to disappear without rime or reason. Mistrust filled him.

He asked carefully," Why me? What do you want from me? You say you want me to join. Yet I have no reason to trust you."

Coulson replied," Everyone deserves a second chance. The reason we knew you existed was because of an op that went wrong. Loke Lambert also known as Clint Barton."

A failed mission. That's what put these idiots on his trail. Well that explained a lot. It didn't fill him with confidence about the group.

Still he could feel he honestly coming off the man. There wasn't an ounce of a lie in anything he had said. For the moment he felt he could at least trust what the man said.

He asked taking a calming breath," What happened?"

Coulson moved around him to his computer. He pulled up a video file.

A voice came across it sounding breathless," This is Storm calling Overwatch. Overwatch do you read?"

Caulson's voice came through next," Storm this is Overwatch. What's your status?"

They heard a strange cry of," Raypulse!"

His heart raced at the cry. It was the same cry that had nearly killed him. Several of which that had destroyed the coil in his shoulder. Now the power was slowly poisoning him.

A yelp came from Storm before he replied," Surrounded by hostile, sir. These guys aren't human. The mission is a fail and my team is down. I'm the only one left."

"Overwatch I'm sending you all the Intel we gathered. No matter what happens thank you," Storm said sounding resigned.

Clint said rubbing his eyes tiredly," That's the Organization. They took out Storm."

Coulson asked," What's the Organization?"

Telling this story would go against everything he ever held dear. That the Foundation would never forgive him. To bad for them the Foundation was dead.

He said after a moment," For centuries there have been been those with power. These powers allowed them to summon creatures. Many figure heads in history are thought to be seekers. They left behind their titans and stories for future seekers to find."

He paused for a brief moment to allow the information to sink in. He could see the man's mind processing the information. It would take time for it to fully sink in. When it did the man would undoubtedly have questions.

He continued," Groups have risen and fallen over the years. There have been too many to name all at one time. The most notable and longest lasting was the Huntik Foundation. They fought for the rights of Titans. To keep the world safe from seekers that would abuse the powers they had been given. I was once apart of the group as you well know from my file. About twenty or so years ago another group rose. It is called the Organization."

A frown crossed his face. He had only been with the Foundation for six months before it's fall. During that time he had faced the Organization time and time again. Yet he knew almost nothing about them. Dante and the others had been almost secretive on that information. It had been one of the reasons why the Foundation fell apart.

Coulson asked," What happened then?"

He replied his eyes glazing over," I happened. I was in Italy going to school when I met a young young female seeker. By accident we found a journal and an amulet. From their we were chasing a ghost. Hunted by members of the organization. If it wasn't for Dante teaching me I would have beebccaught long ago. They were after the journal."

"Why what is so important about the journal?"

He hesitated. If he trusted the man it could end badly for him. They could try to steal the journal. Then the amulet of Will would be in even more danger. Currently he knew were one of the legendary titans were. He had been the one to move it. He had to make a choice here. Either trust Coulson or to leave.

Sighing he said," It leads the way to the three legendary titans. They are required for the the major titan. The amulet of Will. That's what they are after. What so many Huntik Foundations operatives died. Died protecting the good people of the world."

His right hand twitched towards his amulets. If this went badly he might have to use the titans. The first titan he touched was Freelancer. Freelancer was his first titan that he summoned. It had served him well.

Coulson asked carefully," So it fell defending freedom? Why then did you become a killer?"

That question haunted at his conscience. Why become a killer? Why use his archer to take lives instead of saving them.

There was no simple answer for the question. To be honest he didn't know. He went down the path as a killer to keep an eye on the criminal underworld. To survive in the dangerous world.

He replied coldly," I did what I had to, to survive. Not everyone could die defending the Foundation. There are still some of us out there just waiting for our moment."

Not that he would be of much use. With his coils pretty much destroyed in his shoulder he was useless in a seeker war. He could attack using his favored bow but battling it out as a seeker was no longer possible. The more he used his abilities the shorter he made his life span.

Coulson asked," Could you contact them? To set up a line of communication between them and SHIELD."

He replied calmly not allowing his mistrust to show," I could put out the word. They won't trust you though. The Organization has people in every known organization and country across the world. To trust you would be to put their lives in danger. As well as the lives of their loved ones."

They had been betrayed by the ones they called their comrades. There was no way of telling who they could trust anymore. Seekers that once acted as teams now did solo missions. Trust had been broken and seekers lay scattered. Without a cause to guide them they would all eventually give up.

Coulson nodded his acceptance and they were left in silence. It took a long moment before Coulson said breaking the silence," Then we won't ask that of them. My offer still stands though. Try SHIELD. If you decide it's not a fit for you then we will give you a new life."

His hand was now held out to Clint. For a long moment the blond hesitated. Then slowly he took it. For now he would join SHIELD. Try to make a new life. First he would have to get the journal. It was no longer safe in Italy.

Dante's POV

Standing in his living room with bags of groceries in his arms he noticed the subtle moving about his home. If it hadn't been for the random attacks on his person he might not have noticed. Now he did. Someone had been here looking for something.

The first thing he checked was the drawer that held his war titans. Thankfully they had not been stolen. After going through the house he found nothing missing. He was about to enter the last room when he stopped. A sense born of running away from killers told him he was no longer alone.

A familiar voice said," Be at ease, Dante."

Dante breathed a sigh of relief as he said," Guggenheim."

Chapter Text

A/N reviews and comments are appreciated. They make for faster updates. Hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Dante's POV

Six months had passed since the fall of the Foundation. Like many of the other members he was keeping his head down. He avoided many of the seeker hangouts he once frequented. Though he still visited Metz often to check on how he was healing.

To his surprise Metz was slowly recovering. The curse caused by taking a legendary titan from its safe spot. It had been killing Metz for many years. Then it just up and disappeared.

The recovery was slow however. Metz was no longer bedridden but he couldn't leave the house yet. Nor could he used seeker powers. If the Organization were to attack he would be defenseless.

A few of the remaining Foundation seekers protected the man. They still saw him as their leader even if he couldn't fight. He was thankful for their help.

Dante would loved to have protected Metz himself. It just wasn't possible for him. Both Dante and Guggenheim were too easily recognized as Foundation operatives. If they were seen somewhere the place would immediately be searched. So both men kept their distance. Only speaking by email or holotome messages. Even then they were short.

He asked moving to place his bags on the counter," Guggenheim what brings you here? I thought we agreed to keep away from each other. At least until things were calmer."

Guggenheim nodded as he said," We did. Circumstances brought me back to Venice. Word from the freelance sector came in."

That had Dante's full attention. The freelance sector. Only one person was important enough for Guggenheim to come personally. Loke.

His student Loke Lambert would be eighteen this year. Dante had met the boy in Venice. He had found a journal owned by Eathon Lambert in one of the school dorms. At the time he had made it to Dante's old house. It had been luck on his part that he arrived when he did.

Despite his first encounter with titans being traumatic the boy had taken to it. He was a natural born seeker. Never before had he seen someone summon a titan on his first try. It was something he would likely never see it again.

Things had started off well but it was not to last. With each passing week the Organization had grown in strength. When the Foundation mounted one last attack upon them it was too late. The Professor or Simon as was his real name was too powerful. He had one of the three legendary titans. They didn't stand a chance. Loke had been so severely injured he was forced into retirement. The center that gave him his seeker powers was destroyed. Now instead of enhancing his life. It was killing him.

He asked his brown eyes meeting Guggenheim's blue ones," What is the word? Was he captured? Is he okay?"

Guggenheim held a hand as he replied his German accent softening slightly," Loke is fine. From what I understand he and a civilian got out before the fighting started. The bar was comprised however."

Relief and sadness flooded him. That bar was one of the few allies they had left. It hurt to see it go. Still Loke was alive and not captured. For that he was grateful.

He asked heading to the bar," You want something to drink? I guess we still have more to talk about."

Guggenheim said," Scotch on rocks if you have it."

That he did. Without the Foundation he always had a little something to drink around. He had gone back to private eye work. Not that he really needed the money. If he didn't do something with his time he would go insane.

Once they both had their drinks they moved into the living room. Dante settled into his favorite chair. While Guggenheim took the chair across from him. They were silent for a long moment.

Guggenheim said in a soft tone," Loke is not the same boy we knew, Dante. A year ago when he disappeared he took on his old name. It was only thanks to our contacts in another agency we found out. This isn't going to be easy for you to hear. It isn't easy for me to say."

Dante leaned forward. Guggenheim's softer tones only came out when it was serious. He usually had a harsh German accent. Times like this it was softened. It was the change that made him one of the favorites of the Foundation leadership.

Dante said cocking his head to the side curiosity getting the better of him," Just tell me, old friend. It can't be that bad. Loke was always different from the moment we met him. This isn't going to change how we see him."

The look of pure sadness made him stop. That look had not been seen since Guggenheim informed him that Metz had fallen ill. This was more serious than he originally thought.

The German said," I'm afraid it will Dante. Dante what do you know of the assassin called Hawkeye?"

That had the red headed seeker rhimijg for a moment. Like everyone else he had heard of the assassin. It was said that he never missed a shot. In itself that wasn't the oddest thing about the assassin. Instead it was his choice of weapons. Hawkeye preferred a bow and arrow to any kind of gun. He had deadly accuracy that any medieval nut would kill to have. What did any of that have to do with Loke?

He asked carefully choosing each word," What does a hire to kill archer have to do with Loke Lambert? He's just a kid. He would never hurt a fly."

"The Loke Lambert we know would not hurt someone that wasn't hurting him. This isn't the Loke Lambert we knew. Instead he's a young man that has been pushed too far. Loke Lambert's real name is Clint Barton. Who is known to few as Hawkeye."

It couldn't have been true. Guggenheim must have received bad intel. Organization must be trying to throw them off Loke's trail.

They all had known that Loke was not the kid's real name. Eathon never had a son before he disappeared. His girl was fully grown by now. Still his wife had taken in a strange blond a few weeks before he arrived at Dante's door.

No one knew where he had come from. Loke had never given out the information either. A haunted look entered his eyes anytime someone asked about it. Soon they just stopped asking. Whatever his past was it was dark.

To be this though. To be a killer. That was unthinkable for the boy he had known. There was no way that a man who had killed dozens of people was the seeker he had met.

Then again no one knew about what brought him to the Lambert's. Or why he disappeared like he had? In truth the boy could have gone back to Ireland. He would have been accepted and cared for.

Guggenheim said after a moment," I have done a little digging of my own. Hawkeye only appeared after Loke disappeared. The descriptions match. I'm sorry Dante. It's not what you wanted to here."

Dante rubbed his eyes tiredly as he inquired," Where is he now?"

"With SHIELD of all agencies. One of their agents found and recruited him. Honestly that boy can't pick a lifestyle..." Guggenheim continued on but Dante tuned him out.

SHIELD? Out of all the agencies that Loke could have chosen. He chose the one that was about as friendly as the Organization. The Foundation had butted heads with SHIELD for years. Both were trying to protect the world but going about it different.

Fury wanted the Foundation to join SHIELD. To become an elite squad of members that dealt with the seeker issues. They of course had refused. SHIELD had only been around for a few decades. The Foundation had been around for hundreds of years.

It had changed names over the years. Changed some of it's ideals with the passing of time. Many things remained a constant however. They were their own group. Never would they bow to another. Even scattered they kept true to their beliefs.

He asked breaking through Guggenheim's ramblings," Are we going to request aid from them? What is our plan from here?"

A true smile appeared on the elder man's face. It was tired but true. Something he had not seen since the fall. It was good to see again.

Guggenheim's response did not ease his fears," I do believe that is up to our young friend. The fate of the world rests on his shoulders."

Clint's POV

That evening he had left Couslon to his work. The man was preparing the necessary paperwork for him to join SHIELD. Apparently because of status as an assassin. There was a lot of paperwork that was required. Thankfully it was not his problem. No his problem was he had to get the journal from its hiding place. Then he had to find a way to restore it.

Restoring it would be his main issue. Seeker powers were out of question . The more he used them the faster he would die. So he would avoid using them as much as possible.

Using the rooftops of Venice he made his way to the school. It was the same prep school that he had spent a few short weeks at. Then he had met Dante and his life had changed forever. It had been nice while it lasted. Even when they were constantly on the run. Clint had felt like he belonged.

The injury he received in the final stand between Huntik and Organziatio had ended it. It wasn't something that would heal with time. To be honest he was lucky to have lived as long as he did. Most don't survive the initial break of the center. Those that did tended to kill themselves within a few weeks.

He would continue to live as long as he could. If he didn't that would mean the Organization had won. That was something he could not allow. They did not deserve to win.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the dark thoughts he moved into the library. When searching for something of his there is one place no one would think to look. The history section of the library. It was well known that he slept through the classes.

Quietly he made his way to the medieval times. In all the history texts it had been his favorite. Running his hand along the middle shelf just under it he felt what he was looking for. A seeker tome. It would only open to someone with the same blood as the one who put it there. As his hand touched it, it opened. A large journal feel into his hands.

The fear that he had of someone breaking the spell faded. Eathon's journal was back in possession. He would protect it with his life. Now he needed to get it back to Coulson. Maybe someone in SHIELD could fix the damage done. If so they could find the legendary titans. What remained of them at least. From there it would be a matter of gathering the lost members of Foundation. One final battle would decide the world's fate.