Clint Barton walked down the steps lugging behind him two purple duffle bags, a purple suitcase, and a purple backpack. He wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day. He was starting at Shield High School. It’s a private school that takes in any student no matter what your grades are as long as you can do any type of sport and be at the top of your age group. Clint would have to go back up to get his archery gear before leaving with his foster father.
You see Clint had been in foster care for just over two months at this point after being tossed out of a car for pissing off the carnival that he’d been with since he was eight. Clint hadn’t been to school since he was in the third grade and that was probably why he was dreading heading to the school. Well, that and he would be staying in the dorms.
“Clint make sure to remember to put everything beside the door before coming to eat.” His foster father, Nick Fury, rounded the corner and saw Clint and lowered his voice. Clint nodded moved to place his bags by the door.
Sometimes he wondered why his foster father didn’t get a glass eye and stuck with an eye patch. Though Clint figured that it did keep his students in line when he gave you that one-eyed stare that seemed like he was looking into your soul.
Clint climbs back up the steps and pulls his archery gear down the steps as well. His bow and arrows case was a hard backpack with a tube attached to the side of it. The rest of his equipment was in another case that was rigid but not hard.
Once Clint made it into the kitchen he saw that Fury had already made his plate and one for Clint and had two table settings all laid out. Clint came and sat down across from him before digging into his breakfast.
Once the two were done they loaded up the car before heading out of town to the school. The high school rested on approximately 270 acres and while there was both an elementary school and a middle school that was associated with the school they weren’t on that land. No, the high school was ten buildings used for classes, five dormitories, a park, and three recreational buildings along with every type of sports field and practice area needed for any sport that you could think of. Fury let him out in front of his dorm before heading to his office.
Clint put his backpack on before sliding both cases onto one shoulder. He slipped his equipment bag over the handle on his suitcase before grabbing the duffles and making his way into the dorm. He swiped his ID and made his way into the building. He noticed that he was in the co-ed building and after remembering which dorm he was going to be in made his way to the elevator.
He made it up to the third floor and at the far end of the hall spotting room 322, his new dorm. He knocked on the door with his elbow hoping that his roommate was already there to open it because at that point he wouldn’t be able to open it himself because bags were starting to slip down his arms. The door opened slowly to reveal male with close-cropped brown hair and already in the school’s uniform, which he needed to go to the school store to get it. Though he did admit that the purple blazer was going to be his favorite thing about the uniform.
“Are you Clinton Barton?” The male opened the door to allow Clint to see the two beds, desks, and wardrobes.
Clint nods and the boy moves to allow Clint into the room. He points to the bed that was just a mattress and plain white sheets. Clint drops the duffles on it rests the two cases against the bed before turning to his roommate.
“Clint Barton.” Clint stuck out his hand.
“Phillip Coulson. Call me Phil.” Phil took his hand and shook it.
Clint starts to unpack his stuff and places his clothes in the wardrobe, shoves his archery equipment under the bed, and pulls his semi-decent laptop out of his bag to charge. He pulls his blanket, pillow, and stuffed eagle. The blanket and pillow were both purple with a bullseye on them. The stuffed animal was a beanie baby eagle that's wings were the US flag. The white on it was slightly discolored telling how long he'd had it.
“So I'm assuming that this is your first semester?” Phil helped Clint shove his bags into his suitcase before shoving it all under Clint's bed.
“It is. I was informed that my uniform would be covered by my scholarship.” Phil nodded as a huge bang came from down the hall followed by a woman screaming the name Stark.
“Great I thought Stark wasn't supposed to get here till Sunday.” Clint gave him a skeptical look.
“Anthony Stark son of the board of directors member Howard Stark. He’s a bit of a menace and normally doesn't arrive till right before classes start. The girl who screamed was Natasha Romanoff and she's a martial arts scholarship student.”
Clint nods. He wondered why his new roommate was being so helpful and he started to run his fingers along the sides of his shirt. He'd not even asked about why he was wearing hearing aids which were normally the first thing out of someone's mouth when they meet him. Clint hears a knock at the door and Phil walks over and opens the door. Clint looks over Phil's shoulder to see a red-headed woman who was wearing a tank top and jeans.
“Phil, did you get assigned a new roommate this year?” She asked looking directly at Clint.
“Yes, I did Natasha, meet Clint Barton he's an archery scholarship student. Clint meet Natasha Romanoff.” Phil introduced. Clint nodded to her and she didn't make him shake her hand.
Natasha sat down at Phil's desk. “Do you want to know what Stark did this time, and I swear that Pepper is going to kill him one day.”
“What did he do this time?” Phil dropped down onto his bed and looked like he wanted to strangle Stark without even hearing what he'd done.
“Well don't leave the dorm until Pepper and Sam come back with all of our IDs. Stark reset the whole buildings swipe access and well they can't figure out why they couldn't get the old ones to work so they are reissuing everybody's.”
“Alright. I guess we're going to have to wait to go get your uniform then. Natasha who else has made it here?” Clint's eyes widened when he realized that he would be meeting all the people that Natasha and Phil called friends. His hands clenched down on his shirt before he relaxed them and he dove for his bow case before running out of the dorm and down to the first floor and out the building. Clint raced off to where he had seen the archery/rifle ranges to have been when he'd visited in the summer.
The archery range was set with the back wall also being the back wall of the riflery range. The rage had gray walls that had an area that was equal to the lobby that was set up for people to watch what was going on in the range and was protected by plexiglass so that no-one watching got hurt. There were twelve targets set up at the end of the range with the shooting line painted on the floor in purple spray paint.
He goes to the last target, set up, and started to shoot. His bow was a beautiful purple and black recurve bow. Each shot landed around the bullseye and when he ran out of arrows he walked and pulled them out of the target and started again. He did this ten times before his fingers started to bleed and continued even as his bowstring was stained red. After thirteen rounds he went to pull back the string and when he released it, it scrapped down his right arm leaving a red welt that had blood beaded upon it.
After twenty-five rounds, he could no longer pull the string back and slid to the ground. His thoughts raced back to what had caused him running out here in the first place. He needed to get away from people that he didn't know the intentions of. People that seemed nice, but he knew better than to trust. The last person he trusted tossed him from a moving car. Before he passed out he heard the door being pushed open and then someone rushing towards him.