Phil watched the young man on the other side of the bars. He could see the look in his eyes. It was one he had seen many times before. The look of someone who didn’t think they had anything to lose. That maybe their life wasn’t worth much in this world. Clint Barton wasn’t a common criminal. Common criminals didn’t have proficiency with a bow that would put most Olympic atheletes to shame. Others saw a kid that should be locked up and forgotten. Phil Coulson saw potential that could be molded. Clint Barton needed someone to give him a purpose.
Clint Barton was an arrow and Phil Coulson was the bow.