"No." There was more authority in his voice now. He dropped the clip and kicked it under the bed. "You don't just show up and... Jesus, Clint."

He flipped his arm around Clint's so that he was gripping Clint's arm, too. Blindly, he placed the gun carefully on the dresser behind him. He brought that hand up now to Clint's shoulder.

"Clint, please just tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you don't tell me." Because what Clint was asking for, he couldn't do that. He wouldn't.