Clint took in another deep breath before pulling away from him. This had been...a complete waste of his time.

"'m good." He ran his hands down his face, concealing the look of disappointment on his face. He wanted this. He had to have known that Phil wouldn't have given it to him without an explanation. Not like Barney. Phil was a genuinely good person. Clint didn't believe those existed anymore. He shook himself out for a moment, turning away from Phil as he flexed his hands. Rolled his shoulders. Tried to regain himself, his composure before he allowed himself to fly off the handle and do something he'd regret. Allow something to happen that he would never be able to forgive himself for. He could learn to live with Barney's death -- he was his brother, he missed him. He loved him, it didn't mean he had to like him. Love and like were two different things in Clint's book especially when it came to his brother.

"The attack wasn't that very exciting. The two other people I was with died on scene...I was supposed to be in the hospital for weeks." He was released forty-eight hours after he was admitted because nothing was too life-threatening it seemed. "You don't believe a word of this, do you?"