Phil stood his ground. Phil had been shot at in the desert. One man was never going to intimidate him. Still, he couldn't hide the startled look when Clint's eyes started to change. Something was wrong. Something weird was happening and Phil had to be dreaming or drugged or something, because that's not normal.

"I can't. I can't shoot you. How could you think that I could?" Anything else. He'd do anything he could to help Clint, but he wouldn't kill him. He couldn't do it. Couldn't Clint see that it was cruel of him to ask for that? Phil didn't want to hurt people. He didn't want to kill anyone. He wanted to help them.