Clint had seen that look before. When he had begun at SHIELD, it used to cause him to lose his train of thought. Out of fear, some weird wave of respect. But over the years, he always met that gaze with a challenging one of his own. The agent did the same as he did before. He wasn't going to back down from his stance. "A couple broken ribs isn't an injury, it's a pain in the ass, Coulson." If he was going to prove himself as a person worthy of being a part of the Avengers he had to do whatever it took. He had been the last to become a part of them because he had been too busy being a tool in the plot to end humanity. Regardless of what anyone said, if Selvig could have developed a fail safe. Clint Barton could have held back in some way.

An annoyed growl escaped his throat as he pushed Coulson away, moving towards the gym door. "Put me on the bench. See if I give a fuck, Phil." He continued walking, not bothering to look over his shoulder at his handler as he swung the door open.