"Guess I should be glad that you're being selfish for once then, sir." Clint didn't want to die.
He just didn't want to be something used against the only people he knew, maybe even loved. A sentiment he didn't exactly express unless you looked into the undertones of his interactions. The fact that he didn't hide away in his "nest" away from the other Avengers. Or Phil for that matter. Coulson had initially been the first person in the entire world to ever recruit him for anything (that Clint accepted that was). It was the same for Clint in some matter. He'd be selfish in Coulson's shoes, but he had other tools if Coulson were ever the one to become a mind puppet for anyone. He wouldn't be able to shoot to kill, however. Phil...he had been the first person that Clint Barton had called friend and sincerely meant it.
He didn't want to dwell too much on the fact he would ask Phil, out of everyone even Tasha, to be the one to kill him. Even if he knew the other man would never do such a deed. Maybe that was why he would even consider asking him at all as he drew in a deep breath.
That seemed to be the tipping point his body. His breath shook off as the nausea finally got to him before he could really say anything else. He did make the attempt to make sure most of Phil wasn't left with an awesome story to tell Hill or Fury as he vomited to the side of the other man, dirtying Coulson's pants leg which was really the only victim in all of this right now as his body trembled from it. There was no relief from it. The only thing it did was slightly make his headache even worse then it already was. Concussions. Clint had to love them...not so much. Not really. "Fuck, Phil. Sorry..." It just made Clint kick himself a little more. After all, Coulson put up with a lot from the man. He had heard people joke around that Coulson was just a glorified babysitter and this was not helping the point Clint usually tried to argue against.
The sudden need to go to sleep was also something he was fighting but short of turning into a narcoleptic; Clint didn't see that happening in the foreseeable future as he slowly started to reason that perhaps the original destination of medical was something the pair of them should really look into.
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He just didn't want to be something used against the only people he knew, maybe even loved. A sentiment he didn't exactly express unless you looked into the undertones of his interactions. The fact that he didn't hide away in his "nest" away from the other Avengers. Or Phil for that matter. Coulson had initially been the first person in the entire world to ever recruit him for anything (that Clint accepted that was). It was the same for Clint in some matter. He'd be selfish in Coulson's shoes, but he had other tools if Coulson were ever the one to become a mind puppet for anyone. He wouldn't be able to shoot to kill, however. Phil...he had been the first person that Clint Barton had called friend and sincerely meant it.
He didn't want to dwell too much on the fact he would ask Phil, out of everyone even Tasha, to be the one to kill him. Even if he knew the other man would never do such a deed. Maybe that was why he would even consider asking him at all as he drew in a deep breath.
That seemed to be the tipping point his body. His breath shook off as the nausea finally got to him before he could really say anything else. He did make the attempt to make sure most of Phil wasn't left with an awesome story to tell Hill or Fury as he vomited to the side of the other man, dirtying Coulson's pants leg which was really the only victim in all of this right now as his body trembled from it. There was no relief from it. The only thing it did was slightly make his headache even worse then it already was. Concussions. Clint had to love them...not so much. Not really. "Fuck, Phil. Sorry..." It just made Clint kick himself a little more. After all, Coulson put up with a lot from the man. He had heard people joke around that Coulson was just a glorified babysitter and this was not helping the point Clint usually tried to argue against.
The sudden need to go to sleep was also something he was fighting but short of turning into a narcoleptic; Clint didn't see that happening in the foreseeable future as he slowly started to reason that perhaps the original destination of medical was something the pair of them should really look into.