beenunmade | (no subject)

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Loyalty.

It was one of the many words that echoed in his mind. Usually it was loyalty to SHIELD. Loyalty to the Avengers. To Natasha. To Phil. He really only had simple loves in his life and things that could be easily pinpointed if someone were to look in the right direction. Even if he wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. But it was clear in his eyes and the way he carried himself around the others that this wasn't a temporary place for him. He intended to stay and he intended be (somewhat of) a team player. He wasn't chosen for his good looks, after all. Even if he did say so on something of a daily basis. It was all in jest.

He wasn't really in a jesting mood now. Loki hadn't exactly sent him on a mission. There wasn't a failure to utilize the specialist because, to Clint, Loki hardly failed. Acting on his own accord wasn't something Clint did. Acting in the best interest of ensuring Loki, ensuring that they gained some part of an upper hand was. SHIELD was still in shambles in his mind. The helicarrier was a good month or two from being passenger ready and most SHIELD agents had been forced to head for the solid ground of headquarters. Those surviving at least. The unfamiliar faces of new recruits littered the hallway. Out of necessity. There hadn't been a rush on getting more bodies -- the recruits that had been flagged previously but never seen the light of day were just finally getting their time to shine because SHIELD had lost so many. And Clint? When he wasn't usually running around terrorizing the junior agents or pushing the buttons of those that he knew -- he was either with the Avengers, in Medical, or on the range.

Today it wasn't any of those. His clouded blue eyes were shrouded by the sunglasses he hid behind almost daily. Somewhere along the way he had discovered that people found him slightly enigmatic when he was wearing them. After a visit to dictionary dot com; Clint had reasoned it was a good thing in his eyes. Now it was a benefit. He walked with purpose -- the technology he carried wasn't very astounding if somewhere were to compare it to the like that Stark carried. A single drive to save the documents he wanted so he could disappear undetected and offer what he found to Loki. Nothing extravagant. Just something simple. A show of his loyalty and obedience. Clint turned on his heels, around a corner and if someone paid attention it was almost as if he had disappeared. In reality, he had gone up the air ducts that he knew so well. Stealth was, after all, Clint Barton's forte as he moved above everyone before stopping above a room that housed a majority of the personnel files. One singular guard was easily knocked out and dragged off into a corner as Clint bound and gagged him before walking over to the computer interface.

Easy. The man slid his sunglasses to the top of his head as he brought up the files he needed, beginning the tedious upload onto the storage device before taking a step back. With part one in process, part two could begin. One storage device to house the information. Another to plop a virus in the middle of SHIELD's files. It wasn't Clint's typical approach. His approach would be blowing things up. But to do things covertly, without alerting SHIELD to his presence -- it required more espionage than Clint was accustomed too. Once the upload was finished, he just deposited the second part before sliding back on his shades once more before stepping into the hallway, pocketing the device and tossing the other in the hallway trash before starting to walk away.

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The simple in-and-out wasn't turning out to be as simple as he initially hoped it would be. Of course, their day to day rapport with each other was easily avoidable for perhaps a day or so. He honestly hadn't put too much into thinking Coulson actually looked forward to the moments when he would come in uninvited to his office when he needed something to do. Or someone to be around that wasn't any of the Avengers. Even though, in his right state of mind; he considered Phil part of the team. The norm went something of the way of him just going out of his way to make sure Phil was still alive -- rather than him discovering his friend was somehow a hallucination his mind had concocted to deal with his handler's passing. It wasn't normal, per say. But in SHIELD nothing was truly "normal". The part of him that thought Phil was a hallucination for the better part of a couple weeks (upon hearing of his death and revival); was the part that blamed himself for it.

But that part was silenced now.

He honestly had no intention to go over to Coulson's office to bother him. His mission was completed in his mind. SHIELD wasn't exactly coming up for a hostile takeover -- but they would be severely crippled for a while. Even more so then when Clint had first walked into headquarters that day. Clint continued moving through the halls, avoiding familiar faces that wanted him to stop. To ask him questions about the range, handling a certain weapon or two. Or people who just wanted to socialize. He didn't have time for it. "Hawkeye" was nearly ready to sprint out of there if the people kept on trying to stop him before a singular voice slowed him down. Slowed. Not stopped. The man glanced over his shoulder at Coulson, brow quirking up in question. "Coulson, anything you need?" His stride slowed to a stop as he fully turned to the senior agent, folding his arms across his chest. "Or did you just miss me?" He didn't smirk, his tone was sarcastic...if not slightly forced. Right now, Phil Coulson was an obstacle that would not go away if he were just ignored. Through the fog in his mind, he knew that much.

Of course Phil looked forward to seeing Clint. He might not look forward to some of the things Clint did, but the visits themselves were becoming a daily highlight for him. His worrying about Clint wasn't really going away, but at least knowing that he would see the man every day meant that he would see if he seemed to be getting worse. More than that, it reminded him that Clint was alive and still there with him.

"Where have you been?" It was like some kind of tunnel-vision. Of all the things on his mind, all the things going on around them, all he could do was walk after Clint and try to get some answers.

"You've been gone for days. Did something happen?" If nothing had happened, Clint was getting some kind of terrible punishment that Phil had yet to come up with to teach him a lesson about what happened when he worried his friends. He caught up to Clint and grabbed his arm in a hard grip. He was an inch away from slapping those stupid sunglasses off of Clint's face. Something was off. Something was incredibly off in the way Clint was acting.

He reached for Clint's sunglasses.

It wasn't necessarily something Clint would think however. But he usually would guess that was par for the course when it came to being a handler. Sometimes they would just have the troublesome agents, who enjoyed spending time coloring on their finished piles of paperwork with a purple crayon. That was the norm for them. Clint trying to be the "lone wolf" and Phil being around to make sure he didn't crash and burn. It wasn't something they quite planned, but it worked.

"Out. I didn't realize I had a curfew," his tone was mocking as he looked on at Phil. Of course, he couldn't tell what emotions planned through his eyes. No playful glint that they usually carried. If he weren't wearing his sunglasses, it would be a different story. There was no sarcasm on his face that played openly through his voice. Clint was annoyed, needless to say. The "Avenger's" body tensed up when Phil grabbed his arm in a tight grip. "If you needed me you could've called." Not that he would have answered. Clint had received several calls from people in SHIELD, a joke of a text from Steve who was barely learning how to use his own cell phone. A couple messages from Stark regarding some upgrades to his bow. None of which were answered. None of which he cared about.

Registering Phil's action to take off his sunglasses before putting his free hand over Phil's was the only move he could make that didn't actually have him cause his handler physical harm in the middle of the hallway. "Nothing happened. I'm fine. Is that all you need, sir?" Of course, his presence was supposed to be something slightly undetected. If anyone else had put their hands on him, Clint wouldn't have thought twice. But it was Coulson and he fought through the binds in his mind that made him Loki's attack dog not to hurt the man in front of him. He'd sooner hit Rogers than Coulson.

Clint was definitely the only crayon-wielding agent that Phil knew of. He definitely wanted to keep it that way, too. The world couldn't handle two Clint Bartons. Phil certainly couldn't, fond as he was of the one.

"I did call you." He looked at his hand in Clint's, but disregarded it for now. "Stop being ridiculous. You live here. No one has seen you in days. I couldn't track your location. You were completely off the grid. Where were you?" Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. This wasn't Clint. Somehow, this just wasn't his agent. It couldn't be, because Clint didn't act like this. He was saying the right things, but it was all wrong. This was a caricature of him.

"Clint, take off those ridiculous glasses and talk to me." If he took his hand off of Clint's arm, he could get to his taser and tase him within ten seconds, easy. He'd rather it didn't come to that, but he wasn't letting Clint out of his sight until he had an explanation that he was satisfied with. He certainly wasn't shooting until he had more information, but the taser didn't do anything permanent. "That's an order."

"Guess I missed the call." It would certainly...be the first time. Even with his attitude, Clint was hardly the type to skip over answering a call from anyone. Especially Phil. His body had yet to release any tension...this conversation was going on far too long. "Does it matter?" He paused, feeling his body shift slightly once Phil took his arm off of him before separating himself away from him. "I'll check in next time, boss. Promise." It was a peace offering, a hope that Phil would take it and leave. But deep down, Clint knew that wouldn't please Coulson at all. In a world like this one, going off the grid for even a day was one day too many. "Visiting an old friend...outside of SHIELD. I do have those." No. He didn't. The only two people who would know that was Tasha and of course, Coulson. The people outside of SHIELD that Clint knew, he would be more than happy to forget about. He sometimes did when he was caught up in working for the government agency.

"You're ordering me to take off my sunglasses?" He gave a little laugh, shaking his head. "Come off it, Coulson." He made move for his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and checking the time. Making a play that he was actually going to go off and do something. "Let's put a pin in it. You can berate me later about not answering my phone, I've got somewhere to be." He really did have only a short amount of time before security found the unconscious guard. Before the virus was even detected. Before his presence in the building was connected to both events.

Yes, Phil did know that Clint had no friends outside of SHIELD. It really wasn't helping Clint's entire story. "You think it doesn't matter when one of my agents disappears for days?" Not that that wasn't a big deal either way, but that wasn't why Phil had been so worried. This wasn't about the job at all. This was Clint. It was personal.

"And you have about as many friends outside of SHIELD as I do, so take off those glasses and give me a better story or I will have you detained and psychoanalyzed until your brain drips out, because the only place you have to be is here." He spoke calmly and rationally, like a boss asking an employee to empty the trash.

This wasn't Clint. The real Clint could be dead, for all he knew. This could be some clone or impostor, but it wasn't his Clint. He had to worry about security first and Clint second, even if it was difficult to kick his brain into gear. Still, something in him made him grab for his taser instead of his sidearm. Whatever this thing was, it could be able to lead him to Clint. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that Clint could still be alive, either inside of whatever he was looking at or somewhere else.

Phil's agent wasn't going to be recognizable if he had taken off his sunglasses. He was Loki's weapon right now. His tool. The story he told when he opened his mouth wasn't something that Clint would have likely said any other time. He wouldn't usually come up with stories when it came to Phil because the man knew him more than anyone else. "I think you shouldn't let it get to you when they don't, Coulson. Worrying isn't a good look on you."

He scoffed, body ready to turn away from the handler. "Ha! That's bullshit, Coulson." Clint knew he was serious. He knew he would do that because the man had done much worse in his employ with SHIELD. A part of Clint was always glad that he was on the same side as the other man but right now? RIght now he wasn't on the same side. All Clint could think of was how well he could serve Loki; bring down SHIELD and the Avengers. Give the God the kingdom he deserved even if he died in the process. Just like before.

When Phil's hand went to the taser. The first thing Clint could think was to kill the man. The second thing was that he was glad the man hadn't went for his handgun -- the normal part of Clint had thought the last bit. Even if he had grabbed his handgun he would have been fine with it right now. He knew not acting immediately would get him in trouble. Instead of hurting him like his body and the mind in action that wanted to just get back to his new base. Instead he turned. He ran, pushing people to the side but he moved his hand to grab his handgun from the holster.

Phil felt his jaw tighten. He had to remind himself that this wasn't Clint. Clint wouldn't talk to him like this. Not with that tone. Then he had to remind himself that he couldn't kill this person. Clint could be in there or they could know where he was. He couldn't kill him, but he couldn't let him get away, either. He had to clamp down on that worry. He could deal with it later. Right now, he was the job.

His hand shook for just a moment as he moved for the taser, but it was steady by the time he gripped it. He breathed in and out, ready for whatever this Clint-who-wasn't-Clint was going to do. He couldn't rely on security right now. It was just the two of them.

The minute Clint was moving, Phil was sprinting after him. The taser only got one shot and he needed it to count. He had to get in close. Once he got close enough, he shot it at Clint while they were still running.

The specialist had the intention to keep running, to make it to the door and keep on going. But of course, Phil wouldn't let him leave without him chasing after him. The younger man kept on his feet as he looked briefly over his shoulder just as Phil shot off the taser. The shot narrowly making it's target just as tried to speed around a corner. This time of his body tensing up with nerves, his muscles clenched as he ran straight into the wall. He huffed out a breath, biting back the pain as he reached his shaking arm to pull out the barbs that had been launched from Coulson's weapon.

It didn't lift the fog. Clint still moved to get to his feet before falling back on his knees. "Fuck..." That might be something Clint would have said as he attempted to use the wall as something to push himself up on. His head snapped in Coulson's direction before just pushing himself off the wall, barreling towards the other man.

Clint really wasn't going anywhere without Phil chasing until Phil was unconscious or dead. It was how he did his job and right now his job was stopping Clint. At least the taser slowed him down enough that Phil could fully catch up. Running into a wall probably hurt, but getting shot would hurt more, so Phil wasn't exactly concerned.

Though it was actually a little concerning when maybe-not-Clint tried to get up and failed. "Clint?" He only had a fraction of a moment to react as the man was suddenly running at him, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He shifted his balance to the side and went in for a swift punch to the head. He just needed to keep this thing preoccupied until the guard watching the security cameras saw the fight.

He didn't let Phil's singular question get to him, even if it just caused Clint to fight the fog even more. Clint's teeth knocked in his skull when Coulson's fist hit the side of his head. Even if usually Clint would say his sunglasses were unable to be knocked from his head. They did the same, finally skittering across the ground as Clint's balanced swayed as he moved passed Coulson by him after being knocked in the head. The knock to the head was enough to cause Loki's hold to stray for a mere moment. He didn't exactly move to retaliate against the other agent as he tried to gain a more steady foot. It wasn't exactly what he had planned the moment he stepped into SHIELD headquarters but in the back of his mind, ignoring the steady voice that told him his orders. Told him his goal. This was the best course of action as Clint's eyes focused to the world around him once again before turning towards Phil, flexing his fists once again.

Moving into the air ducts with someone standing there was foolish. The fight was obviously around seen by security because he had heard the heavy footfalls of security echoing through the hallway. His clouded eyes studied Coulson with a sort of vacant disdain. It held more recognition than it did before. "Phil..." His balance was more unsteady then it had been before, but he still wanted to leave. It was all that was echoing through his mind.

The moment that the glasses were knocked off, Phil finally saw what was happening. He'd known that it couldn't be Clint in the driver's seat in there if it was Clint and that was just he confirmation. He saw, for just a moment, Clint was almost Clint again and he remembered how Natasha had fixed it last time. Okay, a swift, hard knock to the head. Phil was strong, but Clint was stronger. He knew he was outmatched when it came to muscle and there wasn't much to knock him into even if Phil was confident that he could. That left one very painful, very bad idea.

Fast as lightning, Phil drew his sidearm as he closed in on Clint. He drew his hand back and pistol-whipped Clint in the head. He'd deal with the consequences later. A concussed Clint was better than a brainwashed one, that was for sure.

"Sorry." It wasn't his most sincere apology.

Phil acted faster than Clint reacted, needless to say.

But there was a purpose. There was a reason why Clint didn't move to guard himself. The electrocution, the hit to the head. All caused enough damage to give him a way to at least hold himself back a little. It wasn't like the first time when Tasha had been the one to slam his head against a metal railing. The sniper's arm moved a fraction of a second too late when he saw Phil's arm swing back before it collided with his head. The snap. A fumble. Some other football terms Clint never really paid attention too as he was knocked to the ground. His head was throbbing already the moment he tried to pick himself back up again. Remaining on all fours as the world spun around him. The voice commanding him to move forward, to fight, to kill Coulson was fading. But it was still there.

"Boss," Clint's voice came out rough. Almost unrecognizable to himself because it was him speaking. Not the thing that Loki had put back in him. Not the weapon. Clint tried to get back to his feet again before just dropping down and letting his head lay against the cold floor. Slowly drifting in and out of consciousness. "Phil."

He actually winced himself as the barrel of the gun hit Clint's head. He was going to need a lot of ice and painkillers. He watched Clint go down, stepping back warily. The punch hadn't worked, but he hoped this was enough. Much more of a blow to the head and he might actually do serious damage to Clint.

As soon as Clint spoke, Phil knew it had worked. He knelt down next to Clint, arm going out to touch him. His hand settled on Clint's arm, squeezing. "I'm here. Stay with me." He kept his hand on Clint as he lowered himself to the ground. Clint was okay. He was here and he was okay and Phil was finally letting himself relax.

"I might have given you a concussion, so I need you to stay awake, Clint." Okay, he did feel a little bad about having to hit Clint so hard, but how else was he going to fix it? It was the only method that they could be sure of, since it worked earlier. "Come on. I've got to get you down to medical so they can take a look at you."

Clint wanted to do anything but stay conscious right at the moment. Luckily he had been one of those people who knew what it was like to have a concussion and the regular steps after having one inflicted upon you as he struggled to keep his eyes open. His eyes were still a bit clouded, the trickster's control receding slowly from him. He had been lucky. Tasha was no where near as warm as Phil was. The reassuring squeeze on his arm kept him there rather than fading into the black. His voice kept him focused on something that wasn't the drilling sensation behind his eyes as his hand squeezed into a fist as he tried to push himself back to his feet now. Moving to get to his feet so Coulson didn't have to amusingly try to get him up by himself.

"...might have?" He fought back a laugh that rattled through his entire body. "You...smacked a pistol against the side of my head, Coulson." Clint's smile tugged at his lips as he tried to keep his outward mood light-hearted. It happened again. At least no one was dead this time as he managed to roll himself into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall. "How 'bout medical just comes to me and I take a nap?" He leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at Coulson as the virus he had put into SHIELD's systems finally reached the part of the stupid computers (Clint never honestly paid attention to any of the technical stuff) and the lights began flickering on and off. Cameras slowly shutting off; one by one.

Phil could see Clint coming back to himself more and more. It was a huge relief, even if he was still having to remind himself that Clint was okay now. He kept his grip on Clint tight as he moved around. The last thing Clint needed was to fall and hurt himself even more.

He moved to sit next to Clint against the wall. "Well, I wasn't going to let you leave. You've been entirely off the grid for days. I'm not losing you to some idiot who dresses like a teen-aged vampire again." He leaned forward to look at Clint's face, hand coming up to grip the agent's chin. "Let me see. I tried not to hit you too hard, but that punch wasn't enough. It had to be harder than that."

And then the lights started to go out. He looked up sharply, before turning back to Clint. He wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together here. "Do I need to take care of this or can the rest of them handle it? Because I'd rather not leave you alone like this. The last thing you need is brain damage."

Clint didn't try to hide the smile on his face. He had known the reason why...he had avoided Phil when he was under Loki's control was for the very reason that; Phil would know. "Teenaged vampire? I might save that somehow for later." Not that he would say it in Thor's presence. Tony could get away with insulting the lightening god's brother, but he did it just barely. Clint wasn't so sure about himself as the archer smirked, turning his head to look over at his handler. "At least you know when I act weird. No one else seemed to suspect anything, go figure." He moved his head up when Phil guided it up with his hand. "So the logical choice was a pistol? We need to figure out a better way to deal with this stuff." Not that he was thinking 'for the next time'. But Clint hadn't thought there was going to be another time the first time. The world was uncertain now and things happened every single day that made it so anything could spiral into something uncontrollable.

His eyes didn't leave Coulson's face when the other man looked up at the flickering lights. "You can go if you want too. I'm sure people will need someone with a level head managing the others, or Fury just might need it." He paused for a moment. He remembered what he had done. It was exactly like the last time. "But it's nothing too big. Computer virus. IT guys could take care of it under four hours." Meaning...yes they could live without you Phil. They'll just be running around like idiots for a little bit.

Phil leaned it, looking right into Clint's eyes. "It was the only hard thing I could get my hands on. It's not like I can overpower you. I needed to take you by surprise." He turned Clint's head to check the impact point. "Of course I noticed you were acting weird. I never lose track of you for more than a few hours and even that's usually due to me not actually looking." But he was starting to think he might need to implant some kind of GPS tracker inside of Clint's body so that he can never do this to Phil again. Phil didn't care if it was his fault or not. Either way, he'd really been scared that Clint was dead somewhere. He wasn't letting that happen again, not outside of a mission at least.

"They'll be fine without me. Plenty of them can use the experience, anyway." He wasn't leaving Clint for anything short of the building would explode if they didn't stop it. He moved Clint's head back so that he could look into his eyes again. "I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner. I was looking, believe me. I noticed you were gone by the end of the first day." He couldn't have Clint thinking that he hadn't noticed. Even if no one else had seen him acting weird or noticed he was missing, Phil had seen it right away.

"You could've..." Slamming him against the wall would require more bodily strength then he knew Phil had. Not doubting his skills. Clint just knew he was stronger then him and Phil was still getting over the wounds he had endured from his encounter with Loki. "It's okay. I would've used it too...if I was in your shoes." He cracked a small grin as he allowed Phil to move his head to the side. It wasn't caved in, so he had that going for him. The skin was broken and bruising already. But Clint was thankful for it. "Guess I'm just lucky to have you around then, huh?" Clint was glad. Glad that the lie to bring the Avengers together was just that...a lie. Having Coulson around made everything bearable as slowly allowed his eyes to shut. Still awake...just, getting to the point where he knew he wouldn't be soon.

Clint laughed, still keeping his eyes shut as his breathing seemed to finally level out from the fight he and Phil had. "You couldn't have known unless you put a GPS in me or something." His eyes slowly cracked up, brow quirking up. "Which...if you do that I won't be as nice as I usually am. I appreciate my own space, sir." He knew just sitting there wasn't getting them anywhere before his head tilted in curiosity at the final statement.

"...didn't know my daily visits mattered that much, Coulson." The feeling in his chest was something that he hadn't felt in a while. It was...welcoming to say the least. The haze in his eyes had all but slipped away, but he could still feel Loki's presence there. Somewhere deep in his subconscious. It wasn't something he was particularly happy about as he just dropped his head on Phil's shoulder. "Maybe we should start up the Avengers buddy system. I'm getting kind of annoyed at being a puppet."

He knew it was the only choice when he'd made it, but that didn't mean he'd enjoyed hurting Clint. Quite the opposite, really. He'd needed to do it and he had.

"If I put a GPS tracker in you, I would only activate it in situations like this. Alternately, I could just not let you out of my sight, but I think that will infringe on your space more." He was mostly joking, even if he wished he could put a GPS in Clint in case this ever happened again. Not that he planned to let it happen again.

He smiled, leaning his head against Clint's gently. "Who else is going to remind me to eat? I nearly starved without you here to bother me." He'd nearly starved worrying about Clint, but Clint didn't need to know that. Agent Hill had made sure he didn't actually starve, so it was okay. "We already have a buddy system. You stop bothering me and I notice you're gone and start looking for you." Even if during the first few days, everyone had thought he was crazy, he had known and he had been right.

"He's not getting you again. I'll kill him myself if I have to." Not that he knew how, but he'd find a way.

"When I don't show up for breakfast, lunch, dinner and nap time in your office?" His stomach churned a little. The sniper fighting the nauseated feeling that washed over him. Getting sick wasn't something he necessarily wanted to deal with before smiling a little. "I work for SHIELD. My space is already infringed. I don't think you'd be stepping over any boundaries that I have." He paused for a moment. He didn't think he had any boundaries. He did like when he could sneak away undetected sometimes. By anyone who wasn't Phil that was. Apparently if he was gone for twenty-four hours he put out a personal-issued amber alert with himself.

"Actually please don't do that, Phil."

Clint ignored the throbbing in his head, but if he had known that Maria had made sure Phil at least ate he'd have to give her a gift basket or something. Or not do anything to bother her for a while as he took in a deep breath. "Well, you beat the crap out of me. So I'm guessing you didn't starve. Good on you, boss." He started to laugh as his stomach took the shaking almost to a level up as he leaned forward, lifting his knees up and pressing his forehead against the top of them. "Just kill me the next time it happens, Phil."

Phil rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to kill you." His hand slid over Clint's back to rest on his other shoulder. "I've see you beaten harder. Belarus comes to mind. You pulled through that and you'll pull through this just fine." It was more head trauma than anything now, anyway, and while he probably was sporting a concussion, Phil was pretty confident that Clint hadn't suffered any permanent damage at his hands.

"You can't stop by my office every day and then suddenly stop and expect me not to notice. Noticing things like that is what I do. It's how I keep you alive and if it carries over outside of the field, I'm not going to apologize for it, because you really were missing. I was right. If I hadn't noticed, you would have just walked out of here today and I don't know when I would have found you."

He sighed. "And I won't put a GPS chip in you, but only because someone else could find out the frequency and track you and that's my job." Clint was just lucky that Phil was so paranoid or the chip would be going in yesterday.

"Would you believe me if I said you were doing me a favor if I do?" He scowled, lifting his head up a bit and looking towards Coulson. He didn't want to think about past missions where he got his ass handed to him. At least he had one thing going for him...it was Phil who had done it to him. Clint used one hand to reach into his pocket, feeling a part of his mind feel like he was doing a disservice to something. He ran his finger along the storage disk before pulling his hand back. Leaving the storage device still in his pocket.

Clint grew silent for a brief moment. "You woulda probably found me when I blew up another SHIELD facility. If history likes repeating itself so much." He tried to crack a smile at that but really couldn't manage. He felt like he had doubly been injured. Both with whatever Phil had done and what Loki he had done. The archer almost wanted to lean into Phil, but if he got sick? He didn't want Coulson's impeccably clean suit to become the hapless victim.

"Lucky for me you're paranoid, huh?"

"Then I'm going to be selfish and not do you that favor." Phil was never selfish, especially not when it came to work. He was allowed a few selfish things and if one of them was keeping Clint alive, Clint could just deal with that. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure that he could kill Clint, even if he was in horrible pain and dying. It was Clint. Phil tried not to think about it, but the idea of Clint not being around left a sinking, cold feeling in his stomach. He'd had to face that feeling head-on the last few days. It wasn't as if Clint's life was never in danger, but every scare felt a little worse.

He tightened his arm around Clint's shoulders. He really didn't care if Clint got sick on him. Dry cleaning existed for a reason. "I'm glad I found you before anyone got hurt, including you." Sure, Clint was a little hurt, but he wasn't shot or stabbed or dean. He was just banged up. It was a much better option than any of the others and now Phil had him back.

"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.