[.... Well fuck.

He actually doesn't even get that Charles picked up on his drunken thoughts until halfway through his tirade, until the annoyance bursts and fades back and he's left narrowing his eyes at the Professor. Anger he can take. He's fielded anger while drunk time and time again.]

Right, because killing someone who's directly responsible for my death, the death of hundreds of people back home, and who keeps trying to play us like some kind of deranged, out of tune fiddle- if Clint had met any one of us between whatever talk he and Loki had and making that post, Either Cap or I'd be laying in the infirmary with an arrow through the skull.

[He's not even touching the rest of Charles' accusations right now. Because something in what they're saying, in what he just said makes him feel sick. He's too pissed to really listen to himself, too drunk to think and reason, but he knows something's off. Something's wrong.]

Look. I need a part in your chair. You won't even know the difference. Give me five minutes and I'll get out.