Clint glances away from her (back to the door), in the hopes that'll help.

"Fixing stuff takes a long time," he says. He squeezes her shoulder lightly, again. "It's not like you can hack into it and turn on the electric fences against your own brain fucking around with you."

He's quiet for a moment. "Aliens are new in my world. We just figured out we've got them. But the only safe space being inside your head has been around for -- as long as people in shitty situations have, I guess."