Clint gave her an annoyed look but when she told him about the choice he faced now, he stared at the red head. He could die as she said, out there alone. No doubt if he tried to go to Natasha she'd put a bullet in his head. But if he drank (and oh how he wanted to taste the girl's blood) he could find a way to approach Natasha safely and show her he was alive and fine. Not only that, he could play spy against Rebekah for those in the prison. He'd just have to limit who he told his intel to.
He stared at the girl as he debated with himself before he rose to his feet and slowly walked to the girl, unintentionally licking his lips, his eyes on the wound on her neck from Rebekah. He looked into the girl's eyes, his own a mix of self disgust given what he was about to do and hunger. "I'm sorry..." he whispered.
He leaned in and pressed his lips over the wound on her neck and began drinking. His arms wrapped around the girl as he drank. Several minutes later he fell back and winced as he felt fangs descending from his gums and everything suddenly became sharper and clearer. He looked up at Rebekah, his eyes dark and veiny with his fangs descended, blood still on his lips from the girl.