Clint snorted slightly at her words of it not being her problem. "Right. My death would mean nothing to you. Probably not even a minor inconvience." He knew this all came down to his choice. He could tell Natasha everything and they go from there, very likely leaving Everett to go on the run, or he keep quiet about it for as long as possible and do as Rebekah ordered.
But Clint wsn't worried at Natasha knowing about all the lives he had brutally murdered. It was merely more red in his ledger as they said to each other.
"Speaking honestly? I wish to hell you were still napping in concrete or worse." He looked at her, his eyes honest. "And, forgive me but, part of me doubts you'd ever really let me go even if or when I do bring you those two heads. After all, I'd live out Natasha and her kid. All you'd have to do is wait while I was mad with grief or something, right?"