No additional warnings for this scene.
Phil's recovery never officially ends, because he will never be the same he was before. Fury grounds him permanently, on doctor's orders. Not that anyone notices because Phil's still officially dead when Fury gives him the expected news. No fieldwork, no Avengers Initiative, no asset handling, no Strike Team Delta, no mission control: Phil's been reclassified as "analyst" and Fury intends to lock him away. Phil wouldn't be surprised if Fury was planning to keep Phil in a cage under his desk, running risk ratios vs. damage control factors and forecasting political windstorms.
So when it comes time for Phil to walk out of his long-term care facility and go back to work, he tells Fury to go fuck himself, turns in his (newly issued with a new name) SHIELD badge, steals a truck and heads for Wyoming.
He knows Fury could track him and he's pretty sure Fury also knows about the off-the-grid safehouse that Phil had bought back in his days with the Rangers, nearly 25 years ago. Phil just doesn't care, though, and maybe that's really why Fury doesn't follow.
Phil ditches the truck two states over and picks up an old Jeep Wagoneer out of a Walmart parking lot. It's sturdy and well cared for, and Phil knows he can easily "transfer" ownership on it with a few faked documents and some elbow grease. He hustles for gas money at small dive bars along the way, playing pool like a shark and looking nondescript enough that his marks don't even know they've been played. He fucks one of the bar flies, a strong biker woman who actually does dig his scars and rides him like she's in a rodeo, and it's both the best and worst sex of Phil's life. The next town over he's scruffy enough to be taken for a bear so he hits the only gay bar in that part of the state and brings a cub back to his hotel to push around. The kid has a pretty face and solid muscles and likes to call him Daddy, which makes Phil cringe but he can't find it in himself to kick the boy out. The sex is better, anyway, so Phil does the decent thing and buys him breakfast in the morning.
He rolls up to his safe house tucked up in the mountains with nothing of his own. The Wagoneer, the clothes on his back, the old baseball cap on his head, the wallet and the money in it all belong to other people, or at least they used to. Phil has no shame about that, because he's seen true suffering and he knows he hasn't really put anyone out too much with his petty theft. He feels it's the principle of the matter anyway: he's starting over, starting from scratch, with nothing to his name but a matched set of scars, a long list of regrets, and an empty house in the middle of nowhere.