[ He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, still looking at the debt in the wall. Still with Amos' voice rattling around in his head. He didn't really get it. Maybe he was just stubborn. Or maybe he was too used to the fact that his crew was made of broken people - that he just hadn't thought any of them would be this honestly worried about him. Guilt twisted in his gut, his expression turning a little more miserable, as he wondered if that was why Amos had been there in the first place. Worried, with no way of showing it save anger. And he just fed anger right back into it.

God damn it.]

I'm just tryin' to help, Gunny. [ The fire was leaking out of his voice, replaced by a bone depth exhaustion. ]

An' I don't think that makes me an asshole.

[ Or a coward. Even if everything else did. ]