[ Clint feels awful about this, but he's not going to just let Sherlock stamp all over him. Maybe his voice breaks in the middle, but he's still loud and a little angry when he replies. ]

No, screw you. I didn't have to tell you at all! I could've let you see it on the obituaries. He was my friend too. I told you as much as I can, don't ask me what good are you. We were going to carry him to you and all he could talk about was how worried he was that he wasn't gonna be able to keep up with you because he couldn't fucking walk.

Don't give me what good are you. I was doing more for him than you were.