Lambert flinches at that. It sounds too much like what he thinks at the worst of times, and it’s worse coming from someone else. He can’t just tell himself it’s in his own head (his lighter half having taken the healthier coping mechanisms with him) and that he’s making it up.

“I knew that already!” he rails. “I know I don’t make a damn difference! But I don’t care!”

And now here’s a horrific sight: Lambert’s actually beginning to tear up.

“Let go of me!” He’s still stronger that Strange is, physically, and the urge to get away is strong enough that he has no problems finding the urgency to yank his hand away.