As Lambert starts to gather his swords, Strange reaches out to grab his wrist and tries to prevent him from doing so. As far as Strange is concerned, they're not finished with this conversation just yet. He's trying to regain his composure, trying to push down some of that hysterical laughter, as he looks over directly at Lambert and tries to make eye contact for the first time in a while.

"I need my friend as well. But considering that my friend didn't trust me with something as simple as who he loves, I thought he didn't need me. And then when my friend didn't trust me enough to help protect the carnival and do the job I've been doing for a good portion of a year...I thought something like 'hell, he must not think I'm good enough any more. Well that's alright, I've got a different friend who does trust me and does think I'm good enough, I'll feel better if I focus on him instead.'"

He takes a few shallow breaths, trying to push past the hysteria and get all his words out before Lambert goes anywhere. "And then to go from you barely trusting me to keep people safe to you trusting me with your life...I had no idea what the hell you wanted from me." Strange pauses, before clarifies, "I still have no idea what the hell you want from me."