[ She slows, turning to face him again, lip quivering. Oh. Oh. Did he really think she would blame him for all of that, after she was the one who had cruelly excavated it from his mind? The tears keep running down her face, unbidden, her expression crumpling up the more he goes on. His grief and self-loathing are so heavy, she wants to be rid of it as soon as possible. For the both of them.

So, she just smacks him once in the chest with her purse, making an indignant, woeful sound, a choked sob. The hit is way too light to truly be malicious - it's almost comical. ]

You're so stupid!!

[ It's all she can think to say at first, now actually crying in earnest, fingers wound tight around her handbag. ]

I don't care about that... and you didn't make me do anything...

[ Because... she really didn't care. Maybe it's the almost dying four or five times, the seeing her parents killed in front of her, the blood already on her hands that allows herself to at least believe that she could look past everything she saw in his head. Perhaps the memory was more graphic than anything she'd personally experienced herself (the violence part, at least), but she could trick herself into believing she was desensitized to it all. It was horrible, yes. And traumatic. But Amos hadn't put her through that— the Innocence had, and she'd willingly gone in there to pull him out. She'd known what she could potentially be getting into. He had it worst of all, from her point of view, since at least she'd only experienced it second hand. ]

Why do you think I tried to stop you?! I didn't want you to be alone after...

[ She trails off. Look at what failing to stop him did. As before, it's not a guilt over what she'd done that plagues her— it's guilt towards how everything played out in the end. If she'd just come up with some way to stop him, maybe things wouldn't be this way. ]