Ned thinks (without a hint of irony) that for the kindness Ginsberg is offering him now, he'd be willing to put up with a lot more than just the occasional moment of loudmouthed insensitivity. If he looked too hard at that inclination, he'd probably see that it might not be the healthiest attitude to have. Would probably see that it, too, is threaded through with the self-doubt and belief that he deserves to have everyone leave him sooner or later.

"Doubt it," Ned says, and his voice is increasingly normal, so that there's a hint of humor and challenge in that. At the same time, he's serious, really does mean it. After all, as far as Ned's concerned, no amount of having gone through bad things would drive him away, and as for doing bad things, he suspects the worst thing Ginsberg's ever done wouldn't even register on the chart of what he has.

"And don't be so hard on yourself," he adds, detaching one hand to poke Ginsberg very lightly in the stomach reproachfully, "Everybody's got flaws, and a kitten could've upset me, today. And by could, I mean did."