He nods, very slowly, because what Ned's saying isn't really any great revelation -- of course he'd never purposefully hurt someone. He may be capable of as yet completely unknown things, with those powers that Ginsberg still doesn't quite feel he understands, but he can't imagine Ned ever maliciously and gleefully hurting someone. It simply isn't something he can see in Ned, regardless of what he's now learned.

"We gotta call the cops," he agrees, glad that there's something to be done, because doing something is so much better than the alternative, feeling helpless and confused, and they're both doing plenty of that as it is. "Maybe we should call them anonymously, though, and not stick around for them to ask questions, because if they think we... I mean... there's blood on your hands, they might think..."

He trails off, looking queasy again, because thinking about the blood on Ned's hands reminds him of the blood on the woman, and that leads his brain down a path he doesn't want it to go down. "She looked so... I mean, it must've hurt a lot, what happened to her. Or maybe it didn't. Maybe it was so fast she didn't know what was happening. I... I don't understand how people can be so cruel."

And that's not just a lamentation about the nature of humanity. He literally doesn't understand it. For all the times he's been angry, all the times he's feared hurting someone else, he's never considered himself capable of that kind of violence. Is he? Is Ned? He doesn't think so.