[The explanation does get him to pause, if only momentarily. It's too close to what happened with him and Klaus. The spirit that had possessed him wasted no time in exploiting Klaus' trust in him and luring him in just because it wanted to hurt something. As much as he's enjoying himself now, Harlan had hated being stuck in the backseat of his mind with the spirit inflicting similarly horrible pain on his friend. Who's stuck with the blade end of the knife is just as important as who's behind it, and maybe, maybe if Harlan is off the hook for that, Tim should be off the hook for—

No, no. Harlan didn't end up with a new sin on his list, so it's not the same. It can't be the same.]

Oh, bullshit. If it wasn't you, why is your list holding you responsible for it?

[As if the lists even fucking matter. He has no reason to trust them, none at all, but... It's more convenient this way.

So convenient that he decides he doesn't even want an answer to his question. He yanks the blade out of Tim and instead presses a hand to his chest, feeling out the spaces between the ribs on his left side. Once he finds a decent opening, he lines up the tip of the knife.]

You're gonna want to hold still for this. This is a tough shot to pull off. You really gotta put some muscle behind it.

[Harlan pats his chest, and if he didn't have a knife in his other hand, it might be reassuring.]

Deep breaths, Tim.

[He thrusts the blade forward, but, oops—metal glances off bone and he doesn't quite make it into the chest cavity. Ugh. He's rusty, and it's showing.]

Ah, see? I told you not to move.

[He flashes another smile, and waits for Tim to compose himself before driving in again.]