"Yes, you did." Hartley was hardly going to pretend that Eobard's decisions hadn't led to everything that had happened. "And it was a ridiculous choice. You only have yourself to blame there." What? He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. "You only ended up stuck in the past because your master plan was 'murder an eleven year old'. I mean, honestly. You're smarter than that. The whole situation was a mess from the start. And all you did was make it more of one by meddling. And yes, I know, you could kill me in an instant. You're more powerful than blah blah blah. Save it for someone easily impressed."
He was reasonably certain Eobard wouldn't kill him, in any case. It would be incredibly petty to kill simply because of a slight to his ego. Then again, perhaps he was giving him too much credit. But even if he was, he wasn't sure if he really cared either way. It was no worse than anything the other man had already done to him really. And at least it would be something. At least it would mean he merited a response. That he meant something.
It was easier somehow, hiding behind indifference and sarcasm. For the first time since the conversation started, he felt like he had some semblance of armor. Of course, that feeling slipped away quickly as Eobard continued to speak. It hurt in a way he couldn't fully explain, the way he couldn't tell if he'd ever meant anything to Eobard. He wanted to, but it seemed so stupid to think he had. Especially when it was clear Eobard had only ever seen him as a tool and a nuisance. "I could have understood," he said after a moment. "I could have, if you'd let me. If you'd trusted me. I...felt like nothing. Less than nothing. Whatever you think, it doesn't change what you did to me."