Well Raylan's reaction was interesting. The look on Malcolm's face, even more so. Doc is saying absolutely nothing as he runs a finger over his moustache, gaze flitting from one to the other. He's nothing if not perceptive. But now is the neither the time nor place to be spouting off astute observations.

"Leave them. I will take care of it." Whether that involves shoving everything into the bin or not wasting it, he does not specify.

"Watch out for any glass now." Raylan did sweep up but sometimes there's one or two pesky pieces hiding between the floorboard still.

As Raylan clears out and Malcolm starts to wander off, Doc reaches over to grab the nearest bottle of moonshine. He unscrews the lid and dumps a healthy amount of it into his coffee while Malcolm has his back turned. He's got his own back turned to the bedroom doors but he can hear Raylan moving around so he doubts he's looking his way. That's coming with him to the porch, and he's going to have a smoke first before he cleans all this shit up. There's some stuff lying around that's not theirs, and Doc is going to the library to read up as much as he can about the concoction of medications Malcolm is on, so, if Malcolm is really itching for something to do, perhaps there are a few consolation prizes he can offer once they are resettled into their new place.