The exhaustion wasn't hard to see and Raylan could guess why, with all that thrashing and screaming. Following behind in a lazy amble, Raylan emptied his hand into the trash can as he came to it and headed over to the sink to rise his hands after Malcolm was done filling the kettle. Once he was done, he turned around to lean against the counter as well, arms crossing loosely over his chest as he let Malcolm speak in his own time.

"Okay, so we mitigate stress to the full limit we can. What's stressin' you out this mornin'?" There wasn't anything they could do for Malcolm's medicinal needs and Raylan knew there was no stopping them out right, but he'd found Malcolm over a dangerous mess, yelling at a corner. He felt right to be worried.

"I don't suppose settin' up some kinda code word for reality will work, since your information is.. well, yours." No use trying to set up that structure if Malcolm's mind could take the information and twist it against them.