"No way we were comin' home without you if we could help it," Raylan assured with a firmly unmovable tone of opinion before giving into his impulse again and laying back on the bed. He didn't do thank yous or your welcomes in such a way and regardless, there was now a hook of guilt in his chest. He'd caused these nightmares, even if he wasn't in Malcolm's brain generating them.

"It woulda been fine," he continued in a quieter voice, hands laying over his chest as he stared at the ceiling. "Nothin' to be done about it now, except move onto the next idea. The next possibility." He shifted his head so he could look down? Up? at Malcolm from his spot on the bed.

"I'm sorry that it started all this. That it scares you so bad." That Malcolm was so invested in a stupid, quasi careless man who relied too heavily on luck. It'd likely happen again and Raylan didn't know how to stop that either.