"There's no stoppin' those kinda men. No use you gettin' destroyed along with 'em trying to keep them from the edge," he said with a shake of his head. He liked John, but he was less and less endearing in his grumpy nature lately and Raylan was starting to draw some subtle lines.

But he would agree he wasn't a good man. He was an alright man. As he was sure Doc was. There were no good pure men anymore. There never had been - it was a myth and had been for more years than he wanted to try to count.

He opted to skip the next statement for now, focusing on the request.

"You are absolutely out of your mind if you think we're not comin' lookin' for you if you go missing. Look, John-" he'd never figured out if it was John Henry or just John, but it didn't matter. He leaned forward on a cast out to the side hand, hazel eyes squinting at him. "I'd like to think we know each other well enough to not bullshit me that you wouldn't go out after us. Shit, I watched you agonize for half a day about goin' after the people in the fog. If Malcolm or I were lost out there, you bet your ass we'd hope you were comin' for us. Why? Because we're all lookin' out for one another and we don't leave each other behind."

It would be over Raylan's dead body that they don't go lookin out after Doc. It might have been selfish but he was attached and he didn't want to do the day to day without Doc if he had to.