Okay. Good. At least Malcolm was going to stay for a little while longer. But from what Doc has gathered over all their late night drinking talks, he's not sure that Raylan is the type to be seeking 'comfort without judgement'. Raylan did not strike him as the type who would just go halfway with someone. If he's in, he's in with both feet and arms in the ride, strapped in and fully committed to stick it out through the end, for better or worse. Doc on the other hand, is enough of a comfort-seeker himself to know that Raylan is not one. He has had much more fluid and nebulous, ill-defined relationships over the decades. They both have women troubles, but for very different reasons.

Before he can say anything, he turns his head ever so slightly at the sound of the doorknob turning. They have run out of time. Doc gives Malcolm a brief, firm squeeze of his hand, a silent promise that they will talk about this later, and Raylan would find Malcolm sitting and Doc lying down as though they're posing for a photograph, casual but deliberately framed as such.

"I was just saying I might- try and get a couple more hours shut-eye myself, if that's alright with you."