Having it figured out to know what they wanted. What it was like. How to navigate it with any measure of grace or some kind of dignity. The latter of which he normally wasn't worried about but they weren't talking work. Even if they picked this conversation back up, Raylan wasn't planning on throwing Wyatt into the mix, but the cagey way Doc had been talking about it, he could guess well enough why.

But for right now, that didn't matter. He'd closed the door on the conversation and for tonight, this morning whatever it was, that's the way it would stay.

Even if the brush of fingers on his back both wrapped him in a passing comfort and stabbed him with a need for more. A few minutes later, Doc would even get a small almost inaudible "G'night" to echo his own.

True to his word, Raylan would stay until well after he hears Doc's breath even out to the shallow ones he'd fallen asleep to on his neck a few hours before, but after near an hour of listening to Doc sleep and chewing his own liver in the dark, Raylan slips out of bed, grabs his boots and pads silently towards the door.

Doc deserved a bit of quiet to rest in before the rest of the start of their day, but Raylan was far too wired by emotion. He was up for the day.