If there was one thing Raylan was sure about, it was that Doc wasn't going to tell anyone about this fracture of tough man Marshal mask so easily accepted by anyone laid eyes on him. The hint of real humanity that he had to keep in his holster most of the time. While there was still a fraction of his mind that would worry about it later, for now, everything was okay.

It was just as dangerous as anything else, but Raylan fully relaxed back into the couch, arm slipping forward to a more natural drape over Doc's waist. It was home, wasn't it? The place he stayed with people he cared about. Nothing was ideal, but he wasn't alone. None of them were. The worry he'd been holding for the past two days settled down in the back of his head - If Doc was here, Malcolm was too. They were back in a safe place for a little while.

A handful of minutes passed as Raylan drifted on the edge of going back to sleep, lulled further into it by the solid weight against him, and the rise and fall of steady breathing. But after a few more minutes, Raylan inhaled sharply as he came to again, letting out a soft, back of the throat noise with his exhale.

"Hey. People gonna wake up soon. We gotta get up."