Doc draws out the silence between them, the way a disapproving dad knows best how, only he doesn't make a conscious effort of it and he would insist he has no such paternal instincts. They make their way into the garage, and cold air wraps around them both as they go through the internal door and Doc closes it behind him, keep the warmth in the main chamber of the house. There are two chairs near the garage door, and half-drunk bottles of moonshine on the floor. One is for Doc and one is for Raylan. But today Klaus can pick a chair, if he wants. Doc is just going to lean against the garage door frame.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pack of smokes, plucking two sticks out. He doesn't ask if Klaus wants one, he just lights them both and holds one out to Klaus as he sticks the other between his lips, taking a long drag. The silence stretches and stretches like a rubber band at breaking point, but Doc doesn't say anything until after he's blown some smoke over his shoulder, blue eyes locking gaze with Klaus.

"Are you okay, son?"