Whatever it was, Raylan could see just how twisted on it Doc was. He didn't seem to have any liver chewing tendencies, more like liver drowning violently in a tub full of moonshine and they were keeping that pace pretty well. Raylan didn't want to see more of it; who knew what kind of toll it would actually take on Doc?

Not one to dive headlong into his own issues, he understood how hard it was to actually say some things. The doors it opened, both in the house and in himself. So he'd let Doc tell it at his own pace to a non-judgemental and equally patient ear.

"Can't say I blame you, considerin'." Not a lot of casual conversation happened in the bathroom. Astute hazel eyes studied Doc's profile. "You don't wanna accidently say more things you think you shouldn't," he guessed. He let a beat pass, considering how to broach it before continuing. "Maybe he did. Doesn't mean you don't havta say anythin' you don't want to, you already know that."

His best guess was that Doc felt he had to, return in kind or have been cornered somehow.

"As I hear it told, wantin' to say somethin' isn't a bad thing, depending on what you're talkin' about.." He left that door open - What were they talking about?