"Mmmnnh I am not so sure I would be jumping at the opportunity to return here," Doc says after clearing his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, following a little too closely to Raylan. He would happily volunteer to assist from up top. Maybe he's not cut out to be down bottom after all. Every little noise is making his hair stand on end.

"Not quite how you pictured getting me alone, hm?" he jokes with a laugh that echoes almost eerily down the empty tunnel. Maybe empty is better than perturbing mirror phantoms but shit, he still doesn't like it.

"Not... quite... what I was. Picturing, either." Doc checks back over his shoulder for the umpteenth time, sweeping his light across his side of the tunnel frequently. He's eaten rats. There was little else to eat when he was trapped. At least he would feel somehow less uneasy with the company of rats, or just the sound of their scampering little feet. But they are in a town where rats and cockroaches fear to tread.

At the sound of something dripping - snow or ice melting, most likely, but he isn't in a rational state of mind right now - Doc freezes and grabs Raylan's arm just above the wrist, clammy hand gripping tight enough to leave angry red welts between his fingers, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"We should turn back."