Raylan took a deep breath at the hand on his forearm, head rolling back as he closed his eyes and tried not to give into everything churning in his chest. He wasn't good at being afraid, he had tools for that and when those tools were turned bluntly moot and useless, he floundered. He'd never had to flounder the way Mathis was forcing him to.

"I don't wanna die down here, Henry," he admitted quietly, though it seemed like no matter how quiet he tried to speak, the tunnels echoed it and made it larger. Too large to pretend that he hadn't said it. "I'm supposed to catch a bullet, not die in a mine - this isn't Harlan." He hated feeling like he was back home.

It wasn't fair and if his temper couldn't break a little, this had to.