"Well. That may be true." Lord knows Doc is a man of many faces, himself. There is only so much assistance and advice and support he can dispense and he's been running on empty for days now. Sometimes he needs to be alone, to recharge, reflect. Even if it tends to lead to an unpleasant, uncontrollable sort of spiral. Most people probably spiral out of control when they drink. Doc drinks so that he doesn't spiral. Sometimes he wonders if Raylan isn't the same way.

"Way I see it? I came here alone, and I'm leaving alone. Might as well not do the in between bit alone either, y'know. I never much liked sleeping alone. If all they want's a face, I can do that. Wear a face long enough, you can end up forgetting what your real one looks like anyway. Then you'd just have to rely on the people you've wronged and who have wronged you in return to remind you how much of a heartless bastard you really are." Doc doesn't tend to bring those people to bed, so he can more easily pretend it doesn't bother him that way.

"You can tell me you're not comfortable now. But I 'on't give a shit," he says with a chuckle. He just got Doc into this position. He'll have to shove him off if he wants Doc to get off.