The well was simultaneously the most tormenting and the safest place and he has a complicated relationship with it, a kind of long festering resentment and yet sometimes he finds himself craving for that kind of predictability and security. He can't stand the place but it was, for all intents and purposes, the only place he could call home for all those decades. He doesn't know how to describe what solitary confinement has done to him, only that if he doesn't categorically deny that any part of it was positive, he knows they'll think him crazy.

So he goes quiet again, taking another sip of whiskey. He doesn't want to lean. He doesn't want to be a bitter, damaged, useless old man. He wants--... He just wants things back the way they should be. With the girls safe and sound.

"Have you seen Ellie?" He finally asks, knowing the answer is probably no, knowing full well neither of them can do anything about that right now. Maybe it's a little unfair to put this worry upon Malcolm. It won't make Doc worry any less. But it is the main thing troubling him, right now. The only thing he can possibly do, seeing as he can't get Daisy to remember nor can he get his daughter back in any meaningful way.