Raylan was pretty sure he knew why the nightmares had come back, but they hadn't brushed across the door that he could open to talk about it. Malcolm helped plenty when he was there, but there was no help that would stop them - Raylan's end goal.

Slowly working himself to the closest porch, Raylan carefully set himself down, wincing as he brushed his hands together and shaking them separately because it hurt too much to do that. "Third or fourth on the left, I can't quite remember, but it's on the first floor. I tossed it into.. a dining room, I think. I hope it's not crushed, that's harder to fix than bein' wet."