"Don't think I'm forgetting that anytime either." He's done some fucked up shit, but that was--

He pauses when Malcolm continues on, just listening quietly. "Jesus, Malcolm... what the fuck?"

He shouldn't be surprised hearing that shit, but-- he is. Or maybe sickened is the word for it. He can't imagine having a kid and even contemplating killing them for a goddamn second... hell, killing any kid. It's fucking unforgivable.

He's not entirely sure it's welcome or not, not after Malcolm's trip down his memory lane, but he chances a step closer, reaches out a hand to rest on his shoulder. "I'm-- sorry."

Sounds like just the type of guy who'd get Lucille back home, and there'd probably be some pleasure in it, but he doesn't say that part.