Might as well be shot for a sheep as a lamb, as the saying went. Tim closed his eyes and lay his cheek along Raylan's shoulders, relaxing as best he could in their current configuration.

"My mother was an addict, Raylan and we're not talking weed or even Oxy. If she was shooting heroin it was a 'light' day." He wasn't sharing this for sympathy, but because it would illustrate the situation more clearly for Raylan. Both of them, in their jobs, saw what happened with the kids of addicts. "I was never a kid. I was cooking for myself, cleaning up after myself ... fuck sake I potty trained myself."

There was no childhood for kids like him, like Loretta McCready. Kids who grew up not only neglected but also having to be the parent in the parent/child relationship.

"I know understanding doesn't negate hoping for change," he continued. "I just ... I don't know, Handsome. Maybe I'm being childish in wishing for a little recognition that I'm trying. Rather than keep getting told I'm not doing good enough."