Malcolm let himself be drawn in, in more ways than one, his hands finding purchase in Raylan’s clothes, grasping the fabric wherever they fell.

“I don’t… I don’t want that either,” he admitted. “But you said you wouldn’t lie to me anymore, after Doc,” he gasped into Raylan’s shoulder. “This was the same lie again. Tell me how to believe you when you say there won’t be anyone else. Tell me how to trust you. Fix it,” he implored, like Raylan could just make the bad things go away.