“You’re not a shitheel,” Malcolm told Raylan sharply. He looked between them. “I think everyone is so immersed in this place, they’re forgetting how extreme the trauma and pressure we’re all under is. How badly we’re all being pushed. How much this place wants to break us and how they try to do that by first breaking us apart from each other. Everyone copes in different ways.”

He looked at Neal. “Yeah,” he said softly, “I wish I was Raylan’s everything,” he admits plainly, “but I also knew I wasn’t. It’s not ideal for me, but I understand why someone would cling to every bit if comfort that… that there is for them. I understand the whys of it, even if I don’t agree with the hows and that’s someplace to meet. And I know this place has been heavier on you than… than maybe anyone else. Things that have happened to you, personal relationships that imploded, the influences, the urges… the games of this place. But you’ve survived it and you’re beating it because you’re still so full of love that you want to protect your friends. Take that, oppressors,” he finished softly.