Raylan wasn't hard to recall home, it was only that no one had yet and Doc had been right in his ascribing Raylan to the wandering type; roots weren't something he was used to as something good. He was only a half minute run away if really needed and now that Mathis has stolen his boots, he's 75% more likely to survive.

"Mm, as if we'd ever leave you alone," Raylan chuckled in promise as he led the way into the kitchen, immediately going for the nonstick pan he'd found and cleaned days ago. "I'll stick around there, next couple days, if you want, stay close. Do whatever housework might need doin'. Pretty sure you and I are the only one's thinkin' about it - it's like havin' kids," he huffed as he dropped the pan on the stove and dug into the fridge.

You doing alright?

The rustling in the fridge stilled for half a second before he continued, coming up with eggs, cheese and a small ham steak. He could guess why Doc was asking. As daydreamy as it might have been to hope that Doc would be spared the shit show that he'd incurred, he knew it was impossible. Especially being with the people they were in the same house. He knows. Of Course he knew. When did Doc Holliday not know something about Raylan on any given day.

Never mind that.

"Fair to meddlin'. As if any of us are doin' 'alright', here, really," he huffed good naturedly as he set his goods on the counter top, back to the probing too knowing eyes. "I'm guessin' you heard and have opinions. Go on. Lay 'em on me. Tell me what all I did wrong so I can add it to the list."

The bruises that were healing on his face spoke to said list. He'd heard many a detail and with what he knew of how Doc spoke now, he expected it.