Oh good, Malcolm's hand is getting seen to. That's one less thing to worry about, at least. Neal focus travels hazily from Doc and Malcolm to Raylan, pain making his ears ring while the rest of him feels like it's under water. Pillow and blanket. He nods numbly, a slight frown of confusion forming as he does.

"Sedatives?" Sedatives. Where--right. "They're Malcolm's."

He shifts, and pain lances through him, sharp enough to elicit a whimper. He cringes inwardly at the sound, how small and childish it is. It takes a moment of searching the air over him to find Raylan's face again. "Keller," he says softly. "Keller's going to kill me. I saw it."