While Neal was getting his beauty sleep on the couch, Doc had started on cleaning up. Raylan had taken care of the largest pieces of broken shards on the floor, but there were bloodied towels, blood patches on the floor, smaller pieces of ceramics and a bit of spilled water that needed mopping up. At least, with nothing getting on the carpet, he can make quick work of it.

He was poking at some sheets in boiled water when he heard Neal's commotion, and he abandons his makeshift bandages project to hurry over quickly, tugging his tight trousers a little higher up on his knees before crouching down next to Neal, two hands on his shoulders to steady him and get him to calm down, lie down again.

"Neal. Neal. It's alright, son. Easy now." He gives Neal some time to take in his surroundings. There's no one here but the two of them. No fire neither.