Tim had smashed them for Raylan. If he was of sounder mind, his chest would have swelled, but as it was, he was left in a thoughtful state of shock about it. They could have covered it, though breaking it was a neater, shorter option. But Tim had done it. Cleared both floors, saving Raylan from the terror that caused no physical harm.

That wasn't done out of pragmatism.

He eyed the sniper as he followed back around and slowly lowered himself to the floor. The floor felt safer, saner somehow. Secure in a way he didn't really understand, and his eyes tracked Tim's shoulders as he moved around. With Tim getting into the fridge too, Raylan narrowed his eyes. All until Tim turned around.

"Wait," he said shifting to sit up a little straighter, one leg folded in under the other as the moonshine was set aside. "We have ice cream?"

It wasn't Legos or Saturday morning cartoons, but Raylan loved ice cream on the basis that all humans loved it. Some part of him was always going to be an eight year old fisting a cone that is being greedily consumed.

It was weird, but Tim couldn't have done anything more perfect for the situation. Raylan took the bowl, crossing his legs as he settled and looked back up at Tim.

"Get two spoons, you're splitting this with me." Not because he couldn't put it away all on his own. He could. But he wanted to share it.