"I can tell," he replied, and the words, to match his face, were clearly worried. Gently and with only a few fingers, Raylan turned Doc's palm a little, licking his off thumb and smearing it across Doc's palm to move some of the dirt and soot that had settled there. "Nothing," he muttered, letting go and settling back on his hunches and looking back up at Henry's face.

"You havin' any.. nightmares about dyin? Have.." His jaw worked, unwilling to say it in the moment before he took a breath through his nose. Better to get through it than linger in this bullshit. "You die on me and ain't said nothin?"

A hesitant accusation, but as closed mouth as Henry was about shit that chewed at him, Raylan had to ask. Even if Henry wasn't closed off about it, he would have to ask. He buried him.

Least he'd found his hat?