Malcolm had changed into sweatpants and had quietly sipped at a glass of bourbon in the chair in the corner while Raylan got Willa to sleep. He was lost in thought when Raylan walked in, rocking faintly in his seat, but he looked up when the door closed, stilling as he met Raylan's smile with a small one of his own.

That smile did a lot for him.

He abandoned his glass on the table to get up and go over to Raylan, wrapping his arms around his middle to hug him tightly.

The dread of tomorrow could sit ignored in the pit of his stomach for now. He didn't want to think about meeting with his father and what sort of mental games that would involve.

Or going to sleep that night without the warm safety of Raylan's arms.

"She was tired tonight. I guess we wore her out," he noted of Willa, his voice slightly muffled by Raylan's shoulder.