"Not really a reach," Raylan said, smirking at him and took another bite of his breakfast. The idea of a young Malcolm standing in Harlan's Elementary School playground with the rest of the dirty kids, dressed in hand me down jeans and shirt was one Raylan couldn't imagine.

His brow pinched again briefly. "'Us'? And what'd she want you to be?" Somehow, he also couldn't imagine Malcolm doing.. anything else, in a similar way to his own lawman inevitability. With their fathers being who they were, did they really have any other choice?