Neal winces when Raylan tells him what happened on the Clipper, glad that their Malcolm is different. Or at least seems to be. Both because he doesn’t know if he’d like the Malcolm of the Clipper and because it’s complicated enough for Raylan without them being the same person.

He sets his glass down on the coffee table so he can rub his face with one hand before dragging his fingers back through his hair. Then he smiles at Raylan, small and fleeting. “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you.”