Tim wondered how exhausting it must have been to be as high strung as Raylan was, and the thought almost made him laugh, the high still fogging his brain. He ended only smiling instead, a faint twitch of his lips.

He was having trouble caring about Raylan's lecture, even though the other man was completely right. This was stupid, what he was doing. It was dangerous and reckless and he was overestimating his own strength and his ability to fend off vampires. But it was hard to think about that when too many days went by and he could practically feel his veins burning for the bite. He had a problem. Logically, he knew that. But he'd never found anything that worked quite this well at keeping the nightmares and paranoia at bay.

At least he wasn't drinking so much anymore. A silver lining.

"I'm fine," he said, and though he tried to press his sleeve harder to his neck, he didn't really have the energy it took to keep Raylan's hands away from him. His hand ended up dropping, but it was only to grab Raylan's wrist, eyes open suddenly. His gaze was rather unfocused, but he looked from Raylan to the drop of blood on his thumb.

He could still hear Raylan's voice telling him what it meant when vampires gave humans their blood, that it made the humans belong to them, and Tim didn't know how he felt about that. About belonging to Raylan. "I'm okay," he assured quietly.