"Hey. Hey, it's ok. Some of your color's returned, I'd say that's a pretty good sign. Daryl? Can you hear me? My name's Helen, I'm a nurse for Dr. Carson; do you know where you are? You're at the Hilltop. Your family's here, they're all waiting for you to wake up. You're going to be just fine. We're gonna have you up and back on your feet in no time, ok? Daryl? Daryl... I think he passed out, again..."

When he woke up, he was alone. His eyes blinked slowly, taking in the sunlight pouring in from the open windows. Through his blurry vision, he caught movement. Curtains billowed gently in the cool breeze, casting shadows on the dressers and walls. He looked around. He was lying shirtless in a small white bed, in a room he had never seen before. Panic seized him and Daryl sat upright, but the sharp pain in his shoulder, his chest, was like an electric shock. A groan escaped his throat, and he eased himself back onto the sweat soaked sheets. That simple movement alone was enough to send him reeling. He was dizzy, disoriented. He raised a hand to cover his eyes and felt a small tug. Someone had administered an IV. Someone had cleansed the blood from his arms, from his neck. He felt the heavy bandages and gauze wrapped around his right shoulder and chest. His arm was secure in a sling. How in the hell did he ever get here?

Daryl stared up at the ceiling. Everything was so quiet. But in his mind, he could still hear it. The screaming. The wailing. The last desperate plea for mercy. That sick fuck laughing at them, mocking their anguish, getting off on it all. He could hear Maggie. Her scream was on repeat, playing over and over again. The sound that came from her that night would never leave him. A raw, inhuman sound destined to haunt him until his dying day. He couldn't remember when he had finally passed out. But he could remember the crunch of the bat... he could see the blood soaked dirt... and Glenn.

Glenn. The taste of bile rose in Daryl's throat. He gripped the sheets around him, wanting to scream. Glenn was dead. God, no. Oh, please God, no.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He was going to be a father. He had something to live for, something to offer the world. And he was gone. Gone in a matter of seconds. How can a man's whole life, his very essence, be so easily obliterated to nothing? Like he didn't matter? Like he never existed? Were they truly all just sacks of blood, held together by bones and meat? How would they ever move on from this?

It should have been me, he thought dismally. It's my fault. It's all my fault.

Glenn never would have been out there if it hadn't been for him. His desire for revenge had clouded his judgement and he stormed off after Dwight like a man with a death wish. Glenn had followed him. He tried to talk sense to him, tried to bring him home. Why had he not listened? Why had he not turned back when he still had the chance? He had let this happen. He let Dwight get the jump on him, let those men take Glenn, Michonne and Rosita hostage. This was his doing. His responsibility. His shame. He closed his eyes and found himself surrounded by the faces of the dead.

Sophia. Merle. Hershel. Beth. Denise.

Now Glenn.

All the people he couldn't protect. All the people he let die. There was a rushing sound in his head. And he could hear Maggie scream...

The room was much too quiet. He felt a chill go down his spine. He was suddenly afraid. Afraid of being alone. He didn't want to be alone in this room anymore. Where was everyone? He wanted Rick. He wanted Michonne. He wanted to fall to his knees and beg Maggie for forgiveness. But most of all, he wanted Carol.

Carol ain't here, he reminded himself, and some of the fear that had gripped his heart slowly ebbed away. Carol was home with Judith. She hadn't been there to see it. She had been spared of all this. He could breathe a shaky sigh of relief at the thought. She was safe. Home and safe. That's all that mattered to him now.

The more he thought of her, the more he wished she could be there with him. He wanted to hold her, to feel her arms around him. He wanted to break down, to have her comfort him, to tell him it was going to be alright. It was selfish. It was pitiful. But he needed her. He needed her love, her friendship. He needed that now more than ever.

He didn't know why or how it happened, but something had changed between them. In these short few months, they had drifted apart. Ever since they arrived in Alexandria, Carol had done everything to push him away. She avoided him. Treated him no differently than a stranger. He would be lying if he said he wasn't hurt by it. He could have been more attentive to her, he admitted. But the transition to Alexandria hadn't been easy for him. He had had his own demons to deal with. Then with everything that happened after, it just got away from him.

He knew there was something wrong with her. He knew she was in pain. Their time together in Atlanta, where she had opened up to him, as small as that was... that had been the closest he'd ever gotten to finding the truth. That seemed so long ago now. If he had pushed her then, would things be any different? Would she have confided in him, trust in him again as she did once before? He didn't know. Instead, he had given her space, hoping that with time she would figure it out on her own. Time was something they didn't have anymore. He had so many regrets. There were so many things he wished he could have done differently. He couldn't do right by them, but he could still do what was right by her. This distance between them, he would bridge it. He would not wake up one day with Carol as a regret. As long as she was safe, as long as she was alive, there was still hope for them. He just wanted his friend back.

There was a glass of water next to him on the bed side table. A small orange pill rested at the base of it. He took the pill with his left hand, popped it in his mouth, and swallowed it whole. He didn't know what it was. He didn't really give a shit. Hopefully it was something that would knock him out. Put him under so he didn't have to take the silence of the room anymore.

Daryl jumped at the sudden click of the door. He looked up and saw a woman standing there on the threshold. She had wavy brown hair that framed her gentle face, and she wore a light blue dress with a stethoscope draped around her neck. She smiled at him, looked over her shoulder, gave a nod, and stepped aside to let a man enter the room. It was Rick.

"I'll leave you two be," said the woman softly, and Rick nodded at her appreciatively. The woman closed the door, and Rick and Daryl were left alone together, staring at each other from across the quiet room.

"Rick..?"

Daryl broke into a dry cough. His voice was rough and raw, like he had swallowed sand paper and gargled ashes.

"You should drink that," said Rick, pointing at the untouched glass. "Some water will do you good."

Rick grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to the bed as Daryl finished downing the glass. Rick sighed and lowered himself wearily onto the seat. He sat with his elbows on his knees, running his hands over his face a few times before finally steeling himself to face his friend. He looked utterly exhausted.

"I really thought we were gonna lose you," Rick began, his voice a coarse whisper. "Dr. Carson said because the bullet came so close to severing a major artery, and the fact that you were locked up in that van for God knows how long without medical attention... he said it's a miracle you didn't bleed to death. But you're gonna be alright. He, uh... he tells me you're gonna make a full recovery. And Helen, she's been taking good care of you. She's good. Real good. She used to be a trauma nurse...before all this..."

Rick stared down at his hands, fidgeting with them. The man looked like he had not had a single peaceful night of sleep ever since before the world had ended. Daryl felt for him. He could feel the pressuring weight of the world crushing down on his shoulders, could see the burden of loss finally taking its toll. Rick had always done his best to do what he thought was right for his family. They had all grown to become family to each other. Daryl never knew what a real family was like before finding these people. To see Rick like this, to know his actions had caused this despair... there was no greater agony in the world. Daryl felt his throat tightened, and his eyes began to burn.

"I let you down, man."

Rick looked up at him. "What?"

"Glenn... Michonne, Rosita... they were out there because of me. Led 'em right into a trap and didn't know it. I never should have left. If I hadn't, Glenn wouldn't've..." Daryl's breath shuddered. He looked away. "I killed him, Rick. I got his blood on my hands. All on my hands."

"No. No, hey. Look at me." Rick waited until Daryl gave him his full attention.

"We can't keep doing that. We can't go blaming ourselves. I've done plenty enough of that as it is. We all had a part to play in this. It doesn't fall on one person alone. This is on all of us."

Rick sighed, wiping a hand on his brow. "Maggie blames herself because she made the deal with Gregory. You blame yourself because that's what you do. And I blame myself... because I'm the leader. I got too arrogant. Too comfortable. We killed a lot of people. I thought we were done with it. By doing what we did, I thought we had prevented something worse from happening. But what I had you do was wake a sleeping giant."

"We all agreed to do it," said Daryl.

"Yeah, I know," Rick conceded, "but at the end of the day, it was still my call to make."

Daryl exhaled softly. He looked towards the window, watching the curtains dance in the breeze.

"I should've talked to you before," said Rick.

"How so?"

"Those men who killed Denise, they were just leftovers. Stragglers. They were running scared, they had no where else to go. We would find them and we would handle them. They weren't a threat. I was wrong. After she died, I should have come to you. I should have known what you were going to do."

Daryl dropped his head, engulfed once again by a fresh wave of anger and guilt.

"So whose fault is it?" Rick continued. "We can go around the room, confessing our sins, but in the end, it's like you said. We all agreed to do it. In the end, only one person killed Glenn."

"You were out looking for us," said Daryl. "For me, Michonne, Glenn, Rosita. You were out there because of us, weren't you?"

"No. We were out there because of Maggie."

Daryl stared questioningly at him.

"Something was wrong with the baby," Rick explained. "We needed to get her to Dr. Carson, we needed to get her to the Hilltop. That's why we left. So if you think about it, Glenn would have been there no matter what happened. He never would have stayed behind while his wife was so sick."

"The baby," said Daryl. "It's going to be ok? Maggie, she ok?"

Rick looked down at his feet. "She needs to rest."

That was cryptic as hell and Daryl didn't like it. "But the baby?"

"She almost lost it," Rick confessed. "Whatever it was that made her sick, plus the stress of everything... but that's one tough kid. Gets it from its parents. I count our blessings when we can."

Daryl laid his head back, relief coursing through him. He was fighting off the growing urge to nod off, he noticed. His eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute, though the pain in his shoulder had dulled significantly. It must have been the drug he took. It seemed to have finally started to take effect.

Rick was looking off into space, staring angrily at a fixed point in the wall. He had his hands balled into fists under his chin. Tears were pooling in his eyes. "Maggie didn't deserve this," he whispered. "Glenn didn't deserve this. Everything is so completely fucked..."

He sniffed loudly, wiping away at his face and glancing down at his feet again.

"What do we do now, man?" Daryl asked, softly.

"We do what Negan says," Rick answered. "We give him half of our supplies. What other choice do we have? He beat us. He won. We had no idea who we were dealing with. We have to play by his rules for now. Truth is... truth is, I don't know what to do."

Rick looked at Daryl like a man lost. It was a kind of vulnerability not often seen or shown, and it humbled Daryl to hear Rick admit that to him. There was a level of trust there not to be taken for granted.

"I have to get back to Alexandria," said Rick. "Negan will be there in three days. That's how long he's given us to gather everything we've got for his tribute."

"Our people back home, they don't know what's coming," said Daryl. "We gotta warn Carol, prepare her for this. She don't even know about Glenn yet."

Rick's face froze. He seemed to take a deep breath, staring back at Daryl with a strange look in his eyes. Daryl squinted at him.

"What is it?"

Rick leaned back, exhaling slowly. He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding Daryl's eyes. He had that distinctive look of a man about to brace himself.

"About Carol..."

Daryl felt a sudden, tightening pain in his chest. His heart began to race, and he found he couldn't move or breathe. No. What about Carol? What fresh new hell was this? Don't do this to me, man, he thought. Don't do this to me, please. It was Daryl's turn to stare back at Rick with a frozen look of fear. He didn't speak. He didn't have to. His eyes said it all.

"That morning before we left for the Hilltop, after you had already gone," Rick began, "Tobin came to the door and gave me a note. Carol had left it. Some time during the night, she slipped out. She took off. She left because she said she'd have to kill for us, and she couldn't do that anymore. It was her decision. She told us not to follow her. She didn't say where she was going, she didn't say she was coming back." Rick paused, letting out a sigh. "She's gone, Daryl. I wish it were different, but this was her choice. I'm sorry, brother. I'm sorry."

A rushing sound filled Daryl's ears. He felt like he was going to fall, fall into a endless black pit and be swallowed up whole. He saw Denise, her dying words still on her lips, as his own crossbow bolt entered her eye and ended her life. He saw Glenn, pleading with him to come home, fighting his way to get to Maggie, Dwight pointing his crossbow at him in the dirt. He saw the bat come down, he heard Glenn's last breath, and there was Carol. Carol slipping out into the darkness, not looking back, not saying goodbye. Not knowing or caring what this would do to him. Hurt, anger, betrayal. All of it hit him at once like a punch to the face. But worse of all was guilt. Guilt that he couldn't stop her. Guilt that he couldn't save anyone anymore. Tears prickled at his eyes, hot and burning. It was too much.

Daryl sent the glass flying, smashing it into the wall where it burst into a thousand tiny pieces.

"SHE TRIED PULLING THIS SHIT BEFORE, MAN! I WAS THERE, I STOPPED HER, I BROUGHT HER BACK!"

Rick jumped in his chair, stunned into silence. Daryl rounded on him.

"WE'RE HER FAMILY! YOU DON'T WALK OUT ON FAMILY! YOU DON'T EVER TURN YOUR BACK ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE!"

Searing pain shot up and down his shoulder. Daryl hunched over, gripping his right arm still stuck in its sling. He glared at Rick. "Didn't ANYONE go after her?!"

"We did!" Rick assured him, quickly. "Morgan and I, we did. She took one of the cars at the gate. We drove out, found it abandoned on the road. There were signs of where she could have gone. Morgan kept looking. He's still looking. He's gonna find her, Daryl. He's gonna bring her back."

"MAN, IT SHOULDN'T BE HIM OUT THERE!" Daryl threw the sheets off him, rolling awkwardly on his left.

"The hell are you doing?" said Rick, but Daryl ignored him. He reached the edge of the bed, sitting up wobbly, the IV ripped from his hand.

"Daryl, lie back down!"

But he was already on his feet, staggering drunkenly towards the door. "NOT UNTIL I FIND HER AND DRAG HER ASS BACK MY..."

Daryl collapsed to the floor in a heap.

It took several tries to heave Daryl off the floor and carry him back to the bed. He crumpled down, letting out a moan and a sob through gritted teeth.

The room fell silent again. A steady boom boom boom pounded in Daryl's head. As quickly as it came, the fight had left him. He was fading fast, losing focus. A hazy, sleepiness crept over him, and he welcomed it. It would be so easy to just let the drugs take effect. To close his eyes and drift away. He stared hopelessly at the ceiling.

"Where's she gonna go?" he said, his voice thick and hoarse. "It ain't no better out there than it is here. Hell, it's worse. What was she thinking?"

"I don't know," said Rick. "I wish I could tell you. I wish I knew she had felt this way. If she had told someone, anyone... I dunno, we could've worked something out. We could've tried to help her."

Daryl laughed humorlessly. He felt his heart sink deep into his chest until it landed with a thud in his gut.

"I couldn't help her," he whispered. "She's done everything for me and I couldn't do this one thing. I should've tried harder. I should've been there for her. I should've done something."

His vision began to blur. The room began to sway. He was tired. So very tired.

"You're the most important person in her life, Daryl," said Rick. "There's a reason for that. She loves you, man. If you couldn't get through to her, if you couldn't see this coming... then I don't know who else could."

There came a small knock at the door, and the woman in the blue dress re-entered the room. She looked nervously at Rick. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "I heard raised voices. Did something break in here?"

Daryl could barely hear Rick's explanation for the broken glass and sudden outburst. His eyes were going in and out of focus, and all other sounds meshed together, as though from far away.

"Who took his IV out?" The woman bounded up to Daryl's bedside, reattaching the IV into his hand, taping it in place. "Did he take the pill on the table?"

"I don't know," said Rick. "Maybe."

"It's for the pain, but it should help him sleep, too." The woman placed a hand on Daryl's forehead. "He's burning up."

Quickly she turned, heading towards the door. "I'll be back," she said over her shoulder. "I need to get something to cool him down."

"Thank you, Helen," said Rick, and he watched as she vanished out into the hallway.

The light from the window seemed to dim. Daryl wondered if the sun was going down. That had to explain why the room was so dark.

"Daryl, I need you to listen," he thought he heard Rick say then. "I can't stay here much longer. In a few more hours, we'll be heading home. You've gotta get your strength back. So the best thing for you to do is to stay here. You won't be alone. Maggie's staying. For her sake and the baby's, she needs to be close to Dr. Carson. We're gonna figure this out. We're gonna make that son of a bitch pay for what he did to Glenn, I promise you. We'll find Carol. No matter what happens, we'll bring her home. It's gonna be ok."

Daryl turned his head, staring up at Rick. Tears were streaming down his face.

"Why would she do this, man?"

Darkness came down like a curtain. Heavy eyes closed shut, blocking out the world for good.

He would get no answer.