Less than a handful of minutes ago, Aaron would have thought Daryl meant his moping. Now, standing between shelves of ancient wine, Aaron doesn't immediately envelop the criticism into himself out of grief. That's the general power of Daryl's gentle presence; it's why he deserves some acknowledgement, from time to time.

But Aaron is still tired with mourning, and doesn't have the energy within him to ignore the things he'd usually ignore for Daryl's sake. "What," he says, "thanking you?"