Aaron scoffs, a quiet little sound, more of a breath than anything. It's another in a long line of testaments to Daryl's apparently indefatigable kindness, and he appreciates that, really, but- it makes him feel stuck. Trapped in a tiny spotlight. A petri dish of mourning.

"I don't-" He shakes his head, biting back something pointless and hollow. No, doesn't Daryl deserve honesty? "I'm not sure I really need anything."

Except, of course, the one thing. But that, no one can provide.