If Carol were home when fist met wall she'd have done -- something. She can't quite say what, but when she finally peeks in Daryl's room and sees the result of his over-boiling, her first thought is that she should have been there, that she could have made a difference for him. Somehow.

For herself, what's left in the wake of Rick's absence is mixed feelings. Lost opportunities. Redemption he offered but she couldn't truly accept because he simply didn't know. Standing in the bathroom doorway and watching Daryl's reflection watch the water over his hand, Carol's turmoil gives way to grief, shared and otherwise.

Rick was -- is family, but more than that he was constant. A compass for the group in all ways. His absence weighs her down on the wrong side of the doorjamb for a long, quiet moment before she shrugs it off, as she must, and steps inside.

Against Daryl's back she rests, cheek on his shoulder, arms slipping around him, comfort both offered and requested.