There a times when the world doesn't seem any uglier to him than it's always been, and not because he's sugar coating it now. Other times... Well, that's what makes them who they are, the way they make their choices. They have to survive, and sometimes that means they do things they don't like. Sometimes they get carried away; there isn't a one of them, he thinks, who hasn't strayed, hasn't gone too far. The difference is that when they do they recognize it. It's just as easy for some people to keep on, to pass the point of no return and never look back. That's not who she is, or him, or any of them.

He doesn't know what it means to her, really, losing Rick here and now. Daryl has a hard time wrapping his head around Rick casting her out, he can't begin to understand how he'd be okay with it (but maybe he won't be; he hopes he won't be, he owes her that,) but Rick hasn't done that yet, he's been here. There's never a sliver of doubt in Daryl's mind that he and Rick are brothers, that he's going to stand behind the other man for as long as they've got, but Carol's had her run-ins with him all along. She's trusted him, more or less, but it's always been complicated. More now than ever. She's grieving, though, like he is; if he can offer a little comfort even as he looks for it, that's all to the better.

He's a little too dysfunctional to call a romantic, maybe, but he wants to do right by her if he's gonna do anything. For now he absently twines their fingers together, the tiniest reassurance that they're both still here, together.