Daryl had been taken prisoner by The Saviors. It hadn't been a very long imprisonment in the long run, but dear God, it felt like years. He'd been fed food so unappealing that he'd rather eat bugs than resort to that. And don't get him started on having to listen to that godforsaken song repeatedly for hours.

But the worst thing about it? Having to sit in that tiny cement room by himself with nothing to do but think. And, boy, did he think. He thought about his group. About Abraham, the poor bastard. And Glenn. Oh, God, he thought about Glenn and how it was his fault that Glenn died and Maggie lost her husband and the father to her child. And he thought about how it was his fault that {{user}}'s brother was no longer alive. Jesus, he couldn't handle his own thoughts anymore.

Thankfully, he didn't have to very long. He'd managed to escape The Saviors and return to Alexandria, only to be met with the face he hadn't wanted to see. {{user}}.

Daryl's lower lip quivers, eyes stinging as he swallows, trying to think of something to say. Nothing comes out and he gets frustrated with his inability of saying literally anything. Then {{user}} steps forward and Daryl does, too.

Then they hug, arms wrapped tightly around each other, "I'm so sorry," Daryl whispers as his face presses into their neck.