[ Panic slid through his veins, churning up his mostly empty stomach but he tried to keep it all to himself; the very same situation as his whole 'not sleeping' thing. The regret and the nightmares made it too difficult and now there were too many other skeletons hanging in his closet, accusing him of all the misfortune he caused. He took it upon his shoulders as the leader and swallowed down all the blame, all the guilt to tear him apart from the inside out.

There were so many things he should have done differently and how much more blood could stain his hands before he never felt clean again? How much longer could all of them go before they shattered and finally gave up? They had been through so much and peace never seemed to last very long. Foolishly, he really believed things would be different in Alexandria and they could build a whole new life together, winning against the walkers. Building a society again of the living but the shadows had come to collect and they gathered around like wavering tombstones ready to push each one of them in.

Head tilting, he gazed over at Daryl, noticing the same haunted expression and rising desperation. He had endured too much and the guilt he felt towards him nearly overwhelmed all his senses.

Negan took him and did who knew what to him while in captivity, something Rick couldn't even save him from.

What could he do? Could he even lead anymore?

He had to. ]

You alright? [ Rick asked softly, getting up from his chair to squat down in front of Daryl, ignoring the pain it ignited with his hip. He wanted to reach out but knew better than to attempt it, especially now. Daryl had never been a touchy feely person and he couldn't imagine anything changed in the past few weeks. ] We'll figure this out. There's got to be other communities and we've got - we'll find a way. We always do. You believe that, right? [ He didn't know who he meant to convince - himself or Daryl here. ]