Home wasn't Alexandria's high walls or the neat rows of pristine houses behind them. For Aaron, home was the sight of Eric just beyond the gate, lips turned up in that impish grin that said he knew a secret and could be induced to tell if the price was right. Home was the way it felt to feel his arms wind around Eric's neck, his breath warm on the side of his face when he whispered, "I missed you." Home was walking toward their house, shoulders brushing and fingers twined together.

Daryl gave him a curt nod as he slipped past, pushing the bike as he headed toward the house he shared with his group. Despite being back in Alexandria, the man's back was taut beneath his angel wing vest; his jaw set and his knuckles white on the handlebars as he made his way down the street.

Hand in hand with Eric, Aaron stared after his recruiting partner and wondered what home was to Daryl.

"How'd it go?" Eric's voice cut through Aaron's musings.

He grimaced and then shrugged. "He talked a little bit but sometimes I feel like I'm tearing at a brick wall with my bare hands. Everything they went through to get here, it left a mark on him. He's got it together for the most part but underneath, he's still bleeding. They all are."

Eric paused, opened his mouth and then closed it again, his brows drawing in. Aaron recognized it as his 'I'm thinking' look and made himself wait until Eric chose to share his thoughts. "Deanna deemed them worthy to join the community and she's rarely wrong in the way she reads people. Michonne said they were almost out there too long. I think she's right. They aren't broken, not by a long shot, but whatever they faced is still close to the surface."

Their steps slowed and they squared off in the middle of the street, hands linked between them. This tendency to meet halfway was one of many reasons why they simply worked. Aaron relied on it, depended upon it, appreciated it when Eric shared his opinions. He often considered angles that Aaron wouldn't have seen on his own. He nodded and then continued to wait because it was obvious that Eric wasn't done.

"You need to talk with someone from his group, feel them out, get a sense of their history. He opened up a bit this trip. Maybe use that as a jumping off point?"

"Yeah," Aaron rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That might work. Which one though? Glenn was my first choice."

Eric caught his nod in the middle of the motion, stared off in the direction of the decorative lake, and abruptly smiled. He tightened his fingers on Aaron's and then jerked his head slightly. Aaron followed his gaze and saw Carol Peletier sitting by the water, arms resting atop her knees. Her plain white shirt was a stark contrast to the fussy floral cardigan neatly folded beneath her elbows. Her unguarded expression was so sad, it was painful to see.

"What about her?"

"You're thinking about when we saw them go off alone back on the road," Aaron stated rather than asked. "Before the barn." He didn't need Eric's acknowledging nod to follow his line of reasoning. That scene had sealed the deal for both of them back when they were following Rick's group, gauging whether or not to bring them in.

It was one of the few times Aaron had left his eavesdropping equipment in his pack. Instead he watched as the tiny woman with the huge rifle on her shoulder and the hunter who seemed like a volcano waiting to erupt wandered away from the rest. They squared off in a meadow, speaking too quietly to hear but their actions spoke loud and clear. A knife exchanged hands and the hunter seemed to crumble, his slumped shoulders and devastated eyes radiating grief like a beacon. The woman, her hands unspeakably gentle as she brushed his hair back and let them trail down his arm before pulling him down so that she could kiss his forehead.

"I can't let myself…but you…I know you. You have to let yourself feel it. You will." Her soft words carried through the still air to where Aaron crouched in the trees. He watched her turn and walk away without a backwards glance, heading back to the road. Aaron decided to follow the hunter instead, watching from a short distance away as the man sat cross legged under a tree and quietly fell apart. In that moment, he decided to approach them.

"You're right," he conceded. "I'll go talk with her now and then I'll meet you back at the house." Eric too his pack and slung it over his shoulder before kissing him lightly and then leaving him to it. He waited until he was out of sight before heading in Carol's direction. Wide blue eyes cut toward him and then through him as he knelt beside her, mimicking her pose.

"You're home," she observed, looking past him and toward the empty street. A hint of panic sparked in the depths of that bland gaze.

"He's okay. Last I saw, he was on his way back to the house," Aaron reassured her and then noted the way her shoulders eased and an almost to quiet sigh escaped her lips. "I was hoping that you and I could talk."

Carol's lips pursed, a small furrow opening up in her forehead as her fingers beat out an unsteady rhythm on her leg, betraying her unease. "Of course," she returned a bit too brightly. "Whatever I can do to help."

He drew in a deep breath and then plunged in, watching every nuance of her reaction. "It's about Daryl."

He wasn't prepared for the utter look of heartbreak that blossomed on her face before she caught herself.