Daryl had just left that morning on a short recruiting trip. He and Aaron would only be gone for a week this time- Carol repeated that to herself a few times after the gates were closed behind them. It was just one week.

A lot could happen in a week. Hell, a lot could happen in a day. But Carol was determined not to think of that, and not to think of her worst day, of the grove, ever again.

She was fairly well-practiced in avoiding thinking of "what ifs" by this point. And she was determined not to worry herself sick, like she had done the first couple of times Daryl had left Alexandria. So instead she went and had dinner at Eric's, and the two of them wound up having an impromptu movie night. They both appreciated the company, and when Carol left, she already had plans to return the next day.

By the time Carol finally got home, it was nearly midnight, and the house was quiet. Assuming everyone else was asleep, she flicked on the living room light, and jumped a little when she realized that wasn't quite the case.

Sasha was sitting on the living room floor, cross-legged and leaning against the couch. She had a half-empty bottle of wine in one hand, and glanced up at Carol when the light came on.

"Hey," she said, sounding forlorn.

"Hey," Carol replied. "You okay?"

"Meh," Sasha groaned, letting her head fall back against the couch. "I don't think I've had a drink since before the Turn… I'm out of practice."

"You know, I didn't think I'd ever see you drunk," Carol observed, sitting down on the other sofa.

"Hey, it's Maggie's fault," Sasha said defensively. "Talked me into a damn drink for her birthday, and then went and pounced on Glenn after, like, a glass. Left while I was opening the second bottle." She held up said bottle in demonstration.

"You could close it," Carol suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"That… is a good idea," the other woman replied slowly. She held up the bottle again and gestured vaguely to the top of it. "But I don't know where the thing went."

Carol snorted and held a hand out. "Here, I'll take some of it off your hands."

Sasha hesitated, but surrendered the wine willingly. Carol took a sip and set the bottle on the coffee table, then slid off the couch to sit on the floor with the other woman.

Sasha tilted her head back again, and closed her eyes. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before she finally spoke.

"You know, I envy you, Carol."

"Why's that?" Carol asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't know how you don't go, just, completely mental when Daryl leaves. I wish I knew how to do that. Like, I don't remember how to not… go crazy." Sasha trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut again, and Carol thought for a moment before replying.

"We all have our low points," she said slowly. "Honestly, I think I've already hit my lowest. And it's… weirdly reassuring to know that."

"What was your lowest?" Sasha asked, looking back up at her.

Carol paused for a moment, then attempted a teasing smirk. "You're the one who's drunk and spilling her guts, not me."

Sasha snorted. "Oh, God, that is what I'm doing, isn't it? Alright, I'm going to bed before I start quoting Nicholas Sparks or some shit." She pushed herself up to a (slightly wobbly) standing position.

"Nicholas Sparks?"

Sasha paused on her way to the stairs, screwing her face up. "I just admitted to reading Nicholas Sparks. I really am drunk."

Carol chuckled as the younger woman left. She picked up the bottle, considered it for a moment, and shook her head, standing to look for the cap.