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[ About what he expects. On the other hand, he's talking and probably not craving human flesh, which is actually a literal fucking miracle so how bad can it be? ]

Maggie know?

I let her know first. Didn't really talk to her face to face.

[ Because she would worry and ask questions, and Carl's not sure how much he can handle of that right now. There's... a lot to process. ]

[ Not quite trusting himself to speak, he nods. It's good, Maggie should know. He should-- well, they should talk about it, but what the hell are they gonna say?

After a moment, he steadies, careful. ]

Anything we can do?

Not really? Sorry.. I'm not being very helpful.

[ Not really anything any of them can do while he's on the Marsiva. ] Mostly I'm just really tired.

Nothin to be sorry about. Just get some rest.

A little easier said than done, but I'm trying.

Yeah.

[ He breathes out, slow, not quite a sigh but awful close. He'd like to say something worthwhile, something that'd make a difference-- but he's pretty sure there isn't anything. ]

Will you.. keep an eye on Maggie? Until I get back? I know I made things harder for her.

Yeah. 'Course.

[ He pauses, not quite sure what to say, but-- ]

'M glad... [ Aloud, it sounds fucking idiotic. Hey, the thing where you're not dead? That's great! Jesus. ] I'm just glad.

[ Fuck.

Exhibit A: why Daryl doesn't like talking about feelings. Sorry, Carl. ]

[ Welp. There it is, Daryl. A genuine smile. It's small and goes away quickly, but you did it. ]

Thanks, Daryl.

[ It leaves him feeling... better, sort of, but also vaguely embarrassed. ]

No problem.

[ And with an awkward nod, he cuts the feed off there, before he ends up feeling even stupider about something. ]

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