The dinner was Carl's idea, believe it or not. Daryl would've guessed the teenager would be too… teenager for it, but in the end his big brother instincts overcame his angst and he suggested the idea saying it'd be good for Judith and little Grace, the new addition to the family, to have something normal from Before.

So they got everyone together, both new and old, with decorations either improvised or scavenged and a real feast of different foods each community was able to provided.

A while ago, Daryl would've rolled his eyes at the idea— a waste of their time, and Christmas never meant much to him anyway even before the world ended, why should it matter now? But now, with morale so low after the loss of many and with a hopeful future ahead, the idea couldn't have been more welcome. Negan's dead, the Saviours either killed or reintegrated, so why not celebrate?

They earned that shit, that peace and quiet the celebration implies. They earned it with their own blood and sweat, by fighting for what's theirs and protecting their own, and so his family deserves to enjoy themselves even if just for one night. The little ones, too; they deserve something good and untainted.

So yeah, Daryl's in favor of the dinner. He just didn't count with the fact that he was supposed to actually be there.

"Stop being such a grump, Daryl. Even Carl is having fun."

Of course Carl is having fun, he and Enid keep 'accidentally' walking under the fake mistletoes hanged around the place whenever they think nobody is looking at them, giggling and blushing at each other and reminding Daryl simultaneously just how young the two actually are and how much they've grown.

He doesn't say any of that, though.

"They're kids, this shit is supposed to be fun for 'em," Daryl answers instead, shrugging at Carol.

"It's supposed to be fun for everybody, not just children and teenagers. But true enough." She smiles at him sweetly, and somehow it feels like a trap. Carol looks at where Carl currently is, talking with Enid with his little sister in his lap. "Doesn't hurt that Enid is here either, I suppose."

Daryl grunts in agreement. He almost doesn't resist smiling at the view, what with Carl pretending to talk through Judith and the little girl laughing as she mimics a puppet; he's proud of the kid that he watched mature and harden, barely believing how just much he's grown. Carl's a good kid, Daryl's proud of him… even though he's using his little sister as game.

He wonders if Merle ever felt the same way when Daryl was growing up.

"Jesus is here too, you know," Carol points out, and all Daryl thinks is ah, there's the catch. He knew there was something she wanted."I saw him earlier, talking with Maggie and Tara. He was looking for you."

Daryl knows; he's been avoiding him on purpose.

His thoughts on the scout have been confusing from the start, and after… things happened, Daryl really doesn't to remember any of it, even less talk with him about it

A while passes by when he doesn't reply, and Carol quietly nods at the teenagers again when Enid kisses the boy's cheek discreetly. "They think they're sneaky, those two," she says, though it doesn't feel like she's talking about the teens. Fuckin' Carol.

Someone calls for Carol's attention, saving Daryl from having to answer, and he doesn't miss the way the woman's eyes light up when she sees King Ezekiel waving at her. Huh. That's new. She looks back at him, aware of what he had noticed, and she seems different now somehow. Lighter, happier. The Carol they had before the prison fell; strong, sharp, but still happy and full of life.

He might not like the dude, but damn if he didn't miss that look on her. Though she was always beautiful now she looks radiant, with her cheeks rosy and a genuine smile in her eyes.

Of course it's then that she decides to speak again.

"Anyway, I thought you should know I told him where you are and he's coming your way."

Shit.

Daryl looks away from the teens to where Carol had been purposefully misdirecting his attention from, and just as he thought there was Jesus walking in his direction with an hesitant smile on his face, and it's when Daryl looks at his face that he remembers. He remembers the jokes, the subtly flirting that at first went over Daryl's head until the other got bolder. He remembers sharing bottles of whiskey as they sat on watch together, he remembers fighting side by side at war.

Daryl remembers thinking fuck it and kissing Jesus within an inch of his life, pushing the man against the nearest wall and just diving into the touch, losing himself to it until the other touched his back and the hunter ran like the coward he truly is.

Their eyes meet and shit, he saw that Daryl saw him already.

There's no way to avoid this, is there?

"Now Daryl, that man has been searching for you the entire dinner so you better not run now, you hear me? I'll be very disappointed, you're better than that," Carol tells him, and her voice playfully serious though he knows her enough to know she means it. "I'll let you two talk alone, good luck."

Carol turns to him, and though it wasn't entirely unusual of her Daryl is still surprised when she leans in and plants a big kiss on his cheek, waiting for a few seconds before moving away and start fixing his hair in that mother-hen way she always fusses over him. Normally he'd just shrug her off with a fond eye-roll, but the reason why she's doing it hits him and makes his ears go red as he tries to play off the gesture, which just amuses the woman.

She starts to leave, Jesus now almost close to them, but not before turning to him one last time to say: "Oh, and Daryl?"

"Wha'?"

"You're under a mistletoe."