Rick couldn't concentrate on the book he'd been trying to read for the last hour. He was too excited. That and he just wasn't into John Grisham at the moment. He'd have to peruse the town library again to see what else he could find. Marking his place, he closed the volume and placed it on the table next to his chair.

Glancing at his watch—thankful for the supply of watch batteries discovered on the last run—he glanced at the time. Twelve-fifteen in the morning. He felt as if he'd been waiting forever. Maybe it had been long enough. Maybe it was time. He hoped so.

A soft sigh, followed by a quiet inhalation of breath was the only sound on this quiet night. Glancing over to the other side of the room, his gaze took in the sleeping form of his daughter, resting peacefully even as her fingers moved ever so slightly on the soft fur of the pink teddy bear lying next to her. The pink teddy bear Daryl had found on a run. Rick smiled to himself at the memory of the hunter, covered in blood, walker guts, and who knows what else, holding the pristine pink bear out almost timidly as if he was afraid it would be rejected. Of course it was Judith's favorite toy. It was almost as if she knew it was a gift from her Uncle Daryl.

Shaking himself mentally and returning to the present he began thinking about the hours ahead, and the work laid out before him. He felt a giddiness inside, an excitement he hadn't felt in quite some time. Rising from his chair, he padded softly to the doorway where he stopped, listening to the silence beyond. Nothing. That was a good sign. Grasping the doorknob he opened the door as slowly and quietly as he could, wondering all the while if this was what a burglar felt like - breaking and entering as silently as possible in an effort not to disturb the inhabitants of the house.

With the door half open, Rick peered down the darkness of the hall. All doors were firmly closed, with only silence behind them. Beyond Daryl's door he could hear the faintest sounds of slumber, heavy breathing, an occasional snore. That was a good sign. He and Carol had done their best to wear the hunter out—double shifts on watch, a morning run to a neighboring community, work around Alexandria itself. It had been obvious that Daryl hadn't wanted to spend his afternoon helping Mrs. Niedermeyer clean her garage, but as usual, he did what was asked of him. No complaints. Their goal was to exhaust the man and judging by the soft sounds coming from his room, it sounded like their plan had worked. Success!

It was time to proceed. He mentally rubbed his hands together in excitement and expectation. The giddiness he felt carried him onward, although he told himself firmly that as a former deputy and current constable, he did not experience giddiness, but merely extreme enthusiasm.

Making his way to the next door he stopped just outside, hesitant to knock and awaken anyone other than Carol. As he stood still, contemplating his next move, the door opened and the Rick found himself face to face with the object of his thoughts — Carol.

The woman had a huge grin plastered across his face, evidence of her own excitement and anticipation of the hours to come.

"He's finally asleep," Carol whispered her quiet voice. "I thought he'd never drop-off. I could hear him tossing and turning all the way over here. He was as excited as a kid on, well, Christmas Eve." Carol laughed quietly at her play on words and Rick found himself returning the chuckle.

Although he would never tell her, Rick was laughing as much at the evidence of Carol's obvious exhilaration as he was at Daryl's wonderment and hope of what was to - hopefully - come. Of course, the hunter would never admit it to anyone, but he was excited. Well, he and Carol would make sure that their friend's expectations were met, met beyond his wildest dreams.

Thinking back to the conversation that led to this moment, he felt a wave of sadness wash over him. Time had lost much of its meaning to Rick and his group. Survival was what was important and what did it matter if it was October 10th or 11th? Holidays had been swept to the wayside in favor of focusing on just making it to the next day. Now, however, things were different.

Here in Alexandria, life went on much as it had before. The inhabitants knew that it was October 10th and not the 11th. And they marked the days off until the holidays arrived. Here, holidays were things to be celebrated. A way of commemorating the fact that they had made it this far in the terrifying new world in which they found themselves. And tomorrow, according to the people of Alexandria, was Christmas. Well, today, considering it was after midnight.

Relaxing together just a week ago, the conversation had moved to the upcoming holiday. Carl and some of the others had been enthusiastic, barely able to contain their excitement at the thought of celebrating Christmas once again. At the thought of bringing some sense of normality and the familiar back into their lives. Abe and some of the others, however, were still a bit skeptical.

"Don't forget what's going on now," the former soldier had barked. "Just because we're here now doesn't mean we're safe. Those things are still out there. The world as we knew it is gone and we can't let down our guard!"

"I know that," Carl had replied. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun!"

Rick, himself, had intervened before the conversation had a chance to grow more heated.

"Look, we all know nothing has really changed. You're right, Abe, it's still a dangerous world and we need to be on our guard. But you're right too, Carl. We can still have fun and maybe try to enjoy some of the things we used to enjoy."

This exchange had led into reminiscences about Christmases past with everyone sharing their favorite gifts, dinners, and traditions. Rick remembered recounting the first Christmas Carl had been old enough to understand who Santa Claus was. Just recalling the wonder in the three year old's eyes and voice as he came down the stairs and saw the tree and presents was enough to make him smile now.

But his smile vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared as he recalled Daryl's response. The normally confident hunter had sat there looking like a laboratory specimen as all eyes turned to him, waiting for him to share his favorite Christmas memory.

When none was forthcoming, Maggie tried to prod him.

"Come on, Daryl. It's your turn. What do you remember most? What was your favorite Christmas?"

The man turned his gaze to her for just a moment, before looking over at Rick, seemingly pleading silently with him for assistance. Rick just smiled and shrugged at him, waiting for the other man to speak.

Finally, after several moments of silence, the hunter spoke, his voice so soft it was difficult to hear the words.

"Never really celebrated Christmas before."