Hopin' and Wishin' and a Merry Christmas to All!
"Christmas is just a waste of time! All that hopin' and wishin' ain't goin' to change nothin'!"
The words echoed in Daryl's mind as he crept down the stairs leading to the common room of his prison home. Okay. He could admit when he was wrong. He'd made a mistake. The look on Carl's face as he absorbed Daryl's harsh statement had haunted him ever since. The boy had been crushed. That much was obvious. And in that moment the hunter had realized that he was, indeed, wrong.
Maybe he had never been able to experience the holiday but that didn't mean others shouldn't. He forgot sometimes that Carl was still just a kid. Oh, maybe he acted like an adult and he'd certainly learned to defend himself and fight like an adult, but that didn't change the fact that he was still only fifteen years old. Maybe the boy needed this. Hell, maybe they all needed this. A brief respite from the horrors they had to face every day.
So Daryl Dixon began planning his very first Christmas surprise. The others gleefully immersed themselves in the holiday as the week wore on, hauling in a tree and decorating it with paper chains and some ornaments Glenn had scavenged on one of his runs. The hunter had to admit it looked nice and It caused him to feel something he wasn't used to experiencing—excitement and anticipation.
For someone who had originally scoffed at the idea of celebrating the holiday, Daryl had thrown himself into it with everything he had. Secret runs, ostensibly for food and medical supplies resulted in a growing stash of gifts for the Grimes children. He found himself going farther and farther afield until one day he hit a Toys 'R' Us—and amazingly it was intact. Apparently toys weren't go-to items in the zombie apocalypse.
And now, here he was, standing in front of a store he was totally unfamiliar with. Oh, he'd heard of it of course, but there'd never been a need for him to actually go to one. Not so now though. Entering the building cautiously, crossbow at the ready— he was almost instantly overwhelmed by the rows and rows of toys—playthings for every age and every interest. Stopping just past the threshold, he scanned the tableau in front of him, his senses nearly overwhelmed by the plethora of playthings everywhere he looked.
For a brief instant a memory of his own, toyless, childhood flashed through his mind, only to be ruthlessly and quickly pushed down. Squashed. He remembered kids at school talking about their fun-filled trips to this Mecca of toys. There'd been a Toys 'R' Us in a neighboring town, but of course the Dixons never darkened its doorway, even though Daryl remembered pleading with his Pa to take him one day. All he'd gotten for his efforts was a black eye and a bruised cheek, and the knowledge that toy centers like this weren't for the likes of him. He never asked again. Now, years later, he was standing at the threshold of what looked to be every child's dream come true.
Casting his gaze around the front of the store he searched and listened for any sign of life, of movement. Quiet. Didn't seem to be anyone—or anything—here but him. Resolved to remain on guard, however, he kept his crossbow aimed and cocked as he began to move forward, grabbing an abandoned shopping cart as he did so.
Scanning the shelves in front of him, the hunter crept quietly and slowly through the aisles, alert for any sound or movement, quite aware of the irony of his situation. Here he was pushing a shopping cart through an abandoned toy store during the zombie apocalypse. Chuckling to himself he shook his head. At least he finally made it here! Better late than never.
Walking through the corridors lined with every imaginable toy known to man, Daryl marveled at the plethora of items available. Periodically he would grab an item and toss it in the basket, excited at the prospect of surprising the Grimes children. And then, rounding the corner from the superheroes section to Disney Princess wonderland, he stopped in his tracks, surveying the wondrous sight before him. Jackpot! He'd hit the motherlode. This was exactly what he'd been looking for, even though he hadn't even known it at the time. Thankful that he'd had the foresight to bring the truck, he felt a thrill of anticipation sweep through him as he moved forward to begin gathering items.
Now, three days later, Daryl was thanking his lucky stars that the prison had so many hidden spaces—areas that were perfect for hiding gifts from prying eyes. Standing in the doorway of his secret storage room, he surveyed the mound of gifts he'd accumulated over the past weeks. Biding his time, he'd waited (not so) patiently for the others to retire for the night, thankful that Judith was so excited that she fell asleep in her father's cell instead of her own. And then, once everyone had settled down for the night and not a creature—so to speak—was stirring, Daryl got to work, laboring quietly through the darkness of nighttime and into the early hours of morning. Finally, taking a moment to stand and survey the fruits of his labor, he nodded in contentment. Yes, this was going to be good. And now, off to bed if only for an hour or two.
"Daddy! Daddy! He came! He came!"
Daryl slowly came back to awareness, climbing up through the fogginess of sleep, his usual state of alertness overshadowed by the exhaustion of the previous days—and night. Lying on his bed on the perch he could hear the sounds of the prison coming to life. Cracking his eyes open he glanced over towards the window, noting the dimness of a still rising sun. It was early yet, he realized.
"Oh daddy! Look! Look! Daryl! Carl! Come and see what he brought!"
Sitting up quickly, the hunter took a moment to gain his bearings as he went suddenly from half-asleep to complete wakefulness. Judith! Little Asskicker was awake! And judging by the other voices he was now hearing, so were the rest of them. Climbing to his feet, Daryl rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the stairs and down to the common room, noting the others—some awake, some half-asleep—making their way out of their cells and into what Glenn had dubbed their "family room."
Stopping at the threshold just short of entering, Daryl surveyed the scene in front of him. Rick and Carol, Glenn and Maggie and now even Hershel and Beth were standing inside the room, smiling at Carl and Judith as they looked around with eyes wide, expressions of happiness and excitement on both of their faces.
'Yes,' he thought, 'a night (mostly) without sleep was well worth it for this.'
Looking around the room he took in the decorations his family had created over the last week, the tree surrounded by presents at its base, some of them wrapped with actual wrapping paper, others covered by an assortment of clothing and other materials and whatever else had been handy and available to the wrapper. He realized that none of that mattered, though, as he took in the looks of pure joy on Carl and Judith's faces as they stared wide-eyed at all the gifts.
'Yes, totally worth it!'Ran through his mind, even as he suppressed a yawn.
"Dad, can we open them?" he heard Carl ask. And even though there were gifts for the adults as well, Rick nodded in the affirmative, seeming to recognize that everyone wanted to watch the kids open their presents first.
Daryl and the others watched as paper and cloth went flying to reveal an assortment of toys and other goods. So engrossed was he in observing the activities that he didn't even notice Rick moving to stand next to him until the other man nudged his shoulder and spoke softly, so only he could hear.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about all these presents would you?"
Shrugging, the hunter continued to watch the happy spectacle before him. His friend wasn't finished, though.
"Because I know for a fact there weren't that many packages there when I went to bed last night. And unless Santa Claus is real, I'd have to say that someone here is acting as one of his elves. And I'm thinking that all of your extra runs lately might have something to do with that. Am I right?"
Ducking his head momentarily, Daryl couldn't stop the redness he knew was creeping over his face. Shrugging again in the hopes of forestalling any more questions, he cast a glance over at his friend, seeing the wide smile he was wearing. The wide smile meant for him.
"And here I thought you said Christmas was a waste of time!" Rick finished with a wink at his friend.
The hunter just stood there, frozen to the spot, not sure how to respond. His eyes darted back and forth from the ecstatic kids to his friend standing next to him. Finally, shrugging again, he replied, speaking so softly the other man had to strain to hear.
"You never know. Maybe that Santa Claus is a real guy."
Rick chuckled at that, shaking his head in amusement.
"Yeah, we'll go with that. But Daryl…thank you."
Feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the attention and the praise, Daryl just continued to watch Carl and Judith open their gifts, totally unaware of the small smile gracing his face. A smile that grew as he saw how happy the two children were with their bounty.
"Dad! Daryl! Look. It's a dart board. I've always wanted one of these." This from Carl.
Rick nodded. "It's a beaut! We'll have to find a good place for you to hang it, somewhere out of the way where you can practice and where it won't matter if you miss."
"And look at this. Comic books. I've never read these."
Carl held up a stack of comics, most of them superheroes. Picking one up from the stack, he flipped through it before holding it up as well.
"I've never heard of this one but it really looks good. And there's a bunch of them here. This is great."
Daryl peered at the title. "Outcast." He'd seen a stack of them at the store and grabbed them all, not knowing if Carl had read them or not. He was glad he'd taken them, even more so now knowing that they were new to the boy.
As the pile of wrappings beside Carl continued to grow, and his gifts, everything from clothes to a new knife, also continued to expand, Daryl saw how the boy's happiness seemed to increase with them. The hunter felt a surge of warmth rush through him. Feeling a hand patting his shoulder, he realized with a start that this was Christmas. This feeling. And he had been oh so wrong before. This wasn't a waste of time.
Gazing around the common room Daryl took in the happy faces around him. All eyes were glued to the kids and everyone was feeding off their happiness. And he realized that even if their situation in this new world didn't change, they could still grasp moments of happiness and this surely was one of those.
A high-pitched squeal shook him out of his reverie, causing him to shift his focus to Judith. Glancing at Rick standing beside him, he watched as the four year old hugged the Disney Princess doll she had just unwrapped. Belle from "Beauty and the Beast."
"Look, Daddy. Daryl! Look how beautiful she is!"
Daryl felt a brief moment of sadness as he realized the little girl didn't really know Disney or the princesses, but her happiness with the gift showed him that her lack of Disney knowledge mattered not one bit.
Watching with amusement, he watched the youngster rip the paper off a small chest containing a plethora of clothes for Belle. Her excitement was contagious and the hunter could hear chuckles coming from around the room as the others smiled, feeding off her enthusiasm. More packages revealed a stroller and a bed for Belle and by this point Judith was practically bouncing around the room in her delight.
Looking over at her father and Daryl, she gave them a wide smile.
"Daddy! Daryl! Santa Claus did find us! Look at all this!"
The next package revealed a Disney Princess dress to match the doll's, complete with tiny high heels and a tiara. The four year old couldn't contain herself at this. Clutching the dress to her chest she whirled around the room, a huge smile on her face.
Another nudge to his shoulder caused the hunter to glance over at his friend once again.
"A princess dress, Daryl? A tiara?"
Chuckling, Rick looked at his friend with affection.
"I didn't think you had it in you, Daryl. Where did you find all of this?" Gesturing to the bounty of gifts being unwrapped, Rick waited for an answer.
Daryl just shrugged a shoulder in embarrassment, sure that his face was flaming once again.
"Around," was his only reply, spoken so softly Rick had to strain once again to hear it.
Shaking his head in amusement, the sheriff's deputy just smiled at his friend with affection. As he did so, something at the far side of the room caught his eye. Something that was out of place. Nudging the man next to him, he asked, "Do you know anything about that?"
Casting his gaze at the object in question, Daryl muttered quietly.
"What was that? Couldn't hear?" Rick asked with a smile.
"Jus' said I might," the hunter replied, before turning his attention back to the little girl. "Hey, Asskicker, what's that over there?" he asked, a little louder, not wanting to bring attention to himself.
The little girl stopped in the process of whirling around with her new dress and moved her focus to the wall on the far side of the room.
"What is it?" she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
"Don' know," Daryl replied. "Best go see for yourself."
Everyone watched as Judith made her way to the wall, moving towards what looked like the tarp Daryl used when he was hunting. The tarp he utilized for dressing and carrying deer and other large game. The tarp that was still covered in blood and who knew what else. It was thrown over something fairly large, covering it and hiding it from view. Daryl was so focused on the little girl's progress towards the object that he didn't notice the knowing and amused smiles flitting throughout the room. His total attention was dedicated to Judith and her quest.
Reaching the object the little girl looked back over her shoulder, as if asking for permission to proceed.
"Go ahead," Rick said, curious as to what was beneath the tarp.
Reaching out hesitantly, Judith grasped an edge of the material with one hand and pulled. When it only moved slightly she extended her other hand to assist. Slowly the cover began to move, sliding down to reveal what was hidden beneath it. A gasp from the little girl and many of the watching adults caused Daryl to struggle to contain the smile threatening to cover his face.
Though he'd been excited about all of his finds, this was the gift he'd been most excited for her to see. Well, this and one other one. Watching with amusement, he saw the four year old bouncing up and down, unable to contain her excitement.
"Oh look! Look what Santa brought me! Isn't it beautiful?"
"It is!" This from Maggie.
"It's gorgeous, sweetheart." Rick.
"Can I cook with you sometime?" Carol.
Judith nodded vigorously, even as she ran her hands over the gleaming pink and white counters and cabinets of her new kitchen, complete with pots and pans, toy food, plates, and silverware. It was fully equipped and its shiny newness almost looked out of place in the dingy room, though to Daryl it cast a bit of much needed brightness and light. Not just in the common room but in this frightening new world they found themselves in.
Sitting next to the kitchen was a little white wooden table with four chairs. Sitting on the table were tiny little placemats, pink to match the kitchen, and more plates and silverware. Tiny cups sat beside each plate. A little girl's dream.
The hunter was so lost in his reverie, very unusual for him, that he didn't even notice the little girl running over to him and grabbing his hand.
"Daryl! I want you to come cook with me! And then we can eat!"
Taken by surprise, he couldn't resist the hopeful smile looking up at him. Glaring daggers at everyone in the room, daring them to say anything, he reached down to take the little hand in his own and allowed himself to be led to the new kitchen, where he found himself being seated precariously on one of the tiny chairs. Terrified that he would break it, he sat silent and still, following the orders of the suddenly bossy four year old as she handed him a mixing bowl and a whisk and told him to stir.
"What should we make, Daryl?" the little girl asked, gazing up at him.
His brain momentarily frozen, the hunter found himself blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
"Squirrel stew!"
Before he could take it back and suggest something a bit more mainstream, and ignoring the chuckles he heard behind him, his companion squealed in excitement.
"Oh yes! I love squirrel stew! Here," thrusting a tiny cutting board and play knife at him, she continued, "you cut up the squirrel when you're done stirring."
Nodding in compliance Daryl did as he was told. Cutting and stirring, stirring and cutting. So engrossed was he in his task that he completely forgot about the others, was entirely oblivious to the affectionate gazes cast upon him as he played with the little girl. As the gruff hunter followed Judith's instructions, he realized that he was actually having fun. He was having fun using his imagination, something he'd never had much of an opportunity to do before, and he was truly enjoying the happiness and enthusiasm of the little girl standing next to him, directing his every move. And it dawned on him that he was actually 'playing', something he'd never really had the chance to do before, even as a child. And it was fun! Maybe, he thought, this is what Christmas is all about. Making others happy and losing yourself in their enjoyment. If that was the case, then Christmas wasn't all bad.
From across the room, Rick watched the two with affection. Observed Daryl rising from the tiny chair with grace and moving over to the miniature counter where he crouched down so he and Judith were at the same level. With a smile on his face he watched the two heads, one dark one light, bent studiously over their task as they finished their "stew" in the pot on the stove.
So intent were the two on their 'cooking' that they didn't even notice the others move to gather around the tree and begin to open their own gifts. It was the 'oohs' and 'aahhs' of happiness and excitement at the presents being opened that caused Daryl to finally lift his head and glance back at the others. Smiling to himself he felt a flutter of contentment as he watched his friends' happiness and their expressions of joy. All his secretive searching and scrounging was surely worth it if this was the end result.
While there had already been gifts under the tree—contributed by everyone there—he had added greatly to the pile during the night from his secret stash. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Maggie's huge grin at the music box he'd found, showing a rustic farm complete with animals. Beth's delight at the guitar he'd happened upon. Carol's excitement at the set of hunting knives—still new in their packaging. A new hat for Glenn, along with a huge book filled with interesting facts. Hershel's pleased expression at the stack of almanacs and religious books he'd discovered on one of his runs. And Rick's euphoria at the seed packets and the many supplies the hunter had tracked down for his small farm.
Gazing at his friends and basking in their happiness, Daryl's grin widened. Feeling a tug on his arm he looked down at his small companion.
"Are you ready to eat, Daryl? It's ready!"
Nodding solemnly he reached over to the table and grabbed a small plate, holding it out to her. Watching the small hand ladle the 'stew' onto his plate, the hunter allowed his smile to reach his eyes.
"Come on, Daryl. Let's sit down and eat."
Scooching over to the small table, he seated himself once again on the edge of a tiny chair, placing his plate on the placemat in front of him. Across from him, Judith did the same. Watching as she picked up a little fork, he followed suit, waiting for her to take the first 'bite'. Once she had done so, smacking her lips in pleasure, he dipped his fork into the 'stew' on his plate and raised it to his mouth. Taking a 'bite' he shook his head in pleasure.
"Damn…I mean, boy. This is some good stew! Ya did a good job lil Asskicker!"
Nodding vigorously, the four year old agreed, even as she continued to chew her make-believe stew, a blissful expression on her face.
His back to the rest of the room, Daryl sensed rather than saw movement behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Carl and Beth approaching, colorfully wrapped packages in their hands. With a start, he realized they were for him. Him? He had presents too? Unaccountably touched that he would be remembered in that way, he reached out to take the gifts they were now extending towards him, nodding his thanks. Glancing over their shoulders he saw the others coming towards him, also holding objects obviously meant for him.
Surveying the bounty before him, some still held in his friends' hands, he felt a lump in his throat as he realized these were the first Christmas presents he'd ever received. Finally finding his voice, he asked in a trembling voice, "these are for me?"
"Of course, silly. Did you think Santa would forget you?" Carol smiled as she handed her gift to him, adding to the growing pile in his arms.
Daryl had the fleeting thought that Santa had always forgotten him before, but pushed it away, determined to enjoy this moment for what it was—his first real Christmas. Even Judith became caught up in the moment, finishing her 'meal' to watch the events unfolding before her with rapt attention. She oohed and aahhed along with everyone else as he opened the new hunting knife Carol gave him, sharing a smile with her at their shared idea regarding gifts for each other.
"Great minds think alike," she said with a smile, nodding towards the knife in his hand.
By the time he'd finished opening them all, Daryl was completely overwhelmed with the thoughtfulness of his friends. Hand-knit, fingerless gloves from Beth—gloves he could wear while hunting but which would still keep his hands warm. A matching, handmade scarf from Maggie. Handmade bolts from Carl. New boots from Glenn. A stack of books and magazines from Hershel, who seemed to know about his secret penchant for reading—mysteries and assorted hunting journals, obviously gleaned from runs and some even from the prison library. And from Rick, a leather jacket to keep him warm and various supplies to be used for the upkeep and maintenance of his—Merle's—motorcycle. Touched by the thoughtfulness of his friend's gift—of all of them—he looked up at them all and muttered a quiet "thank you" in his typically soft voice. The others knew, though, what their gifts meant to him. It was quite evident in the smile lighting up his face.
Still mesmerized by the pile of presents on the table in front of him, Daryl didn't even notice that Judith had risen from her chair and scampered across the room. He was so intent on studying the evidence of his friends' generosity that he didn't feel the tug on his sleeve at first. It wasn't until the second yank accompanied by a small voice that he looked down. Judith. And she was holding something out to him. A poorly wrapped package—obviously she'd done it herself—covered with bright paper decorated with smiling Santa Clauses. Reaching out slowly, he took it in his hands. He didn't know why but his heart was hammering in his chest. His breath quickened at the thought of this little girl who meant so much to him taking the time to think of him. Gazing down at the package with a smile, he looked up to meet her eyes. She had a huge smile on her face, one of excitement and extreme happiness.
"Open it Daryl. Open it. It's from me. I made it just for you!"
Looking back down at the gift in his hands, he tried to decide where to start. Carefully picking at a loose piece of paper he pulled, watching as it came apart to reveal what lay buried beneath—a framed picture. It was obviously drawn by Judith itself and was brightly colored. It showed her holding hands with a man who was holding what looked like a crossbow. At least that's what he thought it was. And he realized with a start that the man was him. She'd drawn the two of them standing in a field of flowers. He was holding something in his free hand and he pointed to it and looked at her inquiringly.
Nodding, she responded, "Those are the squirrels we caught."
Surveying the rest of the picture he took in the brightly shining sun, the many flowers surrounding the two figures. The trees in the background and the green grass beneath their feet. While it was obvious that a four-year-old had created this, it looked like a masterpiece to Daryl, one that could rival anything hanging in a museum, if those even still existed nowadays. Looking more closely, he realized that she had even decorated the frame with swirls of color to cover the austere blackness of the casing surrounding the picture.
Smiling broadly, Daryl looked up to meet shining blue eyes, their owner bouncing up and down in excitement and anticipation.
"Do you like it, Daryl? Huh? Do you like it? I made it myself?"
Shaking his head, Daryl blinked rapidly to forestall the tears he felt so close to the surface.
"I love it. I ain't never seen anything quite so beautiful in my life."
The little smile that grew ever wider was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen and the hunter responded in kind.
"Really? You really like it? I worked extra hard on it. Just for you, because you're my special friend."
Feeling warmth spread throughout his body, he inhaled deeply to maintain his composure. Looking her square in the eyes, Daryl replied in a solemn tone.
"Yes, I really, really like it. I love it. And I'm going to find a very special place to hang it so I can look at it every day. And," reaching out to grasp the little hand, he continued, "you're my special friend too."
Seeing the little girl's entire face light up in happiness was, in Daryl's mind, the best present he'd ever received. And then he remembered that they weren't through. There was one more present he had to give.
"Hey, uh, Asskicker. Can you help me with somethin'?"
At her enthusiastic nod, he rose from his chair and held out his hand, moving with her towards the cells, aware but not caring that the others—curious—were following at a discreet distance.
"Where are we going, Daryl?" the inquisitive four-year-old wanted to know.
Looking down at the bright little face, he answered her in a solemn tone.
"Well, I heard that Santa mighta left one of his presents in your room and I want to go see for myself."
That was all that was needed. The small hand was suddenly pulling at his, the little legs doing double-time to reach her cell—room—as quickly as possible. Once there they stopped. Her brow furrowed in confusion, Judith looked up at him.
"Daryl," she began in a hushed voice. "What's this? This wasn't here before."
As she spoke she pointed to the pink and purple velvet curtains covering the doorway of her room.
"I don't know. Why don't we see what's inside."
Distentangling his hand from hers, Daryl stepped back, allowing the little girl to reach out and part the curtains. Her sharp intake of breath—along with those of several other observers—was enough to tell him she liked what she saw. Trying to suppress his smile, he gave her a soft push, encouraging her to enter the room. Looking up at him, Judith shook her head in amazement.
"Daryl, look. What is it? It's so pretty."
Moving forward she approached the new bed, complete with its Beauty and the Beast comforter and pillow. The bed, itself, was white with a pink canopy draped above and falling down the sides. Beside the bed, nestled against the wall, was a miniature white vanity table and cushioned stool, its cushion matching the canopy. Lying atop the vanity table was an assortment of what Daryl called 'girly-girl' products—a hairbrush and comb and mirror.
The hunter and the others watched with glee as the little girl took in her new room. They smiled as she smiled at the brightly colored posters on the walls. At the little white bookshelf with stacks of children's books on its shelves. At the tiny little rocking chair holding a smiling Winnie the Pooh. And at the Princess Belle nightgown laid out on the bed, just waiting for her. It was any little girl's dream room.
Clapping her hands and jumping up and down, she couldn't contain her excitement.
"Oh look. Look what Santa left for me! It's so beautiful. I can't wait to go to bed!"
At this everyone chuckled, knowing that this would be the one day the little girl would most likely take a nap with no complaints.
Stepping back to allow Judith room to explore and marvel some more, Daryl bumped into Rick, who was standing behind him. Turning around he took in the knowing looks and smiles of his companions. Blushing furiously, he ducked his head and moved to stand against the railing opposite the cell and beyond the others. He needed a moment. But even as he took a deep breath and studied the floor between his feet he felt the presence of someone moving to stand next to him.
Looking up he saw Rick, his best friend. The other man had an unusual expression on his face—one Daryl couldn't quite decipher.
"Daryl," Rick began, stopping for a moment to take a deep breath. "How on earth did you do all this? Without anyone knowing? Why would you do all this?"
Shrugging, the hunter looked his friend in the eyes.
"How do ya know it was me? Maybe there really is a Santa Claus out there."
Shaking his head in amusement, and knowing he'd not get the answer he was after, Rick just reached out and squeezed his friend's shoulder.
"Well, Santa Claus or not, thank-you, Daryl for whatever part you played in this. You have no idea how much it means to me. But how did you know?"
At his friend's look of confusion, Rick continued.
"How did you know what a little girl would like? You've created a room any little girl would kill for. Well," trailing off, Rick regrouped, "not literally 'kill for' but you know what I mean."
Shrugging and shaking his head in denial, Daryl tried not to smile even as he remembered those television commercials he used to watch before Christmas. The commercials that showed the toys and gifts any child would be thrilled to receive and their joy and excitement upon receiving them on Christmas morning. Daryl had always wanted to be a part of that. Now, in his own small way, he was.
Seeing the knowing look on Rick's face, Daryl knew he was busted, but he wasn't going to own up to it. After all, wasn't that part of the magic of Christmas? To leave them guessing? But Rick wasn't finished.
Catching and holding his friend's gaze, the sheriff's deputy squeezed the hunter's shoulder in affection yet again. Shaking his head, he almost looked as if he was going to cry.
"Daryl. I know you're not going to admit what you did because…well, because you're you. You don't do things for credit. You do them to be kind, to help others. So all I'm going to say is thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving my children a Christmas to remember. Thank you, Daryl, for loving my children."
At that, the hunter felt the tears which had been threatening actually force their way to the surface and he turned away, blinking furiously and rubbing a hand across his eyes. Feeling Rick's unwavering presence behind him he tried valiantly to regain control, clearing his throat and inhaling deeply. Turning back around to face his friend once again, he gave him a small smile accompanied by his habitual shrug. The smile on his face gave him away, though.
Much later, after a day filled with celebration and festivities, the adults found themselves sitting around a flickering fire outside. Carl and Judith were sound asleep in their beds, Judith having gone to bed an hour earlier than usual due to her anticipation of sleeping in her new bed. And now it was just the grownups. Bundled up against the chilly gusts of wind, they reveled in the day they'd just had and the serene quiet outside. Even the fences were nearly empty of walkers. It was a beautiful evening and yes, it had been the perfect Christmas.
Watching the flames dancing quietly in the wind, and pulling his scarf tighter about his neck, Daryl looked around at the others sitting around the fire. Surrounded by this rag-tag group of people he'd come to consider family, the hunter felt great contentment. And for perhaps the first time in his life he was truly happy. He'd experienced his first Christmas and discovered it wasn't a waste of time. He had a family. And he had a special friend. Thinking about the picture he'd hung next to his mat on the floor he smiled to himself. He considered himself to be the luckiest of men.
Glancing to his right he saw Rick's knowing smile bestowed upon him. Nudging the sheriff's deputy with his shoulder he smiled back. As he nudged his friend once again, Daryl heard the quiet strains of the guitar as Beth began to play. Looking over at her, he listened as she began to sing.
I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents by the tree
Christmas Eve will find you
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have some snow and mistletoe
And presents by the tree
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
Looking around the fire at his friends, he saw the firelight dancing off their faces, each of them seemingly lost in memories of Christmases past as the song reminded them of what once was. Having no such memories of his own, the hunter rationalized that they were home and maybe this Christmas was different from what the others had experienced, but it had still been a wonderful day full of celebration and laughter. So they didn't need to dream it; it had been real. And they were home. They'd created a home right here at the prison. Looking down at the dirt between his feet, he smiled at the thought of his home, the first true home he'd ever had if he was being honest with himself.
So lost was he in his thoughts that Daryl didn't realize at first the song was over. It wasn't until he noticed the silence that he looked up and around. From the others' expressions he could tell that they were coming to the same realization. They missed what they'd had before but were grateful for what they were creating now.
Strumming her new guitar softly, Beth began to play once again, filling the silence with beautiful song.
Silent night, holy night!
All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace
Silent night, holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight.
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia,
Christ the Savior is born!
Christ the Savior is born
Silent night, holy night!
Son of God love's pure light.
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth
Gradually, other voices joined in with Beth's until the quiet of the prison yard rang with the sweet strains of the timeless carol.
As Daryl listened, he had quick glimpses in his mind's eye of a long-ago moment in his life. One where he was very young and his mother sang this very same song to him and Merle. It was a rare moment of happiness in his childhood and it caused him to smile now as he remembered the scene.
This, he thought, was a fitting end to his first Christmas. Sharing this moment on this special night with his family. Maybe they couldn't change the new world in which they were living, but if they could grasp moments of happiness like this, then what was wrong with that? That was living. Making the best of their circumstances and they were certainly doing that. Smiling at the thought of the happy and excited children tucked into their beds, one surrounded by his stack of new comic books and the other wearing her princess nightgown and sleeping in her princess bed, clutching Winnie the Pooh to her chest, Daryl knew that this had been a very Merry Christmas indeed.
