It's just temporary, Carol and her girl staying here.


Merry and Bright


...

He's nervous, jittery in a way he hasn't been since he quit smoking all those months ago, and it's stupid, really. He's stupid. Playing Santa for a kid that ain't even his. Wearing a groove in the floor with his pacing and shit and for what?

.

It's just temporary, Carol and her girl staying here.

.

Just until the dust settles with her divorce and Andrea finds a way to keep that abusive prick away from the two of them for good, and if she don't? Well, if she don't, Daryl might have something to say about that and he knows Merle wouldn't object to being included. Knows his brother probably already has something up his sleeve anyway because Ed Peletier is the absolute scum of the earth, a real boil upon all humankind, but that's all besides the point because he can hear them, moving about in the other room. He can barely make out the soft murmur of their voices as they start their day, and it's all he can do to quell the flutter of honest-to-goodness panic deep in the pit of his belly when he hears the creak of the bedroom door and the quiet whisper of little socked feet as they approach. He don't quite manage and, at the last possible second, he whirls around. Studies the popcorn string hugging the skinny arms of the sad little Christmas tree. The handmade paper ornaments and the blinking rainbow lights, and if his heart wasn't pounding so loud between his ears, maybe he might have heard it. That gasp of surprise. That gasp of utter wonder. But he doesn't. He doesn't. So when his curiosity gets the best of him and he turns around to find Carol standing there with tears streaming down her pretty face? He almost loses what's left of his shit, arms flailing around and eyes looking anywhere but at her and that little girl. "I didn't…I don't…I…it's Christmas. And I thought the kid…"

.

"Daryl?"

.

His eyes snap to her face and she's still crying, her cheeks all pink and flushed and her blue eyes bright as twinkling stars, but if he squints, there's something close to a smile twitching over that sweet mouth that's haunted his dreams since they were nothing but kids finding their way, kids drawn together even when the whole wide world was throwing obstacles in their way. Maybe he hasn't completely fucked things up. Maybe, just maybe... "Yeah?"

.

"Shut up."

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Her girl's mouth falls open just as wide as his and she tucks her face away in the billows of the worn, oversized flannel button-down all but swallowing up her mama's slight frame.

.

"Might be I…" He frowns and tries to defend himself, sputters out pieces of an apology because she's shaking her head, red curls tumbling all over the place and smile fond, if not a touch exasperated.

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"Santa."

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"I…what?" His brain finally catches up with his mouth and he searches her eyes, even as the faint seeds of understanding start to bloom. "Santa?"

.

She nods and squeezes her little girl's skinny shoulder. "Looks like he's been busy."

.

He glances to his feet, all the gifts in their colorful paper. All shapes and sizes and all for a kid he wishes… "Yeah. Yeah," he quirks a smile at them both, kneels to pick up one of the smaller packages and hold it in his hands. "He's been busy all right. Had some help from some real nice elves, though. Heard 'Phia was visiting, and…well. He heard she was visiting. Heard she'd been a real good girl and left these here for her."

.

The kid's eyes widen with disbelief. "For me?"

.

"Might be one or two for your mama in there, but yeah."

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"Mama. Santa found me."

.

"I told you he would."

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Happy tears damn near make her blue eyes glow and Daryl feels his heart do a somersault within his chest as she mouths her thanks to him over Sophia's sleep-tousled head. His voice comes out gruff when he finally finds it again. Stands up. "Well. What are you waiting for, Kid?" That's all the encouragement the little girl needs and it don't take long for the cabin floor to be covered in a sea of wrapping paper and toys. A curious sort of pride fills him watching her. A warm contentment he's never known.

.

Carol's fingertips kiss his own and she rests her cheek briefly against his arm before raising on tiptoe and pressing a kiss against his unshaven cheek. Smiles at him soft and gentle before curling her hands around his arm and dropping her chin upon his broad shoulder.

.

"What was that for?" he rumbles. "Ain't no mistletoe." He feels her hum ripple through him, set his nerves to singing again and his palms to sweating when he feels those blue eyes watching.

.

"You saying I need it?"

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She's kissing the corner of his mouth before he has a chance to answer her, cupping his cheek in her hand and damn. Dreams could never live up to this. When she finally pulls away, it's all he can do not to whimper. If you ask him, it's some kind of Christmas miracle that he manages to even breathe, much less form words. "Don't."

.

"Good." She smiles and kisses him again.

.

If he's stupid. Well, he's the best kind of stupid.

...


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