Carol falls asleep in Daryl's arms and awakes when the sunlight streams in through the small classroom windows. She slept heavy and late into the morning, and she feels disoriented as she sits up and looks around the trailer only to find no sign of Daryl. His belt, boots, knives, jacket, and handgun are gone, though his crossbow still leans against the teacher's desk.
Stretching, she rises, and soon enough she finds a note on the teacher's desk – "Went to see the mechanic. Bring you b-fast." It's followed by a scrawled signature in which only the D, the Y, and the L are legible.
Carol dresses and tries not to be bothered by the fact that her husband has snuck off to see the gorgeous mechanic early in the morning. She's straightening the trailer when the door opens and Daryl walks in with a basket containing two cornmeal muffins, an apple, a bit of cheese, and two thermoses of what she hopes is coffee, but she'll take tea. He beats his boots against the open door frame to shake off a layer of snow before setting the basket on the desk.
"Have fun talking bikes?" she asks.
"Mhmhm. 'N I traded some ammo for some parts."
"You were there awfully early."
"Dawn starts work early. Likes to be done by noon to spend time with 'er kid."
"She has a child?"
"Little girl. Five. Cute as a button. Bet Hershey's gonna marry her one day."
Carol chuckles and then glances at the snow now littering the inside of the trailer. It rarely snows more than a light dusting in December, but there are chunks of it melting on the industrial carpet now. She goes to look out the window and gasps. "How deep is it?"
"Foot maybe. We ain't goin' back today. Or tomorrow neither, likely. Wait 'til it warms 'n melts some."
"Good thing I have Aaron to rely on to run things."
They eat the breakfast he brought and Daryl talks excitedly about the bike Dawn is working on and what features he's going to use on the next bike he builds.
Carol, feeling a little jealous, despite her best efforts not to, says, "Ezekiel was really outstanding in that play, wasn't he?" Daryl's excitement dies and his face falls, and she scolds herself for her pettiness. Hastily, she changes the subject: "I bet the kids will want to go sledding today."
They do, on a steep but short hill behind the school, using old fashioned-wooden sleds with metal rails. R.C. and Hershey race each other stomach down, and Judith asks for running pushes from Daryl, who complies. Once he even goes down the hill on the sled with her between his legs, his weight sending the sled flying all the way into the forest. The forest is fenced off an acre into the woods, so there's no fear of walkers, but they do come back a little scratched up.
Seeing how fast they went, R.C. asks Ezekiel to ride with him, and they do, though Ezekiel steers to the right before plunging into the brush and slides to a gradual stop at the bottom of the hill. They tumble off the sled and make snowballs, one of which R.C. pelts at his big sister, who growls at him and begins to make one of her own. Hershey joins R.C.'s team, while Ezekiel sees fit to pummel Daryl, who responds in greater force with a larger snowball hastily manufactured.
Carol and Michonne sit bundled up at a picnic bench at the top of the hill, watching the scene. "That seems a little more violent than playful," Michonne observes. "Daryl isn't still jealous of Ezekiel, is he?"
"Maybe a little," Carol replies. "How's that going?"
Michonne grins. "I feel like a teenage girl half the time. And then the other half the time I want to shake him silly. We've been fighting like cats and dogs over the defenses. He thinks we should draw in our territory so it's easier to defend. I think we should expand it so we have more of a buffer."
"And what are you going to do?"
"We're gong to expand it, of course."
"Of course," Carol says with a chuckle.
"Ezekiel and I still haven't…you know. It's difficult with the kids being in my apartment. I'd have to sneak off. And I couldn't stay the night. I need to find sleep overs for them both."
"I'd volunteer to let you send them back with us, but then it might snow again and you wouldn't see them for weeks."
"Yeah, and I want Christmas and New Year's with them. I'll find someone in the Kingdom to take them off my hands for a night."
Daryl, his short, graying brown hair coated in snow and the white flakes clinging to his jacket, plods his way up the hill now as Ezekiel tugs up R.C.'s sled. Coming to a stop near the picnic table, he shakes like a dog, scattering flakes on Carol. She jerks back, and he laughs, but he's not laughing by the time she's made her first snowball. He runs backwards and tries to dodge it when she pelts it at him, but she's too fast for him, and it splatters on his shoulder. Soon he's chasing her across the top of the hill with his own snowball, and then down it, until both go tumbling and land in a tangled mass of limbs at the bottom of the hill, where he kisses her and says, "Merry Christmas."
[*]
It's two more nights before the roads are navigable on motorcycle, but they're still back at the Hilltop two days before Christmas Eve. They find John still in the cabin, and Daisy before the fireplace, with six tiny puppies jostling for her tit. Merle has been confined to Hershey's room so as not to bother the brood.
Hershey squeals with excitement and goes to pet the puppies, while John cries, "Gentle, gentle. Pick one for Christmas. I'll give him to you when he's weaned."
Hershey settles on the runt of the litter, a little brown one with a white splotch over his left eye, and names him Huck.
John's things are packed and he's ready to move into the trailer. "Just waitin' for y'all to get back." He intends to house Daisy and her litter in one of the warmer barns, but Carol suggests he leave the dog with them until the puppies are weaned. "We've got more room here for her." Besides, they're adorable.
John thanks them for their hospitality, takes his things, and leaves his dogs for now.
[*]
That night, the hand-knit stockings hang by the chimney with care, each with a name embroidered at the top. Henry's is there, even though he doesn't live in their cabin anymore. He's promised to spend Christmas with them, which unlike Thanksgiving is not a communal dinner affair. "He just wants my cooking," Carol grumbles, and Daryl says, "Probably wants the company, too."
Even Merle has his own stocking, though Daisy and the puppies, being temporary interlopers, are not so fortunate. Huck will no doubt have one by next year, assuming they make it to next year without war. So far, from what the scouts have reported, the prospects are good – no major threats have been spied in their newly-made island, but they are far from scouting the entire thing, and forays will stop for the winter.
The plastic Christmas tree stands in the corner opposite Carol's desk, over-filled with years of handmade ornaments from Henry and Hershey and even one Daryl made out of brass shell casings.
Carol settles happily against Daryl's side on the couch as the puppies sleep curled by their mother before the fireplace, and Merle keeps Hershey company in his bed. Daryl drapes an arm around her. "I wonder what you're going to put in my stocking this year?" she says.
Carol loves stocking stuffers. Ed never put anything in there except one or two new cooking utensils each year – a wooden spoon, a spatula, spaghetti tongs, a serving fork - but Sophia always filled it with little hand made goodies that made her feel loved.
"Dunno," he says. "Guess y'll have to wait to see what Santa brings ya. Less ya been naughty." He smirks and nuzzles her neck.
"And here I thought it was to my advantage to be naughty."
His eyes twinkle. "Ya wanna be?"
She smiles, stands, and holds a hand out to him, but when they're in the bedroom and he's closing the door behind them, she says, "I don't really want to be naughty tonight." She almost laughs when she sees his crestfallen face. "I don't mean I don't want sex. I just want…Christmas sex."
Daryl smiles. They've been together long enough that he knows what she means. She wants it tender. So he undresses her slowly and takes her gently on deerskin rug in front of the fireplace. The fire dance along with their graceful movements, filling the short silences between their gentle sighs and needy moans with crackling. He carries her to the bed afterward, beneath the heavy quilt, and Carol spoons naked against her husband as she drifts into sleep.