The party hadn't been her idea. But it had been her that mentioned that Judith's first birthday had to have been approaching but Beth had latched onto it, mentioned it to everyone who would stop listen and before Carol knew it, the girl was organising a party.
But Judith's birthday didn't only mark the first year of her life. It meant a whole since Lori had died. Since a lot of their friends had died. A year since they had made the prison their home, a year since they had fought tooth and nail for it. It was the first birthday they had acknowledged since the Walkers had come.
Paper chains were scattered everywhere, someone had found balloons, blown them up and threw them across the floor, making Judith squeal with delight. They didn't need presents or a fancy cake, just something as simple as a handful of pink balloons kept the little girl occupied for hours.
They'd all gathered in the cafeteria, and for once no-one was arguing. For once, Merle wasn't arguing with anyone.
A whole year since he'd come back. Causing as much pain and grief that he could muster up. They were each finding their ways to cope with him, for Daryl's sake. He'd mellowed a little bit, much to her relief.
And it had been Merle who'd gone on the run and rustled up the alcohol. Said something about no party being a good party unless whisky had been involved. So each person held a plastic cup of the amber liquid. Almost everyone. Only Hershel and Judith missed out. Carl pretended to drink it, but Carol smiled when she saw his nose scrunch up with each sip.
"Can't believe she made it a year." Daryl slumped into the seat next to her, breaking her thoughts and making her jump slightly. She still hadn't got used to the way he could move about silently.
"I know." Carol let out a little laugh to herself. "Can't believe any of us did, really."
Daryl fiddled with the bottle in his hand, swirling the liquid around the edges. He'd been drinking it straight, but even though it was half empty, he seemed perfectly lucid. Eyes were normal, words were coming out straight.
She sunk the last of her own cup, set it on the table. A balloon bumbled over in their direction, hit the toes of her shoes and Judith crawled over at lightening speed to retrieve it.
Carol leant over, smoothed a hand over her hair. "Happy Birthday, beautiful." She cooed. Judith shrieked with happiness and Daryl leant over too, pushed the balloon up into the air, inducing more high pitched squealing and Judith crawled away to chase it.
Daryl let out a little laugh, one only she could hear and straightened back up. She liked hearing him laugh. It was happening more and more frequently these days and whenever she heard it, she couldn't help but smile.
After that, they lapsed into silence, just the two of the them sitting shoulder to shoulder on the outskirts of the group, watching the others enjoy themselves. Occasionally Daryl would lean over, top up her cup.
By sundown, the baby grew tired, worn out with all the attention and the excitement and she fell asleep right under a table, surrounded my balloons. So Carol put her cup aside and scooped her up, ready for her own bed herself.
She heard footsteps behind her as she settled the baby into the cot. They had a real one now, set up in their cell, although Rick sometimes took his daughter himself. She didn't mind. When she stood up straight, she turned to look into the doorway, Daryl leant against it, still clutching the bottle of whisky by the neck.
He watched her silently as she went about tidying the tiny space up, not moving until she sat on the edge of the mattress and tugged her boots off.
"You on watch tonight?" She asked, tugging back the blankets.
Daryl took another swig from the bottle, held it aloft and shook his head. "Rick's got it."
Carol understood. Rick had mixed feelings for his daughter's birthday. She understood why he needed to be alone. Especially this first year.
She smiled. "Come on then."
Daryl screwed the cap back onto the bottle, tossed it onto the top bunk and pushed off the door frame, practically throwing himself onto her tiny bed.
It wasn't the first time they'd crammed themselves into a two foot wide cot. Not the first time at all. But it was the first time he'd shown quite as much enthusiasm for it and it made her heart flutter.
His face, rough with stubble, nuzzled into the back of her neck, nosing the hair the curled at the back of her neck aside to find her skin and she sighed sleepily.
As his fingers drummed a rough rhythm on her hip, she wondered if they could celebrate more birthdays more often.