In the original iteration of this story, this chapter came in at a whopping, 452 words. LOL. And now, upon re-writing, it has taken on a life of its own to the point that I had to turn this part of the story into two chapters. We're definitely in slow-burn territory with these two and as I discover new elements of the story. Hope you enjoy :)

I don't own these characters or TWD.

Vibes for this Chapter inspired by "Hallelujah"- by HAIM

Hallelujah

"Mama, do you think Daryl will like his scarf?" Carol turned toward Sophia's soft voice and smiled lovingly at the girl crocheting a deep red and royal blue scarf for him from the wingback chair in the living room.

"He loves everything you make him." Carol insisted as she leaned over the counter, gently kneading a sourdough loaf.

"Yeah, but I don't want him to feel like he has to like it." The girl worried her lip and scrunched her brow in concentration while slowly stitching across her next row with the yarn.

Carol gently lifted the dough into a loaf pan, covering it to let it rise on the counter. She wiped off her hands on the towel hanging from her apron, leaned against the door frame, and looked at her with concern, "Tell me, what's got you so worried?"

Sophia looked up at her, "It's just- Daddy never liked anything I made him. And I really, really like Daryl. I want this first Christmas with him to be special."

"Oh, sweetie," she chuckled and walked over to sit on the arm of the chair. She picked up the edge of the scarf in her hands and stared at all the lumps and bumps the young girl had lovingly stitched into the garment. "These colors? I know for a fact they're his favorite. Maroon: his favorite color in every sunset we've watched together. And this blue? For the color of your eyes."

"Yours too," Sophia smirked.

Carol leaned over, brushed the hair from the young girl's eyes, and placed a gentle kiss atop her head. "Yes, mine too." She laughed,

"I know for a fact it'll be his favorite gift." She stood, and the girl went back to weaving the yarn in and out of each stitch, slowly building another row on the scarf.

"Do you think he'll take me out later to check the snares?" the girl asked, looking up and out the window at the snow slowly falling.

A timer started to go off, and Carol returned to the kitchen to check on another loaf finishing in the oven. "I'm sure he'll take you wherever you want once he's back-

Carol felt a choking breath claw its way up her throat as her eyes opened widely in despair. She sat up, gasping and turning her head, looking frantically for the girl in the chair who was crocheting the scarf. A glimmer. Her eyes began to fill with tears. She squeezed them shut tightly and willed her body to calm as she held her head in her hands.

She flopped backward onto the couch and did her best to breathe to ward off the tears threatening to fall. She needed to be stronger, get a grip, wipe the tears away, and get up. She sat back up and threw the blankets off her legs, noticing one extra that Daryl must've covered her with during the night.

"Daryl?" she called out.

No reply. Carol looked at the floor and noticed his blankets folded neatly and shoved to the left side of the couch. A deep frown settled over her face. She'd thought they'd settled their grievances with one another before falling asleep, but sometimes, he was so hard for her to read.

She grabbed her layers and quickly dressed, starting with her thick socks, working her way upward, adding a long-sleeved shirt and a flannel before topping the look off with her coat and scarf. She laced up her boots and walked to the window, lifting the edge of the blanket to see if he wandered outside for a smoke. His face fell when she noticed his truck was gone.

She reached her pack and checked her provisions. She had a bottle of water and a can of sardines next to a sleeve of old crackers. She pulled up the hood on her jacket and tightened the scarf around her face, then she strapped her knife just on the waistband near the pocket and stepped out into the bristling cold. The wind, while it had given her a reprieve for the last two days, had whipped back up to a fury. The sheer force of it caught her off guard, pelting her with loose snow from the trees or whipping it up from the ground as she walked the property, searching for any sign of him.

All of the doubts she'd had before he'd arrived started swimming through her head again at a maddening pace. The full panic of losing him rose in her chest. Maybe he hadn't really forgiven her. Maybe, he realized, she was too broken for him to chain himself to her. He couldn't possibly want to stay with someone who found themselves crying all the time. Especially an old woman who'd long since passed her prime. Maybe everything last night was just another of her glimmers, a false hope she'd imagined as she'd drifted off. She'd been so distracted by those complicated and racing thoughts she didn't notice a lone walker stumbling across the snow in her direction until she turned back to look at the cottage.

She fumbled forward in its grasp, trying to remove a glove quickly with her teeth and grasp her knife. When she felt near her pocket, it seemed to have disappeared. She looked down as the walker's bony hand ripped the bottom edge of her coat. She pushed back against hard, but with its grip still tightly on her outer layer, she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled backward, taking the walker with her. She roared as she used her whole body's strength to push away the undead, her forearm taking the full brunt of the force. She turned her head to the right as she held it in place, its jaws gaping, longing to bite into flesh into her flesh. There, three feet away on the icy ground, lay her knife. She closed her eyes and prayed to the God she no longer believed in while feeling the teeth of the creature catch on the fabric over her arm. 'I guess this is it; I guess this is what you deserve; you were a terrible mother and friend, selfish for running away; he deserves better, and now he'll get it without you getting in the way.'

And just like that, the thing stilled above her and collapsed. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief at the sight of an arrow pierced straight through its skull. She rolled to her left, pushing the dead weight from her body, and lay there in the cold snow for a moment. Daryl hadn't left. The screaming thoughts stopped.

"CAROL!" she heard him bark out her name, his voice laced with panic. She reassured herself that he was still here and that he was real. She didn't move. "Carol!" he shouted again, still a distance away. She listened to his fast-approaching footsteps crunching across the layers of ice and snow. By the time he reached her, she stood up and brushed the cold snow from her body.

"I'm fine," she assured him.

He lowered his weapon and reached a gloved hand out to touch her, frantic and concerned as he took stock of her condition. He used one hand to skim down both arms, checking for bites. She looked down with him and pulled her left arm up to inspect the fabric of her coat, torn from the teeth that had threatened to bite straight through. She looked up at his pale face, filled with panic and despair.

"Fuck," he exhaled, tears began to fill his eyes, and he turned away from her.

'Daryl,' panic filled her eyes, and she stuck a finger through the hole. She closed her eyes and exhaled in complete relief when she felt the plaid underneath wholly intact.

"I shouldn't have-" he turned back with a grief-stricken expression.

"Stop! It's okay!" She stepped forward, "Look!" she proclaimed and showed him her sleeve. She held her right hand out to him, "Give me your hand." He took it with some hesitation. She guided his hand deftly, swiping it over the torn fabric and forcing his fingers to touch the fabric showing through the hole. She smiled at his worried face, "It didn't go through."

He stumbled back a little in disbelief. He stepped forward hastily and dropped his bow to the side. Both of them ignored how it slid haphazardly across a patch of ice. He put all of his weight into gathering Carol in a crushing hug. "Fuckin' thought-."

"I know, me too." She returned the hug just as fiercely.

He pulled back from her, "Don't do that to me." Anger flashed across his face, "Shoulda stayed inside where I left ya!"

"I woke up and-" She shook her head and stepped away, remembering all the awful thoughts she'd battled up until this moment. "You just left."

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, and she could see a slight tremor in his hands. One long drag seemed to put him at ease. "Woke early, felt restless, you looked like you really needed the rest so- got up- got started on some chores."

She looked out at the land around them, read the shadows of the trees, and looked up at the position of the sun. "I slept all day?" she was alarmed.

He shrugged, cigarette hanging from his lips. He lumbered over to his forgotten bow and retrieved it from the ground, brushing off the ice and snow before flinging it back over his shoulder. "S'okay. Got a lot done. First, wanna check you over inside," he nodded toward the cottage.

"Really, it's fine, it can wait."

He bent over and grabbed her knife. "Ya missing this?" he held it out to her.

"Thank you." she grasped it in her hand and put it back in her pocket.

"Need to find you a belt or somethin'," he grumbled. "C'mon, let's go make sure-"

"Why did you go off like that this morning? You didn't even leave a note." she cut him off.

He stopped and turned back to her, "Can show you later. Wanna make sure-"

"Daryl, stop. I'm good. No bites, see? " She held up her sleep for him.

He bit his lip nervously, shook his head yes, and took another puff of smoke. "Fine, I'll check you out later." He growled, turning away from her. She glowered at his back as he started walking toward the barn. "C'mon, you wanna see, don'tcha?" He called back, annoyed once he was assured she was following him.

They entered the barn with little fanfare, "Hid the truck in the barn this mornin'- found a few things up there in the loft," he pointed up. "A little dusty, but it got me thinkin' about somethin'." She watched as his anger and annoyance subsided; he blushed. He reached into the truck's bed and pulled out what looked to be a Christmas tree stand.

She stared in confusion.

"I was gonna do this whole thing where I went and got you a tree, but you got the jump on me 'fore I could surprise you with it. So-"

"I think that's really sweet of you." she complimented him. She put her hand through his arm and pulled him into her side.

He looked down at her, "Thought maybe we didn't have to miss it this year."

She gazed up at him with glistening eyes. "It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Well, I ain't got a tree yet. I guess- If you let me check your arm inside, I might be willin' to take you with me." He quirked an eyebrow at her, "-property to the west you mentioned? Remember it having some shorter growth trees over there when I was scoutin' the area. Maybe drive over today?"

"Drive?" she gave him an incredulous look.

He shrugged, "Ain't anyone around. Should be safe. S'getting darker earlier, and since you slept all day, we're kinda on a short supply of daylight. It'd be faster."

"Fair enough," she nodded. But the sleeping in was your fault." She pointed at him sternly, half-heartedly angry but with a twinkle of affection in her eye.

Thirty minutes later, after he thoroughly checked under her layered sleeves and found no hint of a bruise or outline of teeth along her forearm, they got in the truck and drove to a property three miles west of them. The air had grown more frigid, if possible, so the heat in the truck was much appreciated as they rumbled down the road together.

"When was the last time you celebrated Christmas?" she asked.

He shrugged, "Weren't really ever Merle's thing once it was just me n'him. Gawd, most he ever wanted for Christmas was to get high." He paused in thought and chewed on the edge of this thumbnail.

She hummed and continued to stare out the windshield. "Prolly since I was 10." He spoke sadly, running a hand through his hair before he gripped the steering wheel as they slid on a patch of ice. She braced herself as they evened out. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Don't be. Probably the most normal I've felt in days." Carol reasoned.

With both hands on the wheel again, he effortlessly steered the truck as they turned down what was left of a country road.

She met his gaze momentarily, and a gentle, affectionate smile brightened his eyes. "Last time for me was with Sophia." she recalled and stared back ahead, "She loved making gifts for people." She swallowed her grief at the memory and then continued, "One summer, Ed gave me enough money to enroll her in some craft classes at the local library." She spoke fondly, "She learned how to make a loom using a shoebox and some yarn. Rattiest darn thing, but she kept at her weaving that year. I'd sneak her bits of yarn to add on occasion." A sad smile fell upon her lips. "Next thing I knew, she was gifting me the square she'd been working and reworking for months. She'd said I needed a new pot holder, but the darn thing was barely a scrap- -couldn't wash even a dish." she chortled, "Barely big enough to be a coaster. But she'd made it. Loved it enough to give it to me because she thought the colors matched my eyes." she wiped a renegade tear from her eyes. She noticed Daryl glance over at her again. "Ed never let her have much. Or me, for that matter. But you know all of that." she looked out the windshield across the fields and the waves of snowdrifts for miles. "I guess that's what makes me different, huh? Made it so I could survive all this."

"Naw, that weren't his doin'," he shook his head in disagreement. "S'all you. Think too; there's more than just survivin' now." He grabbed her hand, and they shared a look of total understanding. He cleared his throat, eased off the gas, and tapped the break slowly, "think we're here."

She craned her neck forward as they approached a driveway, more grown over than even the cottage they were staying in. "Huh," she exclaimed as they turned in slowly. The truck slid a little as the tires struggled to grip the snow.

"Shoulda looked for some chains or some shit," he grumbled.

"It was your idea." she teased, crossing her arms over her chest in amusement.

He huffed at her as he hit the gas gently and crept through the remaining drifts up the driveway. He put the gear in park and stepped out of the truck.

"You don't think there's people here, right?"

He hesitated and stared at her in disbelief. "I thought you checked this house already?"

She shook her head no and stared anxiously out the window up at the dark windows of the house.

"Well, damn good I checked it myself eight days ago while I was just aimlessly wandering around looking for you," he teased her.

She gave his shoulder a gentle swat, "Now, who's the smart-ass?"

He chuckled and opened his door. " I thought we could pick up a few other supplies from inside while we're here, too."

"Sounds good." She sat and stared at the two-story farmhouse with yellow shutters. "Are you sure we're good?"

"C'mon, I wanna show you all the good shit they left inside." He nodded toward the house and slammed the truck door closed. She nodded and followed him cautiously.

Once inside, she was shocked to see how well-stocked the house was. "How did any of this not get cleaned out in three years?" she asked, amazed.

He shrugged, busy packing up some cans and dried goods he found in the pantry. "You like cherry pie?" he asked.

"There's no way they have cherry pie filling?" She cackled as she sorted through a collection of dusty vinyl records in the living room.

He leaned out of the pantry with a twinkle in his eye. "Cranberry sauce, too."

Curious, her head tilted, "Here, let me see that." She joined him in the kitchen

"No," he said adamantly, blocking her view of the pantry.

"Seriously?" she crossed her arms, annoyed.

He crossed his arms and gave her a stern look.

She tip-toed over to the tubs on the kitchen table, "Then I'll just look-

He stumbled forward, putting his arms out in front of the tubs to keep her from looking inside.

"What in the hell? It's just food. I've seen it before." she rolled her eyes.

"You just go back to lookin' around, explore a little. Let me finish up here an' then we'll go get the tree together," Daryl swallowed nervously. Carol eyed him suspiciously.

"I can tell you're up to something, " she said. She turned down the hall toward the stairs to the upper level, where Carol assumed she'd find a few more rooms. At the end of the hall, she stopped and stared at a curious sight, twisting the gloves in her hands. The thermostat was lit up. "Huh," she scratched her head. Rather than head to the upper level, she turned back and headed toward the garage off the kitchen.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he called when he saw her sprint through the kitchen and out the door.

Out in the garage, he found her staring in disbelief at a large battery connected to a DC converter. She giggled, "Damn near scared me running through the kitchen. Thought the place had caught fire or somethin'."

"It's solar power!" she laughed, "God, I could kiss the people who built this place."

He stepped down from the garage steps and joined her side. "Be kinda weird if you did since they're probably dead."

She rolled her eyes and pointed next to the battery, "They have a reverse osmosis system set up for their well, too. Maybe they were preppers?" she looked at him in question while twisting the gloves in her hands.

"Your guess is as good as mine." he shrugged. "Panels are probably outside somewhere, right?"

She nodded and turned to him.

"Huh." he scratched his chin in contemplation.

"What are you thinking?" She asked.

"You trust me?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Of course."

He chewed on his lip, "Maybe come back in a few days-check out the whole property? Wanna get the tree and get back before it gets dark."

"But it's a good find, right?" she smirked at him.

He nodded and nudged her with his shoulder, "S'good."

"Better than the cherry pie filling?" she teased, looking up at him with a big smile.

He laughed, "Naw. I still win with that. When's the last time we seen a can of cherry pie fillin'?"

She took the gloves still in her hands and smacked his shoulder softly with a chuckle. "C'mon ya knucklehead. Let's get the tree."

They stood out in the cold together, and Carol shivered, shoving her gloved hands in her pockets. She glanced around the yard and waited for him to situate his two tubs of food in the back of the truck. "There's more trees out here than I thought," she said.

"It's a shelter belt. Keeps the wind from blowin' through so strong." He grabbed a saw from inside the truck's tackle box, and she followed him to the tree line.

"Haven't picked a real tree for Christmas since- well, since before I married Ed." She followed his tracks carefully through a few two-foot or more deep drifts in the yard.

He turned to check on her, "Ya good?"

She nodded and continued to match his tracks in the snow. "Just trying not to fall."

"Here I'll wait for you." He stopped and watched her hop into each of his footprints until she met up with him. He gripped her elbow to steady her and helped her the rest of the way to the tree line.

"This place is nice," she said in surprise. It's spread out but cozy."

"Mhmm. Watch it!" he said, his grip tightening around her arm as they hit an icy patch under the snow. She slid a little, but he managed to hold her upright.

"Got it. Thanks," Carol breathed out. Her face felt warm at his continued touch. 'Pull it together, Carol,' she told herself. This isn't some weird foreplay. He's just making sure you don't crack your head open.' She rolled her eyes at herself, huffing in frustration.

"I do somethin?" he asked as they reached a set of trees.

She felt more heat creep into her cheeks as he released her arm. She shook her head, embarrassed, "No. We're good." She looked to the west and watched as the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon.

"Good." a beat, "So?" he motioned toward the evergreens lining the North side of the homestead.

"Hmmm." She brought her gloved hands up to her lips and blew warm breath on them. Her face and neck were warm, but her hands were freezing.

"Ya cold?" he scoffed.

"what do you think? It's freezing out here." she balked at him.

"Ya got like fifty layers on, not sure how you ain't sweatin' right now."

She put her hands on her hips, "Okay." she rolled her eyes again. There were three trees that she could see that seemed as though they were grown just for this purpose

"C'mon, pick a damn tree."

"I'm going, I'm going!" She walked toward the trees and stood in front of each that seemed to have a pleasing shape. There were no lights or ornaments to hang, but still, she enjoyed imagining what they'd look like aglow and shimmering. She pursed her lips and held a gloved hand to her chin to contemplate.

"Okay, now I'm getting cold. Takin' forever," he teased and pulled his hat further down over his ears.

"Maybe you deserve it. You're trying to rush me when I'm thinking." Carol gave him a wry smile, and he guffawed. She walked around the tree in the middle of the three she'd been eyeing. She looked over its branches, felt its needles, and smiled at how grand it looked. "This one," she smiled brightly.

"Alright, you gotta hold the top while I cut." he trudged forward and leaned down, clearing the underside of snow and reaching into the middle of the tree with the saw. Carol grasped toward the top of the tree and held on tightly as he worked the saw through the bottom trunk.