Walking Dead A Little Something

A Little Something…

_"When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things - not the great occasions - give off the greatest glow of happiness."― Bob Hope_

It was hard to judge the passing of time without clocks and calendars to keep watch over the days and hours. The leaves turned, the days grew shorter, and the air between dusk and dawn became cool and crisp. Thoughts turned to basic necessities like warm clothing, food, and how in the hell they were going to heat the prison once winter had them in its grasp.

Carol helped out when and where she could. She had very few moments to herself, choosing instead to fill them with menial tasks and mind numbing details that made the prison less of a life raft and more a place to call home. She had an old watch that ticked away the minutes from daylight to dark but there was nothing to tell them what month they were in. Best guess estimates were all they had.

Ironweed and goldenrod bloomed and the leaves were painted with the first sunset blush of color that ushered in fall. It faded all too soon like the grass in the field rimed with frost. Taking note of the little tells, Carol spoke quietly to their resident hunter and requested something special for the next day's dinner. He didn't disappoint, showing up a few hours after dawn with a massive turkey slung over his shoulder. She whispered her thanks to go along with an appreciative pat on the back. That evening, they feasted in a way that was seldom seen in this new world. And she was happy, gloriously happy for the first time in a long time. Her family was safe and well and thriving. It was all that she could hope for. It was enough.

Leaves fell, the branches like bony fingers reaching toward a cloud ridden sky. Time passed and he waited. He waited for her to send him off with a wink and a smile to play Santa Claus but surprisingly the summons never came. He grew more impatient the longer it went; the anticipation wildfire in his veins. What was she waiting for? Surely she knew it was coming. He couldn't be the only one thinking about it. He almost asked her just to get it over but instead he bit his tongue, biding his time. He waited and watched and then decided to take matters into his own hands. They were gonna have Christmas if he had anything to say about it and if they didn't like it, that was just too fucking bad.

Daryl tapped Glenn as his helper, mostly banking on him wanting to make their first married winter extra special for Maggie. The wide grin Glenn wore as Daryl outlined his plan told him that he'd guessed right. After that, it all just sort of fell into place. Runs were regular enough to pick up what they needed. While Daryl marked out game trails and took notice of likely sized evergreens, Glenn did what he did best, squirreling away a stash of coveted items destined to find their way into unsuspecting hands.

For Carl, they found a stash of comic books, more than enough to keep him up nights for weeks on end. They found leather-bound Bible with uncut pages and a lettering kit so they could personalize it for Hershel. Beth got a pretty floral appliqued journal with a matching pen. Gifts ranged from practical to whimsical to silly but they fit…boots for Rick, a brightly painted and carved turtle for Michonne, a quiver of crossbow bolts for Daryl, a new hat for Glenn. When all was said and done, only two names were left and those were both the easiest and the most difficult.

"Any idea what to get Carol," Glenn questioned idly one evening as they tucked their recent findings into Tower 3 behind the stored cases of motor oil.

Daryl grunted as he kicked the boxes back into place, eyeing them and making adjustments until he was satisfied. "Don't worry about Carol," he commented after a while, avoiding Glenn's knowing looks as he smoothed his crossbow strap across his chest.

"She never asks for anything," Glenn complained, watching the hunter closely. He bit back a laugh as the man's eyes narrowed and his hands continued to fidget with the bow. "I don't have a clue what to get her."

Daryl chewed on his thumb nail, staring suspiciously at the younger man. "I'll take care of it," he finally spoke up, practically daring Glenn to say anything back. When the man stayed quiet, Daryl nodded once and then ambled toward the cell block at a steady pace, his mind working furiously. The group had become his family, closer to him than blood but this one was different. This was Carol. It had to be right. Glenn, damn him to hell, hit the nail on the head when he said that the woman never asked for anything. She took care of everyone else and didn't give a second thought to herself. It was up to Daryl to get it right. He'd be damned if he accepted anything less.

Xoxoxooxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A week later, Carol woke up to find the prison still and silent in the early morning hour. She knuckled her back and rolled out of bed, making her way down to the makeshift kitchen. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and ran her fingers through her shortened hair to smooth it into some semblance of order. Her feet carried her swiftly down the stairs and through the barred door. Her jaw dropped as her eyes fell on the tree in the corner.

Holly berries made a brilliant splash of color against dark green. Pine cones dotted the branches interspersed with sprigs of bayberry. A strip of red burlap wound around the tree like a garland. Small packages were spread beneath the sheltering branches, wrapped haphazardly in scraps of fabric. She felt hot tears burn her eyes as she took it all in. There was a magnolia leaf wreath hanging on the cell block door topped off with a sprig of mistletoe. She reached out a hesitant hand almost afraid to touch anything for fear that it was all a dream. She had stopped believing in miracles, Christmas or any other kind, after Sophia stepped out of that barn. This though…this beautiful and perfect thing couldn't be called anything else. It filled her up… a fluttering, trembling joy that pushed everything else aside. There couldn't be fear or worry or dread…not when her loved ones had this to wake up to. Carol covered her mouth with a shaking hand to stifle her watery laugh. It was too much.

She hurried through breakfast preparations and, as she'd hoped, the smell of frying meat and baking bread pulled the others in. She watched with barely concealed glee as eyes rounded when they entered and caught sight of the bounty. The children rushed forward, eager eyes searching the names written on the fabric for their names. "Wait," she admonished a few of the younger ones. "Breakfast first and then we'll hand out the presents." They groaned and grumbled but obeyed her, sitting down and tucking into their food. The grownups were almost as bad as the kids, wide smiles and wondering gazes touching on the finery that appeared overnight. Her suspicions were confirmed as Daryl and Glenn wandered in one after the other, eyes blurry and bloodshot as they hid yawns behind lifted hands. She poured two cups of hot coffee and handed them over along with generous servings of food getting a mumbled thank you from both for her trouble.

Buoyed by their excitement, she took it upon herself to hand out the gifts, chuckling softly as the wrappings were swiftly pushed aside. When it was done, she stood back and watched, a small smile tugging up the edges of her mouth. This was what she wanted, all she wanted. She couldn't ask for anything more.

Maggie noticed her and drifted closer, her sharp-eyed gaze noting Carol's lack of a gift. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Carol," she said lightly. "Did you know about this?"

Carol shook her head, laughing as she watched Judith coo and jabber to the bright yellow duck clutched tightly in her chubby fist. "I didn't have a clue," she confided. "It was a lovely surprise, wasn't it? Our two sleepy heads really outdid themselves."

Maggie's brows lifted in surprise as she turned her attention to the group and took notice of the two men in the corner focused on their coffee cups instead of the chaos around them. "Those two wooden headed…." Her voice trailed off as she caught her husband's eye and sent him a fond smile. "I should have known." She looked back at Carol with a narrowed gaze. "You opened yours early?"

Carol shook her head again. "This is mine," her gesture took in the room. "I don't need anything else, Maggie." The girl sputtered incoherently, waving her hands toward the group. "Really, Maggie, I don't." She wiped her hands on her pants, giving the girl a reassuring smile. "I'm going back up for a minute. Would you make sure the young ones stay away from the tree? I don't know if those berries are kid friendly so better to be safe than sorry." Maggie nodded, allowing Carol to duck out without a fuss. She retraced her steps, her mind still caught up in the smiles and laughter. She entered her cell only to stop and stare in disbelief for the second time that morning.

Two carefully wrapped packages lay in the center of her bunk, the cloth brilliant against the pale gray of the quilt. She knelt and picked up the larger of the two, her fingers moving to unknot the loosely tied cord. A nubby sweater tumbled out, the yarn smooth and silky in her hands. She gasped, holding it up to gauge the fit. It was her favorite shade of ruby read, with wide sleeves and a v neck. She tugged off her cardigan and pulled it on, reveling in the immediate warmth. It fit her perfectly.

Curiosity got the better of her so she hurriedly unraveled the tie and opened her second gift. The knife was sturdy and solid, its hilt seemingly made for her hand. The slotted holes cradled her fingers snugly, allowing her to maneuver the blade as an extension of her hand. She secured the sheaf to her belt and slid the knife into it. She smoothed the sweater over her hips and headed back to the kitchen.

His eyes found her immediately, a blush working its way toward his hairline as he noticed the sweater. That fact took care of any remaining doubts about who played Santa at the prison the night before. Knowing how he'd react if she approached him publicly, she rubbed the sleeve and let a small smile cross her face. He saw it before he took a sudden interest in the last few bites on his plate. But she saw the sideways smirk that came and went before he drained his cup and rose to his feet, saying something about hunting. She didn't miss the wink Glenn gave him which resulted in a shoulder punch. She didn't miss the way he hesitated in the doorway, eyes flicking up and then to her before he made his way outside. Her breath caught eyes on the door long after he disappeared from view. Now it was her cheeks turning pink as the thought crossed her mind that maybe, just maybe her Christmas miracles weren't over yet.

It ends…..

Happy Holidays, Carylers…..  
Thanks to USS Caryl for hosting the holiday challenge. Don't forget to visit them on Tumblr to show them some love, okay.


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