The Longest Night
Written For: mizjoely
Title: The Longest Night Author: @peletiersdixon Rating: G Summary: It’s their first winter on the road, and Daryl brings Carol a token to boost her spirits A/N: Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy!!
It was obviously the beginning of winter—the shortest days of the year, nights getting longer and longer, with little sun left to guide them on their runs between makeshift shelters. Winters were milder down south, but the nights still dipped into freezing temperature, and it was a struggle for their ragged little group to find places to try to scrabble together some rest, if not actual sleep.
Carol looked around the rundown convenience store, and pulled the thin blanket she had closer around her shoulders. They were huddled together for warmth, but still clung to their little groups: Rick, Lori, and Carl; Hershel, Beth, Maggie, and Glenn; T-Dog, Daryl, and herself. The three of them were the outsiders, and she did her best to see that Daryl and T didn’t become too ostracized from the rest of them. Daryl was out hunting right now, hoping to find some small animal to supplement their meager stores. T was on watch, so she was left to her own devices and sleep was hard to come by with the cold permeating her bones.
It was close to Christmas, not that anyone was thinking of celebrating holidays anymore. But the time of year, the smell in the air, the cold weather brought all the memories to the forefront. Last year, she and Sophia had sat up on Christmas Eve while Ed had been working the night shift and drank hot chocolate while watching The Muppet’s Christmas Carol. It was the only bit of celebrating they enjoyed. The peace they relished when it was just the two of them.
Her eyes burned from holding back the unshed tears as she sat with the memory. Remembering running her fingers through the soft shiny hair of her little girl and the scent of her green apple shampoo wafting past her nostrils. The feel of her tiny body cuddled up against the side of her mother, burrowing into her warmth. Carol blinked back the stinging sensation and quietly sniffled into the blanket. The ever present ache of Sophia’s absence felt like a hole in Carol’s chest, one she had to sit with and could never ever fill.
She slid down onto the cold floor, head propped on a knapsack, and curled into a tight ball to try to conserve her meager warmth, pulling the blanket tighter around her thin frame. As the night wore on, she drifted off, awakening in fits and starts as cold shivers wracked her body until a warmth drifted over her back. She had the vaguest awareness of two presences surrounding her and felt a wash of safety and security filter through her as she sensed T-Dog switch out with Rick on watch. Through the mingling smells of body odor and sweat, and unwashed clothes mixed with gore and walker guts, she scented the fresh outdoors: clean air and pine trees, and she knew Daryl was back, and had thrown his blanket over her back. Falling back to sleep was much easier after that.
Once morning arrived, she awoke feeling slightly more rested, and sat up, running her hands over her face. Muted light filtered in through the windows spilling over the tiled floors, and illuminating a brown beer bottle sitting next to her on the floor. Her breath caught as she realized what was in the bottle. A Cherokee rose, browning on the edge of the petals and looking so much the worse for wear (probably the last of the season,) sat limply in the bottle.
It wasn’t the flower itself that caused her chest to quake. It was the knowledge that she wasn’t alone in her memories of Sophia. That Carol was seen, and known. That Daryl hadn’t forgotten, wouldn’t forget. She wasn’t sitting solitary in her pain. It was a flower that bloomed for a mother’s tears. And this year, this Christmas, Daryl had sensed she was hurting, and he had taken action, as he was prone to do. Words weren’t his style. But when she looked at that tiny offering, she didn’t need words. She had all she needed.
