EM: A one-shot full of Holiday goodness for my favorite holiday ever. Told from Carol's perspective mainly. Who else am I gonna do it from? As usual, I'm geared toward Carol/Daryl, but because it's Christmas, everyone is here today. Takes place during the winter of season 2 and 3. Happy Holidays everyone!

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead belongs to Robert Kirkman and AMC. Silent Night is not mine.

Summary: Winter has been kicking their ass so far, but a warm fire, the spirit of family, and the closeness of each other makes it all bearable.

Family

She helped Lori nestle into the blankets at her back. Once she was settled she tucked it up and around her legs and belly, the bulge now more prominent than Carol had ever thought it was going to be.

She hated herself for thinking that way. A baby was a gift, a miracle. Something they should be treasuring. But in this day?

She draped a sweater over Lori's shoulders next. "You warm enough?" She asked.

Lori looked up with an exhausted smile. "I'm fine, Carol. But I won't be unless you get a blanket over yourself as well." She smiled in return, but it didn't last long.

A baby would have a hard life in this day. And she had never thought that Lori's baby would last this long. Or Lori herself for that matter.

She was proud that her friend had proved her wrong.

"Carl, pull up those floor boards over there. We'll use them for firewood." Carol turned to watch Carl, no longer a boy, obey his father's request.

She'd never thought that Rick would get them this far either. She was glad to see that he had proven her wrong as well.

She looked at their little ragtag group, huddled around each other for warmth, the cold biting at their heels. Winter was kickin' their ass, as Daryl had put it just a few days ago.

She looked for the door. Daryl was nowhere in sight, now that she thought of him. Maggie and Glenn came rushing in, bodies pressed close to each other. Hershel was next to Lori, for good reason, and Beth was next to Hershel. There wasn't any room for quarrels or embarrassment. Their bodies were close and if they had a problem with that, well, then they could just freeze outside with the walkers.

And Daryl, of course, didn't bother with keeping warm. He had to be big and tough, and lord have mercy, if he showed even one shiver, he just might die of humiliation.

"Maggie, I don't need it. I'm not cold." And there was another one who thought he was invincible to Mother Nature. She glanced up at the young couple, and smirked at the look on Maggie's face.

Glenn was not going to win that battle. Maggie was determined to have Glenn wear the hat, pink fuzzy balls and all.

"It's cold. Your head's gonna freeze." She placed a hand on her hip and thrust the dirty, fleece cap forward. Glenn's lip curled up and Maggie didn't miss it.

"It's my gift to you, you big-headed jerk!" She tossed it at his feet and stormed out of the living room, and into an adjoining one.

It's a gift for Christmas.

Christmas, Carol thought wistfully. She wished they could have a real Christmas. She didn't even know when Christmas was, or what day they were on. But she wished they could have presents, and a ham, and stockings filled with little goodies, and a good old fashioned, real pine tree.

Not, she chided herself, that Ed ever let me have that stuff to begin with. Sure, she had gotten Sophia something special once. But mostly, she had knitted everything she ever gave to her baby girl. Or she had had to beg Ed for money.

Ed never got them anything. He didn't believe in Christmas.

"Dinner is served." Daryl came in, boots knocking at the doorstep, and hand full of squirrels.

A collective sigh came round. It had been a few days since they'd had that many squirrels.

"Beth," Carol perked up, piling her own blanket over Lori, ignoring her friend's small protests. "Let's see if we can't find anything left round the house." Beth looked to her father. He nodded silently and Beth popped up. Carol couldn't help but notice Carl glancing her way.

"Be careful," Rick called. She nodded to him.

When she passed Daryl, who was making his way to the others, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. His brows knit together, confused, wary.

"At least help the fire get started if you're not gonna wear something warmer. That way I know you'll at least be getting warm standing near it." Daryl's eyes got big, and Carol could see Beth's hand rising to cover her face.

"Dammit, woman, I told you I ain't cold!

Beth snickered.

"Is that why you got all those goosebumps?" She said, reaching out and touching the bare skin peeking out at the wrist of his long-sleeve shirt. He jerked back from Beth's touch. "Damn women, touching and shit." He shouldered passed them. "I ain't cold!"

Carol let a giggle slip past, and she and Beth continued on through the house.

"I told you, it was supposed to be your gift." He couldn't do it anymore. The look on her face was making him squirm. Not that he would ever admit that to her.

"Maggie," he started, and then ran a hand through his hair. He wouldn't admit that his ears were cold either. That hat was hideous. Hideous and pink.

"I don't need the hat. All I need is you." He grasped her elbows gently, leaning in. She sighed and looked him in the eye. They were cold, they were tired and all he wanted was to curl up by the fire with their friends and snuggle with her.

"I love you," she said with a little smile. She reached up on her toes and kissed him. And then he felt that damn hat sliding over his head. He pulled back with a jerk, and scowled.

"Please?" She said with a hopeful smile on her face.

"You lying, cracker ass, redneck!" T-Dog's voice came barreling in through the doorway, along with his heavy footfalls.

Daryl sat in front of the fireplace, poking at the sticks and floorboards, trying to coax the fire up. Nobody saw the smirk that graced his face. Nobody but Carl that is.

"T-Dog!" Lori reprimanded. He didn't seem fazed by her though.

"I thought you were a hunter! I thought you knew what the hell you were doing!" Daryl started chuckling then. He crossed his legs and went back to guttin' and skinnin' his squirrels, tossing the remnants in an old bucket he had found outside.

"I don't know what you're hollerin' about," he remarked nonchalantly.

"You left me out there, in the cold," Rick had come in now, to hear what the noise was all about. "Had me thinkin' I was being stalked by a dog!"

Daryl snickered. A look of profound confusion fell over Rick's face.

"A dog?" T-Dog whirled on him.

"That's right! A mean, old, slobbering, snarling, and foaming at the mouth, beady black eyes, barking dog." He finished with a huff.

Carl started chuckling, but Lori shushed him immediately.

"And was there a dog?" T-Dog turned on Daryl this time, eyes wide with anger. "Weren't no dog!"

"Sure," Daryl responded.

T-Dog threw the metal cup that was in his range at Daryl's head.

He missed.

Daryl pointed at T-Dog, broad smile on his face.

"There's your snarling, foaming dog right there."

Carl burst into a fit of giggles.

Carol and Beth heard the noise from the other room, but decided against it. Carol didn't want to stop looking through all the junk that had been left behind and Beth seemed to be enjoying herself as well.

Other people's things were fascinating. You could make up stories from a broken lamp, the solitary picture frame tilted on its side against the wall and a discarded baseball, left on the floor.

She picked up the baseball, and ran her hands across it, the frayed stitches tickling her. She carried it with her as she approached the closet, sliding open the doors.

A real smile graced her features.

"Beth," she called.

Beth was at her side instantly and then they were both smiling.

"Who leaves it all behind?" Carol shrugged her shoulders.

"It was meant for us to find," she replied, pulling the two pillows down from above. Beth pulled out a red dress, something a flapper would have worn back in the 50s. Carol suspected Beth didn't know anything about that though.

She pulled it up against her body, pinching it at her waist and twirled.

"What do you think?" She asked, her face shining bright, for the first time in a long time.

"It's beautiful." They both turned, finding Carl standing in the bedroom doorway, openly staring at Beth.

Her smile turned bashful.

"Thanks," she muttered softly. And Carol decided to make herself sparse.

"That's enough," Rick enunciated with some force. T-Dog grumbled some more and then dropped to his butt, on Lori's left side, as far from Daryl as he could sit without being too far from the fire.

"Bunch a bull," he muttered.

"Why, coz you was the boob who stood out there and believed it?" Daryl's smirk did nothing to help the situation, and T-Dog started to rise to his feet.

"You left me with a walker!" Rick started to intervene, the idea of T left alone with a walker, by Daryl no less, a unnerving thought to process.

"I knew you could handle it!" Daryl yelled back, tossing some guts into the bucket. He chuckled. "Sides, the look on your face was priceless. I always knew you had a thing for dogs, Dog." T-Dog's face puffed up and his arms flexed.

"Stop it, both of you!" Lori pleaded desperately, her hand falling on T-Dog's arm.

He looked down at her, bundled against the warmth, then back at Daryl, and sighed. He sat back down again.

"What's all this noise going on in here? Ya'll are gonna bring the dead knocking at this rate." Maggie walked back into the room, a triumphant look on her face.

And Glenn followed, his head slightly lowered.

Daryl and T-Dog burst forth laughing, the tension breaking at the sight of Glenn before them.

And Glenn dropped his head further, the pink fleece hat, with the little ball on top, brightening up the room.

Carol knew she shouldn't have left the house. She should have taken someone with her. But they were all in there, first yelling, and now laughing, and she didn't have the heart to take them away from that.

They needed to be able to breathe for a moment. And as far she could see there weren't any walkers.

She shivered against the cold. How could there be anything out here, at this rate.

She approached the barn with some trepidation. Bad memories surfacing fast. It wasn't as big as Hershel's had been, and it certainly wasn't the same. But it was still a barn.

She could still see Sophia, slowly rounding the large double doors, her gait uneven. Still see her face, pale and ragged.

A walker.

She took a few more steps; the doors open enough that she could see there wasn't anything at the opening.

She realized it was getting harder to breathe the closer she got. And now she didn't know what had compelled her to come out here in the first place.

"What in the hell are you doin' out here?" She whirled at the voice, her heart pounding in her chest now.

Daryl stood there, crossbow in hand, patched up shirt a motley mix of pieces.

"I, uh," She swallowed against the lump in her throat. She felt her eyes beginning to burn. She turned away from him. She didn't want to cry, and certainly not in front of him.

"I wanted to see what was out here…" she trailed off. She could hear his boots, crunching against the frozen earth. He stopped just a foot behind her, to the side. His breath clouded in front of him.

"But…"

He glanced at her sideways.

"Sophia?" He said softly. She swallowed hard, and nodded.

"I didn't even think about it until…" She pulled her sweater tighter against her, a shiver traveling up her spine. "Until I was standing here."

Something about Daryl being there didn't make it so bad. She felt better for his presence at her side, even if she was being weak about it. She stole a breath, took some strength from Daryl's presence, and walked toward the barn doors.

She heard him follow.

He went in first, crossbow up. She didn't let him go in alone though. She followed close behind and they both found it empty.

And she realized she was holding her breath when she let it go. She looked round, Daryl already making headway. She looked around, the stables empty, tools left discarded.

"Don't come back here," Daryl called. He didn't have to tell her twice. She could smell the bodies from where she was.

Daryl continued looking through the barn, but she stopped at the desk. There was a ledger, full of names and receipts, documents and accounts. Whoever lived here was losing out on money.

And that made her sad to see. Would they have been glad that the world had ended, taking this debt with them? Would the end of the world be a new start for them? Or did they die, the moment the outbreak happened?

She closed the book.

It didn't matter anymore.

And there wasn't much else in the barn, so she figured she would just wait for Daryl to come back.

Until her eyes found something against the wall, hanging with the saddles.

"Daryl," she called.

Daryl came bounding through the barn, crossbow raised, position offensive. His eyes darted to every place that could hold danger.

But when he found Carol, she was by a back wall, holding up a blanket, worn, faded.

Something that belonged in the OK Corral.

She brought it up to her face, breathed it in, and smiled.

She turned to him quickly. "What do you think?"

"About what?" She sighed and walked closer to him, holding out the blanket.

"It still smells like the horses, and it looks like it's been through hell." She studied it better, holding it up against him. "Haven't we all, though," she muttered.

He didn't know what the hell she was talking about and he sure as hell didn't care to know either.

But if he was being honest, he did kind of like it. And it did look warm. Carol must have seen that on his face, because suddenly she was thrusting the blanket in his arms.

"For you," she said softly. He didn't take it, and didn't look happy about it.

"At first, I didn't think it would look right on you, but…" She studied him, and the blanket against him. He started to squirm against her gaze. He didn't like all this lookin' she was doing. He took a step back, keeping his hands down.

"I didn't ask for nothing. And certainly not no blanket." She smiled like it was perfectly fine that he had just dismissed her so callously, and she stepped forward again.

"It's a gift. And I think that you like it, whether you'd ever say so or not. And I think it would look…good on you." Now he knew he was embarrassed. He could see the tips of her cheeks, all pink. And if she was blushin', he could only guess what his damn face looked like.

"B-but-" She pushed it against his chest, ignoring his buts.

"I'm sick and tired of worried about you being cold, Daryl Dixon. You either wear the blanket, or I find you a cute fuzzy one like Maggie did for Glenn." He looked down at the blanket, forehead wrinkling in thought.

It really wasn't all that bad. It was warm, it wasn't no girlie thing, and he could do with it what he wanted. He could keep it a blanket, or he could put a hole in it, and use it like a coat that didn't have no arms. That would definitely not get in the way.

He nodded. Yeah, he could use it.

He took ahold of it, and looked up to see Carol smiling. "Let's go inside, then, and see what everyone's gotten themselves into."

"And you wouldn't believe what she would make us do." Beth was laughing now, leaning up against Hershel. The fire was going strong, and everyone was huddled in a circle.

"I seem to remember this going much differently," Hershel replied. Maggie laughed, leaning back into Glenn.

"That's because you like to think you were the one who made Christmas a joyous time." Hershel's face pinched, as he glared at his daughter.

"And just what do you mean I thought I was?" Beth and Maggie traded a glance, and then burst into a fit of giggles.

"Daddy, you know it was always mama who made Christmas Christmas. She always kept hiding the presents somewhere new every day we found them, thinking it was some kind of game. She would burn a few of the cookies and place them on top, just so you wouldn't eat them all." Hershel's face seemed stunned by this admission.

"And then she would play Christmas music, on a loop, for the entire week." Maggie's face took on a solemn, far-away look. "It used to drive me crazy," she admitted softly. Glenn kissed the side of her neck, rubbing her sides.

"Your mother always did make it a time to be grateful. She made me cherish the things that I had, especially you girls." Beth squeezed her father's arm, and nestled further into him.

"What did she make you do?" T-Dog asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Maggie stared off into the fire. "She used to make us dance at midnight," she said quietly. Carol took a seat beside T-Dog, Daryl standing behind her. Lori passed her the extra blanket she had left, giving a nod of thanks.

"Whether it was snowing, no matter how cold it was." Beth wiped at her eyes. "It was the most ridiculous thing, but for some reason, it always made us feel connected; to each other, to the world."

"Christmas became something else." Maggie exchanged a glance with Beth.

And Beth started shaking her head no. "Come on Bethie." Hershel wrapped an arm around her, kissing the top of her head.

She sighed. "Oh alright." And she started to sing.

Silent night. Holy night. All is calm, all is bright.

Rick and Lori exchanged a glance, the first in a while. Christmas had always been a special time for them. Rick gave her a nod as she rubbed her belly slowly.

Round yon virgin mother and child. Holy infant so tender and mild.

Carol leaned back, closing her eyes, her thoughts drifting back to Sophia again. Her shoulder brushed up against something warm and solid behind her. She didn't even need to turn to know that Daryl was sitting behind her, and that the blanket was draped over his shoulders. She could smell the horse.

Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace.

T-Dog could already feel himself drifting off. He let a chuckle slip past, allowing himself to laugh at Daryl's earlier prank. If he thought about it, the redneck must have done that stuff with his brother. And that made T-Dog feel special.

Silent night. Holy night. Son of God, love's pure light.

Glenn and Maggie exchanged a kiss, slow and sweet. He was still wearing that hat, and she loved him all the more for that. She snuggled into his chest, smiling, as her sister's voice reminded her of gentler times.

Radiant beams from thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace.

Hershel pulled Beth close to him, listening to her sweet voice serenade them all. She reminded him of her mama, and it was both saddening and wonderful to see.

Jesus, Lord at thy birth, Jesus, Lord at thy birth.

Carl stood off to the side, outside of the circle, but still close enough to feel the fire and couldn't help but feel love for the people sitting round the fire.

Glenn and Maggie, curled up together. His dad next to them. Hershel and Beth across from them, her voice drifting everyone off to sleep. His mom sat to Hershel's right, cupping her belly protectively, a warm smile gracing her features for the first time in a long time. T-Dog next to his mom, his head already tilted to the side, mouth half-open.

And Carol leaning back against Daryl, eyes closed, a smile on her face. Daryl had a new blanket draped over his shoulders and he didn't look exactly comfortable sitting there with everyone, and Carol leaning against him. But he didn't look ready to go either.

This was his family.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured.

Reviews are a sign of your kindness.

A/N: I just love the way Daryl says Sophia's name. It's like one of the sexiest and sweetest things ever (can it be both?). And Daryl got his poncho. :) From Carol of course. Anyway, I do angst/drama wayyy better than this kind of stuff. But I really wanted to do a Holiday special. I hoped you liked! This doesn't follow any of my other Walking Dead fics, but feel free to check those out. There all either Caryl, or Daryl.

Thanks for being in my Dead world.