a_littlefaith | (no subject)

The apartment looks amazing, so at least there's that.

Beth has put a lot of work into the decorations, the lights and the tree. There are wrapped gifts under the tree, most of them for Judith and Carl, and there are cookies and candies and chocolates on the table. The rest of the apartment is more or less the same, she doesn't have a lot of extra money to be buying Christmas place settings or anything like that, but she thinks she's done a good job regardless.

And it's a good thing, too, because she's not sure dinner is going to turn out the way it's supposed to.

It's not bad, not from what she can tell, but it's just not very good either. Nothing is burned or overflowing, nothing is undercooked and nothing looks like it might possibly poison someone accidentally. But she's tasted everything and it's all just kind of bland.

The only thing this dinner has going for it is dessert, which is apple crumble and the one thing Beth did learn how to bake from her mother. It's still in the oven and it smells delicious and she's sort of hoping no one will notice that cinnamon and apple is the only smell in the apartment when they arrive for dinner.

She doesn't say anything about it, not to Daryl, but she sits down at the piano and plays a soft, melancholy song, something that's got no place at a bright, cheery Christmas dinner.

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He knows it when he sees it, or he's pretty sure he does. Because he's been feeling it, and he's pretty sure Beth has too - it was difficult to miss what she was playing before, the mood of it, and there's a way she's been looking at the tree.

She wanted so much for this to be a special Christmas, it meant so much to her, but there are some things she just can't do. Some gaps she just can't fill. And it breaks his heart a little, but maybe it's also a little better than she's not the only one feeling it. If it's something they're all sharing, another weight they carry together.

Because they're family.

"Hey." He sits down next to Carl, looks from the plate to him. He doesn't need to ask if he's all right. That's not a very smart question. "Guessin' it's not the food. Ain't amazin' but it ain't that bad."

"We missed two Christmases. I mean, it was two, right? I... I can't even remember," he said, scraping the tines of his fork across his plate.

"Or I guess this one's just late? I don't know, it just... It seems weird, you know?"

He understood why Beth wanted to do it, but he couldn't shake the feeling like they were pretending. It felt like they were playing house. It felt like none of this was real.

He shrugs. "I never could keep track'a that shit. Never tried." It had seemed important to some of the others, but to him... What was the point? It was all just days, one after the other, and whether or not you made it through the next one. Maybe Beth had kept ideas of birthdays and holidays, but it was like watching it from across a divide.

"Yeah, it's weird. I mean, it's good, it's just..." He shrugs again, smaller, and looks at the tree. "Christmas wasn't so much a thing when I was a kid, anyway."

"Yeah?" Carl said, but it wasn't really a question. From what little he knew, about Daryl's mother and about Merle, it would've been a shock to find out that Daryl had many happy memories about the holiday. It made Carl a little queasy to think about, but he doubted Daryl had many happy childhood memories at all.

"It's kind of weird for me because it was," he admitted, shifting awkwardly in his seat. "I mean, Mom always made it a big deal."

"Yeah." He doesn't think he needs to explain why. And he doesn't need Carl to explain why. They both understand this well enough by now, and it's one of the things he's grateful for.

He doesn't have to do a lot of explaining to anyone. No one who matters.

"Means somethin' different now," he says quietly. He could say he's sorry, but that also feels unnecessary. Carl knows he is. There's no way to be sorry enough for that kind of loss. "Was always gonna."

"Beth is really into it, though," Carl said, a smile flickering quickly across his face.

Carl might've been a teenager, but he was still observant enough to know how much effort Beth had put into this whole thing, and how badly she wanted the day to be nice for them.

It wasn't about what they'd lost. Not really. It was about them. That they were still together, even in a place like Darrow.

"Yeah, she is." He returns the smile, just as quick, but very warm. He's still not entirely sure how to handle this around people, him being with her, but at least he doesn't feel like he has to hide that this is probably the happiest he's ever been. However weird it is.

"Figured I'd let her go nuts with it if she wanted to. Ain't hurtin' no one."

And the piano in the living room is all the evidence anyone should ever need that he's not serious.

Carl cut Daryl a skeptical look. "Like you could've stopped her if you wanted to."

Beth was sweet and Beth was kind, but she was stubborn. If she wanted something, wanted it badly enough, it was nearly impossible to talk her out of it.

"You're into it," Carl said, like he was making some wild accusation, revealing a secret that no one seemed to want to talk about.