𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂 | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝑵𝑬𝑼𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑪

𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘛𝘌𝘙 𝘚𝘐𝘟𝘛𝘌𝘌𝘕 

☼

As if a storm hadn't been enough. As if the ferocious winds and the heavy rainfall, and the thunder and the lightening hadn't been enough, they had been faced with the real, possibility of being swarmed by walkers too. It had been Daryl who had spotted the threat, and thereafter a fight for their lives had broken out, and not in the usual sense. 

All exhausted and barely steady on their feet, the entire group had rushed to the barn doors to hold them closed, joining Daryl as soon as it became clear that something was wrong up front. With their feet digging into the soil, sliding with their lost traction and their hands pressing into the warped wood of the doors, there wasn't a single person that did not help. It took every single person in the group to make it happen, to keep them safe and alive. For some strange reason, it felt like a pivotal moment for them, because so far there had been segregation in the group.

People sticking to other people, not really branching out. It hadn't ever really felt whole. 

Not until last night.

Delaney's hands were still sore from how hard she'd been pressing into the wood, her body aching with the strain she had put it under so shortly after fainting. Exhaustion was burrowing deep into her bones that morning, and as desperate as she was to sleep, it simply would not come. With her bloodshot eyes, and her throbbing temples, Delaney slid down beside Daryl at the wall and watched - waiting, praying that nothing else came for them.

They knew that outside it was going to be a mess. They'd all heard the groaning and thunderous snapping of tree's, and considering those tree's out there had been thick, it was kind of a miracle that none of them had fallen on the barn. 

Her eyes occasionally swept over where everyone had collapsed tiredly onto the floor, laying close enough together to seem like a pack of puppies. It was warming and it brought a slither of a smile to her lips when she saw Carl laying by Rick, of whom was holding Judith against his chest. 

Delaney had been picking at the dirt clinging to her knees, scratching her chipped nails against the material. Daryl hadn't said a word to her, barely even looking in her direction, and she supposed he was still angry with her, and at this point, she was just tired of it. Tired of feeling like the bad guy, tired of feeling guilty. 

She sighed through her nose, leaning her head back against the wall. 

"I was gonna do it." 

Out of her peripheral vision, Delaney saw Daryl tense. He rigidly stopped picking at the hole at his knee, and yet, he didn't tell her to shut up. He knew what she'd meant, he wasn't stupid, and some part of her was relieved that he didn't immediately get to his feet and walk off. She dropped her arms to her knees and continued to stare ahead at the doors.

"I owe ya an explanation at least - I don't wanna die, ya should know that...but - part 'a me knows - and you know too - that if we keep goin' on like this I aint gonna make it." He shifted, barely beside her, turning his head to look at her as she lent pathetically back into the wood. She was pale and a sheen of sweat was back at her forehead, her dark hair sticking to it. It was like her body couldn't figure out whether to be cold or hot, and today she felt hot. " - It wasn't ta hurt ya. I'd never..." she paused, feeling her lip tremble a little, "...It - It hurts so fuckin' much...It's like I can't take a breath without feelin' like there's shards of glass in ma lungs..."