Both Eyes Open - Daryl Dixon (under editing)

The Storm.

(This chapter is dedicated to SophiePrieto thank you so much for being such an amazingly supportive reader and having such a kind heart.  
Sorry for such a big delay on the update.
Ps has everyone been watching the newest series?!)

As the thunder kept booming, the group stood soaking before the barn, and Rick stepped forward to take the lead. Gun in one hand and torch in the other, Rick swung the door open, and a few of the group swooped inside, weapons armed and ready.

Lara stayed near to Daryl, and Carol and Abraham went to the other side of the barn, whilst Maggie and Glenn remained nearer the entrance.

Lara lowered the axe when she felt confident enough to do so, turning away from the far left hand corner of the barn to go back and regroup, but she came face first with Daryls chest with a grunt.

A hand reflexively went to Lara's back as Daryl steadied her on her feet.

"Ye good?" He asked her softly, looking down at her, his moistened hair falling in strands in front of his face when he asked her this.

"Yeah. All good." She nodded vigorously, without realising how odd she looked, and not registering the curious look Daryl gave her.

Lara stepped around him, and he quietly observed her as her empty hand started gesturing at her side. Daryl heaved a heavy sigh knowing that this was meant for Fergus, and she didn't even register that she was doing it. A silent shot emanated from the front of the barn.

"She had a gun." Maggie mumbled, as Carol peered over her shoulder at the dead walker with the gaping hole in its forehead.

"She could have shot herself." She sighed.

"Some people can't give up." Carol told her softly.

"Like us." Lara mumbled as she dropped her bag to the floor with a thud.

~~~

Carol watched Rick looking over his shoulder at Carl, who lay with his head against Lara's shoulder as she cleaned her nails with her knife.

"He's gonna be okay." Carol told him. "He bounces back more than any of us do."

"I used to feel sorry for kids that have to grow up now. In this. But I think I got it wrong. Growing up is getting used to the world. This is easier for them-"

"This isn't the world." Michonne interjected, glaring harshly at Rick. "This isn't it."

There was a pang of silence as the thunder filled the air.

"It might be. It might." Glenn mumbled.

"-That's giving up." Michonne retorted, obviously frustrated with his mindset.

"It's reality." Rick stopped her.

"Until we see otherwise, this is what we have to live with." He said, pointing at the dirt below him, his face illuminated by the firelight.

Michonnes head fell slightly, avoiding eye contact with the leader.

"When I was a kid... I asked my grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war. He wouldn't answer. He said that was grown-up stuff, so... so I asked if the Germans ever tried to kill him. But he got real quiet. He said he was dead the minute he stepped into enemy territory. Every day he woke up and told himself, "Rest in peace. Now get up and go to war." And then after a few years of pretending he was dead... he made it out alive. That's the trick of it, I think. We do what we need to do and then we get to live. But no matter what we find in DC, I know we'll be okay. Because this is how we survive. We tell ourselves... that we are the walking dead."

There was a prolonged silence, and Lara looked up from behind the group at the fire just as Daryl spoke.

"We ain't them."

Daryl pushed himself onto his knees and snapped a branch, throwing it onto the fire. Lara ran her fingers delicately through Carl's hair as he lightly snoozed on her.

Rick tilted his head at his friend, "We're not them."

When Daryl didn't responded Rick leaned forward even more, and whispered a little louder, "Hey. We're not." He shook his head.

Daryl didn't break eye contact with his friend until he was stood on his feet.

"We ain't them." He repeated, before lifting his crossbow and walking away from the group, past Lara, toward the doors.

Lara's eyes followed the man as he endlessly paced back and forth before the doors. Her eyes crawled along the wings on his back and wished for him to glance back at her and let her know he was alright, but she wished for too much. That was never going to happen. He was too strong. Too quiet. Too stubborn. Just like her.

~~~

Thunder crashed around the barn, while everyone lay sound asleep, except one.

Daryl Dixon still paced by the doors impatiently, anticipating something, anything to go wrong. Which it usually did.

Lara sat peacefully against the wall with Carl sound asleep, his head still resting on her lap. She dozed off here and there, but couldn't properly succumb to sleep. Something felt off. Something in the back of her mind didn't sit right with her.

And with the first growl murmuring through the howling wind confirming her very thoughts, she knew that they were in danger.

Her eyes sprung wide open and she saw Daryl suddenly drop his crossbow to the side, tightening the chains around the doors and slamming his back against the wet wood, wincing when he was thrown forward, but never moving from his spot.

Immediately, Maggie leapt to her feet and ran over to his aid. Lara squeezed Carl's shoulder and roused him into consciousness, allowing him to sit up slightly from her before she sprinted across the barn to join the pair in their battle against the oncoming herd.

One by one the group joined them, until everyone was pressed tightly together, panting and grunting against the wooden doors, fighting back the incredible strength of the walkers on the other side.

The thunder crashed and the lightening crackled above their heads, rain seeping through the gaps in the wood, splinters engraining into sweating palms and dirt creeping into hair and clothes like the plague.

Lara was sandwiched between Rick, Daryl and Maggie, occasionally catching their eyes as everyone offered half hearted looks of struggling encouragement.

We're gonna make it, she told herself.

Crack! Lightening illuminated her surroundings, and she saw a walker through the gap in the door being impaled by a fallen branch, and crumpling to the floor. Victory was short felt as another walker took its place instantaneously.

We're gonna make it, she told herself.

Thud! The group stumbled backward only to charge forward once again, prevailing at the doors. They were going to win this fight.

Lara blinked through her greasy strands of hair and through the gaps in the door to see the walkers outside stumbling about lost, but many still approaching the barn, much to her dismay.

We're gonna make it, she told herself.

She turned away from the doors as the lightening illuminated the outside once more and she saw not much difference to the sights previous. Her back was pressed to the door, her feet digging into the muck below, her shoulder blades being pinched by the door every time she felt pushed forward.

We're gonna... we can make it. Can't we...

Lara's screwed up face displayed the amount of force she was exerting on the door, just like everyone else. Her head fell to the side and her eyes found Daryls. His face gleamed with fresh sweat and veins were growing on his arms as he gripped the wood of the door with ferocity.

His eyes told a different story however. They told her they would be okay. They would get through this.

We're gonna make it, she told herself.

We're gonna-