Chapter 70 ↣ Good morning?

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"Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some come to clear your path."

— Anonymous

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Kathryn

It quickly became apparent that this storm had no intention of letting up anytime soon. Daryl and I rushed through the trees, racing back to our group. When we found them, we all turned tail and ran back to the barn.

Now I sat beside a small fire inside the barn. Our group scattered among the musty hay.

"I'll try," Glenn offered, reaching for the damp wood.

"Nah," Daryl said, "it's too wet."

I flinched in surprise when Daryl moved back besides me, pulling me once again into his lap. His fingers carded absentmindedly through my hair. My body instinctively relaxed, eyes fluttered closed.

Rick spoke, "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 said. "This isn't it."

"It might be," Glenn added.

"That's giving up," Michonne argued.

"That's reality."

"Until we see otherwise," Rick began, "this is what we have to live with." It was quiet for a long moment. "When I was a kid, I asked my grandpa once if he ever killed any Germans in the war. He wouldn't answer."

I swallowed hard. I forget that families existed outside this barn, that Rick had grandparents, uncles, and aunts. They had stories to share with him and love to give freely.

"He said that was grown-up stuff, 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 D.C., I know we'll be okay. Because this is how we survive. We tell ourselves...that we are the walking dead."

"We ain't them," Daryl's voice was hoarse in the air. His grip tightened around me. I lifted my head to look up at him, but his eyes were locked on Rick.

Rick's eyes flickered to me, and I hesitantly began, lowering my voice so only those around the fire could hear, "It's different for you. You began surviving after. We...we've been doing it our whole lives. Growing up, the world we got used to was like this. You showed us there was more, and now there's no going back. To go back would mean to never return, and we like walking in the light."

Rick hesitated. "I forget there was a time I didn't know you two. I'm sorry."

I reached out a hand, and Rick took it. "We endure. Even if it looks different outwardly."

"We endure," Rick echoed.

"Tell another story," I said, straightening. "I like your stories."

Rick smiled, and Daryl released a breath. Thank you.

I retract my hand from Rick and instead flit my fingers across Daryl's cheek, brushing away a few strands of hair. Of course.

"The best call I ever got while being a policeman started like this. Shane and I are patrolling as we normally do when we get a call about a young woman having showed up to a home and punching the homeowner in the face. A neighbor had called it in. Saw the whole thing. We get there to find out that it's a foster home for kids, and the owner doesn't want to press charges on this mystery woman. In fact, they want us out of there as soon as we arrive."

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