Adapting (A Daryl Dixon/ The Walking Dead Fanfiction)

Chapter 59

Gemma's P.O.V
I open my eyes and sit up, my hand clutching at my chest. My breathing is ragged as my eyes take in the barn. I calm my breathing, reminding myself it was a dream. I look beside me and freeze in my movements. I see Daryl fast asleep not too far from me, looking relaxed and peaceful. I long to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, but I resist, not wanting to wake him up.

I sit up, feeling the aching in my back from the rough floor and I groan silently. I roll my shoulders, my eyes scrunching up as I wince. I take a deep breath, the smell of the barn hitting me. I quickly stand up and dash out the doors of the barn, throwing up on the ground. The morning sickness is particularly strong this morning, the meal of the dogs wasted.

I sit back and wipe my arm on my mouth, tasting the bile on my tongue. My eyes scan over the forest and I stare in confusion and disbelief. Walkers lay impaled or dead surrounding the barn, the trees stripped bare and fallen over. Surrounding the barn is destruction and chaos, whereas the barn remains untouched. I wonder how this could have happened? How the barn remained safe through the storm?

The door opening startles me, bringing me back to my thoughts. I look over and see Carol step out of the barn, her eyes focused on me. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she walks over to me, an expression of concern on her face, "I just came to check on you."

"I'm fine." I mutter, getting to my feet, the irritation back.

I stumble, suddenly feeling light headed. Carol rushes forward, her arm reaching out to steady me. I recoil from her touch and step away from her, anger flaring through me veins, "Just back off!"

She looks at me taken aback, but the anger doesn't waver as I continue my verbal lashing, "You don't give up, do you? You are always there, annoying the absolute shit out of me. Just stop it!" I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air.

"Gemma, I-" she begins.

I cut her off, "No Carol, you listen. I need you to stop interfering with my life. You are already on my last nerve with your constant presence around Daryl, I don't need you on my back too. Just leave me alone, and better yet while you're going leave Daryl alone. He's my husband, not yours. I'd be grateful if you could respect that once in awhile."

I storm past her into the barn, resisting the urge to slam the door behind me. My shoulders heave as I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to calm myself down. I have no idea where the anger came from and I begin to feel guilty. Yet at the same time, it feels good to let out my anger and frustration. The wooziness still affects me somewhat and I walk over to sit beside Tara, leaning against the wall.

"You alright?" She asks.

I laugh bitterly, "Peachy."

"Rough morning?" She asks.

"Rough apocalypse." I mumble.

She chuckles, "You can say that again."

I lean back and close my eyes, taking deep breathes.

"Here." She says, offering me her water bottle.

I smile in appreciation and take it from her, "Thank you."

I open the lid and drink away the taste of the morning sickness, the water refreshing to my parched throat. Everybody begins to wake up, doing mindless jobs as we wait to figure out what to do next.

"Hey." Maggie calls out, opening the door.

"This is Aaron." She says, opening it wider to reveal a short Caucasian man, Sasha aiming a gun at his back.

We all stand up and I draw my gun out, aiming it at him with the others. Daryl rushes towards the man, quickly checking outside before beginning to pat the man down.