We Stand Together (Rickyl)

Chapter 7

Rick's POV
THERE ARE SOME MILD SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T YET WATCHED SEASON 5. (Not that I'm going to point them out specifically)

I rubbed my hands gently through Daryl's hair as he slept with his head on my lap. I watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest with every soft breath, and I couldn't help but love him. This world is dark, and Daryl is my light. Ugh. I shook the cheesy thoughts from my head and grazed my eyes over the group. I was the only one awake.
My eyes stopped when they reached Judith and Carl. A small pang of guilt pierced me through the chest when my thoughts drifted to Lori. Of course, I,loved her, but that is all over. I need to focus on my future...pfft, as if there is actually anything worth waiting for. To us, "future" means surviving till the next day. Then what? We repeat it the next day. No safe haven is truly safe. No cure is coming. And anyone can die at any given moment. Even Daryl.
The thought of Daryl dying caused a lump to grow in my throat, and I quickly swallowed it down. The other man draped his arm across my thighs and nestled his head further into my legs. A small smile appeared on my face and I gently rubbed his back, careful not to wake him. It was the moments when he was asleep that all signs of worry and pain were gone, leaving peace in their place.
Cool gusts of wind blew through the cabin and the sound of rain beating against the barn got slightly louder. It was definitely a welcome sound. All of our containers were full and the dryness of our lips gone.
"Dad," Carl's voice interrupted my thoughts. I nodded in his direction. "I wanted to say sorry about earlier. I know you loved mom. Just, not anymore."
"It's okay, son. Go back to sleep, you could use the rest."
"So could you." Daryl looked up at me.
"Sorry, did we wake you?"
"It's alright. Get some sleep, I can take the next watch."
"Thanks." I grunted, and was soon asleep, pressed against the man I love.

I was startled awake by,the sound of screams, pounding, and pouring rain.
"Rick!" Daryl screamed. He was pushing against the barn doors, trying to hold them shut. Walkers were pushing against them. I quickly got up and helped push against the doors. The rest of the group quickly followed. We struggled against the doors, letting out occasional grunts of effort. Rain pounded in through the dooes, soaking us. Dozens of Walkers were pushing, growling, and biting at the air, trying to get in. Even with all of us working together, it was extremely hard to keep the doors closed. I prayed that the doors would not swing open, because if they did, we are like fish in a barrel...