The aged window panes creaked beneath the weight of the wind that blew harshly against them, nearly threatening to break them. And the clouded glass froze with the snow that stuck stiffly to it, covering the window with a crystal like effect from the million of tiny snowflakes grouped together. The snowstorm raged on the other side of the rickety cabin, but inside the thinly held walls, you had managed to warm the living room enough to provide relief from the horrendous December weather.
Somehow, in the dead of the night as you traveled blindly in the dark, Daryl Dixon had found an old abandoned hunter's cabin. Hidden within the underbrush of a cluster of snow covered evergreens, it stood like a mirage in the middle of a dry desert. Unbelievable and beautiful. You had both stumbled across a place of safety and security in the moment you needed it the most.
You barely made it to the house, the pains that shot throughout your body like a shock wave were so intense, but Daryl kept his steady arm wrapped around you. Insuring that you would in no way fall into an aching heap in the snow. He wouldn't let you. Daryl guided you carefully but quickly up the steps to the cabin, and the anxiety of the situation caused his breathing to deepen, as you listened to the quickened breath fan against your ear. As you finally reached the top step, seeming far further than only a couple of steps, he rested you in the chair that sat beside the door as he cleared the cabin of any walkers. Returning shortly later and ushering you in gently, his arms strong as they guided your pained and screaming body into the safe haven.
Your mind was clouded by the sharp pains that plagued your weakened body, but Daryl Dixon provided you with all of the strength you needed.
The howl of the gusting wind whistles loudly as the front door pushes open, letting in a strong rush of freezing winter air along with swirling snow that melted instantly from the heat of the burning fire. Daryl shut the door roughly with the heel of his foot, as he stomped forward with his arms full of wood to keep the fire he had built in the fireplace burning. And you watched as he dumped the stack down on the floor beside the fireplace.
"It's-- getting worse out there," You breathed out through clenched teeth, your jaw cringing at the pain.
Daryl shook his head as he walked the small distance towards where you rested on the floor, leaning back against the old and worn couch in the middle of the room. He had moved the piece of furniture out from the corner, and closer to the fire in an attempt to help warm your shivering skin faster.
"Don't worry about what's goin on out there." He mumbled under his breath, and he reached for the bowl of water he had left on the nearby scratched up coffee table. And dipping the red rag he always had hanging out of his back pocket, he rung out the access water before pressing it against your clammy temples. Your entire body was slick with sweat and Daryl did his best to try and cool you down while keeping you warm enough with the fire. "Jus worry bout what's goin on in here."
Nodding your head faintly, you squeezed your eyes tightly shut as another contraction shot through your body. It was a pain that was indescribable. There had never been a time in your life that you had felt such pain, even when a bullet tore through your shoulder a year or two back, it had no comparison to the anguish your body was going through in this moment.
Bringing a child into the world these days sounded like the worst idea a person could have, and yet here you were, doing the very thing you had tried to hard to avoid. It wasn't that you didn't want to share a child with Daryl Dixon. It was that you didn't want to share a child with the rotten and twisted world you lived in now.
It frightened you, the moment you discovered the little person you carried around inside of you. How could you bring a baby into a life of fear? How could you manage to keep it alive when you still struggled to keep yourself alive? But slowly, as you began to feel it move inside of you, as you started to imagine what he or she might look like, the fear slowly dimmed. You were forever going to be scared, but when you felt your son or daughter kick beneath your touch, you knew that the overwhelming worry had to be worth it.
