Till Death Do Us Part: A Daryl Dixon Story (The Walking Dead)

8

Through all the drama of the men returning and Amy dying, I'd forgotten to ask about the sole reason the men had gone on the trip. And lucky for me, I'd ended up being placed with Daryl in his truck on the journey to the CDC. Of course I'd noticed Merle's absence upon Daryl and the rest of them returning, and I'd silently thanked the heavens for it, but I was still a little bit curious as to what exactly went down on their expedition. I didn't know how to bring the topic of his possibly dead brother up kindly, so I went straight for it.

'Is Merle-'

'He's not dead.' Daryl answered quickly and bluntly, as if he had been waiting for me to have asked that question.

That confused me at first, but then fear set in. Merle was out there somewhere? Had he been set free then exiled by the group, by Rick maybe? No, Daryl wouldn't vouch for that.

'Where is he then?'

Daryl ignored me. Two could play at that game. I'd ask Rick later, I thought. So I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them while I stared at the passing scenery out through the window. My wondrous mind unfortunately led my thoughts back to a day very much like this one -but also very much not like this one- a few months back. We were a few weeks from getting hitched. The wedding planning efforts were stressing me out. Money was a big issue for the two of us. When I could see there was no way Daryl and I could have afforded more than a cheap ceremony in a church neither of us attended and a reception in a rundown bar, I silently asked my step-father for a loan. James was more than happy to write a nice fat cheque. I did this behind Daryl's back because, of course, he would throw a fit. He hated taking money from anyone, and usually I agreed, but it was for my damn wedding! Of course I wanted to be a little grand and over the top. Anyway, when I finally caved in from the guilt of lying to my future husband, he became hysterical. Things were broken, harsh words were exchanged and tears were shed (by me of course). I had gotten so upset that I'd taken the keys and rushed outside our apartment block to the truck. I sat in the car for a while, calming myself down, and regaining my composure. I kept asking why a little donation from my family would upset him so much. My head was pressed against the steering wheel, my eyes closed. I heard a soft tap on my window. I peered to my side to find none other than Daryl, watching me with a cautious look on his face. I rolled my window down just a little.

'Sometimes I wonder how you can love a prick like me.' I didn't answer him, I just pressed my head against the steering wheel again.

'I hate seeing you like this, baby. And I hate knowing it was me who did this to you.'

Only then did he have my full attention. That was the closest I had ever gotten to an apology from Dixon. Daryl had never, never, apologised to me. His weak attempts at apologies were so pathetic I'd waved it away in the past. I knew he was trying to be sincere, but just didn't know how to express it.

I smiled at him, and then he knew he was in the clear. He walked around to the passenger seat and slid inside. He immediately tugged at me until I sat in his lap. His hands were on my hips, my arms folded around his neck. He brushed his lips against mine, and then gently bit my bottom one.

And just like that, our silly little fight which had resulted in two broken plates and a fork wedged into the carpeting, was forgotten.

But this was the present. So much had changed since that day, and I doubted a little lip biting would fix our problems. Eventually, Daryl's silence started to bother me.

'We used to tell each other everything.' I mumbled.

Still, Daryl ignored me.

I sighed and pressed my forehead against the cool window. My mind wondered to Merle again. And because of the taunting silence, the worst kind of memories were pulled up by my relentless mind.