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

21

Woodbury. That's what that little utopia of a closed off safe house was called. They took us straight to their infirmary and their first order of business was to check us out. Michonne and I were fine. Andrea was the one in need of help. I could tell just by the look from Michonne's face that she didn't trust any of these men. I didn't need a reason to not trust them; Merle could be in charge of a puppy rescue centre and it'd still be the breeding grounds of evil.
The door opened and Merle walked inside.
'Go check on your other patients, doc.' He said, his eyes never leaving mine. I didn't listen to any of his further ramblings. His voice made me sick. His presence reminded me of a dark time that I thought I'd forgotten. I silently cursed myself for thinking I could run away from demons. I had spent all winter trying to forget who Erin Dixon was, but she was relentless. The girl from my past had crept up behind me to slit my throat. That girl had allowed so much shit to happen to her and she'd just taken it in stride. And what was she left with? Nothing. Nothing but a shackled past and a dreary future.
'You seen my brother?'
Now he had my attention. I glanced at Andrea, hoping she'd catch my drift and shut up about that.
'Not for a long time.' Andrea answered.
'Makes two of us.' Merle chuckled, and glanced at me. 'Miss your husband?'
I didn't answer. Closing my eyes and shutting their drawling out, I tried to picture Daryl. No matter how much time passed, I could never forget the startling blue of his eyes and the bags underneath them that screamed all the hardships he'd endured. When I reopened my eyes, Merle and Andrea seemed to be having some kind of sentimental moment. It made me sick. How could Andrea not know that this man was incapable of emotion? Andrea was explaining to him how we got run off the farm by a herd and that Daryl could still be alive.
'How long ago?' Merle asked.
'Seven, eight months.' Andrea responded. 'Erin and I were separated from the rest of them. Got left behind.'
'Ain't that de ja vu, Erin? Getting left behind.' but his tone wasn't mocking. He was hiding something, I could sense it. I narrowed my eyes at him. Now that my past decided to show its face, I was reminded of my last night on the farm. The night when Daryl had reached out and touched me for the first time in months. The night where I had gotten this close to getting my answers. This time I would be sure to get them. Even though Daryl was long gone, a whisper of my past, I deserved some kind of closure. I just needed to know if Daryl had any love left for me, and when I got my answer I swore I would forget all about him. It was easier that way. Forgetting was always easier.
Andrea asked Merle what they wanted from us, and Merle seemed to snap out of his thoughts which I suspected were about me. He became real offended by Andrea questioning his 'hospitality'. He continued his ranting until I was this close to mutter a "thank you" just to get him to shut up. Andrea instead gave what I gathered as a genuine thanks and it worked just as well. Michonne and I glared at her. The door opened and the man in charge walked in and whispered something in Merle's ear before turning to us. He was tall, had a charming face and smoothed down hair that screamed lame. I always hated that hairstyle.
'How you feeling?' he asked. His typical friendly-next-door-neighbour face was smiling down at us. I stifled the urge to scoff. There was no need to piss the hospitable man and his charming friends off.
'We want our weapons.' Michonne demanded, stepping in front of Andrea.
'Sure,' the man said. 'On your way out the front gates.'
'Show us the way.' Andrea said. 'You've kept us locked up in this room.'
'You see any bars on the windows?' The man had a certain charm and charisma about him, instantly making me doubt his character. 'You're being cared for.'
'Under guard.'
'To protect our people. We don't know you.' The man replied, sounding resigned in what he probably considered a fruitless argument.
'We know enough about you to want out of this place. We watched you drive a knife through the skulls of two dead men. What the hell was that all about?'
The man in charge looked at each of us, as if taken back by our response. 'They turned.'
'They weren't bitten.' Michonne said in her angry whisper of a voice.
Merle and the man in charge exchanged glances. 'Doesn't matter. However we die, we all turn. I put them out of their misery.'
What? How did we not know that? That changed everything right? That meant we were all infected with whatever caused this outbreak. I rubbed my brow at that new piece of knowledge. Was it even true though? I guess I'd have to see it for myself. Before I knew it, we were promised food, ammo and a car after we were to spend the night in this town. It sounded promising and I was exhausted enough to accept the offer forced upon us.
We were given a tour of Woodbury the following morning. The man in charge's name was the Governor. How very un-tyrant of him. Even though I had slept better than I had all winter in a soft bed after a warm shower, I was still suspicious of this place. The change of clothes I was provided with didn't help sway my judgement either. Like I said, any place Merle was made hell seem like dream vacation. The woman giving us the tour, I forgot her name, was chattering on and on about the town facts and history. She sounded like a little bird excited about her nest. It was boring and frankly all I wanted to do was eat and leave. I gathered that Michonne felt the same as she trailed next to me, giving the whole town an angry scowl. I felt sorry for anyone unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of her murderous glare. Michonne could be quite the intimidator. The woman took off down another road, but I remained fixed on my spot. The make-shift gardens a few women were tending to caught my attention. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself standing over the flowers. They were the same flowers that used to bloom outside my childhood home in Pennsylvania. I suddenly thought of my mom, Carla, everything about my old life. It seemed like the more I tried to run from my past the tighter it clutched on to me. I suddenly wondered if by some miracle by family had survived. But I ditched those hopeful thoughts as soon as my crazy mind conjured them. Carla was dead. My mom was dead. My step-father was dead. My whole fucking family was dead.
I groaned at the bitter route my thoughts had taken. I gazed at the purple flowers and forced myself to think of happier days. I remembered the day when Daryl and I had flown up to visit Timothy, Carla and their newborn baby, Sam. The little girl was named after my mother, Samantha. I tried not to let that little detail bother me at the time, because it had always been clear to me who was the black sheep of my family. I couldn't have been any more different from the rest of them. My mom had blonde hair and blue eyes, Carla being an almost identical copy of her. My black hair and slightly russet skin came from my unknown father. It was a constant reminder of who the outcast of the family was. I groaned again, realising that I couldn't even try and think up happy thoughts anymore. Had everything always been this bitter and unpleasant?
'Beautiful, aren't they?' A man's voice came from behind me. I turned and stared at one of the men from the SUV's. He was tall, muscular and Latin. His cap was worn back-to-front. He looked at me, waiting for my reply, a hint of a smile teasing his face.
'Sorry, I got distracted.' I mumbled as I walked past him, annoyed by his fixed stare on me.
'Hey,' He stopped me with an arm on my shoulder. 'It's alright. Nothing wrong with admiring beauty.'
I frowned at him after those words. He gazed back at me, then glanced to the side and gave a light chuckle, his eyes on the ground. His touch lingered on my shoulder as he pulled his hand away.
'I-uh-the flowers, I mean.' He stumbled over his words like a teenage boy. 'The flowers are beautiful.'
I raised my eyebrows in amusement. I took a better look at his face, and decided he was kind of handsome. He had a rough around the edges look about him, something I had always been attracted to. You could take one look at my missing husband to confirm that.
'Martinez.' He said, breaking the awkward silence between us and extending his hand for me to shake.
'Erin,' I shook his hand, but he held on as I pulled back. 'I should get back.'
I looked up to find Michonne, Andrea and the Woodbury-enthusiast missing.
'They're on their way to the Governor's house for breakfast. I'll take you.' He said with a smile and his fingers trailed down my hand as he let go.
I raised an eyebrow but stayed where I was. This was the same man who had beaten in the face of two walkers with a silver bat. His eagerness to assist me screamed untrustworthy. Hell, anyone who even knew Merle's name here was deemed untrustworthy in my eyes. But rather than get lost and arouse suspicion trying to find the Governor's lair, I decided to let him lead the way.
'Sure,' I eventually said and walked in line with him.
'So, Erin,' he mused. 'You must be tough if you can survive all winter outside, hiding in the trees?'
'I wasn't alone.' I answered bluntly.
'It's good to have people looking out for you.' He agreed with a nod. 'At least you'll be safe behind these walls.'
I stopped walking and faced him. 'We're not staying.'
He dropped his eyes to his boots and when they lifted to mine again, his expression was almost...shy and embarrassed?
'Yeah, of course, sure,' He said softly, and picked up his pace again.
I carried on walking. 'Nice thing you got going here.'
'Yeah,' he said. 'A great place for a beautiful flower like yourself to bloom.'
I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at his moving figure. He turned his head to give me a smirk, and I couldn't help but bite my lip and look away, a hint of a blush forming on my cheeks. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all.