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

23

Martinez's little apartment wasn't far from the Governor's lair. It was smaller than the Governor's but bigger than the room Andrea, Michonne and I were given. It had a small kitchen with an adjoining lounge and two rooms which I supposed were his bedroom and bathroom. It was cozy and had a more welcoming atmosphere than the Governor's extravagant place.
'Because of the limited resources, I'm making spaghetti bolognaise.' His hand rested on the small of my back as he guided me inside his apartment. 'I know it's nothing impressive but yeah.'
'It's more than I can make.' I said. Cooking was never my strongpoint. That was usually Daryl's job, as strange as it was for a redneck countryman like himself to be familiar in the kitchen. I had joked that I'm not a fan of hillbilly cooking when he first made dinner for us, but the man ended up knocking me off my feet when he served me some of the best pasta I'd had in my life. My chest tightened -why was I thinking about Daryl of all people right now?
'Well shoot, I was hoping you'd help, but I wouldn't want to burn down half of Woodbury.'
'Now I definitely have to help.' I pursed my lips at him, humour evident on my face. We set to making the spaghetti. Martinez had me talking non-stop, laughing at his lame attempts at humour and blushing every other second. He was anything but a gentleman, which I would be sure to mention to Michonne later on. While he was making the sauce, he somehow managed to get a pretty good mess on his hands. He thought it would be funny to smear sauce across my face, bringing a laugh and a look of revenge from me. But before I could retaliate, he had taken a napkin and gently wiped the sauce from my cheek, then he ran his thumb gently down the side of my face. The look of intensity from his eyes nearly burned a hole through my face. Jeez, he was intimidating, but I kind of liked it.
He finished up while I took a tour of his little place. His bedroom door remained shut and I took that as a good sign. Maybe this guy was as genuine as he appeared to be. I only found one photo that he had framed on the wall. It was a picture of him, a beautiful woman who I assumed had been his wife, and his two boys who looked about six and seven. This man had a family. He had loved and cherished them, but they didn't make it.
'Her name was Carmen.' He had snuck up behind me. I could also hear the pain in his voice. 'We were married for eight years.'
I turned to face him, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were still fixed on the photo of his family. 'What happened?' I asked.
'I came home from work, panicked because I'd just seen a co-worker tear off my boss's face. We used to joke about killing the man, but I knew this was more than a revenge kill when he started eating the guy. I rushed home to a horror story. I wasn't there to protect them.'
His eyes were by now closed as he relived that painful day and I wondered whether I made a mistake by asking.
'I haven't thought about that day for a long time. Not for as long as the Governor took me in.'
'You trust this man?' I asked, and his eyes reopened.
'With my life.' He said firmly. 'Look at what he's created for us.'
I moved past him and sat down on his couch. He joined me, his thigh barely pressing against mine.
'Where's your family?' He asked, but I could tell he wasn't prying. He looked more concerned. 'Andrea and Michonne are your friends, not your family.'
I gave him a weak smile. 'My family live in Pennsylvania, if they're still alive. My husband...he's just gone.'
Martinez looked at me questionably, not asking for me to continue, but I did anyway.
'I was separated from my old group -from my husband- with Andrea after a herd tore through our camp. But, we were over for a long time before that anyway. I didn't realize that until this winter. I was so blind by my love that I couldn't see that it was one-sided. I desperately held onto the fragments of our marriage, which was anyway doomed from the start.'
'Are you serious?' Martinez sounded shocked. 'You're telling me that even though the world was falling apart around us, he just didn't want you? That doesn't add up.'
It would add up if I told him the whole story, but it was best if I just left the past in the past. I shrugged at him.
'No, that doesn't make sense. Even if my wife and I were going through the worst shit-storm ever, I wouldn't give our problems a second thought. My only priority would be to keep her safe, and happy.'
His hand found its way on my knee and I welcomed the warmth and comfort of it. My eyes flickered to his, and the way his dark eyes were gazing into mine made me think that his last sentence was meant for me. His hand slid higher up my leg and rested on my upper thigh. His fingers tensed and tightened around me. I took in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of how close his face was to mine. His lips were parted, his eyes heavy with emotion. I could feel his warm, even breaths against my lips. I closed the space between us, my hand sliding up his neck and pulling him closer to me. His eyes fluttered closed and I closed the tiny gap between us...
But it felt wrong. Very wrong. Daryl's sad and betrayed face appeared in my thoughts, and it was suddenly his breath I felt on my lips. I pulled back with a sudden movement, confusion and shock clear in my eyes. I stood up, my chest moving up and down in erratic movements. This was wrong, this was very, very wrong. Martinez stared up at me, unclear of what just happened.
'Erin, what's-'
'I'm sorry. Thanks for inviting me over, but I can't do this. I should leave.' My words were rushed and underlined with emotion. I rushed out his apartment without giving him a second glance.
Oh God, oh God. What was wrong with me? Daryl wasn't dead. He was my husband, and I loved him. Despite my best efforts, the woman I'd tried to lock away came hurtling back. That woman who still loved Daryl with every fibre of her being, whether he was here or not. This was all very, very wrong. I had almost broken so many promises, so many vows in the short span of minutes. I had promised him till death do us part, and I had to stick to that promise. It doesn't matter that he's not here. The only thing that mattered was my vow.
Maybe this was why terrible things kept happening to me. I was a terrible person. I heard the sounds of glass breaking behind Martinez's closed door as I rushed off.
//
I'm pretty sure some if you wanted to see Erin and Martinez getting down but I just couldn't do it lol. And hey! All you silent readers put there, I'd really love it if you left a vote or comment behind. It'd mean a lot and I always reply ‹3 and a lil spoiler -next chapter is pretty damn cool lol