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

34

'Andrea's outside!'

I couldn't bring myself to leave my lonely little cell. I couldn't care less about Andrea at the moment or why she was here at the prison. Daryl couldn't bring himself to even look at me, let alone speak to me after I tried to reconnect with him on the outskirts of the prison grounds. I felt empty and alone. Isn't the truth supposed to bring people closer? I kept telling myself over and over that Daryl just needed time to process what I'd told him. In time, he'll come back to me. In time, Erin. I heard rather than witnessed the group grilling Andrea about the Governor in the common area. I heard Andrea defending the Governor like a loyal minion. I heard Daryl threaten to take his other eye. Well. I was lying on my side on my thin mattress facing the wall when I heard Andrea's voice from the entrance of my cell.

'Erin?'

Maybe she thought I was asleep. I pretended I was.

'Michonne has pretty much convinced everyone here that the Governor is some kind of twisted person.' Her voice was vague and distant.

I'm almost sure she continued her rambling from my cell entrance but I didn't listen. Where was Daryl? Why wasn't he here with me? And where was Merle? No one seemed too concerned with the fact that he lay half-crippled in a pool of his blood in the courtyard earlier. I figured it was pretty much general knowledge that something was up between the Dixon brothers and I and that it wasn't something as petty or ridiculous as a love triangle. People talk when things are quiet. I'm also sure that Carol had pretty much guessed it first. She probably realised it was Merle who had roughed me up when I arrived at the Atlanta camp with a couple of impressive bruises. Andrea had gone from my cell by the time I flipped myself over. I found Rick sitting hunched on the floor against the wall. His one leg stretched out and the other bent up at the knee. His head was bowed and a shadow fell across his grim face. How long had I just been laying on my bed and staring at the wall?

Rick didn't seem to notice that I had stirred from my half-sleep. I folded my hands underneath my face and curled up into a ball on top of the old, musky blankets. I watched him breathe evenly. The silence between us lingered for some time. Judith started to cry in the background but Rick paid no attention to his daughter. I had nearly forgotten that Rick was in a very dark place because of all my current drama. Everyone else around the prison seemed to be caring for his daughter. I wondered when he would snap out of it and realise that he had a child to care for. Because I sure as hell wasn't going to.

'The Governor wants to meet with me. One on one, have a conversation, according to Andrea.' He finally spoke.

I watched him continue talking impassively. He seemed to be thinking out loud instead of conversing with me. I let him babble on. I could tell he was at crossroads on what to do about the Governor. He knew the guy was dangerous and a threat to our survival. He suddenly rose to his feet and walked over to my bed. He towered over me. I watched him once more without showing any sort of emotion. I kind of guessed he was waiting for me to open up or something about the wonderful revelation of telling the truth. I wouldn't. I refused. But then he said something else.

'I want you to come with, when I meet with this man. You're not that same woman I found dying on a hospital floor. You've got a firm head on your shoulders. Well, if I'm being honest, I need you right now.'

I took in what he said. Rick believed in me. He was involving me more into what I'd call the decisions that lead this group. I gave a curt nod. A long time ago, underneath the Atlanta summer sky, I promised Rick I'd stand by his side no matter what decision he comes to make. Except this time I wouldn't just stand – I'd fight alongside Rick Grimes.

Rick nodded in return and then a certain type of seriousness underlined with a tinge of sorrow flashed in his eyes. 'We'll deal with Merle soon enough.'

Rick left me to my misery after that short sentence. I really couldn't be bothered about what did or did not happen to Merle anymore. What I felt right now was absolute nothing. The only thing I wanted at the moment was for Daryl to take me in his arms again. I needed another dose of him, I craved it. And like a proper junkie, I felt miserable and lost without it.

But time heals all, Erin Leigh (or do you prefer Dixon again?), and Daryl will come back.

He has to.

He has to.

I must have drifted off again after Rick left my cell, because I awoke to the sounds of Judith's cries once more. I internally groaned. The constant reminder of my lost chance at motherhood never kept her mouth shut. I knew I was being aggressive and sour but I didn't care. I lay on my back, staring at the wiring on the bunk bed above me with Judith's panicked cries in the background. Her cries were the lullaby of my life, my background music. Another sound joined Judith's wails, but it was low and had a soothing rhythm. The low voice hummed in tune to what was probably a childhood lullaby and I closed my eyes, relishing the soothing nature of the voice. It was probably Beth, though her voice usually didn't drop that low. Judith, surprisingly, calmed down quite a bit. Her cries had reduced to a soft sniffle and she sounded like she'd nod off at any moment. I decided that I was too awake at the moment to go back to sleep, so I pushed myself off my bunk, thinking of going for a moonlit stroll on the prison grounds.

I paused at the doorway of my cell. Daryl held the now sleeping baby Judith in his arms. Shadows cast over his face and his eyes were on the child's forehead. My chest tightened and my heart beat faltered when I realised that the sniffles weren't coming from Judith. My Daryl, my husband, he was crying. If the moon would allow it, I'd have seen tears staining his face. If the moonlight wanted, I'd have seen watery blue eyes.

I stood frozen in my doorway watching the man I once shared my body and soul with shed tears with another man's baby in his arms. My own eyes started watering and my lip quivered.

God, I am so selfish.

The whole time I'd been thinking about myself since I'd confessed the truth –when would he come back to me, when would he realise I need him? But in reality, it was him who needed me. I had somehow broken the most broken man on earth even more when I told him that I had lost our child through his brother's actions. And when Daryl's lips gently touched the sleeping child's perfect forehead I realised that he needed someone to help him heal. His eyes finally lifted to mine and the shock was evident in them.

I leaned into the wall beside me, suddenly afraid of his reaction towards my spying. But even in the moonlight I could now see the evident, unwanted tears falling from the corners of his eyes. Even in the pale light I could see the pain in his face. I caused that. That was all me. And in that moment I knew that Daryl couldn't be my husband just yet.

So I walked forward and slowly extended my hand until my palm rested on his tear streaked cheek. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathed in deeply. This moment, with my palm on his cheek, reminded me of the night on the farm when the herd tore through. We had stood in this very position, only in reverse. Daryl had comforted me even though he was so conflicted about us. And now I did the same, except I was well aware about where our relationship was headed.

As I watched my former husband breathe in and out, relishing my touch with a child that wasn't his cradled in his arms, I knew that we were still in love but that we couldn't be together.

Not now, but sometime soon.

There was still too much internal and external conflict.

And that was okay.

Because I knew by the steady beat of my heart and the tears flowing down my cheeks that me and Daryl Dixon could make it.

Be it one day or one year from now, I swear to God, Daryl and I would be together again.

We just first had to heal together.

And that was just fine. 

//

lol hi sorry this took so long.