Of Monsters and Men
three.
After four hours of clearing land of walkers and setting up their cans on string, the Dixon’s made their way into the cabin. It felt good to be surrounded by four walls and a roof. The cabin was always Emma and Daryl’s favorite place to be, so much so that they were planning on just living there for good and selling their trashy condo.
A sense of nostalgia washed over the family as they all moved their belongings into their bedrooms. Emma was following Daryl down the hall to the master bedroom when she passed the old game room. The futon was still pushed against the wall and beside it a rocking chair which Daryl had built. A thin layer of dust covered everything in the room. As she turned to leave, a small photo tacked to the wall opened a floodgate of repressed memories.
The brunette felt her throat become dry. It seemed as if all the oxygen in the room had disappeared. Despite how painful it was to be looking at that photo, Emma couldn’t find it in herself to look away. It taunted her. Her feet were glued in their place. The date in the top left corner April 28, 2010 was etched into her mind.
“I don’t see it..” Daryl squinted his eyes staring intently on the small photo his wife had dropped in his lap, “This little white blob?”
Emma nodded and took a seat beside him, “Yeah, that’s him.”
Daryl slid the photo into his shirt pocket and looked up at his wife, beaming. Her stomach protruded slightly beneath her husband’s beige tank top. In just a few short months, another Dixon boy would be born. Daryl reached out and placed a hand over her distended belly before leaving the room, most likely off to show Merle the sonogram photo.
Emma tucked a curl behind her ear and rubbed her back as she struggled to stand for a moment. Although she wasn’t too short, standing at 5’4 with an expanding bust and belly, moving around became a hassle for Emma. Seven months pregnant and the brunette had fully adopted the typical pregnancy waddle.
Later that evening, Emma found herself standing before the stove waiting for water to boil for spaghetti. She hummed to herself and subconsciously rubbed small circles over the same spot on her belly. There was a dull ache that had been agitating her all day.
As the water began to boil and the kettle for tea began to whistle, Emma felt her knees go weak as she called out for her husband, “Daryl... Daryl come quick.” She slowly lowered herself to the ground and began to panic at the sight of warm crimson blood pooling by her bottom.
Daryl ran in with a hammer in one hand and a pile of nails in the other. He had that irritated look on his face, the one he used when he was called away from the middle of a project. Just as he opened his mouth to make some snide remark about women and kitchens, he too noticed the blood and began to panic. He thrust his tools onto the kitchen table and knelt down to be eye level with his wife. “Darling, stay with me, alright? I’m going to carry you out to the car and we’ll go see the doctor.”
The memories were still fresh in Emma’s mind as she was finally able to tear herself away from the photo on the wall. That was the last time she had visited the cabin. Daryl had come up once without her, a few months later, and scrubbed the kitchen floor with Merle. He also promised to clear out the useless nursery, which he obviously had not. It was almost reassuring to see the crib and changing table; it meant Daryl still had hope for them despite his wife’s actions.
Two short quick knocks tore Emma’s attention away from the crib collecting dust and over to the doorway. Daryl stood there, his arms crossed and a frown etched into his face. “No reason for us to be in here.” He wrapped a calloused hand around her arm and pulled his wife out of the room.
The door shut with a click as Daryl guided Emma down the hall a bit further towards their bedroom. “Do you think the others will join us?” She asked in a soft voice.
Daryl shrugged and sat down beside her, “You wanna talk about it?”
Emma shook her head and shrugged off her flannel before walking toward the dresser. Sitting on top was a dusty photograph of the first date. There she was- a twenty year old scrawny kid trying to impress a guy with a motorcycle. Daryl’s arm was hanging over her shoulder like a boulder, a cigarette dangling from between his lips, his other hand flipping the bird. Emma had her arms wrapped around his middle, a small smile on her face and a look of admiration in her eyes. Ten years is a long time for a lot to happen.
“I’m going to go cook something up for you and Merle. I’ll let you boys rest up.”
Before Daryl had a chance to call her back, Emma had left the room and shut the door. The hunter shifted down to the edge of the bed and though back to all the memories the couple had in the cabin. He ran a dirty hand over his face and fell back, sighing at the feeling of the mattress enveloping his tired, aching, bones.
“Well look at you Darylina... getting ready for a date I hear. Why didn’t you tell ole Merle?”
Daryl shook his brother’s hand off his shoulder and grunted, “ ‘Cause it aint any of your business.”
Merle held up his hands in defense, “Just don’t go being soft on me now, baby brother. Don’t forget who’ll always bet there for you when that sweet thing realizes you’re just another piece of trailer trash.”
The younger Dixon just shook his head and grabbed the keys to the motorcycle. The feeling of engine roaring beneath him and the wind passing by cleared Daryl’s head of all the toxins his brother tried so hard to instill.
Emma bounced on the balls of her feet nervously as she stood by the bay window of her sister’s house. The brunette anxiously awaited the arrival of Daryl Dixon, a man she had just met earlier in the week. The sound of a rumbling motorcycle made the girl’s stomach to serious backflips.
“Cat... Cat, he’s here!”
Catherine, Emma’s older sister, bounded down the stairs with a camera in hand. At the sight of the device, Emma shook her head and let out a nervous laugh. Cat sighed and pouted, “Just one, please? You’ll look back on this photo and thank me.”
The two girls headed outside to greet Daryl. He killed the engine and hopped off. Emma smiled and gave a small wave to which he returned with a nod. As she got closer, more butterflies began to erupt in her belly.
“Okay you two, turn around! I just want one picture.” Cat called out.
Emma sent Daryl an apologetic smile before turning around and moving a bit closer to him. Her knees almost buckled under the weight of his muscular arm thrown over her shoulder. She shifted slightly beneath the weight and wrapped both arms around his toned midsection. Emma could feel him tense under her touch and looked up. His face was calm while his body told a different tale.
She took a minute to admire the man she met at the food market. It was at that very moment that Emma knew he was the one. However, little did she know, Daryl Dixon had the same thing in mind.
A sense of nostalgia washed over the family as they all moved their belongings into their bedrooms. Emma was following Daryl down the hall to the master bedroom when she passed the old game room. The futon was still pushed against the wall and beside it a rocking chair which Daryl had built. A thin layer of dust covered everything in the room. As she turned to leave, a small photo tacked to the wall opened a floodgate of repressed memories.
The brunette felt her throat become dry. It seemed as if all the oxygen in the room had disappeared. Despite how painful it was to be looking at that photo, Emma couldn’t find it in herself to look away. It taunted her. Her feet were glued in their place. The date in the top left corner April 28, 2010 was etched into her mind.
“I don’t see it..” Daryl squinted his eyes staring intently on the small photo his wife had dropped in his lap, “This little white blob?”
Emma nodded and took a seat beside him, “Yeah, that’s him.”
Daryl slid the photo into his shirt pocket and looked up at his wife, beaming. Her stomach protruded slightly beneath her husband’s beige tank top. In just a few short months, another Dixon boy would be born. Daryl reached out and placed a hand over her distended belly before leaving the room, most likely off to show Merle the sonogram photo.
Emma tucked a curl behind her ear and rubbed her back as she struggled to stand for a moment. Although she wasn’t too short, standing at 5’4 with an expanding bust and belly, moving around became a hassle for Emma. Seven months pregnant and the brunette had fully adopted the typical pregnancy waddle.
Later that evening, Emma found herself standing before the stove waiting for water to boil for spaghetti. She hummed to herself and subconsciously rubbed small circles over the same spot on her belly. There was a dull ache that had been agitating her all day.
As the water began to boil and the kettle for tea began to whistle, Emma felt her knees go weak as she called out for her husband, “Daryl... Daryl come quick.” She slowly lowered herself to the ground and began to panic at the sight of warm crimson blood pooling by her bottom.
Daryl ran in with a hammer in one hand and a pile of nails in the other. He had that irritated look on his face, the one he used when he was called away from the middle of a project. Just as he opened his mouth to make some snide remark about women and kitchens, he too noticed the blood and began to panic. He thrust his tools onto the kitchen table and knelt down to be eye level with his wife. “Darling, stay with me, alright? I’m going to carry you out to the car and we’ll go see the doctor.”
The memories were still fresh in Emma’s mind as she was finally able to tear herself away from the photo on the wall. That was the last time she had visited the cabin. Daryl had come up once without her, a few months later, and scrubbed the kitchen floor with Merle. He also promised to clear out the useless nursery, which he obviously had not. It was almost reassuring to see the crib and changing table; it meant Daryl still had hope for them despite his wife’s actions.
Two short quick knocks tore Emma’s attention away from the crib collecting dust and over to the doorway. Daryl stood there, his arms crossed and a frown etched into his face. “No reason for us to be in here.” He wrapped a calloused hand around her arm and pulled his wife out of the room.
The door shut with a click as Daryl guided Emma down the hall a bit further towards their bedroom. “Do you think the others will join us?” She asked in a soft voice.
Daryl shrugged and sat down beside her, “You wanna talk about it?”
Emma shook her head and shrugged off her flannel before walking toward the dresser. Sitting on top was a dusty photograph of the first date. There she was- a twenty year old scrawny kid trying to impress a guy with a motorcycle. Daryl’s arm was hanging over her shoulder like a boulder, a cigarette dangling from between his lips, his other hand flipping the bird. Emma had her arms wrapped around his middle, a small smile on her face and a look of admiration in her eyes. Ten years is a long time for a lot to happen.
“I’m going to go cook something up for you and Merle. I’ll let you boys rest up.”
Before Daryl had a chance to call her back, Emma had left the room and shut the door. The hunter shifted down to the edge of the bed and though back to all the memories the couple had in the cabin. He ran a dirty hand over his face and fell back, sighing at the feeling of the mattress enveloping his tired, aching, bones.
“Well look at you Darylina... getting ready for a date I hear. Why didn’t you tell ole Merle?”
Daryl shook his brother’s hand off his shoulder and grunted, “ ‘Cause it aint any of your business.”
Merle held up his hands in defense, “Just don’t go being soft on me now, baby brother. Don’t forget who’ll always bet there for you when that sweet thing realizes you’re just another piece of trailer trash.”
The younger Dixon just shook his head and grabbed the keys to the motorcycle. The feeling of engine roaring beneath him and the wind passing by cleared Daryl’s head of all the toxins his brother tried so hard to instill.
Emma bounced on the balls of her feet nervously as she stood by the bay window of her sister’s house. The brunette anxiously awaited the arrival of Daryl Dixon, a man she had just met earlier in the week. The sound of a rumbling motorcycle made the girl’s stomach to serious backflips.
“Cat... Cat, he’s here!”
Catherine, Emma’s older sister, bounded down the stairs with a camera in hand. At the sight of the device, Emma shook her head and let out a nervous laugh. Cat sighed and pouted, “Just one, please? You’ll look back on this photo and thank me.”
The two girls headed outside to greet Daryl. He killed the engine and hopped off. Emma smiled and gave a small wave to which he returned with a nod. As she got closer, more butterflies began to erupt in her belly.
“Okay you two, turn around! I just want one picture.” Cat called out.
Emma sent Daryl an apologetic smile before turning around and moving a bit closer to him. Her knees almost buckled under the weight of his muscular arm thrown over her shoulder. She shifted slightly beneath the weight and wrapped both arms around his toned midsection. Emma could feel him tense under her touch and looked up. His face was calm while his body told a different tale.
She took a minute to admire the man she met at the food market. It was at that very moment that Emma knew he was the one. However, little did she know, Daryl Dixon had the same thing in mind.