Zedler, M.D. // Daryl Dixon

Chapter Eighty-Two: Bubbles

•eighty-two•

Beatrix

After my talk with Deanna, she decided to assign me a job. Surprisingly to nobody, I was to work in the infirmary with Lucas and Pete, the community's current physician. I didn't know a lot about him, yet, though, but I'm definitely excited to meet him and go over the medicine.

When I came out of Deanna's house to send Baxly in, Daryl was waiting there to lead me to where our houses would be. Lined up perfectly, three in a row, sit three beautiful two story houses.

"Which one do we get to stay in?" I look up at him, my hand still clinging to his.

"That one," he points to the one on the right, the smallest of the three. Even though it was the smallest, it is definitely still huge, with two stories and a garage. "Might finally get that honeymoon after all."

"Wait, you mean we get that one to ourselves?" My eyes widen. "Like, just us?"

"Yeah, unless you want someone else to live there," he nervously scratches the back of his neck as he looks down at me. "I think they all felt bad for us so they gave us the house to ourselves."

"Oh my gosh, no! This is perfect!" I exclaim. "Before I get too excited, I need you to pinch me. Are we sure this is real?"

"Real as it can be, I guess," he shrugs and I throw my arms around him.

"This is so exciting! But what about everyone else? Do they have to stay in the other two houses?"

"For now, yeah. After we get settled in Rick says we get those two houses over there, too," he points to the other side of the street. "Or more if we need them. Said they have like twenty empty houses or something stupid like that."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Can we go in?" I suddenly feel like a kid waking up on Christmas morning, begging her parents to let her go see what Santa left the night before.

"Course," he mutters, following after me as I pull him up onto the porch and into the house.

"This is just like the house I was looking at buying in Atlanta," I gasp once I walk in. "After I accepted an attending position at Emory, obviously. It has the same floor plan and everything."

"You we're gonna buy a million dollar home?" He raises his eyebrow at me as he looks around the room. He must have already been in here to check for anything, because if he hadn't he'd be on much higher alert.

"Well, yeah. Daryl, do you even know how much money surgeons used to make?" I ask, pilfering through the drawers of the huge kitchen, smiling when I see that they're fully stocked. The pantry is, too.

"Do I look like I know how much surgeons used to make?" He crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame as he watches me.

"Touché," I say, going back to admiring the granite countertops, black cabinets, and black appliances. I don't think I could have build a better kitchen myself even if I wanted to. "I had one contract offer me eight hundred and fifty a year, for my first year. By the time I had a tenure it would have been over a million."

"Shit," he says, surprised at my life before. He always is. "You don't miss it?"

"Oh, I miss it every day," I frown as I walk forward to wrap my arms around his waist. "But I wouldn't go back if I could. The world now sucks, but if all of this hadn't happened, I'm not sure I would have met you. That's not something I'm willing to bargain with, either."

"You think if you met me in the real world you'd still marry me?" Daryl asks, looking at me, and I can just see the same, sad child that he used to be in his eyes. I never met him when he was that young, but I could only imagine he'd have the same look on his face as I'm getting right now.