This is Tarenn. It's not AU because it's not a romantic piece. This instead focuses on Glenn's grief about losing Noah and some conflicting feelings he doesn't quite understand.
Written as the missing scene between Glenn and Nicholas's confrontation at the back of the van and the conflict between Rick and Pete in the middle of town. Foreshadowing to Carol's interaction with Pete in the season finale
AN: To the guest who left me an extremely insightful review telling me that 'Lesbians don't flip switches. They are or they aren't and don't do them a disservice by writing them that way' I thank you for your commentary. I also applaud your reading comprehension as Tara is in a COMA for the entirety of this one shot and therefore her feelings are unknown to the reader in this piece. You must have some wonderful skills to be able to grasp her perspective of the events in this while she's unconscious. You're amazing. You should sign in and leave me a review so that you can share your brilliant insights with me. I'd love to be able to get in the heads of my character's as well as you do ;)
This is written from Glenn's perspective. Glenn. The straight male. Not a lesbian.
To the rest of you? Enjoy.
He paced outside the door of the tiny office that at one point had been converted into a surgery. His hands were woven into his hair, tugging, yanking at his scalp, wanting, needing to feel something, anything.
He wanted to go in.
Couldn't.
He had done this.
He had been responsible for her out there. He had been in charge. He had been the one they had looked too to keep them safe.
He had failed them all.
Especially her.
He was the one who had brought her into the fold. Selfishly, at first. He had seen her there, at the prison, in that cage. He had been so shaken, so rocked by the discovery that he was the only one left that he had forced her to come with him. He hadn't wanted to be alone. He had wanted Maggie. Herschel. Carol. But there had been no one.
Until there was her.
She had saved him.
Then in the tunnel, he had saved her.
A bond had been formed.
At first, they had been nothing but friends. When they had found Sasha, Maggie, Bob… When Abraham, Rosita, Eugene had followed them to Terminus… When they had been captured and forced to fight for their lives… That was all they had been. Friends.
He had Maggie. They were back together. Tara slipped to the wayside, a little more than another face in their little ragtag collective. She was always there, in the background. Watching. Listening. Learning.
When they found the church, when they made to move to Washington, that was all they were. Friends.
On the road he had been reminded of her unique spirit. Amused by her antics. Proud of her development.
When they went to Atlanta and brought Carol home, along with Beth… They had still been exactly that. Friends.
When they made it to Alexandria? Something changed. Something shifted, something… They weren't just friends, anymore. They were family.
He loved her. He loved her in a way that he couldn't even begin to describe. It wasn't platonic. That much he knew. It wasn't familial. It wasn't in the way that a brother loves his sister. It was nothing like that. It wasn't in the same vein that he loved his wife. It seemed more… complicated. More complex than that. He had agonised over it. Hadn't known what the hell to do with himself. Hell, he still didn't know…
They had both been assigned to run detail. Scavenging. She had been ecstatic. A chance to get outside of the gates, a chance to contribute. Time spent with Noah. Spent with him.
The first few times they had gone out, things had been a breeze. They worked well together. Words weren't necessary. A look, a nod, a narrowing of the eyes. He had her back. She had his. After the loss of Beth, Maggie… She hadn't been the same. None of them had, but Maggie… She had taken it harder than any of them and understandably so. Maggie had allowed herself to be absolutely consumed by her grief.
He hadn't understood how that had felt until now.
He knew she was capable of looking after herself. She had proven herself, time and time again. She wasn't the strongest person in their group, not by a long shot but she knew what it was like out there. She knew what was necessary to survive.
The fact that those with them didn't? It had been their undoing.
He hadn't seen the grenade until it was too late.
Everything after that was a blur. She was bleeding, there was screaming, they had lost… He had lost Noah. Aidan too.
He had almost lost her.
The drive back to Alexandria flew by.
Screams. His, this time.
"Help! I need help!"
Running. People running toward them. Crying. Tears. Lots of tears.
Questions.
How? Why?
He had grabbed for her as they had carried her inside. Arms had held him back, clumsy, sweaty hands, clutching at his shoulders.
He had fought. Fallen. Sobbed to himself at the indignity and the unfairness of it all.
Maggie had come to him, held him, told him it was okay. But it wasn't. It wasn't okay. Aidan was dead. Noah was dead. She was as close to it as she could be while still breathing.
Night came.
More questions. Fewer answers.
Morning arrived.
She was stable.
Stable.
And for the first time in hours, he felt like he could breathe again.
Gasping for air, barely scraping the surface of the despair that weighed upon his heart he had snapped.
Run down the stairs. Across the safe zone. To the door of the office cum surgery.
And there he stood. Unable to bring himself to knock, to go inside.
He closed his eyes, clenching them shut as the memory of the screams returned, echoing through his head like a bullet train screeching to a halt. His screams, their screams, intermingling in his mind unbidden, unchecked and unchallenged. He couldn't keep them out. He didn't want too, the agony forcing it's way inside his brain and down his throat, crawling, tearing, ripping.
"Glenn?"
And then the screaming stopped.
Eyes wild he turned to face the speaker, grimace etched on his pale face.
"She's still unconscious." Carol announced curtly, scanning the hallway. Her voice softened, her eyes kind as she realised they were alone. "She asked for you. In her sleep-"
He pushed past her in a flurry of movement, storming into the room to find her much the same as he had last seen her. Grey skin. Hair matted with blood. Face peaceful, in her comatose state. Falling to his knees he collapsed beside her, partly with despair, partly with relief.
She was alive. She was in front of him, she was breathing, she was bent she was broken but she was alive.
The door closed behind him with a click yet he took no notice. His focus was solely facing forward, strictly upon her. Her chest rose and fell in time with the pounding of his heart, the only sign he had that she was still with him, that he was still here with her.
A strange compulsion to embrace her overwhelmed him and he fought it, desperately, not wanting to hurt her further. There were no visible blemishes beyond the sutured wound on her skull, her hair shaved in segments around the wound site. The sickly sting of bile made its way back into his mouth and he vehemently choked it back, forcing it down until his gut churned and it reappeared, throwing up what little he had been coerced into lining his stomach with, dry retching until there was nothing left.
The acidic smell burned his nostrils and the woman on the bed shifted, body instinctively reacting to the mess on the floor. His head shot up at the infinitesimal movement spotted out of the corner of his eye. His hand shot out to grab her arm, fingers trembling as he stopped himself at the last moment, ghosting a careful caress through the air above her prone form, willing her back to them, to him.
"Tara," he choked, throat on fire with the burn of reflux. "You gotta… You gotta wake up. We need… I need…"
He shook his head, thoroughly disgusted with himself for acting this way. He had a wife. He was a husband.
But this… This wasn't just anyone lying on that bed.
This was his one chance at salvation. At absolution, for all he had redemption.
This was Tara.
He couldn't save Aidan. Nor Noah. Not Beth, not Herschel, not Zack. But he could save her.
"You have…" A pathetic whimper rang out and he was shocked to realise it was him making those noises. "You gotta wake up."
"Please…"
A thousand different thoughts ran rampant as it occurred to him that for all their time together, he had never told her.
The way she smiled. The way it lit up a room.
The way she stared danger in the face, fear hidden behind false bravado to do her part. She wasn't a soldier. But she always tried.
The way she never once chastised him for the way he had treated her. Often, almost like a stranger. Sometimes worse.
He had seen dark times. He tried, still, to see the best in people. He was on the few that did. Her humanity? Her infallible belief that there were still good people out there? Her willingness to give the human race a chance, even after what she knew, all she had seen? Her humanity put his to shame. She embraced life with such fervour that he it made him want to weep.
They couldn't afford to lose anyone. Somehow, that fact became amplified, just because it was her. The magnitude of this loss felt like it could be so much more important. So much more meaningful... Even if his head and his heart couldn't reconcile why, he knew that should something happen to her?
He would irrevocably changed... For as long as his forever might be.
"Tara..."
His voice sounded foreign even to his ears. Strangled, tight with fear and undisclosed rage.
"I did this... It's my fault... I failed you. Aidan. Noah. All of you.
You gotta come back.
I know..." Tears started to spill over then, cascading down his cheeks and on to the hand he had given in to holding. Wet tracks splotched parched skin, slippery and sweet rivers of sorrow. "I've never... I've never done entirely right by you. I wanted too. Still want too. Don't know what that means but... I know you can't let go. Not yet. So many things left unsaid... I swear, I swear to you, this time? This time it will be different. Gonna make sure it is. Gonna be there for you like I should've always been. You and me... You're gonna tell me everything I missed. Everything you're thinking, everything I should've asked and didn't."
Her lips parted ever so slightly. Her finger twitched.
"We're gonna make it. All of us. Here, somewhere else. We're going to make it," he repeated quietly, trying to make himself believe his own truth. The trembling in his voice mirrored the shaking of his fingers, wound now through hers, hanging on like a vice. "But you gotta wake up."
Raised voices could be heard from outside as he rubbed at his face with the back of his hand, vision blurry from a combination of wet confusion and heartache. The door flew open and Carol slipped back in, striding across the room to grab him by the scruff of his shirt.
"We have to go. Pete, Rick, in the courtyard. You need to come. Now, Glenn."
Her voice was even, exuding a quiet calm as she hauled him to his feet. Not responding, he glanced back at the bed with abject longing. He didn't want to leave her. He needed to know she was going to be okay. Had to be here when she woke up.
The voices became heated, the sound of bone hitting bone assaulting his senses. Carol's grip became urgent, forcibly turning him and pushing him toward the door. He lingered, blocking her path.
"She's going to be okay."
"How do you... No one has checked on her. No one is looking after her. Just you. Why not Pete? Why is he not here? She has to make it," his words wobbled, legs threatening to give away beneath him. "She has too."
"She will. Pete will be here," she informed him, steadying him with her hand. "If I have to force him here myself at knife point, he'll be here. Glenn. We need to go."
Her tone left no room for arguments as he stepped back toward the bed, hesitating. "One minute. Just give me a minute."
It happened so fast.
If he hadn't been the one to do it, he wouldn't have believed his own actions himself. He bent at the waist, tenderly brushing her hair back as his chapped lips caressed her forehead. They lingered a beat too long, Carol discretely looking the other way as he silently promised Tara that he would be back, and soon. He lifted his hand to her cheek, rubbing at a smudge of dirt that coloured her otherwise pale skin.
"I'll keep her safe."
Carol's words harkened to him as he stepped back and out of the room, grateful for her kindness. There was yelling as he broke through the doors and outside, that cretin Nicholas appearing right beside him.
His appearance brought all of his muddled feelings rushing back and he pushed them to the side, telling himself that everything he had told Tara was true.
Things would be different, this time.
He would be different.
They would make it.
She would make it.
She just had to wake up.