So, as promised, here's the next installment of my ongoing gleggie story, "This Fire Won't Go Out." You don't HAVE to have read the first story in the verse, but it will make things a bit clearer, probably. Also, if you're buckling down to read a nearly 4,000 word story about gleggie, I'd think you'd also be interested in an 11,000 word one as well!
So this installment of the "Fire" verse is from Glenn's POV and is going to span the whole of season six. This chapter barely spans the first episode of season six, so this'll be a long story, guys. I wanted to get something out now because I know it's been a while, and I'm hoping the rest of this installment will be up soon, now that my semester's over!
Have patience with this chapter, it's a lot of waiting and thinking for Glenn, but that's okay, because the action will start very soon.
Glenn woke up the morning after Maggie told him she was pregnant to a troubling realization.
She wasn't there.
Glenn could sense her absence without opening his eyes, and when he did all he saw were crumpled sheets and an indent in her pillow. His arms were sprawled uselessly across the empty bed in a way that made him guess they hadn't moved since she'd untangled herself from them.
Calmly, he got out of bed to investigate, trying not to be one of those husbands who couldn't be away from his wife for longer than a minute without panicking.
But he couldn't help himself: Maggie getting up before him was weird.
Out of the hundreds of mornings Glenn had woken up next to his wife, he could count on one hand the number of times she'd woken up first. Maggie had confessed one time that she never really left that stage all teenagers went through when they slept for 12 hours straight. Her dad had always hated it, and it especially wasn't practical after the epidemic started which was why, when they were living at the farm, Beth used to have to bang on their connecting wall to wake Maggie up at an appropriate hour.
She'd gotten better after the farm burned down, mainly because their sleeping arrangements got way less private. Even when they lived in the prison, everyone could still hear any and all noise being made early in the morning, leading to Maggie's body getting used to waking up before noon. Still though, she never woke up before Glenn, who had never been able to sleep once it got light outside. But he liked it that way. He always loved having that extra time alone with Maggie; it didn't really matter that she was asleep for it. Thanks to their different sleeping habits, he always got to cuddle lazily with her for a while before either staying put and waiting for to wake up or getting up and making their breakfast.
(His favorite was actually a third option that involved him waking her up in what she called the only acceptable way, but that was furthest from his mind on that particular morning.)
Truthfully, if it was any other morning, his wife getting up before him wouldn't worry him quite as much. He might've even shrugged and gone back to sleep, savoring the big empty bed for a little while longer. Okay, maybe not that far – Glenn doubted he'd be able to sleep without the comfort of Maggie's body against his. But that morning was different: Maggie had only just told him she was pregnant the night before, after he told her about what really happened earlier with Nicholas in the woods. They'd only talked about the pregnancy and everything that it meant a little bit before she fell asleep and he just wanted to find her and make sure she was alright.
If the pregnancy made his head spin, he couldn't imagine how she was feeling. And so, instead of taking his time waking up, Glenn immediately got out of bed.
He walked out of their bedroom, picking up a shirt and pulling it over his head on the way to the bathroom. He figured that was where she was, still hoping that she had only just woken up and maybe was already on her way back to him.
Then, the thought occurred to him that she was pregnant, and it was morning, and pregnant women get morning sickness. (Another good part of him usually waking up first was that it gave him the chance to remember how to function before being expected to.) When she had told him last night, he'd remembered a strange morning about a week before, when she'd woken up sick. At the time, she'd convinced him that it was nothing, but now he knew the real reason.
Worried that she was going through the same thing this morning – and more troubled by the idea that she hadn't woken him up to help her – he quickened his pace before pausing in the hallway outside the bathroom they shared with the rest of their house. Putting his ear up against the door, Glenn waited for some sign that his suspicions were right and didn't realize until it was too late that what he was doing was really, really, weird. The door to the bathroom opened and someone who definitely wasn't Maggie walked right into him.
Understandably baffled, Daryl asked, "Glenn? Man, what the hell are you doing?"
Not knowing what – if anything – would help dig him out of the situation, Glenn futilely defended himself, "I thought you were Maggie," before realizing that listening to his wife in the bathroom really didn't sound any less weird than listening to a friend.
And Daryl clearly felt the same way, from the incredulous look he gave him. Glenn knew he was waiting for a better explanation, but he was stuck. Telling him the truth – that he was listening for some sign his wife had morning sickness – definitely wasn't an option. He was never good at coming up with lies (though he would be surprised if anyone could come up with a convincing lie to make him look normal at that moment) so he just shrugged and abandoned Daryl – and probably his reputation as a normal guy – in the middle of the hallway, resuming his search for his wife.
He could feel Daryl's eyes on him as he walked away, but he couldn't help it; he didn't know what to say and he needed to find Maggie. He was frazzled, but that was how he normally got when she wasn't around. Usually he was able to tame the urge to turn the world over looking for her, but finding out about the pregnancy just made everything…different somehow.
"Babe? Maggie?" He called out as he walked past Rosita on his way downstairs, who said with a smirk, "I swear to God you two spend half your time looking for each other. I should just get you one of those tracking chips my dog used to have."
When he just kept walking, unamused, Rosita called after him, "She's in the kitchen, idiot."
Glenn turned back and shot her a grateful look, then he let out a deep breath as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. Maggie wasn't missing, or sick, she was in the kitchen.
Sleeping habits and unplanned pregnancies aside, things were almost normal.
He just couldn't let her know about the "almost." He couldn't be acting weird around Maggie, not after she told him she was pregnant. She had confessed that part of the reason she'd waited so long to tell him was for fear of how he'd react. Not that she thought he'd be upset or angry – Maggie wasn't stupid or paranoid, he'd never be like that – but that it would worry him, or stress him out. For his part, Glenn knew she had a point. He'd been a mess with worry during their first pregnancy scare, but this time was different. They had no reason to be scared, but even if they did, tough luck. There was no turning back now.
He saw that Maggie was by the stove, chatting with Michonne as she stirred something. He couldn't help but be disappointed that she wasn't alone. He was anxious to talk more about things, and now it would have to wait. His eyes had gravitated naturally to Maggie, but he soon saw that others were in the room too: Eugene and Abraham were eating at the breakfast bar, and a bunch of the others were gathered around the kitchen table.
More confused than anything else, he wondered why Maggie chose that morning to be up and about. If she'd just woke him up, they could've had the chance to talk more, before being around everyone else. Now that the day was in full swing, he doubted they'd be alone again until nighttime. He tried to tell himself that was fine, it wasn't like what he wanted to talk about couldn't wait until then. He hadn't even known about the pregnancy until a few hours ago, waiting another day to make plans wouldn't hurt anything.
She was facing the stove and so she didn't notice him when he came in, and when he went up and tapped her on the shoulder she startled. Seeing it was him, she relaxed immediately, but Glenn was concerned at how on edge she was.
Michonne teased her, "Looks like you forgot something upstairs," nodding at Glenn.
Laughing at her jumpiness, Maggie said unnecessarily, "Sorry. You caught me by surprise."
Glenn raised his eyebrows, saying "Clearly. You didn't hear me calling for you?"
"You were?" He nodded, then looked questioningly at the strange, watery substance that she was stirring.
"Oh. It's cream of wheat," she explained, "Michonne found some in the pantry, I thought it might be nice with some brown sugar. Annette made it for me like that after I got my wisdom teeth pulled."
He smiled like he always did when Maggie brought up her family. Then he chuckled to himself and asked her, "Does anyone actually eat cream of wheat who didn't just get their teeth pulled?"
Michonne threw in, "I think just old people and babies."
He didn't miss how Maggie's face tightened at the mention of babies, and he was sure he had a similar reaction. He looked down only to see where it read on the side of the cereal box: "INFANT AND TODDLER USE: Cream of Wheat makes a delicious food for infants age 6-12 months or toddlers. Discuss introduction of solid foods and the use of formula or milk in its preparation with your pediatrician…"
He got the strangest feeling, deep in his stomach.
He hadn't felt like that since that time he took Maggie's place on a run at the shopping mall, the afternoon Zach died. He'd thought Maggie was pregnant then too, even though it had turned out to be just a scare that time. All week he had been stressing out over it – pretty much like he was now – unable to stop thinking of all the things that could go wrong. But while he was walking around the store, he had seen a photo album, the kind parents used to keep pictures of their kids in, and it caused him to have the briefest moment of desperate longing for a baby. Him, Maggie, and a baby. How scary could it possibly be?
And now, just like then, he found himself picturing a scene in this very kitchen where, instead of coming downstairs alone, he was holding a baby or toddler. He'd put his son or daughter in a highchair after kissing Maggie's cheek, help put breakfast together after taking crap from his wife for oversleeping, and then they could feed their baby the exact food they were about to eat now. Although – the cereal box said they should talk to a pediatrician about giving their baby solid foods, what if they couldn't find a doctor? There probably weren't even any left in the world, definitely none that specialized in babies and little kids. What if something went wrong and they didn't know what to do?
Glenn tried to get his head on straight. He was in the kitchen with his wife; she was fine; they were having a baby in eight months. Eight months was a long time. Just two months ago he never would've imagined finding a place like Alexandria, despite his hopeful rhetoric at the time; imagine what they could make happen in eight.
Glenn snapped out of his reverie when Michonne, seeming to have noticed the tension, said something about setting the table and walked away, leaving Glenn and Maggie in near privacy.
He was so deep in thought that he barely noticed they were almost alone. He finally had his chance to talk to her, but he realized he didn't know what to say.
Looking up from her stirring, Maggie remarked, "You're quiet." Not for the first time in the past few weeks, Glenn noticed the bags under her usually bright eyes; the color missing from her cheeks; her defeated posture. All this time he'd thought it was grief or exhaustion, and it could be partly that, but the thought that part of it might be because of the pregnancy – and that she hadn't said anything – worried him.
She should never have had to carry something like that on her own, not even for a moment.
Knowing that he was sacrificing his chance to say what was on his mind, he leaned over and pecked her lips quickly, mindful of his morning-breath. She scrunched up her face like she could smell his breath anyway, but he just responded by kissing her again. Talking could wait, he wanted, no, needed to cheer her up. And anyways, the food was almost ready.
He pulled back to see a smile spreading across her face, satisfied, he leaned against the counter beside Maggie before saying, "You woke up before me this morning. I was shocked beyond belief." He thought he did a good job not giving away how genuinely worried he'd been for a moment there.
She played along, asking, "Oh you were, were you?"
He nodded, faking sincerity, "I thought I might've dreamed you."
"You're really somethin' else, you know that?" She said, laughing. Then Maggie took the spatula and bopped him on the nose with it, getting his face messy with cream of wheat. Glenn took her up on the challenge, reaching into a bowl to get some on her forehead.
As she tried to dodge him in their tiny kitchen, using the messy spatula as a sword, Daryl finally came downstairs, shouting out, "Maggie, your husband is a fucking weirdo." Then, seeing what the two of them were up to, he amended, "You are too."
That interlude of happiness was just that, but he knew at the time that it was only temporary. Goofy banter and food fights could only last so long in their world, but that was somehow alright with him. He'd long ago made peace with the fact that the challenges in their marriage wouldn't look anything like his parents' fights over bills and PTA meetings.
In a way, he thought he was lucky: he and Maggie fought big battles but they faced them together, as a team. He'd choose a big fight with her by his side over a smaller one against her every fucking time.
Then again, he had no way of knowing what kinds of fights were on their horizon.
As it turned out, Glenn's earlier intuition was right: he and Maggie didn't get another moment alone together for the rest of the day. And although he didn't regret putting off a conversation about the pregnancy that morning, he still wished he could get a second or two to check on how she was doing without a hundred pairs of eyes on them. If it wasn't the residents of Alexandria, who always seemed to be watching them like they couldn't quite figure out the logic of their relationship, they were around their family, and Glenn had no intention of letting them even guess that Maggie might be pregnant. No, not without talking more with her first, which, funnily enough, he couldn't do around so many people.
Any hopes he had of stealing a few minutes with her during the day were dashed when Rick convened a meeting in Deanna's house, and broke the news to all of them about a walker crisis close to Alexandria.
He found he wasn't able to visualize the problem and, truthfully, he didn't try to as hard as he would have if it had been any other day. Rick only vaguely described what the plan of attack would be before he asked for volunteers, but Glenn quickly put his trust in him and agreed to be part of it. Whatever Rick was planning, he and the rest of their group would make it work somehow, and make Alexandria a safe place again.
His mind never wandered far from what Maggie told him last night, and exactly why it was so urgent to make sure this home would stick for them. He thought back to the long, awful months on the road while Lori was pregnant, though it was bad for his sanity to dwell too long on thoughts of Lori. He had to make sure things turned out differently this time, and Alexandria was a vital part of that.
Later that day, Glenn and Maggie ate dinner with the others but their corner of the table offered enough privacy for him to feel safe enough to ask her quietly, "Are you sure you're okay staying behind tomorrow?"
She replied, "What would you say if I wasn't?" her voice careful.
Her question threw him; he'd thought they were on the same page, did she think – "Don't worry," she said quickly, reading his mind. "I am, I agree, it's the smart thing to do. But if I did want to go, what would you say?"
"It wouldn't matter what I said. It's your call, if you wanted to go, you could. I mean, sure, it puts my mind at ease, the thought of you being safe back here, especially since you're -" he looked around the table and realized it wasn't private enough, "- well, you know. But I also really miss having you on runs with me."
"I know," she said. And he knew she did; they'd talked about her new role shortly after she got it, and what it meant for them to spend so much of their days apart when they were used to being together all the time. It wasn't actually that different from life at the prison, when there was so much to do that they often found themselves tackling different projects most days. But after being separated when the prison fell, they'd clung to each other in the weeks after, reluctant to part for even a few hours. Committing to different jobs at Alexandria was an adjustment, they agreed, but a worthwhile one: Glenn wanted to keep going on runs, and if Maggie could find a way to make their group have influence in the running of the community, they had to make use of the opportunity.
Still, though, having her on runs with him had always been good for a lot reasons. Glenn whined, "Seriously, who's going to save my ass out there when I need it?"
"Babe, no one's gonna need to. The only time you get in trouble out there is when you're too distracted staring at my ass."
They spent the rest of the night hanging around in the living room with the others, tucked close together on one of the couches. It wasn't like he didn't know he needed to take her somewhere private to talk about what she told him last night, because he did. It was just that with every passing hour, he started losing his nerve. Glenn knew that finding out about the walkers so close to Alexandria (God, they were so fucking close, how could they have lived here all these weeks and not suspected something)made him even more nervous about the pregnancy than he was last night.
It didn't help that he could feel the tension in Maggie's shoulders where his arm was draped across them. She was just as quiet as he was, had been almost all day, and he knew the longer they were around the others, the more likely it was that somebody would notice. That was what finally convinced him to go upstairs, fear that somebody would ask either of them a question that they really couldn't answer yet.
He turned his head to catch her eye, wordlessly asking if she wanted to go up; she agreed and they were off, both muttering soft goodnight's to the others as they left. One of the benefits of their status as one of the only couples in their group was that no one questioned their hasty and unexplained departure.
When they got upstairs, they went about what was quickly becoming their bedtime routine: Glenn brushed his teeth and used the bathroom while she changed in the bedroom, then they switched. Glenn made it into bed first, and then Maggie joined him, turning off the light when she finished. He smiled when he noticed her pajamas, a pair of underwear and one of his t-shirts. Noticing his gaze, Maggie asked, "Like what you see?" and gave him a wink.
Unembarrassed, Glenn retorted, "One of these days I'm gonna steal one of your tank tops to sleep in and then we'll see who's laughing."
"Nah, I think it'll still be me."
Picturing the image himself now, he chuckled and nodded his head, "Yeah. You're probably right," he said softly. Their smiles faded as the moment ended.
Knowing that it was now or never, he finally asked the question he'd been dying to all day, "You ready to talk about it now?"
She sucked in a breath, lying down on the bed with her hands folded over her abdomen. She was steeling herself, he realized. For what, he could only guess. Was she really that worried about the pregnancy? Or did she think he was…angry with her, for god knew what reason? He cringed at that idea, but wasn't sure how to ask what was bothering her. Glenn cautiously moved closer to her on the bed, finally lying down on his side, facing her. He propped his head up so that he could see her eyes and noticed that they were wet, and staring straight up at the ceiling.
She said softly, "Sorry. I'm – I'm not that upset, really. I'm tired and I've been crying real easily lately. But yeah…I'm ready to talk about it."
Quickly, he said, "No, babe, I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it, not before you're ready. I – I'm sorry if I was being pushy last night."
She smiled at him then, eyes twinkling, "Glenn, you don't have a pushy bone in your whole body. No, last night you were perfect. I mean, I'm still nervous, even more so now that we know about all them walkers down the road. And if the hormones are this bad for the whole pregnancy, well, you've got your work cut out for you, honey. But I just – I gotta say," and she took a breath, wiping out tears that were still going, "I'm really, reallyhappy that I'm doin' this with you."
He gave in then, reaching out for her and pulling her close, crushing his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply once, then a few more times in quick succession, pausing only to whisper, "Me too, me too."
He didn't move away from her when they broke apart, choosing to rest his head on her shoulder instead. He kissed the skin there too, breathing her in, committing this moment to memory.
The first moment since she told him that he thought everything might be okay.
Thanks so much for reading. Now more than ever I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and what you'd like to see in the rest of the story. I love feedback of any kind, so fire away either here in the comments or at rosy-doze dot tumblr dot com