Well hello there ladies and gentlemen, my wonderful readers and reviewers. So I know I am gratutiously late with an update to my multi-chapter story Wolfsong (I'm working on it, I promise!) but I did find a moment to write this little one-shot. I have always adored the Glenn/Maggie pairing (probably my OTP of the canon show) and I finally had a moment to write something for the two of them. I'm going to leave this as an incomplete at the moment, because I may add to it from Glenn's POV depending on the response that I get. I hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think with your lovely reviews. Oh, and I apologize in advance for any typos or things of that nature, it's late, I haven't had much sleep, and I only had a chance to read through once for a fast edit.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead and I'm not making any money off this fic. I just like to play with the characters, I'll put them back on their pedestals when I'm finished.

It wasn't like I thought much of Glenn when I first saw him. He was skittish as nervous Nelly, but he had such sweet eyes, just like a lamb without its mother, it made me pause and take a second look. There was something in me that made me want to pick him up and croon and knock his hat off and stroke his hair. Maybe it was that look that he fixed me with when I came out on the porch that first night. That look that whispered of so much fear that he was doing his best to smother and failing at so miserably. I caught him trying to pray which I had to stifle my laughter about. Praying came so easy to me, what with Daddy insisting us girls be in church every Sunday ever since we were born more or less. Ever since the Walkers took everything over I wasn't all that shy on saying my faith was shaken. I just couldn't understand how God could let something like that happen; He let those things rip my family apart, destroy the entire earth and bring with them so much pain and devastation. Yet when I saw Glenn it was almost like my faith was renewed, just a little, just like poking some coals with a stick, sending up a shower of sparks and sending heat and light bursting into the darkness. I think that was why I threw caution to the winds and slept with him that first supply run. I went away to school and even then I'd been relatively chaste, not nearly as much as my father would have liked me to be obviously, but I was definitely no slut. And truth be told I felt a little bit like a whore sleeping with Glenn when I barely knew him, especially when I hadn't planned on sleeping with him ever again after that. But I think it was all of those sparks I saw in him that convinced me to do it. I was all but frozen inside and when I touched him he made heat burn through me. For the first time in what felt like all of eternity I felt alive.

That first time was quick and sloppy, a rough clutch of teeth and tongue, push and pull, both of us so unfamiliar with the other that we could have just as easily been two cats fighting as two humans making love. We scratched and clawed, slipping and tugging roughly on the other, so ungraceful and hasty with our movements. Glenn's inexperience was obvious and I am slightly ashamed to say I didn't go easy on him about it, but at the same time it was exactly what I needed. There was nothing false or fake or misleading about it. I think that was the first thing I loved about him. Glenn had nothing to hide, no secrets or guiles or anything that would come spilling out of the closet. He was honest to a fault, and more than once I wanted to slap him so hard he'd see the last day before the outbreak in the whiplash for it, but at the same time it made me feel safe. I never had to question, I never had to wonder. I forgave myself a long time ago for stringing him along, for teasing him and playing hard to get. I had just lost everything, I was shaking inside every morning when I woke, trying so hard to make sure no one could see it on the outside. I had to be strong. I was the one holding everything together. I had to make sure Daddy got through the day, that Beth was safe, that there was food on the table, that the doors were locked up tight, and plenty enough times I stood watch with the shotgun, making sure that none of those things got close. They never came on the farm, but if I couldn't sleep, on the porch with the gun was just as good as my room. I didn't exactly have the mental or emotional energy to throw around at a boy I barely knew and didn't know if he'd be sticking around anyway.

I was thinking about all of that on one of the many nameless, sweat-slicked nights in the prison. The air was so warm and slow moving that it was stifling, I almost felt like I was being suffocated. You'd think after more than a year without AC in the Georgia climate I'd be used to it, but I was still bothered by the smothering temperature. Rick had already asked me if I would relieve Daryl from the early shift on watch to which I had agreed. It was often in those deep hours of the night that I couldn't sleep, woken by my ever present nightmares that I was convinced would never really fade. So it wasn't that much trouble to keep watch until dawn. I slipped out of the cell block and came up on the cat walk between the two guard towers where Daryl was pacing slowly back and forth, his crossbow ever present across his back. Even before I'd completely come around the corner he'd spun on his heel at the sound of my presence and was drawing the bow forward. I swear he had reflexes quicker than a spooked cat, but as soon as he recognized me he slid the bow back across his shoulders and relaxed. Or relaxed as much as he could. Like Rick, Daryl never truly let all the tension go. Just enough to keep his muscles from getting sore from constantly being bunched up, ready at a heartbeat's notice to fling out wildly in a series of right and left hooks, ready to bash an enemy's skull to pieces. The difference between the two of them was that at one time Rick had been able to let the tension go whereas Daryl never had.

"Your shift's over," I said softly. I approached him slowly until we stood side by side in the middle of the catwalk and I closed my eyes when I felt the cool wind of the midnight breeze brush against my skin. It was heavenly against my overheated body, almost as comforting and arousing in the same measure as when Glenn would let me lean against his legs and he'd curl his fingers through my hair in a steady, rhythmic motion. When I opened up my eyes Daryl was still standing there, eyes still focused out at the yard and the few Walkers beyond that were biting at the fence.

"You can go back inside. I'm good," was his reply. I wasn't surprised. Daryl never liked it when someone tried to take his job away from him, regardless of what that job was. Carol said it made him feel like he was slacking, I personally thought it was pride.

"It's alright," I answered. "I can't sleep."

He fixed me with a look that spoke volumes. It was something that in a way kind of unnerved me about Daryl. He had such a rough exterior and on the surface you'd never peg him as someone who saw beneath the surface, but I could see that he knew what I meant.

"Rick's just being paranoid. We don't really need to keep watch here." He rolled his eyes a bit and scuffed the dusty floor with his boots and I smiled just a little. It was his way of trying to reassure me against the nighttime terrors that haunted my dreams. He would never come out and say that we were safe and everything would be ok, Daryl didn't have that much sugar coating in him to save his life, but it was good enough. I nodded to him and he returned the gesture with his own before slipping off the catwalk and back into the cellblock, leaving me alone with the quiet and the warm night air and the trace of cool breeze.

If I closed my eyes and just breathed in I could pretend like the world hadn't ended and nothing had changed, but those fantasies never lasted long. Because in them I wouldn't have Glenn, and I didn't want to picture my world without him in it. I tried to imagine what life would have been like had I met him in the Before, if everything would have played out like it had now. I had my doubts. In the world that was Glenn was a scared, nervous kid desperately trying be worthy of the world's respect and someone's love, and I was a girl who desperately wanted to be independent and to show her daddy that I could take care of myself, that he'd raised me right and he didn't have to worry about me in the wide-wide world out there. We were oil and water in the Before, and I doubted that any amount of shaking would have combined us together, any except the incredible full speed blender ride of the apocalypse we found ourselves in. Because somewhere in those hellish spinning blades Glenn had found his courage, and I'd found the place where it was safe to be vulnerable, to show him who I was and what he meant to me.

I could have shot myself (and him) in the foot for pushing me away the first time I told him I loved him. I was so hurt by that. I had trusted him with something so important and then he shoves me away like I'd stung him, like I was some overly clingy teenager. It hurt so much I could have kicked his ass from here to Houston. And then when the farm was overrun, we were back together fighting for our lives, and all I could think was that if I had to lose everything, he was the only one I would have wanted at my side. When we fled together in that bloodstained car after the farm was torn to pieces, not knowing if my family or any of the group had made it out alive, shaken and so distraught I couldn't even see straight, I was still so relieved and so thankful that though I might now be the only one left from my family, Glenn was at my side. In that one second everything was forgiven. In that one moment all of the hurt and pain from him pushing me away melted into nothingness. He held me to reality, kept me grounded, kept me from running back to the farm, back into the arms of a herd of death. He kept me safe. It was that night that I realized that even though he'd hurt me, even though he'd shaken me up, I could trust him, that I was not wrong or foolish to love him. I did love him, and he loved me. It had taken him longer to find the strength to admit it, but at the end of everything when it boiled down to it, he wanted what was best for me. Even if he had to grab me by the wrist and force me into the right direction. That was something else I loved about him. He had enough guts to put up a fight when it really counted. He wouldn't let me be my own worst enemy. He'd risk my tough, country girl wrath to make sure I was safe, that I was making the right decision. That said a lot to me, and I loved him for it.

I was so lost in all my thoughts and memories, near to the brink of tears for missing everything and all the roiling feelings in my chest that threatened to send me to my knees in a crying fit the likes of which I hadn't had in months, that I didn't hear him come up behind me. It wasn't until the wind blew and I inhaled a deep breath to steady myself that I caught his scent that I knew he was behind me. That smell of cheap strong, soap, worn down, overheated cotton, and something like warm bread. It filled my nose and immediately sent little tingles through my brain and I twisted around to see Glenn standing behind me.

"Hey," I murmured, unconsciously brushing my hand against my eye, trying to wipe away the burgeoning tear there before he could see it. But Glenn was far too observant and too in tune with me to be put off that easily.

"What's wrong, are you ok?" he asked, hurriedly coming close and taking me by the hand.

I quickly nodded my head. "I'm fine, nothing happened, I was just thinking." I tried to assure him. He was so prone to worry about me. Dad always said that it was just his way of showing how much he cared. In the beginning it used to get on my nerves a little- I was a big girl, I could take care of myself. Now, with all of the danger we'd seen and had to survive in this past year, I understood it more.

"What about?" he asked. He came to stand beside me, both hands on the fence, gazing out at the yard next to me. He wasn't looking right at me, but I knew he was listening.

"Before." I knew he knew what I meant. That word was a loaded term these days. Everyone knew what it meant. It was almost taboo to talk about it now. It was far too painful, brought up far too many emotions that sucked the life, and the will, out of everybody, even the most steely amongst us.

Now he looked at me and I was so glad when he did. The distress in me was always soothed whenever I could look in his eyes. He was so different than the nervous kid from that first night on the farm, his innocence (what was left of it anyway) was completely gone. In some ways he was harder, rougher, sharper, sometimes so much that it cut, sometimes so rough it burned, but when I looked in his face, when I stared deep in those brown eyes, I saw the man beneath all of that scar tissue and grit and I knew that gentle soul was still there. The world had turned him into a ruthless soldier, and sometimes I missed more than words could say that gentle Glenn from those early nights on the farm. The one that trembled a little when he held his gun, the one that would look at me for approval. And I think I missed that Glenn because that Glenn was still somewhat apart of the world Before. It wasn't such a staunch, blunt departure from everything we had ever known. That softer, more gentle Glenn was almost like a link to the past, a link into the life that I had not been apart of specifically, but that was in a time when I did not have to worry about literally fighting for my life every single day. But at the same time, whenever he jumped in front and took the lead on a herd of Walkers, or volunteered for a dangerous supply run, or offered to do any hard job that had to be done, my heart would surge with pride. That was my man and he was doing the things that lesser men couldn't stomach. He had been a good person before, but he'd grown into a man that not only me, but he too, could be proud of. The trick was to get him to believe it.

With a surge of affection I slowly moved and took him by the hand. I interlaced my fingers with his and smiled through the trickling tear across my cheek and pulled him close to me. I kissed him softly, just a gentle press of my lips on his. He responded a little too slow, not really expecting it, but by the second kiss he caught on. He was about to try and deepen it but I stopped before he could do so.

"I love you," I whispered. There was a lot more I could have said, that I wanted to say, that I probably would say later, but in that moment it was enough. The end of the world had a funny way of reshuffling one's priorities, and that definitely included the breath you wanted to spend on speech. Sometimes that pressure of cold, rasping death breathing down our necks constantly made me want to only say what was most important. At others it made me want to say all the little things that in the end would mean so much that most people don't waste two seconds to think about if the world wasn't crashing to an end around them. The end of the world and the tenuous strain of our lives on a tight rope every single day made every moment matter more than all the gold to be found in Fort Knox.

He smiled against my lips and it made me smile back. "I love you too."

It was so simple but it was perfect. I could tell by the slight tension in his lips he was thinking about saying more, but I decided not to let him ruin it. I kissed him again and this time was more insistent about it. He caught on quickly, responding with a quick touch, his free hand coming up to tighten in my hair and hold me close. Normally we played a little game of who would be the dominant of the two, and typically we traded off after a sensual but still playful struggle, but tonight I let just let him take me over. I needed it. I wanted it. I wanted him to overwhelm me and make me forget about everything. I needed that spark, I needed that fierce heat, that clutch in my belly and in all my muscles, I needed everything he could give me to wipe away all of the pain and the tears and remind me I had a future with him.

He sensed what I asked of him without words. We were always mindful of possibly getting caught (like that hadn't happened a dozen times over the winter), but even that was just the smallest pebble of space in the dusty corner of our minds. As we pulled each other's clothes off and used them as cushion against the concrete of the catwalk and we clung to each other against the ground he filled me with an inferno that burned away the pain and I began to feel more like myself. I gasped his name, his strong fingers biting into my hips and shoulders as he tugged me against him and moved against me, filling me with so much more than I ever thought I could hold in every sense of the word. I held him tight to me, arching my back, pressing belly to belly with him, clutching at his shoulders, my teeth sinking into the side of his neck as the pleasure spiked and burned through me like a wildfire. God in heaven above there was only so much a girl could take, and it wasn't like he was a porn stud between the sheets going to town, but it was everything I could have ever asked for, everything I needed, everything I wanted. I began to gasp his name, pushing my hips up into his even as he bore down against me. I knew I was risking us getting caught but hell if I could get my head out of the sexual hormonal charged spree to care. It wasn't like they didn't know, it wasn't like we hadn't gotten caught before. Hell, at this point if they didn't catch us at least once a month they started wondering if we were fighting.

My head spun, the world tipping on its axis, pleasure scoring through my blood just like a shot of straight whiskey down my throat. I gasped at it, my head knocking back against the ground even as we hit the home stretch. My knees hugged his ribs and urged him on even as my head tipped back and his teeth found my throat. He was always hesitant to bite, to mark me, but something in him was different tonight. He sank in deep just as he sent me over the edge and as the pleasure peaked and exploded like a comet colliding with a star he let go as well, his teeth biting hard against my throat. I shuddered against him, still floating on that fractured plane of pleasure and freedom as he pressed down hard against me, his own ending making him shudder. I curled my fingers through his hair and nuzzled his neck before finding his lips and kissing him again. He rolled away so he wouldn't smother me with his weight but not for long. Had we had the privacy of our own cell or tent he would have tugged me in close and curled his body across my back and held me tight until dawn, our clothes completely forgotten. Now we got back into our clothes (stealing kisses along the way) and when we were finally dressed we sat down against the wall of the prison and watched the yard with absent-minded attention, our fingers still interlocked. My other hand reached up and gently touched the imprint from his teeth against my throat and I smiled as I did so. He saw the motion and smiled shyly too, tipping his head forward and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry about that. I hope you're dad doesn't get upset," he said timidly.

I snickered. "I think he'll just add it to that long list of offenses that he'll beat you with his crutches for as soon as opportunity allows."

Glenn laughed and situated against the wall with me. We didn't speak for a long time, just looked out at the yard or up at the stars that glittered like crushed diamonds over our heads. The trees at the edge of the prison whispered in the wind, their leaves twitching back and forth in the breeze the rolled through, turning their almost silver undersides up to face us. The night felt so still, like it would shatter if I dared to disturb it, but I did dare, because I knew better. Nothing little Maggie Greene could do would send the world shaking more than it already had, and I guess that's what made it ok in some strange way.

"I'm with you, Glenn. I'm always with you." I looked at him as I spoke and he looked back at me, and I saw the recognition in his eyes.

"I'm with you too." I could tell he was a little shaky about saying it, mostly because he was guessing about what I meant, thinking he knew, but not quite sure. I smiled for him and I leaned against his shoulder. He lifted up his arm and I snuggled into his side, resting my head against his chest while his arm came down over my opposite shoulder and held me against his side.

"Would your parents have liked me?" I asked him. It was not the first time I had tried to talk about the Before to him, but I felt like tonight I might actually get somewhere. I felt like I needed to talk about it. Like keeping it taboo and shoved beneath the darkened corners of my mind was giving it the power to drive me crazy. Maybe if I worked through it somehow I could finally let it go and it could stop tormenting me. It was worth a shot at least.

He tilted his head, not quite looking at me. "Dad would have. Mom…Mom wouldn't have liked anybody I brought home except a full blooded Korean girl with rich parents."

I smiled a little. "My mom would have liked you." There. I said it. It stung, but not nearly as much as I thought it would have. I almost felt numb, like acknowledging that should have been far more difficult and it wasn't for some reason.

"Really?" I could hear the surprise I him and I glanced up at him curiously. He looked down at me with the same expression and I smiled.

"She'd of teased you a little, but it was something she did to people she liked. You're a good guy, Glenn, a lot better than some of the jerks I wasted time with before." I squeezed his fingers in between mine and exhaled.

"Just a good guy?" he asked.

When I looked up at him I saw the playful light and heard the gentle tone in his voice and I relaxed a little more. I sat still for a long time and tried to find the right words. I looked up at him and stared straight into his eyes and tried my best to see into him, and I swear to God, lit by all that starlight with the breeze messing up his bangs and the moon turning his skin to silver and softening all the hard edges that were brought on by far too much hunger, not enough sleep, and too much pain, I saw that smoky, foggy, absolutely present but so indefinable part of himself that had to be his soul. I swore when he fixed me with that look that said that even if he had to sacrifice the rest of the world, even if he had to beat himself bloody, even if he had to die, he would make sure I was safe, I just about cried. I squeezed his fingers again and despite all my attempts I felt the warmth of a single tear fall down my cheek again, just because I, little Maggie Greene, at the end of the world no less, was lucky enough to have someone like Glenn Rhee at her side, holding her hand, ready to give life, limb, everything he had, for me. I'm sure I didn't deserve it, but here he was, and I could not have been more grateful.

"You ok?" he asked me softly.

I sniffled a little and curled tighter into him, pressing my face into his chest and then his neck, inhaling that warm, comforting smell and letting it soak into me. I nodded against him and smiled into his chest.

"I'm ok," I whispered, not daring to look up at him just yet.

"Then why are you crying?"

I tried not to laugh. I didn't expect Glenn to understand the complexity and strangeness of my sudden emotionality. He didn't need to. In between all the stuff we had to keep up with in order to just stay alive these days, it didn't leave a lot of room to deal with things like mood swings and crazy emotional outbursts that even I wasn't sure where they came from. But nonetheless, I did chuckle a little, and when I looked up at him I wiped my eyes and I kissed him softly again.

"I was thinking about the world before. And how despite the fact that I lost my mom and my brother, Patricia and Otis, almost everyone I knew, the farm, I am still lucky. Because I have you. At the end of the world, when I lost almost everything, I found you. And I couldn't ask for much more than that, and it just amazes me." I kissed his lips again and he returned my affection as he let his fingers wind slowly through my hair.

"This is going to sound wrong on so many levels…but sometimes I don't mind that the world ended."

I shifted and looked up at him with a silent question that barely had time to leave my eyes and make it to his before he was already answering.

"I mean before the world went to hell what was I doing? I was delivering pizzas and going to school, living in my mom's house trying to deal with her and my dad fighting all the time and my sisters running around doing whatever they wanted and just trying to hold it all together and never let anybody know what was really going on. I mean my house wasn't horrible like Daryl's or something…but it wasn't that great either. I spent all my free time playing video games because I was too nervous to talk to people. I was the weird Asian kid stuck in Georgia where he didn't belong. After the world ended…it was like I had a second chance. I had a place to start over. And the craziest thing was that I did start over. And despite everything, I made it." He looked down at me and I saw a shy flush creeping over his skin but his eyes were still bright, like he was nervous to say his accomplishment out-loud, but he was too excited to stop himself. He shifted against me and pulled me in closer and I smiled, feeling the bright flush of pride bloom over me.

"We both did," I murmured into his neck.

He mumbled something into my hair but I didn't quite catch what it was. A sudden wave of exhaustion spilled over me and I found myself melting into Glenn's chest and side. I felt a little bit bad for sticking him with the watch when it was really my turn, but just like I knew I could, I trusted him to stay awake, and to wake me up if anything happened. I tried to fight off the sleep but Glenn coaxed me to it anyway with his rhythmic caress through my hair and the easy rise and fall of his chest with his steady breath. He soothed me back to sleep and even more than all the other nights, on this simple night with no name, no battle, and no trauma, I knew that despite the end of the world I had everything I could have ever asked for, and that was enough to let me rest easy.