Stopwatch

Its the end of the world... figures it'd be a Monday.

Glenn knew that there were only a handful of laws that one had to uphold. Well, only a handful if someone was stingy, sly and just wanted to get by. He didn't know the exact words or anything—he had never gone to church, and the only references he knew were from television or comic books or slang itself from the other teenagers his age.

Rule one. Don't break the law and get caught—not that he would go about breaking the law anyway. But if he ever did feel the inclination to do so, it would be best to not get caught.

Rule number two... don't kill other people. Its just not done... Well, technically it was. But that was besides the point.

And rule number three only applies to the other kids with strict parents... or just Asian parents—don't break the laws of the school. Don't get anything less then a 4.0 GPA. If you get an A minus, you're dead.

And rule number four—don't mess with Daryl Dixon. That was a unanimous rule of the school. For high school, at least. Daryl Dixon was one of those 'open secrets' that everyone knew. The rumor mills in the halls were terrible, and even someone like Glenn who had very few friends knew all there was to be known about Dixon. How the older Dixon brother never finished high school because he stole a car and ran it in to a mall fountain. He went to juvenile hall for a while. And afterward he had the chance to go back to high school, but he just never did.

But everyone knew Daryl Dixon was bad. Not only did he look old, he was normally dirty all the way to the finger nails and tended to smell. He glared at anyone that came near and never spoke to anyone. That, and despite the fact that he was two years in to high school, he was still around the Freshmen level of education. As in, he had classes with the Freshmen because he was so inbred and stupid that he couldn't advance. Or that was the rumors, at least.

At Macon High in Georgia, rumors mean everything. And most of them were true.

And, well... Glenn had always known that he lived with a particular brand of stupid. In fact, it had to be his fault that there was so much stupid in the halls. He was only a freshman, so there had to be some allowances. But nothing could cover for the fact that when he did stupid shit, it was really stupid.

The warning bell had rung moments ago, and all the students had scampered in to their classes. There were only five minutes between the warning bell and the start of official class time and Glenn didn't understand why the time was so short! He had been in the bathroom when the bell had rung, stuck behind a line.

Yes. A line in the boys bathroom. Who would believe that? Well, Glenn knew that two of the three stalls were condemned via explosive diarrhea that no one flushed and no one wanted to get near enough to flush. The last stall was filled with the grunts of a constipated football player (as the bag on the floor stated, at least). There were only three urinals. But who the hell wants the middle one? Not even Glenn would take that one. Way too close.

So, when he finally finished his business and got the hell out of that shit-hole (literally) he was running late to grab his bag from his locker and get to class. He was on the main floor of school in the enclosed hallway. His math class (advanced Algebra... which he was sadly failing) was on the second floor on the other side of campus and he needed to run. He was rushing so much that his fingers bumbled clumsily on the dial three times before a boot connected to his back and kicked him to the side just as he got his locker open.

Glenn had always known that the kid that gets the bottom of the stacked lockers was always the one that gets screwed. It was the 'bitch locker' after all. It had been a few weeks in to the school year already, but he hadn't known who his locker buddy was until they (just now) kicked him in the backside.

Glenn blinked dumbly at the floor, his back going from numb to stinging and aching as he slowly looked up and up...

And saw dirty Daryl Dixon.

"Wha..." The word started to slip out before he clamped his mouth shut—that didn't stop Daryl from shifting the door of the locker over and looking down at him. And Daryl Dixon really did know how to look down at people. His nostrils flared and his nose wrinkled as if a particularly nasty odor had wafted near him. Those dark eyes gleamed black like little dark beetles. Glenn felt his heart stop for a moment, because under the layers of dirt and uncombed hair and scraggy facial hair was... someone that was capable of violence.

Their staring contest lasted but a moment before those eyes narrowed—"wha'tre ya lookin' at, Chink?" He sneered, and it was surely an ugly face. But Glenn didn't register that so much as the racial slur and the fact that Daryl Dixon was getting surly because Glenn was staring at him.

Glenn's eyes shot to his locker. "N-n-nothing!" He stuttered out as he carefully grabbed for his messenger bag and hauled it out of the locker. Carefully to not even so much as brush Daryl's jean covered legs and boots from where they were planted right in front of his locker. Daryl made a noise. A deep, viscous sound that seemed to come from the center of his chest much like the growl of an angry dog. But the dirty teen didn't move to strike, and Glenn was quick to keep his head down as he shut the door of his locker and scuttled back on his hands and knees.

Glenn hadn't realized his heart could pound so much and so loudly from fear alone. Glenn had played video games about bullying, and this was a frighteningly similar scene. His legs were shaking to the point where he didn't think he could stand. Of course, this was the time where the bully would do a swift kick to his ribs and then stomp on him for a bit before demanding money. Glenn froze, stuck between anticipation and horror and all he could seem to look at was his stupid locker as he threw his messenger back over his neck and slid an arm through it, carefully protecting his sides during the motion.

He absently registered a noise—something on the lower end of the registry—before the top locker slammed shut and Glenn's eyes jerked up to Dixon as the other pulled away.

The other was leaving—and Glenn was filled with relief at seemingly being left alone (the other could turn around and chuck something at him, the pessimistic side of himself informed him rather matter of factly). Here he was, crouched on his heels and watching the other clunk away, throwing one of those stupidly plain and cheap black backpacks on to one shoulder. Only Dixon would be too lazy to zip up the only large pocket of that bag—

… and oh.

A wave of nausea rolled through Glenn as he noticed, amongst a bunch of crumbled papers... the dull, matte finish of the handle of some hand gun. As the emotion caused sickness rolled through his belly, the chill of the cold crept down the back of his neck until his body gave one brief spasm. And he couldn't move from the floor even as Dixon disappeared. Even as the final bell rang.

It took a while before he could use a precarious hold of a locker's lock to haul himself on shaky legs.

Dirty Daryl Dixon had a gun. Glenn didn't know if it was just the handle or if the other had any bullets—but he knew that Dixon had been forced on to campus today. Everyone who had been there to see his escort had spread it liberally over the school day and especially during lunch. High school was mandatory for the most part—and Glenn didn't know Daryl's specific circumstances but he guessed that the other didn't want to bother with school. Maybe he even resented it? Hated it?

Glenn had to tell someone—an adult. Anyone, but really, an adult would be best. They could do something. Call the police or evacuate the campus or something. Anyone with a gun was dangerous. And Daryl had to be more dangerous then others because he was as much of a stereotype hick as was possible. If someone looked up 'red neck' in the dictionary, there would be Dirty Daryl Dixon with a gun or a bear trap or something. Glenn took a deep breath and did his best to make his mind slow down because he was doing it again. Where he would just stand still and let his mind run wild and not do anything!

Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his hair. He wanted to pull his hat out of his bag and wear it for comfort. But the campus security (an old guy named Fred and the other one was some disgruntled middle aged guy named Dick—and Glenn would be disgruntled too if that was his name) took and never gave back the hats that they collected on campus. They were not allowed and were considered a dress code violation. Like how girls had to have a certain length to their skirts and shorts and they weren't allowed to wear sleeveless shirts anymore. And how phones weren't allowed on campus. In fact, if was because of those stupid campus rules that his parents had refused to buy him a phone and—

And he was doing it again. Move! He glanced down to his legs and commanded them. And although they felt like jelly, and it took an extreme amount of effort to really just move.. He still moved. And his legs brought him slowly through the halls, his sneakers scuffing the floor as he shuffled along. As he neared the counseling office (he didn't know where he was going, really... or he just didn't know where else to go) he felt a certain reluctance file through himself.

What if Dixon was just holding it? Or maybe it was fake? What if it had been anyone else but Daryl Dixon? Would he be tattling on anyone else if he saw a gun? … well, no. He would probably confront them.

But if he confronted Daryl, the other might kill him.

… and Glenn wasn't brave enough to go against Daryl Dixon. Not for anyone.

He had stood outside of the door too long and it was opened before he could decide if he really wanted to go in or not. A girl with red eyes and her arm wrapped up in gauze was sniffling her way out through the door, soon followed by concerned parents. Glenn supposed that she had fallen during P.E. (she was wearing their lame gym clothes) and had fallen on that troublesome stump that was in the middle of the short cut most students took. Several students had gone home for it already.

Glenn stumbled out of their way and was seriously contemplating going off, but he locked eyes with the lady behind the counter and he couldn't... well... An adult would understand, right?

He shuffled in, unconsciously hunching his shoulders a little as he stepped up to the fake wooden counter and looked to the woman on the other side—glazed eyes, black, heavy set and overall unhappy looking—and he cleared his throat to try and get it to work. She focused on him (as much as she could, what was wrong with her?) and she lifted an eyebrow.

"U-um... well, I... You see... um..." Glenn stuttered, paused, stuttered again and drifted off. The woman didn't look amused or humored by his sad attempt at him conversation and instead she shifted to face him fully.

"You lookin' to talk to some'un? Let me 'ave your ID number and then you can sit down ta wait." Glenn nodded and rattled off his number and when she confirmed his identity, he stumbled off to the uncomfortable waiting seats. He clutched his bag to his chest and wondered if he felt bad that he was missing a big test right now. His parents definitely wouldn't understand, but his teacher would maybe feel some sympathy if he told the man that Daryl Dixon had scared the shit out of him. Or... or threatened him. Or beat him up. His back was sore, so the other's initial kick must have done something there.

Glenn took a moment to wonder how many rumors of Daryl Dixon were made to cover the short comings of others...

He sat in that chair for the next half hour. There were no windows in the waiting room (but there was a painting of a beach on the far side of the wall... mocking him...) and he could only fidget and stare blankly at his shoes. He could have used his time wisely to figure out more arguments for his parents to get him a phone... they wouldn't have to get him any kind of texting ability, he wouldn't use it! Okay... well, maybe he wanted that. But if it would just get him a phone, he knew someone that knew someone that... could do stuff.

His eyes drifted off to the side absently, one leg bouncing up and down as he waited... and waited...

And eventually he was called in—a simple "Glenn!" And he shot out of his seat like a rocket. It wasn't as if the voice sounded offended or anything. But he was used to people choosing to call his first name because of how American and easy it sounded. And Glenn shuffled over to the homey looking lady that stood at the front of a door that led in to an office that, thankfully, had windows this time.

It was a nice office, but the details were hard to focus on. As was the lady. She wasn't his academic counselor. But he flopped in to the chair in front of the desk without much of a thought as the lady moved and actually took a seat on the edge of her empty desk and looked down at Glenn. She waited for a moment.

And Glenn, finding no words, sunk down even more in to his seat.

"Would you care to tell me what's troubling you, Glenn?" She asked, and Glenn couldn't help but notice that she looked like an older version of one of the pretty girls in his class—well, she was the unfortunate older copy of what the girl would look like if she didn't watch what she ate and wore no sun screen. Not that the counselor was fat or anything—

"Glenn?"

Oh, he did it again. Glenn shifted and looked away. How do you bring up the fact that someone had a gun? Or might have a gun. Glenn wasn't too sure. And that he was really only saying it because Dixon had such a terrible reputation and Glenn didn't have the balls to go confront Daryl himself. "Well, I... um... you see..." He started and trailed off. He risked looking from the ground and to the woman's face and he unfortunately caught the lady's blue eyes.

They were warm and friendly and she seemed uniquely interested in trying to help him. Glenn felt his lips quiver as he tried to find a way to actually speak. Maybe... maybe he could do it the round-about way?

"Um... well, you see... you know Daryl Dixon, right?" He saw something flicker through the woman's eyes, but she didn't say a thing. And her silence seemed to say 'go on'. So Glenn continued on.

"W.. well, I found out that we're locker buddies. I have the bottom locker. I didn't know who the top one was for weeks! Of course, I don't really use my locker much unless it's lunch and I can shove my bag away so nothing happens to it because I might forget it or someone might take it and—sorry, sorry... that's not what I'm here to talk about. Um." Were his palms sweating?

He glanced down his hands to see that he was clutching his bag rather tightly to his chest.

"Easy there, Glenn. Easy..." The lady had lowered her voice—and Glenn let his eyes dart over to the name tag on the other side of the desk just so he could get her name and found 'Jessica Cran'. He looked back to Mrs. Cran and he took another forced deep breath so his words wouldn't come out in a stumbling rush. He couldn't quite make himself let go of his bag, though.

Glenn tried again, the lady looked nice enough. And maybe smart enough—"well, I was rushing to get to class and he... well, Daryl kicked me. And he had a scary look on his face and... and..." And maybe the other was in his class, right now, contemplating pulling out that gun and going postal on everyone and Glenn was just sitting here, blathering on like this? Glenn didn't much notice how white his face got, but Mrs. Jessica Cran took the obvious fear as something else and she gently coaxed the other back to looking at her once again.

"You can't judge someone like Daryl on first impressions, really... Don't take it to heart." She tried to calm him down. Although Glenn wasn't too sure what she was trying to calm. She didn't know what he saw. What he hadn't meant to see but saw anyway. She continued on, "he just isn't good with people... don't worry, you're not the first to complain so don't—" Well, Glenn felt bad for cutting her off.

"I'm not complaining! I... I... !" Glenn didn't get to finish.

The voice of the principle suddenly appeared over the speakers that were installed in every classroom, in every room of the building. His voice crackled dryly as he informed everyone to pause classes and go to the gymnasium. There was no explanation, but rather a request that students leave their bags in their classrooms.

The voice clicked off and there was only a suddenly awkward silence between him and Mrs. Jessica Cran.

She placed a heavy hand that was supposed to be comforting on his shoulder and she gave him a wan smile that didn't comfort him at all and told him to get along. This sounded important. And he could come back after school.

… he never got to tell her about how he thought Daryl was going to go postal in whatever class he had.

But maybe Daryl would just go postal in the gymnasium. No one ever left their bags in their classrooms when something like this happened. Be it for prep rallies (that was at least a month away, though) or emergency whatevers. Glenn dragged his feet as he sluggishly made his way to the indoor gymnasium. He kept his eyes to the floor and mulled over his situation now that he was no longer in such a high stress environment. Well, there was still the stress but he was no longer confronting it or anything else.

Glenn absently wiped his hands off on his pants to get rid of the last traces of his nervous palm sweat and slouched in to the gymnasium with the last class. The doors were closed behind himself. No one was in their respective lines and the teachers weren't forcing kids to go anywhere. He could see other teens ambling on the stands, around the gymnasium floor...

He didn't much feel like talking to other people, though, and he stuck himself to the far edges of the wall, and walked to the far end of the gymnasium so he was no longer anywhere near the doors that he had come in at. Whatever meeting that the teachers or the principle or whatever were doing, when they were done everyone would be funneled out that way. And Glenn hated being squished.

He could hear the principle, Mr. I-Have-A-Really-Hard-German-Name calling out for quiet—but the man had to know by now that he'd never silence anyone. Near the back, no one stopped chatting. Glenn rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the other doors of the gymnasium...

...and he felt his heart jump in to his throat as he saw Dirty Daryl Dixon slip out through the doors.

… his heart had just about jumped free when his body moved without a thought, and he stopped the door from closing and locking. Although, now that he caught the door he took a moment to contemplate what the hell he was doing. So what if the other was leaving? Didn't that just mean Daryl Dixon wasn't going to snap and kill them all? He was probably ditching school. And at this point, Glenn wouldn't mind doing so either. But at least Daryl Dixon wasn't in the school anymore, he felt just a little bit safer.

Okay. Honestly. He felt safer. Really.

Glenn realized he was lying to himself and let out a big sigh. He glanced up to the exit sigh above the door before he looked to his hand. The counselor (with the name he had already forgotten, but he remembered her blue-blue eyes) had said to not judge a book by their covers. As cliché as that was, of course. When kids brought guns to school, it was expected that you were supposed to tattle on them.

And it was known that... when kids brought guns to school, that they had... problems.

Glenn took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly as he took a moment to calm down—he could vaguely catch a few words from the principle. Words like; "military branches," "tanks," "Atlanta," and the like. Maybe some big military thing was happening or whatever.

Glenn slipped out the back door of the gym.

… it was time to go and confront Dirty Daryl Dixon... and maybe give him a reason to not shoot up the school.

The sun was a blinding white and blistering when he stepped out onto the walkway in front of the back entrance gymnasium doors. Glenn winced and shielded his eyes with his hands and wished for his hat (against school regulations, Glenn didn't wear them anymore on campus because he knew he'd never get it back. That one hick named Greg had been the first example of the school year) as he tried to blink away the spots. The cement under his feet seemed to glow like the white walls of a hospital room and the stark metal railing in front of him was just about all he could see as he stumbled forward.

He shut the door as softly as he could, slowing it down enough so that the door didn't actually shut, but just rested right before being locked. If Daryl Dixon didn't beat the shit out of him then he wanted a way inside that wasn't through the front main doors again because they might phone his parents for causing trouble.

He blinked for a few minutes as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He reached out and rested a hand on the hot metal of the black rail and squinted down the small dirt hill that the gymnasium was set next to. Pretty soon browns started to return to his vision—and then the yellow-green half dead crab grass and then the red of the roof a little ways away. Glenn let out a big whoop of a sigh and squinted one last time before opening his eyes all the way.

There was the artificial football field with the rubber track. No dark figures were there. Glenn did a sweeping look from left to right before he caught a shape that was just a little ways past the artificial grass. Glenn couldn't tell if it was Dixon or not, but he would bet it was. No one else should be out here but them.

The stinging heat of the railing under his fingers made him draw his hand back quickly once he noticed it again. He blew on his fingers as he turned right and jogged down the little handicap ramp that would lead to the stadium around the fake field. The whump of his bag hit his side heavily with every other step. By the time he reached the high school sized stadium, he was a little short on breath and panting. The summer had been brutal, and the Fall weather wasn't coming fast enough. No, really, it wasn't.

Glenn almost called it quits right then and there...

Only he noticed that Daryl hadn't disappeared. And in fact, the hick was pacing the fence line like a caged animal. Glenn snorted to himself and wondered how anyone could miss the hole in the fence once they went down to the last baseball field. Apparently no one else but him had wandered that far down school property to discover the hole besides the druggies. Glenn ended up hopping the fence that separated the stands from the field and he landed smoothly on the rubber track.

Once he was safely done and over, he turned around and froze. Yes, that was definitely Daryl Dixon, and he was staring right at Glenn. Glenn was too far to make out the details of Daryl's face clearly, but he could feel the other's eyes (and it burned!) on him. Glenn could almost relate his situation to a cat and mouse—except that didn't want to.

But the pin of the other's eyes was impossible to leave—and he was supposed to be going and talking to Daryl anyway. Glenn let out a big sigh before he dragged his feet forward as he walked toward where the other was standing. Halfway through the tedious walk, Glenn reached out and squished his bag to his side. And once he was close to be able to see the closed, pinched expression on Daryl's face, well, that was when Glenn decided to stop walking. The space between them seemed large enough that should it be needed, Glenn could turn tail and run and might be able to get away.

Might, being the key word.

"The hell you do'in 'ere." It wasn't a question, and Glenn flinched slightly at the sound of authority that the other was able to put into his words. Damn, those rumors were true too—and probably the ones where Dixon tried to buy alcohol by being as adult as possible.

But he couldn't stay silent forever. "Um, well.. I ..." Glenn trailed off and a small part of himself (the part that was buried under high expectations from his parents and stereotypes) refused to fully cower before the other's increasing glare.

"What." Dixon snarled.

"Youbroughtagunandpleasedon'tkillanyoneit'snotwort hit." Glenn took a sharp breath after his word vomit and froze. He didn't think he would have the guts to repeat that, and a cautious look to Dixon's face showed that it didn't need to be repeated. But then again, Dixon's face looked like it was currently carved out of stone.

Glenn dropped his eyes for only a second but when he raised them again he saw that Dixon had already just about finished crossing the distance between them. Glenn let out a yelp of shock even as he started to back-peddle from the other. His stumbling didn't get him far, and Dixon fisted his hand in the front of Glenn's shirt. Glenn's feet continued to uselessly push back for a few moments as he tried to lean as far away as possible.

"Shut it!" Dixon hissed and Glenn blinked and snapped his mouth shut from the babble that had been streaming from his mouth without his notice.

Dixon took a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes briefly before he snapped them open and tightened his grip on the front of Glenn's shirt. (and his eyes weren't dark at all, not really...)

"You'd best keep that trap of yur's shut. What 'ave you told?" He shook Glenn once as he demanded answered.

"N-n-nothing! I've told them nothing. Honest! I swear!" Glenn's hands had automatically raised and clamped down on Dixon's arm for better balance so he didn't just fall over. Although he let out an involuntary whimper when the other's glare seemed to deepen. For someone so brawny, he sure knew how to kill someone with his eyes!

Dixon made a noise deep in his throat before turning his head to the side and letting a spit ball go—and then he shoved Glenn away. The action was so unexpected that Dixon was able to smoothly pull his arm away even as Glenn fell smack on to his back. And he didn't have time before Dixon's foot found purchase on his chest. Glenn raised his hands in surrender, trying not to breath fast as he stared up at the other.

"Now." Dixon intoned lowly, and Glenn was sure he couldn't even look away if he tried. "Yur gunna keep that trap of yur's shut. Not. A. Word. Do you unn'erstand me?" Dixon minutely pushed on Glenn's chest with his foot and Glenn was able to wheeze out that yes. Yes, he understood. A grim stretch of Dixon's lips crossed over his face, and Glenn couldn't even bring himself to call it a smile.

Dixon let out a huff, "'den we've reached an agreement. Get 'da fuck out of my sight, China man." Dixon pulled his foot away. And for a second Glenn thought that the other was going to kick him in the side like a classic bully would. But Dixon didn't. Merely turned and started to walk away. Glenn scrambled up on to his knees and then on his feet.

He needed to leave. Get back to the auditorium. Before anyone noticed he was missing—and his mouth ran off.

"I'm Korean!"

The stadium seemed to echo back—Korean! Korean! Korean! Or maybe that was just his heart thudding in his ears as he watched Dixon freeze before the redneck turned and looked over his shoulder at Glenn. Dixon had settled his head low, looking much like a dog that was shouldering itself down to bulldoze through a herd of bigger dogs.

Glenn dropped open his mouth. Maybe he was going to apologize. Maybe he was going to continue jabbering. Maybe he was really going to lay down the law and demand that Dirty Daryl Dixon never harm a soul and never bring that gun back to school.

Whatever he was going to do, his heart rate shot through the roof even as Daryl turned on his heel to look at him.

Glenn started to speak.

And the student in the auditorium started to scream. It was low at first, but the horror in those screams carried and Glenn's thought process died as he swiftly turned around to look back to where he had come from. The noise was growing louder and louder. A crescendo that seemed to be building on itself. Everyone could probably hear it from a mile away. And Glenn could only watch as the doors he had just left not ten minutes ago slammed open and people poured out. The first out instantly started running in as many directions as possible. Some even jumped the railing to just get away.

The screaming only got louder now that everyone had spilled outside.

Glenn let out a shriek when a hand clamped down on his arm—a heavy, painful grip that had him stumbling even as Dixon pulled him a long. "W.. w-w-what. What are you doing! Why.. what...!" Glenn sputtered, but Dixon made no mind of it as he dragged the other to the fence he had been eying earlier. Dixon let go and tugged on the chain link fence even as he shot a glance over his shoulder to the people that were still pouring out.

Why was the other running? What if somebody needed help?

"Come on. Let's head back. Maybe... maybe there was a bomb threat or something and everyone is evacuating..." Glenn offered the other, although he was really just unwilling to go back alone when the screams just unnerved him.

Dixon didn't even look at him as he snarled, "look at the fuck'in parking lot." Dixon hoisted himself up a little, trying to find a purchase with the chain link fence. And Glenn turned to look.

Crowds... maybe a horde of people were running around the parking lot from what he could see at this angle. From the distance, he could see that many of them were red and shiny. They weren't running, really. Now that he looked. But they were shuffling awfully fast. Well, Glenn took that back. Some people were running.

Only to be caught and brought to the ground by the people who weren't.

Glenn felt cold as he watched. He... he didn't understand... what... what was going on?

He jumped at Dixon's snarl of frustration, and that prompted him to look to the people that had spilled out from the auditorium. They... they were pretty much the same as the people spilling in to the normal school walkway. And his stomach churned with fear. He... he didn't want to go and help anyone. The screaming was just... just horrible.

Glenn wanted his parents.

… he doubted that Dixon had a cell phone that he could borrow to call their work.

"Who tha' fuck doesn't put proper exits everywhere? This field is a fuck'in death trap! .. fuck!" Dixon hissed in agitation and shook the fence. And the other's raging seemed to ignite a fight or flight sense within Glenn as he turned to look at the other futilely pulling on the chain link. Glenn's breath shuddered and he felt light headed for a second. He glanced to the stands—there were people there already. And.. and people getting pulled down and people screaming.

He didn't know why he did it. Maybe for the same reason Dixon had pulled him to the fence. Glenn reached out and grabbed Dixon's elbow—except the other pulled away with a baring of teeth.

Glenn didn't care if his voice cracked, or he seemed frightened (because he was, even though part of him didn't understand why), "come on! There is a hole further down the fence line!" Dixon froze briefly at that before he opened his mouth—

Glenn shrieked again when a body threw itself at the fence Dixon was clinging to, and Dixon flew back with a shout even as the person on the other side pressed themselves—herself (Glenn's mind corrected) against the fence where Dixon had just been. Her mouth was open, dark and gumming at the chain link. Her skin was a waxy pale and her eyes were practically purple bruises.

The worst part was the blood. Her front was covered with it. It was flowing from her mouth in rivulets. And her neck and shoulders and arms... they were pretty much just strips of meat, barely hanging on... It took a second for the smell of copper to hit—Glenn choked back the need to heave as he stared. The girl's throaty wheezing scared him. The eyes.. .the eyes were so open and unseeing..

This wasn't real. Not real. Just a dream. Maybe he had stayed up too late secretly playing one of those end of the world apocalypse video games last night.

Yes, this was just a dream.

Until his face met the ground.

His cheek was stringing. His jaw ached. And he had the smell of hot rubber in his nose as he stared dumbly on the ground. His mind caught up a second later...

… Dixon had just punched him!

Glenn made a noise of protest as Dixon hauled him to his feet and gave him another mighty shake. He was yelling, he had probably been yelling for a bit, seeing as he looked so angry—"where tha' fuck is this hole inna' fence, huh!" He gave Glenn a mighty shake and Glenn could see beyond Dixon that there were more bloody (was that real?) people lining up at the fence between the stone seating and the football field. They were tugging and moaning and wheezing and making such a racket.

But none of them were on the field.

"W..w.. why don't we just stay down here? Stay and wait for the police—" Glenn had started but Dixon just gave him another shake.

"We ain't waiting fur those assholes! Fuck'in move!"

Glenn only had a moment to decide what to do before he turned and took off toward where the hole in the fence was with Daryl Dixon hot on his heels. Glenn didn't know what was wrong with everyone. Or what was happening. But he thought that maybe, in the distance...

… maybe those noises were gunshots.

But that didn't matter as he led the way down to the small dirt hill that led to the series of baseball fields that the school sported. Glenn kicked up dirt and rocks and he skidded along. Somehow he remained on his feet—it was probably the adrenaline. It felt like he wasn't getting enough air, but he could hear himself breathing so loudly. And his bag was thumping in to his side again and again. But he was running, and now that he was... he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Dixon from time to time. Glenn led the way behind the metal baseball cage to the next hill which brought them to the next baseball field. The second to last. Thank God almighty that these weren't football fields. Glenn saw that there was a small group of druggies hanging out in this most recent metal baseball cage. In fact, the five of them had moved in to the very back of the cage, where the only thing that separated Glenn and Dixon from them was the chain link fence of the half cage.

Even as they ran by, one girl shrieked at them, "hey! What's going on up there?"

Glenn hadn't the breath to answer, and Dixon just ignored her as they reached the last hill. They skidded down... and, well, Glenn tripped. He went down on his hands and knees and skidded. He was up on his feet in a crack, but his hands ached hotly. His jeans had saved his knees, but his hands..!

Glenn stumbled to a halt as he stared at his hands. They were bloody and red and shiny. Glenn instantly felt nauseous because he could see it, right in front of his eyes... the woman from up above. Her skin in strips and the blood... the...

The...

Hand.

Glenn jerked, but didn't protest. There was a hand on his elbow and Dixon was pulling him toward the last batting cage. There wasn't a visible hole in the fence, so the other still needed him. And, well.. Glenn was starting to think that he felt a lot safer with Dixon with him right now. "R-right... Um, this way. T.. this way." He gasped his words out, because the panic was making him shaky. He could hear the screaming still, even as he led the way around the batting cage. He didn't know who designed this lower field. But whoever did was a bit of an idiot. The batting cage was built practically right next to the school's main chain link fence. Piled next to the cage was just a stone of left over sports crap that made the right kind of pile to climb.

"Climb where I do!" Glenn insisted as he tightened the strap of his bag so that the messenger came in close to his body. A moment later he was scrambling up the pile and then rolling on top of the chain link box that was the batting cage. Dixon was just a moment behind him.

Glenn crawled on his stomach to the side that was facing the school's main fence. It was too tall to jump right over. But whatever the name of those bushes that had grown next to and in to the fence had essentially forced the fence taunt. And someone had seen that as an opportunity to cut an obscure hole.. Glenn pulled himself to his feet and turned to look to Dixon. The other wasn't breathing nearly as hard as Glenn was. But as if on some kind of secret signal, Dixon looked back to Glenn the same moment that he looked to Dixon.

"Okay.. okay... You see it, right? It's a drop on the other side, but you can kind of slip down in the space between the bushes and the fence... and..." Glenn trailed off, because he could see someone running toward them. "And..." Dixon frowned and turned to follow Glenn's eyes to the running figure.

It was a girl. Long black hair and goth clothing—and she was sprinting right toward them... and there were people on her tail. She was putting some distance between them and her, but not by much.

She knew they were there, though.

She was screaming at them, after all, "hey! Don't fuckin' leave me! Help me! Help, help!" She was the one that had screeched at them earlier. Behind her was someone else that was sprinting. But she was having a harder time of moving. Whatever she was saying wasn't getting past her panting... but it didn't matter much because of the shuffling people after them caught her and brought her down screaming.

Glenn didn't focus on her, though. He focused on the other girl who had reached the wrong side of the chain link. She was pale faced and terrorized and she wrapped her fingers in to the chain link lamely, "oh help me up! Help me up!"

Glenn, well... Glenn moved forward to help. And immediately Dixon's hand was on his arm (wrapped all the way around, actually. Dixon had large hands, and Glenn already knew he had skinny arms) and stopping him. Well, only for a moment. Glenn shook his arm free and glared up at Dixon for a second before dropping to his stomach at the edge of the cage and he reached down with both hands.

He saw her face light up and she quickly locked hands with him and Glenn pulled back... and then came to the realization that... well..

… human being are heavy.

Glenn choked and gave another haul and lifted her up for the most part. He could see the understanding and the terror approaching on her face. And Glenn squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and hauled—!

And she came up so easy that Glenn hauled himself all the way backwards with a heap of girl on top of himself. Glenn was quick to open his eyes and look down. He had done it! He was strong then he looked. Definitely—.. definitely not. Because just above her was Dixon as the other finishing hauling the girl's legs on to the chain link cage. Dixon glanced over to Glenn after a moment and then wrinkled his nose at Glenn before he stood and looked to the hole in the fence.

Glenn sighed and dropped his head back. He didn't it for only a moment (so what if it hadn't been him, really, but had been Dixon too?) The girl was still only for a moment before she was getting to her feet and Glenn scrambled up. Dixon was scowling as he waited for explanation. Because... well, Glenn looked down and noticed that the.. the... the creeps (that was a good name for them, Creeps) had appeared. There were three or so at the cage now. And no one wanted to risk falling.

"Okay. We have to jump. Its a pretty short distance... so.." Glenn glanced over his companions before he turned to the hole. He gave himself a short distance to gain momentum and leaped. One hand was out and ready to wrap in the chain link. The other grabbed some branches even as he expertly shoved a foot in to the waiting hole in the fence.

It bowed with his weight, and Glenn held his breath even as he stubbornly held on. His fingers ached and the grip he hand on the branched slid off painfully (oh yeah, his palms were bloody, that was probably why his grip on the girl's hands had sucked) and for one moment he thought he was going to tip... But his fingers wrapped in the fence held on and he gained equilibrium. Glenn shuffled himself and wiped his palms off on his shirt quickly before he turned back to look to the others.

She looked relieved. Dixon was blank faced.

"Come on, I can catch!" Glenn offered out an arm to whoever was going to jump. Dixon and the girl glanced to each other and Dixon stepped away. Her eyes went large and she seemed to shake for a moment in her goth boots before she took some careful, measured steps back and them leaped forward.

Glenn hooked a leg through the hole and used that to keep himself steady as he quickly threw his arm around her. Her hands had missed the fence, but she had gotten a foot in to the hole. Glenn was quick to direct her to the other side of the hole so she was out of the way. She hung on to the fence like a money, quivering.

So, he turned to Dixon.

"I'll get myself. Get out o'tha way." Dixon replied shortly. Glenn's eyes widened as he nodded and he slipped to the other side of the hole and found the halfway horizontal bar and got his purchase.

And then Dixon leaped, stepped in to the hole and through it... and crashed in to the brush and fell to the ground. Glenn gaped, but instantly moved to shimmy down the fence. He couldn't hold on to it long because the Creeps had gathered on the other side. So he let go and dropped the last bit. He landed awkwardly on the ground, but rolled with it. He came up for air and turned to Dixon (was he alright?) and found the other sitting up and brushing off leaves and twigs. He had a few red marks and some scratches on his visible skin.

Dixon caught him staring and raised an eyebrow.

A crash further down the way showed that she had jumped too. Although she had just landed on her rear. She groaned from the ground. Glenn glanced to Dixon before he shuffled over to her.

"You alright?" Glenn asked softly after a moment. The Creeps had followed him along the fence as he walked to her. She was laying on the flat of her back with her eyes shut. They fluttered open after a moment and she looked up at him—she had pretty brown eyes. Kind of like a kicked puppy, with his inherently sad look to her. Glenn didn't get long to observe and she didn't get a chance to speak as Dixon jostled Glenn with a hand on Glenn's shoulder.

"Enough staring, lets get up and fuckin go!" He hissed. And Glenn noticed then that the gun Dixon had in his bag was definitely real. And it was in Dixon's hand, safety unlocked.

It wasn't pointed at Glenn, though. So... Glenn crouched down and grabbed the girl's arm and hauled her up. She seemed to feel the urgency and scrambled up to her feet. Glenn took point again and led them the careful path out of the bushes. Glenn burst out in to the street and stumbled.

It was a nightmare. People were running left and right. There was a line of police vehicles to the left. The officers were all lined up behind it and popping off rounds of their handguns. Glenn didn't know how he had ignored the noise. But for some reason, until just a few moments ago it had felt that the world had been just the three of them. Glenn froze and Dixon rushed right in to him and threw him on his face.

Glenn groaned face first in to the ground, but didn't fight when a hand hauled him up by the back of his shirt. He cautiously touched his nose—no blood.

The hand was on his elbow again, hauling him down the road... and away from the police?

"Wait. Wait—stop! We should stick to the police... they have guns..." Glenn started, only for him to turn and see Dixon giving him the most unamused look in the history of expressions. Glenn didn't know why everyone called Dixon inhumane. He clearly could express emotions, after all.

The girl was quick to pipe up, already at Dixon's other side, "they're too busy covering their own asses. We gotta save our own skin. Yah?" She was still pale and clammy looking, but she wasn't panicking anymore. Glenn thought that he might be past his own shock. Or maybe he was just being reliant, because Dixon kept a firm hand on his elbow as he rushed the way down the road.

There weren't any Creeps on this side of the fence so far. Dixon kept his gun low. They were passing an intersection maybe a block from the school when Dixon banked right and turned that way down the street. Only they all stopped short when they saw that there was another police car line up... although this one was more vigorous... because there were more people on the other side of the cars getting shot at.

"Aha, not much of a road block..." Glenn started before he shut up. He didn't want to make any nervous jokes. Dixon's fingers clenched on his elbow before they let go. Glenn looked up to the other and found that Dixon was doing that one thing. Hunkering down, looking like he was going to shoulder through something no matter what. And since he was looking at the near overwhelmed road block...

Glenn started, "wait! Wait! Let's go somewhere else. It's too dangerous." He was quick to put in, and the girl looked relieved that someone else was going to be the voice of reason.

Dixon sneered, "I dun know about you assholes, but I'm go'in home."

Ah.

"My house is further along. We can hunker down there. My house has a gate and everything!" The words rushed out before they registered, and Glenn blinked up at Dixon (why had he offered?) even as Dixon froze to turn and give him an icy stare. The girl had perked up even more. But this.. well...

Dixon's face was stone, "I am go'in home."

"You are, yes. But you can't right now. Let's go to my place and sit tight for a few hours. And when the police clear them out, we'll go on to your house. How about it? It.. it's lunch time. Let's get some food, water... My dad has some stuff. Metal baseball bats and all sorts of things! So you can save ammo and..." Glenn trailed off. He knew he could just go home, hunker down and wait for his family. He didn't need Dixon or the girl (but she would probably prefer to come with him then try to make it through that mess) but.. well..

The thought of going off alone terrified him.

And Dixon seemed to think that getting supplies was smarter then just barreling through.

".. Yur dad ever go huntin'?" Dixon asked, but the surliness was gone. Dixon motioned with his head for Glenn to take the lead. And Glenn was instantly off at a jog. He would go at whatever speed just to get away from the noises.

"Uh, not that I know..." Glenn answered after a second as he turned back to the street they were on and led the way. Dixon huffed but didn't reply. Instead of saying anything to fill up the sudden silence, Glenn just ran a little faster. The girl huffed along, but Glenn couldn't bring himself to slow down as the houses passed by. There were less people milling about like ants during a rainstorm the further along they got. Eventually Glenn turned up a private drive way and to the gate of his house.

Glenn rushed to the security panel and flipped the lid of the cover up—and he quickly typed in the code that unlocked the metal barred door that was built in to the little security area. The driveway gate remained shut. Glenn slipped through and motioned for the girl and Dixon in before he shut the door. He heard it lock, but he tested it just to be sure.

He turned around when Dixon gave a low whistle.

"... I didn' think you were a rich lil' fucker..." Dixon was staring up at Glenn's home. And Glenn felt his face get a little hot as he stared up at the house. It wasn't that impressive. He had lived here since.. well, since forever. It was a two floored home, large parking structure next to it. It was plantation styles and earthy looking with extensive gardens.

Glenn coughed to clear his throat. "Well.. um... yeah." Glenn shuffled a second before he started to hurry to the front door. He stuck a hand in to his bag and unclipped his key ring. He unlocked the metal security door and pulled that aside so that he could unlock the wooden door. He led his companions in and made sure both doors were closed and locked behind him.

He hung up his keys absently, and noticed that his parents' keys weren't hung up. They weren't home.

"Where is the bathroom?" The girl asked, whirling to face him.

"Ah, down the hall to the right." He pointed to a hallway to their left. She whirled around with a muttered thanks before disappearing. Glenn was left blinking for a moment before he turned to Dixon. The other was staring after the girl with a squinty look on his face. Glenn glanced down to his shoes as he toed them off... and saw that he had blood smears on his shirt from where he had wiped his bloodied hands off. "Yuck..." Glenn mumbled and checked his hands. They looked raw and were still a bit bloody.

Glenn looked up to Dixon again, and found that the other was watching him. "Um.. well, I... I'm going to the kitchen." He glanced down to Dixon's shoes, but didn't tell the other to take them off as he turned and headed off to the closet were the first aid kit was... and then he went to the kitchen.

Dixon didn't comment about anything. But since he had already called Glenn a 'rich fucker', well... Glenn could only imagine the other's mental thoughts as he evaluated Glenn's home. Especially the kitchen. His mother had had it remodeled and it just finished a month ago.

Glenn would have been worried about the other stealing... if there weren't those... Creeps outside.

So, he just went to the sink after depositing the kit on the kitchen island. Glenn stuck his hands under the hot water after a moment and hissed and the sudden and sharp stinging. Glenn's hands shook as he forced his hands together to rub out any dirt or tiny rocks. He eventually grabbed some soap, and hated the tears that welled up. Breathing in through his nose slowly, he let out his breaths slowly as he worked through it.

He heard the fridge door opening and after a while, it shutting. And then a chair at the kitchen island being pulled out. Glenn let out a breath and turned the water off and dried off his hands on a paper towel. He then pressed his palms to the damp part of the paper towel as he turned to look a the island.

Dixon was stuffing a sandwich in to his mouth, with all of the other condiments scattered around his part of the island. Glenn couldn't find it within himself to worry about the mess, even though his mother was a neat freak. Instead he dropped in to his own chair and went about finding the Neosporin and some band-aids.

The girl showed up a little bit after he had finished cleaning up his hands. Her hair was damp and her face was pink from being scrubbed. She didn't say anything as she eyed the items Dixon had brought out before making a sandwich of her own. Dixon had made a second sandwich and had fetched a beer from the fridge.

… Glenn made his own sandwich and ate it before going to the fridge and heating up some left overs. He liked Korean food, his mother could make it very good... and, well, he needed some comfort food.

Here they were, making a mess and stuffing their faces for the most part. Glenn had settled down with a fork and spoon and was soon slurping noodles. Dixon was slouched back in a chair with his beer and the girl... and sitting with her head down on the table with her arms pillowed around her head. Glenn didn't really know what they were going to do next. But here... at home, surrounded by his kitchen, eating... And with Dixon and his handgun nearby, he felt pretty safe.

Safer then he could ever recall being, really.

Glenn eventually showed Dixon to the garage where his dad kept his tools and let the other go at it. The girl had opted to remain in the kitchen, sipping at some hot chocolate. Glenn, after leaving Dixon... went to his room.

He used his alone time to change his shirt and to pull on a thin sports jacket. He emptied his bag out on his bed. School supplies dropping everywhere. His hat was inside, though. His favorite red and white one. He shoved that on and adjusted it to his head. He lifted his messenger bag—he needed to pack.. something. He was going with Dixon to Dixon's house in a few hours, after all.

But then he realized it was only a messenger bag. And it was always hard as hell to run with a messenger bag. "Tch.." Glenn hissed to himself and dropped his bag on his bed. He went to his closet and shuffled through before he hauled out one of the older bags he had been 'gifted'. It had clips in the front to clip it to your body. Easy to run in.

Glenn checked his jeans, made sure the belt was working before he stuck his wallet in to the back of his pants. From there, he zipped open his bag and looked around his room. What would he need? … spare shirt, since he got one messed up already. He rolled up a white t-shirt and tossed it in. Some socks... maybe some underwear. A lighter that he was holding for a friend at school. And then the pocket knife his dad had given him, that went in to the front pocket of his pants.

Ah, and a hand held game. Just in case. He tossed the PSP in to his bag, plus the charger. He added a few pens to the other pockets in case he needed it. He gave one last look...

"Ah, don't forget that..." Since his parents hadn't gotten him a cell phone, well... he picked up the wallet size photo album of his own and stuck it in to his bag. He would probably need to show pictures to the police later to help him find his parents. He had several photos of his family in there, so it was all he had found one more thing to add, Glenn took another moment to look around his room once more. And eventually he caught sight of his phone. Well, it was hooked up to the land line, but it was the phone that he had in his room.

He needed to call his parents. Glenn didn't pause as he moved and snatched the plastic phone from it's cradle. He knew his parent's phone numbers by heart. He dialed and then held the phone to his ear. He stared vacantly at his posters and just listened to the dial tone. And waited... and waited... And then...

"We're sorry. The number you have..." What didn't it matter, Glenn didn't bother to listen after the 'we're sorry'.

That had been his dad's number. So now he called his mother's number.

... same response.

... Glenn hung up the phone and set it back down. His gut felt like ice.

When his parents got home, he was so going to use this against them to make sure they got some kind of family plan. He had been pulling the 'what if there is a super big emergency' card on his parents for at least four months. His father had always scoffed at it and went on some rant about how nothing was ever going to happen. Well, this showed him, didn't it?

With that done, he turned and went to the door.

Well, he was going to leave his room, but...

He drew himself to the window. It was right next to his bed so he shoved some school supplies off and then crawled to the other side. He remained low and cracked open a single blind and peered out. His house was on a hill, and he was on the second floor. He normally had a good view of the high school.

Glenn froze... It was like... like...

Like ants.

He spotted the original police car line they had been at before and gulped... he didn't see the creeps being stopped at the line anymore. Glenn squinted hard and tried to see more of the road, but... well... the trees around his house eventually got in the way. Glenn slowly let the blinds fall back in to place and he backed away on the bed and stood up.

He backed up right in to someone else.

Glenn gasped and threw himself forward and back on to the bed even as his hands scrambled—he brandished the only thing he could grasp—his biology textbook.

… it was just Dixon.

With his unamused eyebrow raising.

Glenn let out a slow, slow breath and dropped the book from shaky hands. He couldn't even find words to speak, instead he just focused on breathing. Dixon frowned, and Glenn just shook his head. He was scared, and the other just snuck up on him! Who would do that? .. .well, apparently Daryl Dixon did.

"... " Dixon glanced between Glenn and the window before shoving the other aside and moving to peer out of the window in a similar fashion to how Glenn had done it. Glenn hopped off his bed and collected his supply bag and headed for the door to his room. He paused at the door and glanced around. He had posters up—for video games and movies and.. stuff. He had clothes here and there and some action figures scattered around.

It was very much his room.

He had never invited anyone to his room. And he realized that Daryl Dixon, the total opposite of everything that Glenn was... was in his room.

Glenn mentally groaned to himself—hopefully the other didn't bring up how... childish, his room was.

Dixon eventually extracted himself from the window and carefully got up from the bed. The red neck didn't say anything for a long moment before he turned to look at Glenn. Glenn didn't think the words were necessary for communication right that second. But... well...

"... let's just keep an eye out.." Dixon eventually gruffed before he slipped out of Glenn's bedroom and moved to go back downstairs. Glenn didn't say anything as he slowly pulled the door to his room shut.

… he hoped his parents came home soon.

And it was the part of him that wasn't in shock that snidely thought, 'if they're still alive'.

A/N; .. I have no reason, really. Other then I love Walking Dead. I finished this semester of school and I didn't fail anything. And I'm going to be studying abroad next semester, so I am excited. But yes, this here was made because I was inspired by some prompt about Daryl and Glenn being under-aged and all. I thought it was an alright idea, so I'm making my own. I don't know much where this is going, but I have time right now. This'll probably be a really short story, another two chapters at most I think. And maybe I'll finally get inspiration to actually read all the Naruto manga I have missed since I stopped reading it... a long time ago. Cheers... Hope this was enjoyable.