CHAPTER 9

In Which: News of Glenn's death is greatly exaggerated and Daryl needs to verify this fact.


It was early evening by the time they made it back to camp. Daryl strutted right to the center, apparently caught up in one of his rare sociable moods.

"Light a fire, sistas!" he crowed, holding the beaver aloft by its tail and giving it a good shake. "We got us a big sumbitch!"

Glenn trailed behind in the shadows, breathing hard and nearly tripping over a tree root, exhaustion diminishing his reflex time. Even though he was in good physical shape, his body was built more for speed than endurance. Didn't help that Daryl had decided to make him the pack mule, insisting that he carry the rest of the game. Said it was good for him. Asshole.

"Daryl man, we got us a problem," he heard Shane say somewhere up ahead. "Glenn's gone missin'."

"Since yesterday morning," bitched Andrea, somehow making three innocent words sound like she was accusing him of murder, her only real talent. "I saw him heading towards your camp at dawn."

"Tell us, Daryl. Have you seen him?" asked Dale slowly, cautiously. "I fear the worst may have happened. The boy was injured and in no condition to go off on his own."

"Now I know it's no concern o' yours," Rick added politically, "but we gotta look out for each other. He's one of us and if you know somethin' I'd appreciate you sharin' it."

Glenn watched Daryl swivel around towards each speaker in turn, growing confusion and indignation evident on his face.

"What's wrong with all y'all?" the redneck finally shouted, throwing up an arm in anger. "There ain't nothin' wrong with him!" He sent a sharp look in Glenn's direction, gesturing with his chin to get-the-fuck-over-here.

Glenn scrambled to comply and stepped tentatively into the newly flickering firelight. "Uh, hey guys." Everyone stared and he scratched his neck awkwardly. "Maybe I should have mentioned that I was going with Daryl, but it was kind of a spur of the moment thing."

Shane made an irritated noise and muttered something about, "goddamn waste of my time," before clomping away. Andrea rolled her eyes dramatically in self-righteous disgust. Rick looked relieved in an 'inconvenient crisis averted' sort of way.

"I'm just glad you're okay, son," said Dale kindly, clapping Glenn on the shoulder while his eyebrows convulsed in a highly disturbing manner. Glenn hid a wince as Dale's fingers dug into the bruises Daryl had made the previous night.

"We all are," agreed Rick, clapping his other shoulder with an even more painful grip. "You're the best town runner we got, the group wouldn't be the same without you."

Daryl shoved Glenn hard with his shoulder, effectively putting himself between the Asian and the older men. Glenn didn't know if the guy did it to be an ass or if he saw his discomfort, either way he was grateful.

"You wanna keep jerkin' him off or do you wanna start fillin' these folks' stomachs? Fuckers won't cook themselves." Daryl waved the beaver in Rick's face, who grimaced.

Glenn flushed darkly and stared at his shoes. He'd kind of liked it, to be honest. His dad died so long ago that he didn't even remember what he looked like and their praise was addictive. Of course Daryl had to make it weird and ruin it.

The drama was soon forgotten, however, over the excitement of fresh food. Everyone dug in with gusto, especially the little ones who had to be shushed multiple times for squeeling too loudly. Glenn wasn't a kid person, but even he had to admit they were pretty cute. He patted the little Hispanic girl on the head when she shyly approached to thank him for dinner. He assumed this was okay because she beemed at him before scampering back to her mother.

"Shzz nah dah," Daryl said around a mouthful of food, suddenly materializing next to him out of the darkness.

"Yeah, I have no idea what you just said."

The hunter's adams apple rolled as he swallowed half-chewed food. "I said she's not a dog. You don't just pet 'em on the head."

"She didn't seem to mind," Glenn defended, fully prepared for another verbal battle.

Daryl just shook his head resignedly and sat down beside him, taking a bite of food that was three times the amount considered acceptable in polite society. They ate in companionable silence, idly listening to the steady murmur of conversation around them, only broken by the occasional, quickly stifled laugh.

Daryl mumbled something under his breath. Glenn ignored him and continued to peacefully people-watch. Daryl mumbled something else a fraction louder. It was only the short glance the man aimed in his direction that made Glenn wonder if the mumble was actually aimed at him too.

"Are you talking to me? Because even a Vulcan wouldn't be able to hear you, much less any of the others."

"I said," Daryl ground out, apparently with great difficulty. "What's wrong with your shoulders."

Glenn was surprised. Daryl had noticed his discomfort earlier without being aware of the cause. "When you were attacked last night, you grabbed me pretty hard. Don't worry about it though, it's fine."

Daryl looked intensely unconvinced. "You should prob'ly get it looked at."

"Look, I said don't worry about it. Pretty sure it's just bruising so I'll be good as new in a couple days."

But Daryl had already stood, licking grease off his fingertips. "Come on," he said in a tone that left no room for argument and started walking towards his tent.

Glenn scowled into the fire but sullenly rose and made his way to Daryl's smaller camp, pointedly ignoring the curious looks being sent his way. Talk about deja vu.

Daryl was just starting a fire in his own pit by the time Glenn got there. "Go on inside," he said casually, gesturing to his unzipped tent with his head, eyes still trained on his task.

"Err," Glenn replied intelligently. "Inside?"

"What I said. Unless you wanna take off your shirt right here."

Glenn shifted in agitation, feeling like the situation had swiftly spiraled out of his control. "Is... Is that really necessary?"

Daryl stood in one fluid motion and stepped right up into Glenn's personal space, shoulders arching slightly to create the illusion of added height and bulk. "Inside. Now."

"Alright, alright! Geez. You're such a baby when you don't get your way."

He quickly ducked inside and took off his shirt to avoid the inevitable reaction to that, hearing spluttering outside that one could only assume to be rage induced.

"You know, I'm a highly rational man," he only partially lied, neatly folding his shirt and placing it on top of a gun case against the far wall. "If you have good reasons, all you have to do is say them instead of going all alpha and," he turned back around to find Daryl staring him down from six inches away, "and uh..." he swallowed, "and stuff..."

Daryl broke eye contact to examine his left shoulder, prodding gently at the dark bruise there. "Stuff, huh?"

"What?"

Daryl bent his head and pressed on his coracoid process that wasn't visibly bruised but hurt like holy fuck when he did that. "Alpha and stuff?"

"Yeah," said Glenn, struggling to remember what he had been talking about as Daryl moved to the right side, knuckles brushing along the clavicle as Glenn shifted.

Daryl shrugged and their shoulders brushed lightly with the movement. "Dunno, my way seems to work just fine. I think," he paused as the pads of his fingers repeated the process on the other side, "that you're just sayin' that cuz you can't do it."

"Dude, I don't even know what we're talking about anymore. This is too weird, are you done?"

Daryl frowned deeply and nodded, taking three steps back and averting his gaze. "You got a bruised bone. It'll heal on it's own jus' fine, but it'll take longer 'n hurt more."

Glenn grabbed his shirt and hastily threw it on over his head. Then he lingered and fidgeted, feeling guilty. "Daryl..."

"We're done here. Get out."

"But-"

"I said get the fuck out!"

Glenn ran.

Daryl clenched his fists, but otherwise didn't move. Ten minutes later he laid down and fell into a new night terror.


Monkey see, monkey do
I don't know why
I'd rather be dead than cool
I don't know why
Less is more, love is blind
I don't know why

Stay
Stay away

"Stay Away" by Nirvana