"Hey"

I blinked my eyes open and stared up at Glenn standing over me.

"I thought I saw you over here. Can I sit?"

I nodded, narrowing my eyes slightly. He's never asked before— he shouldn't even feel the need to. What's going on?

He planted himself next to me and I sat up, giving the most prompting look I could muster.

He avoided my gaze before sighing, running a hand over his face.

"What would you do if you knew something —that someone else doesn't want anyone to know— but another someone wants everyone to know? And this is something you know everyone should know— but you don't wanna betray the person who doesn't want everyone to know."

Wow. That wasn't convoluted at all.

If I had to guess the expression I'm making, it's nothing short of unreadable.

But to answer that, question...? It would entirely depend on what this something is.

If it's personal and not my decision to make, I wouldn't get involved. If it's gonna start drama, I wouldn't say anything. If it was confided in me, I wouldn't intervene unless I had to. If it's not my place to say anything, I wouldn't.

However, if it's harmful to themselves, another person, or to me, there's a solid chance I would take action. If someone's life was at stake because of this secret, I couldn't just sit by.

I might not say anything about it, but I would definitely do something— not without thinking it through.

But I get the feeling there's more to this than that.

If it were a simple decision between keeping a secret and blabbing, I don't think he'd have need of my consultation. So what could be tearing him up enough he needs help?

I blinked, shifted, licked my lips, and peered at him until he grew uncomfortable enough to cut the bullshit.

You're so easy to read, Ace. You should've known I wouldn't buy that earful.

A sighed groan rushed from Glenn's mouth as he tucked his head between his knees and laced his fingers behind his noggin; Not even caring his cap was about to take a dive for the grass.

"I don't know what to do."

Gasp, if I'd had a million guesses, I never would'a gotten that.

He looks like he's depressed. Oh Hell no, that's not gonna fly.

Both of us cannot be feeling like underwater wind chimes. Not today. You're supposed to be the optimistic skittle-spitter here.

I whacked his knee with mine and slung my arm across his shoulders, attempting to lighten the mood, if only a little.

Taking a sharp breath, Glenn locked eyes with me.

"Don— Don't freak out and don't tell anybody —not that you would do either— but, uh..."

He swallowed, adjusting his cap nervously.

"Out with it, Ace. What's eating you?"

"Lori's pregnant, and the barn's full of walkers."

…...

I glanced between the barn, and over my shoulder to the camp at our backs where everyone was by the fire, presumably having dinner.

I turned back to the barn, and looked at Glenn.

"...Oh fu—"

I sat in a camping chair in front of the campfire, looking at everyone and trying to anticipate how they're going to react to this. All I can say right now is...this is not gonna go over well.

Glenn and I agreed not to tell them tonight, for a number of reasons, including it'll go better if they've all had some sleep. But tomorrow morning, this camp is gonna turn into a kicked wasp's nest.

Daryl glanced at me for the 12th time in the last ten minutes. I think he knows something's up.

If I give him the chance to press— he'll get what he wants. He's like Merle that way.

Must run in the family.

I just hope he doesn't zero in on Glenn, because he will not be able to keep his mouth shut against Daryl. He'll spill like a floodgate.

Shifting, I cracked my neck, and caught something out of the corner of my eye.

Elbowing Glenn, I pointed and he reached over, grabbing it for me.

It's been a long time since I had one of these in my hands.

I rested the sleek wood on my thigh. I plucked each string sequentially and cringed. The iron strings feel good under my fingers but that sound.

Egh, this guitar is in desperate need of tuning.

It's been a long time since I've had to tune a guitar by ear. Let's see how rusty I am, shall we?

I spent 5 minutes tuning it to the best of my ability, before stretching my fingers, and popping my knuckles.

Hmm, what do I remember how to play?

Enter sandman— but that only really sounds right with an electric guitar.

That takes Metallica out...and, most everything I remember how to play. Well, I know what I'm looking for next time there's a run.

Come on, I've gotta know something that'll sound good acoustically...

Ooo— maybe Metallica isn't out.

Positioning my fingers, I gave the strings one last strum to make sure they resonated well.

My finger callouses are almost completely gone. Who knew that could happen in only a few months— well technically it's been several months.

Starting slowly, I eased into Nothing Else Matters. The very first Metallica song I mastered. I practiced everyday for months to learn this.

My fingers danced over the fretboard as if I'd never stopped playing. Everything coming back as I went; like remembering the next verse in a song right before you're supposed to sing it.

I've missed this.

Moving my hands like this has never felt so good before. Or maybe it always felt like this but every time feels like the first time.

That rush you get caught up in as you play. You can't help but move with it.

Nothing else around you exists when these strings vibrate.

It's a good thing I'm a solid fingerpicker. Arguably I'm better at fingerpicking than with an actual guitar pick. It feels so much more natural to use my fingers instead of a piece a plastic. But lord do I miss my thumb pick right now.

I almost forgot how chaffing the strings are without callouses.

I glanced up when something shifted at the top of my downcast vision.

It was Carl sitting on the ground in front of me; between me and the fire, watching my hands with.

Finishing off the final portion, I looked up to find everyone paying closer attention than I'd anticipated.

"You, my dear" Dale smiled at me, taking a seat on the other side of Glenn. "Are full of surprises."

"Can you play another?" Carl looked up at me with a childish wonder I feared he didn't have anymore.

I glanced at Rick and Lori, on the other side of the fire, smiling. Everyone's smiling for once.

My lip quirked up as I licked them and I leaned over to ruffle his hair before shaking out my wrist and repositioning my fingers.

What kind of song would a kid like Carl wanna hear?

He doesn't strike me as a hip hop sorta kid —not that I could play that in the first place— but he probably won't be as interested in most of what I know.

Wait, why does it matter? It's not like he's gonna know what it is anyway. Unless…

I couldn't help the devious little smirk as I started again. No one will likely recognize this song straight away, but just a few seconds in, when I hit those notes, I saw the recognition on every single face here.

You can't go wrong with Pirates of the Caribbean.

As time went on, I played progressively slower, calmer songs; almost putting everyone to sleep in their chairs but it wasn't until Carl actually fell asleep that I stopped and most everyone meandered back to their tents to actually sleep.

I went to hand Glenn his guitar back and he waved his hand.

"Keep it. No one else knows how to play— except you apparently."

I nodded in thanks, and gave him a pat on the shoulder as we separated to head to our own tents. I waved goodnight to my "neighbors" as we all slipped inside our own abodes for the night.

Zipping up the door, I carefully put my guitar to rest and went through the motions of taking my gear off, setting it all in a pile right next to where I sleep.

I should see if I can find a case for it, soon. I mean I could probably go find a guitar in just about any music store now, but I'd rather avoid going into a place covered in things that make loud noises if I can help it. As much as I like to play, it's actually dangerous.

Dropping to my hands and knees and feeling my way to my sleeping bag, I moved around until I found my backpack and dug through it, finding my small LED flashlight.

I clicked the tiny light on and found my spare clothes, changing before laying down.

I sighed, staring at the ruffling roof of my tent. The slightest breeze makes the flimsy material move.

A chill ran up my spine and I shimmied deeper into my sleeping bag.