AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"It's not that simple," Glenn said.
"It ain't that damned complicated," Daryl said, laughing to himself.
Sometimes Daryl considered Glenn practically a kid and, at that moment, he was a kid that looked more than a little annoyed over the fact that Daryl had practically trapped him while he was mucking out a horse stall.
"I don't think you understand," Glenn said.
"I don't think I do, either," Daryl agreed. "So why don't you enlighten my ass an' give me a better shot at gettin' it?"
Glenn huffed in frustration, but Daryl was unmoved. He had a toddler. He was more than capable of waiting out some frustration. He could stand there, hardly feeling tense it all, if Glenn were to throw himself to the ground, kick and scream, and wail while he rolled around in the hay.
"It's everything that's been going on," Glenn said.
"Everything…" Daryl offered, prompting Glenn to give him more information.
"With Woodbury," Glenn said. "The whole—Governor thing and what do we do with the people? Everyone's really focused right now on…on who's going to come in and who might be leaving. All anyone's talking about is how things might change around here."
"Electricity and running water means a lot," Daryl said. "But I still don't see why the hell that means you can't enjoy a little holy matrimony."
"If we get married while everyone's focused on the changes around here," Glenn said, "then it means the wedding becomes just another thing that happens."
"That's all the hell a wedding is ever gonna be," Daryl said. "It's just another thing that happens."
"It's more important than that," Glenn said.
"Not really," Daryl said. "It ain't. I mean—it is to you 'cause you the one who got married. But it don't really mean shit to the rest of the world. Weren't no damn different in the past, neither. You talkin' about some fancy ass weddings and all—country club variety—and you still talkin' about somethin' that don't matter. Hell—I crashed a couple. People show up. Get shitfaced off your open bar. Throw some birdseed and move the fuck on. Two years later they don't remember a single damn thing about it except if somebody done somethin' like throwed up in the bushes."
"You were a wedding crasher?" Glenn asked.
Daryl frowned at him.
"I get the feeling you don't listen to me sometimes," Daryl offered in response.
Glenn threw his hands up in mock surrender.
"I hear you," he said. "I understand what you're saying. Personally, I don't think I care. Not really. About the wedding, I mean. I mean—maybe I would've cared that it was what my mother wanted, but…" He stopped when Daryl shifted his weight and did his best to silently communicate with him that he wasn't interested in tripping down memory lane with him. "I don't care about the wedding," Glenn clarified, "but women are different. Women really care about that stuff. It's really important."
"Not all women," Daryl said. "Listen—Carol don't care about no wedding. She don't give a shit about—about no flowers or cake or even if you even fuckin' show up. She's just wantin' me to put that ring on her finger in front of Hershel an' promise to her and God and everybody that'll listen that I'ma be married to her forever. It ain't about some stupid wedding for her. It's about—being able to say we married."
"So do it quietly," Glenn said with a shrug. "Get married in your cell or…whatever."
"I didn't say it don't matter to me," Daryl said. "I don't want the whole thing Maggie's worried about, but I sure as hell want a couple damn minutes where everybody just acknowledges they hear what we're saying. That we're gonna spend the rest of our lives—however long that might be—dedicated to each other. I want a couple minutes where they acknowledge that I'm not just some sonofabitch—that I'ma make an honest woman outta Carol. That Sophia's my daughter as much as she possibly can be. That this baby—it ain't no bastard born outta wedlock."
Glenn laughed to himself. He scoffed, really. He still held onto the pitchfork that he'd been using to support himself since Daryl had drawn his attention away from his work and demanded that they have the conversation that Glenn didn't really want to have. Glenn leaned toward Daryl.
"I don't think anybody's questioning your commitment to Carol," Glenn said. "I don't think—I don't think anyone really remembers or realizes the two of you aren't married. It's not like we're running around the prison wondering when exactly you're going to turn her into an honest woman or whatever. You don't even have to marry her. I think everyone just considers it done."
"If it's all the same to you," Daryl said, "I'd like to actually marry her an' make her my wife. Don't mean to inconvenience you with that practice or anything…"
"But it is an inconvenience," Glenn said.
"I don't see how me marryin' the woman that's mama to my daughter and carryin' my other kid is something that's just gonna up and ruin your whole damn life!" Daryl growled.
"Maggie wants a wedding," Glenn said.
"Then let her have a damn wedding!" Daryl barked. "Let her have two or three. Let her get married every damn day of a whole fuckin' week if it makes her happy. I don't give a shit. We'll celebrate the month of Maggie's fuckin' weddings if it makes her happy."
Glenn made something of a growling noise of absolute frustration at Daryl and Daryl echoed it. One of the horses had peeked his head in to see what was going on, but he'd quickly left them. Apparently, there was enough frustration radiating off of both of them that it smelled the barn up with a level of uncomfortableness that made the equine content to take a walk and let it air out before he came in inquiring about fresh hay.
"If you get married first," Glenn said, "and you have some kind of wedding, then it ruins the whole thing."
"That's the stupidest damn thing I ever heard!" Daryl barked. "And I heard a lotta stupid shit in my life!" He added, just to make sure that Glenn understood the gravity of the situation.
For a moment they faced off with each other, both of them nearly panting with frustration. Slowly, they relaxed.
"There hasn't been a wedding in our group," Glenn said. "Not ever. There's been—established marriages. There's been a baby. But there hasn't been a wedding. The first wedding will be special. Everyone will remember the first wedding after the world got turned upside down. They'll remember—the wedding that gave them all hope."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"I don't know if you're givin' people too much credit or weddings too much credit," Daryl said. "They gonna remember it, yeah. Gonna somewhat remember all of 'em. You think they ain't gonna remember my kid got borned because Judith done it first? They gonna remember the runnin' water, too, but it don't mean that only the first shower counts."
"It's a big deal to Maggie that we have the first wedding," Glenn said. "She feels like—it'll be special."
"I hope to hell she feels like gettin' married to you would be special no matter what. Hell—Carol would marry me standin' knee deep in cow shit."
"Then marry her knee deep in cow shit and let us have the first wedding! It won't matter to her! It'll matter to Maggie!"
The fight could continue for days. They could go around and around and never get anywhere. It didn't matter how long they did this, neither would yield. No matter Daryl's personal feelings on the young couple's view of things, the fact remained that Glenn was fighting for the woman that he loved to have what she wanted, and Daryl was fighting for the woman he loved to have what she wanted. Neither of them was going to yield before they died of old age.
"Let me put this another damn way," Daryl said. "You an' Maggie want the first wedding. That's fine. We said it was. But you've had time."
"The timing hasn't been right," Glenn said. Daryl held his hand up to stop Glenn from diving back into water that he'd already tread before and rehashing the whole thing again.
"Either the wedding being first is the most important thing or the timing is the most important thing," Daryl said, "but not every damn thing can be the most important thing. So you figure out what matters the most. If it's the bein' first part, then you won't care when it happens 'cause people gonna remember it forever an' ever 'cause it was first. If it's the timing? Won't matter how many people get married 'cause you got married in that sweet, sweet spot that was so damned perfect that people was talkin' about it for ages. But you figure that shit out. Because I don't know what Maggie wants, but I know what Carol wants."
"And why should that be any more important than what Maggie wants?" Glenn asked.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Because she's my soon-to-be-wife and I care about what she wants," Daryl said. "And she's ready for us to be married."
"Well Maggie's my soon-to-be-wife," Glenn challenged.
"Difference is," Daryl said, "that I don't give a shit about what Maggie wants."
"I'm tired of what we want not mattering," Glenn said.
"Like you so damn put out?" Daryl asked, the hair on the back of his neck prickling a little.
"We wanted to be the first to have a baby," Glenn said.
"Rick and Lori jumped all over that one," Daryl said.
"After Rick and Lori," Glenn said. "But that's not going to happen. Now you're wanting to push us out of being the first to get married."
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Ain't nobody pushin' you outta shit," Daryl said. "But what you're wanting ain't to matter. What you're wanting is to be first. And the worst damn part about it is both y'all go around draggin' your feet and then you wanna be pissed that everybody didn't just put their lives on hold for you to get around to what nobody even knew you cared about. You can be first—hell, Carol and I both had plenty of practice bein' fuckin' invisible. We're content to keep doin' it. But we sure as shit ain't gonna apologize for this baby. And you better get a damn move on if you wanna get married 'fore we do."
There was another silent standoff between the two of them, and then Glenn relaxed a little and sighed.
"I want her to have the wedding she wants," Glenn said. "I just—I want her to have the life she wants. All of it. Everything I can give her. Anything I can give her."
Daryl laughed.
"Hell—I understand that," Daryl said. "And we ain't tryin' to fuck up your life and I don't want you an' Maggie to miss out on shit that makes you happy."
"But you don't want us to be happy at your expense," Glenn said.
"I won't apologize for our kid," Daryl said. "Weren't like we made it to spite you. But it's the best damned thing that's happened to us and…I just ain't gonna say sorry about a single damn thing when it comes to neither that baby or Sophia. If it inconveniences you, you're a big boy and you can learn to handle it."
"We're not mad about the baby," Glenn assured him. "We're both so happy for you guys."
"You the one that brung it up," Daryl said.
"But I didn't mean it," Glenn said. "I mean—I meant it, but I didn't mean it. It's just—I think Maggie's starting to get kind of sad that things aren't what they used to be. The whole wedding thing, I mean. I think she had some idea of what her wedding would be like and…"
"It just ain't that world no more," Daryl said.
"It sure isn't," Glenn agreed.
"But that ain't gonna change," Daryl said. "Fact of the matter is that Carol is pregnant. Now—she's got some feelings that's kinda all over the place right now, but she don't like you pointing it out. She's wantin' to be married. And I'm more than ready to be married to her. You want some big fancy-dancy wedding for Maggie? Hell—I'll help you get ready for it or whatever. But if you're going first? You better get your shit together. And I mean quick. It ain't gonna be much. A lil' bitty ceremony where we say some vows and hope y'all happy for us. But it's happenin' day after tomorrow." Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry—but we waited. We're done waiting now. So—you can tell Maggie to piss or get off the pot. Because day after tomorrow? I'm makin' Carol my wife for God an' every asshole at this prison to see."