Notes: Dialogue taken from episode five from season one.
Sorry for any grammar mistakes... I need to go back through this so badly!
The morning finds the remaining survivors attempting to salvage what remains of their campsite while cleaning up the various bodies, human and walker alike, scattered across the ground. Glenn's currently helping T-Dog drag bodies into a pile so that they then can be burned; Daryl is off to the side swinging a pickaxe into the bodies' heads to make sure they're officially "dead" and remain that way. Glenn glances over at Andrea who is still kneeling on the ground next to Amy's body; even though he feels terrible (who didn't like Amy?), he knows someone is going to have to go over there and either do or say something about this situation. Eventually, "Amy" is going to come back; both Lori and Rick attempt to approach her, but ultimately fail in their endeavors. Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to his work.
"Wake up, Jimbo, we've got some work to do," Daryl says as he walks by, heading over to help Morales after he finishes up with the pickaxe.
When Glenn catches sight of his husband and Morales dragging the body of one of their former campmates toward the burn pile, he feels all of the despair from last night well up inside of him and he loses it, yelling at the both of them. "What are you guys doing? This is for geeks. Our people go over there!"
They both continue to drag the body as Daryl looks over his shoulder at him, "What's the difference? They're all infected."
Glenn steps forward and points, his voice trembling just a little, "Our people go in that row over there. We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there."
Morales and Daryl glance at each other before the two meet Glenn's eyes, but he refuses to back down on this. Thankfully, they merely reach down to drag the body over to the correct designated area. However, Daryl has clearly become frustrated at this point and begins yelling at the members of the camp. "You reap what you sow."
Morales snaps, "You know what? Shut up, man!"
"Y'all left my brother for dead. You had this coming," He snarls back, stomping off.
Distraught, Glenn hastily wipes his face before making to go after Daryl. He's interrupted by Jacqui's hysterical shouting about Jim being bit just as he's about to catch up with him. Startled, the remaining group members run over collectively with Daryl darting in first to lift Jim's shirt up to reveal a stark bite mark, despite Jim's continued protests of being okay.
As the group contemplates what to do with the Jim-situation, Daryl offers up his own opinion, "I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it."
"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane demands.
"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it."
"I hate to say it—I never thought I would—but maybe Daryl's right," Dale proposes hesitantly.
"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog," Rick objects.
"I'm not suggesting—" Dale protests, but Rick doesn't let him finish.
"He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"
"The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be," Daryl states.
"What if we can get him help? I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure," Rick offers.
"I heard that, too. I heard a lot of things before the world went to hell," Shane says.
"What if the C.D.C. is still up and running?" Rick implores.
Shane shakes his head slightly, "Man, that is a stretch right there."
"Why?" Rick questions. "If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection—"
"Okay, Rick," Shane interrupts, "You want those things, all right? I do, too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."
"That's 100 miles in the opposite direction," Lori butts in.
"That is right," Shane agrees. "But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me, if that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."
Rick disagrees. "The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that. The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance."
Daryl grips the pickaxe in his hand tightly. "You go looking for aspirin. Do what you need to do." He turns and starts making his way for Jim. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Rick shouts, running over to point his gun at Daryl to halt his motions. "We don't kill the living."
"That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head," Daryl snarks in reply.
Shane steps up between Daryl and Jim. "We may disagree on some things, not on this. You put it down. Go on."
Daryl disgustedly throws the pickaxe down and walks away from the two. Glenn sighs inwardly, not sure what's going to happen, but pretty sure he isn't going to like it either way. He watches silently as Rick moves Jim into the RV for now.
Somberly, the survivors gather around the holes that Rick and Shane previously dug to hold funerals for their fallen camp-mates; Glenn watches Andrea and Dale struggle with Amy's body in despair. Amy had finally reanimated and Andrea had put her sister down herself, unwilling to allow anyone else to do it. After the funerals, the group members split off to smaller groups to continue cleaning up the mess the remains of the camp is in. Dale, Shane and Rick head off to look for remaining walkers and ensure the safety of the campsite.
When the three return eventually, Shane calls everyone over for a group discussion. "I've been, uh—I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Now look, there are no—there are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"
That night, Glenn curls up inside his sleeping bag in the tent that he is now sharing with Daryl—no more Merle, no more babysitting, so no more being separate—and ponders their situation. Obviously, they're safer with larger numbers so staying with the group would be preferable; additionally, each member can contribute in ways that Glenn or Daryl may be unable to which would also be beneficial for them. Glenn's just not sure how he feels about this situation with Rick and the C.D.C. and Shane and Fort Benning. Then there's Daryl, who probably has his own (justifiable) reservations with this group and his hatred over the situation with Merle.
The next morning, once everyone (including Glenn and Daryl, who agreed they their best bet would be remaining with the group) has gathered around the caravan of vehicles with all of the supplies packed up and put away, Shane and Rick stand up in front of the group. Shane nods at Rick before he turns to address the group. "Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.s we're going to be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or nothing at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"
Morales hesitantly steps forward. "We're, uh..we're—we're not going." Everyone's just quiet until his wife finally speaks up. "We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people."
Shane responds with, "You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back," while Rick looks at the ground in the background.
"We'll take the chance. I got to do what's best for my family," Morales replies.
"You sure?" Rick questions.
"We talked about it," Morales affirms. "We're sure."
"Alright," Rick nods, before turning to Shane. He and Shane go through the weapons bag at their feet and eventually hand over a gun and some bullets to Morales—it isn't much, but it's something at least. When that's done, the group members tearfully say good-bye to one another and proceed to get into their designated vehicles. For now, Glenn is riding up front in the R.V. with Dale so that he can help out with directions (apparently no one else can read a friggin' map these days?) while Daryl will be driving their truck, Merle's motorcycle stashed in the bed (he was unwilling to give up that reminder of his brother, not that Glenn blames him). He presses a quick kiss to Daryl's mouth before swinging his way up into the R.V. and settling into the front seat opposite the driver's seat; he then spreads a map out on his lap and waits for the others to finish getting ready. With one last glance out the window, Dale starts up the R.V. and they pull out.
Once they've gone about ten miles or so, Glenn lets his head fall to rest on the passenger side window and allows his thoughts to drift. Maybe it's all of the horror from last night, but he can't help but think back to when this all 'started' for him—it had been such a normal morning, too.
["Blergh," Glenn mumbles out, rolling over to smack at the alarm clock that is cheerily messing up his once peaceful existence—and of course, it's only his existence; he narrows his eyes as he peers over his shoulder as his unaffected bed partner. Ridiculous, Glenn thinks, can't mutter a word under your breath from another room without him hearing, but god forbid an alarm clock be blaring right next to his head.
In retaliation Glenn slides one of his freezingly cold feet up—he forgot to wear socks to bed last night—and nudges it against the small of Daryl's back, taking vindictive delight in the fact that it startles him awake almost instantaneously, "The hell, kid?"
While Glenn may be in his twenties now, it's not like he ever actually grew up all that much (a fact that his eldest sister likes to point out incessantly). "Make me breakfast," Glenn requests loftily while digging his big toe into Daryl's back, not having removed his foot yet.
"Make yer own breakfast," Daryl retorts, his accent more apparent in his sleep-laden voice, and settles back down to return to sleep once he's shrugged off Glenn's questing foot.
"Yeah, not going to happen," Glenn freely admits, bodily rolling on top of his husband. "Daryl. Daaaaaryl. Daryl, Daryldaryldaryldaryl—"
"Christ!"
Sitting on the kitchen counter, victoriously enjoying both the piece of bacon in his hand and the sight of his husband suffering through the process of making waffles, Glenn almost startles off the counter at the sudden pounding on their apartment door. He eyes it warily, as though the door itself is going to suddenly sprout fangs and bite him; he'll be the first to admit that he and Daryl are not living in the best area and some of their neighbors are honestly quite sketchy. So it's not like they've been super on top of getting to know them, and it's unrealistic that said unknown-neighbors are that insistent about talking to either Daryl or Glenn. Thus, there's only one likely candidate on the other side of that door and just…no.
Glenn turns pleading eyes on Daryl only to be met with disdain as Daryl looks from himself to Glenn to the waffles with exaggerated slowness. "Fine!" He whines, hopping off the counter to head towards the door. "You have waffle mix in your hair!"
With a put upon sigh Glenn reaches the door and throws it open to reveal that his suspicions are correct: Merle's standing on the other side, fist raised in the air in an aborted attempt to pound on the door again. He eyes Merle warily as the man enters the room and Glenn is able to shut the door behind him; Merle's not as openly hostile to him anymore—not since he and Daryl apparently had a conversation about the fact that Glenn wasn't going anywhere (one would think their marriage would be proof of that) but Merle was more than welcome to if he couldn't accept that—nevertheless things aren't exactly best-friends-forever between them. Thankfully, he's saved from having to make conversation by Daryl's gruffly shouted 'Merle' from the kitchen's doorway.
He cautiously slips by Merle, who's still just stonily standing just inside the living room having some sort of silent conversation with Daryl via facial expressions and makes a beeline for the bedroom. He wastes a few minutes by straightening up the mess that is their sleeping-space—tossing dirty laundry in the hamper, putting his books back on the bookshelf, shoving Daryl's boots back into the closet—before finally flopping back onto the bed. Bored he may be but nothing is going to make him go back out there.
Not that Daryl leaves him much time to suffer anyway, storming into the room mere minutes later, barking "Get dressed. We're leavin'." over his shoulder.
"Wha…why?"
Instead of answering right away, Daryl goes to the closet and starts packing various articles of their stuff into two duffle bags; Glenn fidgets nervously behind him, only moving to get dressed once Daryl pauses and shot him a glare; when the duffle bags are stuffed full and Daryl has managed to change out of his own pajamas, he finally answers. "Things ain't gettin' any better."
Right. One might think that a little vague, however, Glenn was pretty sure he knew what his boyfriend was talking about: he assumes this has to do with that mystery illness that's causing people to go crazy and attack one another that's been all over the news. He and Daryl had been fighting over whether or not they should just go and stay out at Merle's (Daryl's old) house and get out of the city and away from the problem; Glenn hadn't completely wanted to for a number of reasons: he assumed that doctors were going to figure out whatever was affecting these people and get it straightened out, they both still had work and so far, it hadn't seemed all that bad.
Additionally, he hadn't wanted to put any more strain on the relationship between Daryl and Merle—his extended presence tended to do that. Daryl, on the other hand, had argued that it wasn't going to be safe for them to continue to stay here if things continued as they were—not knowing when or even if doctors were going to find anything out, how far this disease was going to spread—and they could always miss a few days of work. Guess whatever Merle and Daryl had been talking about had convinced the other man that things had, in fact, gotten to the point where he couldn't ignore them anymore.
"Okay," Glenn concedes then walks over to Daryl to place a hand on his arm. "We can do what you want to do."
Glenn has been in some pretty awkward situations in his life, he's sure everyone has at some point or another, but he's pretty sure this takes the cake: he's currently squished in between his sweaty redneck husband and his husband's older, racist, redneck brother who probably wishes he didn't exist in this very moment (or at any moment, if one is being honest) in the front seat of a truck that was clearly not meant for three adult men. To make matters worse, they're currently stuck in an enormous traffic jam as it appears they're not the only ones trying to leave the city. Yet, when Glenn looks across the highway, he notices that just as many people are trying to get into the city; Glenn's not exactly sure which situation is better, but he trusts Daryl and Daryl seems to think that they need to leave.
Since traffic has come to a standstill, Glenn pushes at his boyfriend's side to get him to step out of the car—there's no point in all three of them staying in the truck if they're not moving and Glenn isn't really willing to subject himself to Merle any more than necessary. Daryl apparently agrees as he puts the truck in park before cutting the engine; Glenn scoots across the seat and out the door after him as he exits, slamming the door closed behind them.
Glancing around, he notices some people moving towards the forested area that overlooks Atlanta; with a thoughtful hum he looks back at the truck to make sure Merle is still with it—he is—before pulling Daryl along after them to see what's gotten everyone so interested.
Horrified, Glenn leans back into Daryl's safe embrace and watches as the helicopters continue to drop napalm on what was once his home. He feels his husband's arms come up around his middle and Glenn tightens his grip almost painfully on them; if they hadn't left when they did with Merle, they would still be down there in that nightmare.
Daryl leads him away through the forest and back toward the road, the truck and Merle as Atlanta burns behind them. They can't stay here any longer.]
They haven't been traveling very long on the road when the R.V. breaks down, forcing both Glenn out of his reverie and the entire caravan to come to a halt. Dale grumbles quietly to himself as he exits the vehicle and makes his way to the front where it's steaming to start examining the extent of the damage. When Rick makes his way to the front of the R.V. to ask about repairs and timeframes, Dale complains about how he needed the part from Rick's cube-van (that Merle stole) from before; Luckily, Shane mentions that he may have noticed a gas station, or at least something helpful, up ahead; he offers to go, T-Dog stepping up to act as back-up, to go looking for parts once Dale decides that he may be able to fix it. Meanwhile, Jacqui comes out to inform everyone that Jim's health has gotten worse, much to everyone's dismay.
Rick goes in to check on Jim, leaving everyone else outside. Glenn anxiously wanders over to Daryl who's chosen to settle himself on the back of his truck; he's gnawing on his thumbnail, a nervous habit he falls back into occasionally. Glenn slaps at his hand scoldingly before lacing their fingers together and resting his head on Daryl's shoulder; it may make him a horrible person, but he's incredibly glad that neither one of them are in Jim's situation.
Maybe Rick will turn out to be right and they'll get to the C.D.C. and they'll have figured out some way to cure, or at least combat, whatever this virus is. If not either of those things, maybe it'll be a place that's safe, a place to rest for a while. But if not…but if not and he ends up in Jim's situation, Glenn has to know that Daryl will…do what has to be done. While he was certainly ready to step up to the task earlier with Jim and Amy's body, it's a different situation with someone that you love.
"D-Daryl," he begins, swallowing with some difficulty as he feels his husband's grip on his hand tighten. "You know that if I ever get infec—that if this ever happens to me—"
"It ain't gonna."
"You can't promise that!"
"I can sure as hell do what I can to make sure it doesn't happen," he persists, gaze going steely.
"You just have to promise me that you'll do what you have to do. I can't be the one that ends up hurting you."
"Like I said," Daryl continues to argue, leaning forward to press his forehead against Glenn's. "It ain't gonna happen."
"But—" Unfortunately, Rick chooses that moment to come back out and motion for the adults to come over, including Shane and T-Dog who have returned at this point; Dale assures the rest of them that he can indeed fix the R.V., enough for them to reach the C.D.C. at any rate, with what they've managed to find. Sighing deeply and knowing that he'll have to return to this conversation with Daryl sooner rather than later, he hops off the truck-bed and tugs Daryl over in the direction of Rick.
Rick informs everyone that Jim has requested that he be left here rather than continue on to the C.D.C. with the rest of them; Dale and Lori both advocate respecting Jim's wishes which ultimately moves the rest of the group into complying. They carry Jim up a small hill on the side of the road and settle him beneath the shade of a large tree in attempts to make him as comfortable as possible. Everyone says their good-byes and Jim refuses a gun when Rick offers him one. As the group disperses, solemnly making their way back to their individual vehicles, Dale begins his task of fixing the R.V.; they're back on the road to continue on their way to the C.D.C. as soon as they are able.
"Jesus," Glenn breathes out in a sort of morbid awe as he takes in the sight in front of him when the caravan finally pulls to a stop near the C.D.C. building. The area around the building is in ruins, with bodies scattered everywhere—and what looks like evidence of another military cordon being overrun. He glances over to share a worried look with Dale before preparing to depart from the vehicle.
He opens the door and steps outside with Jacqui behind him, rifle (guess that bag of guns was worth it after all) in his hands in case he needs in. He feels the familiar sadness well up inside him at the sight of so much loss and devastation but also the disgust at what humanity's been reduced to. He's never been more thankful that he's still managed to have his family—Daryl—than in moments like these, so he looks towards the back of the group to meet Daryl's eyes before following after Rick who's started toward the C.D.C. building in the distance. Everyone quietly maneuvers around the bodies, trying to suppress their coughing and gag reflexes.
Shane whispers, "All right, everybody, keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let's go."
Over the buzzing of what has to be hundreds of flies and various other insects, Glenn hears Rick also instructing everyone to: "Okay, keep moving. Stay together," and Shane's incessant shushing. Thankfully, they haven't seen any Walkers up and moving around yet.
Oh, god. Glenn internally gags, stumbling into Daryl slightly as he tries to avoid stepping on the various bodies scattered literally everywhere and suffers a close call. Daryl reaches out to steady him before encouraging him to continue moving forward. Telling himself that it'll be over soon, he focuses harder on where he's walking as the group makes its way closer to the front doors of the building and around the huge tanks the military was obviously forced to leave behind.
"Keep it together. Come on."
Shane and Rick reach the metal-shuttered doors of the building first. They both check around but find them locked. "Nothing?" Rick questions.
Shane uselessly tries to shove the shutters up before turning to pound on the door, hoping for someone inside to hear him. Rick hisses through his teeth as he looks around, noticing that it's starting to get dark outside.
"There's nobody here," T-Dog accuses.
Rick counters with: "Then why are these shutters down?"
Glenn jerks as Daryl suddenly forces him behind him, before shouting a warning out to the group, "Walkers!" He fires off an arrow, which lands directly in the forehead of a walker stumbling its way toward them, effectively ending it as an active threat. "You led us into a graveyard!
"He made a call!" Shane shouts, defending Rick.
"It was the wrong damn call!"
This pisses Shane off. "Just shut up. You hear me? Shut up. Shut up!" He yells, grabbing hold of Daryl to shove him back. Then, he turns back to Rick, "Rick, this is a dead end."
Carol chooses this moment to ask, "Where are we gonna go?"
"Do you hear me? No blame," Shane continues.
"She's right. We can't be here. This close to the city after dark," Lori exclaims.
"Fort Benning, Rick—still an option," Shane says.
"On what? No food, no fuel. That's 100 miles!" Andrea snaps, frustrated.
"125. I checked the map," Glenn butts in, because really. If they're going to start complaining about that, they can at least get it right.
"Forget Fort Benning," Lori shouts, "We need answers tonight, now."
"We'll think of something," Rick says, finally taking his attention off the building to look at Lori.
"Come on, let's go!" She says, pulling on him.
Other members of the group, Shane included, start pleading about leaving and going. As Rick seems to finally relent and they begin to back up, Shane starts directing everyone back to the cars. Glenn follows Daryl's, who has already started in that direction, lead without Shane's approval, crossbow up and ready. However, they both freeze when Rick suddenly exclaims, "The camera—it moved."
"You imagined it," Dale says.
"It moved," Rick protests stubbornly and moves back toward the building.
Fed up, Shane moves back to his side. "Rick, it is dead, man. It's an automated device, it's gears, okay? They're just winding down. Now, come on." He starts to pull Rick back, but he struggles against his grip. "Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? You need to let it go, Rick. Rick there's nobody here!"
Breaking out of his grip, Rick runs up and pounds on the shuttered door again, "I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. Please, we're desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left. We have nowhere else to go."
"Keep your eyes open," Shane hisses out to the others, then once again turns back toward Rick. Glenn looks at Daryl, biting his lip nervously—they really, really need to be doing something, preferably not standing out in the open attracting more and more walkers.
Rick continues his assault on the building and pays no attention to Shane, or anyone else for that matter: "If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please!"
Shane, finally having enough, grabs Rick around the middle and proceeds to forcefully drag him back in the direction of the cars, despite Rick's continued pleading. "Come on, buddy, let's go." Just as Shane turns and shoves Rick hard in the direction of the rest of the group, the shuttered door finally opens up behind them and bathes them all in light.