SAFE

Chapter 3

Glenn was having trouble sleeping again. It had been more than a month since the Dixons had swooped in to his rescue like a couple of racist, smelly, foul-tempered guardian angels. Some nights he managed to sleep like the dead, (well, better than the dead he supposed)- others (like tonight) he became restless and irritable over the smallest things. Tonight it was his tent-mate, who would not stop moving.

The kid wasn't half bad really, a fifteen year old named Laurence who insisted in being called Peyton. He and Amy had both glommed onto Glenn, who at 26 was both old enough to definitely be considered a full blown grown-up, and boyish enough that they felt they could relate to him. Glenn bridged the gap between the adults and the two teens who were constantly being lumped with the younger children. Andrea was the next youngest at 28 but she tended to treat 19 year old Amy like she was 12, and the youngest after that was Daryl at 32. He probably would have had no problem with Amy and Peyton having guns and going on patrol, but then, he would advocate Carl getting a semi-automatic if he actually bothered to give a shit, so the "parents" were unlikely to take his advice seriously.

Peyton was alone at the camp like Glenn, meaning there was no-one there from his former life. His parents had been having a weekend getaway when the shit hit the fan, he'd holed himself inside and didn't make a peep for two weeks. Peyton had completely lucked out because the Morales's had stopped to barricade themselves in his house for the night before they made their final push to Atlanta. They had found him cowering in the corner of his parents' walk in closet surrounded by junk food wrappers, clutching white-knuckled to a BB gun and praying like hell. He still thanked God for the Morales's every single day. He had been thrilled when Shane had asked him that first night if Glenn could share his tent. The Dixon's had set up a tiny rustic one that looked like barely a step up from a blanket fort; Glenn doubted it would hold the both of them at once, let alone the two of them with him squeezed in between. Glenn hadn't particularly wanted to have a tent to himself after three weeks of solitude, and Peyton was generally a good roommate. He didn't snore and didn't initiate conversations in the middle of the night. He did however move around a lot. Not tossing and turning so much as moving in sync with his dreams. Usually Glenn found the soft rustling sound produced a comforting reminder that he wasn't alone, but tonight it was setting him on edge. With a huff he pulled on his tennis shoes and eased out of the tent.

Often when he couldn't sleep like this, Glenn would beeline towards the Dixon's fire and sit in companionable silence with Daryl. He wondered some times when the older man slept, it seemed he was always sitting there lit by the glow of the low embers. Glenn wasn't one to talk though, he had at least as many sleepless nights as he had restful ones. Over the previous month he and Daryl had developed something of an odd rapport built around insomnia and chain smoking.

During the day they barely knew each other, Glenn avoided the Dixons like the plague and Daryl tended to stick to his brother like glue. The Dixons kept to themselves for the most part, and they kept busy. Merle was still a racist, sexist fuck, and Daryl, while not nearly as repugnant as his brother, wasn't exactly Mr. PC himself, but they didn't go out of their way to insult to anyone who didn't approach them first and they didn't expect anything from anybody. While all the others in camp tended to wander around at a loss when they didn't have some specific task assigned to them by Shane or Dale, the Dixons didn't need direction. They were usually up before the sun, checking their traps, maintaining their equipment, butchering whatever unfortunate beasts had wandered into their snares the night before. And it wasn't just manly survival stuff either. They washed their own clothes, cooked their own food, kept their area neat and organized. From sun up until the last glow of dusk, if you sought out the Dixons they were doing something. Glenn had even seen Daryl giving Merle what could only be described as a prison style tattoo once. He had toyed with the idea of asking Daryl to give him one too, (he wasn't sure what but he knew he would be able to think of something) but he was worried that mentioning Daytime Daryl might harm the delicate balance of their night time interaction.

Nighttime Daryl was a different animal entirely. When it got dark the brothers would retreat to their own fire to sit and relax. Merle drank more often than not, sometimes quietly sometimes talking Daryl's ear off about something or other, and usually retired to the tent a few hours later. Daryl would remain there, sitting up most of the night. Just silently watching the fire. Glenn suspected that some of this time he slept sitting up, but the illusion of vigilance was enough to make him feel better on nights when sleep just wouldn't come. At some point he had started joining Daryl on those bad nights. At first he just sat by the fire and tried to keep his breathing as quiet as possible so he didn't disturb the other man, but over time Daryl had warmed up to him enough that one night in five they actually exchanged a handful of words.

Tonight though, Daryl wasn't sitting by his little fire. Glenn would be kidding himself if he thought his current unease was anything but a direct result of that. There had been a fight earlier, a big one, between the Dixons. No one knew what it was about, but Merle had been shouting and Daryl had looked angry. Eventually Merle had taken off on his motorcycle and Daryl had grabbed his crossbow and headed off toward the woods. Glenn had tried to stop him, cautiously because it was still late afternoon. Daryl had paused as he approached, but just said "Back in a few days. If Merle starts to cause trouble just try and give him something to do. He respects you more 'n the rest of them." Then he'd disappeared into the undergrowth.

Merle was back now, had roared back into camp a few hours after sunset drunk as a skunk and passed out without even turning his motorcycle off. Glenn had taken care of that for him and had even warned Dale who was on watch at the time to keep an eye on him, so he didn't wander off into the woods to take a piss and get himself killed.

For a moment after leaving his tent Glenn considered going to sit by Daryl's cold fire pit, but that smacked of pining, so instead he climbed on top of the RV and sat in the deck chair next to Andrea who was the current night guard.

Andrea smiled and passed him a piece of jerky.

"Anxious about the group scavenge?"

Glenn gave her a wry smile as he gnawed on the end of his snack. "A little, it's hard to make an effective plan when you have four unpredictable variables."

Andrea chuckled and took a swig from her canteen. "Well don't worry about predictable little me. I promise to do exactly what you tell me. I have no intention of becoming some walkers dinner."

They talked for a few minutes about the goings on in camp and the rumors they'd heard. The conversation trailed off into a comfortable silence and Glenn found himself idly wondering if Andrea would be interested in starting something up. Other than Shane whose understanding with Lori was the worst kept secret in camp, and T-Dog who was constantly flirting with Mrs. Morales's sister April, Glenn was the only one anywhere near her age that wasn't married or completely repulsive. Well or Daryl, Glenn conceded that he could have some serious competition there, though Glenn possibly had an edge because he knew Andrea's name. His eyes drifted toward the dark circle of stones near Merle's tent, again wondering if Daryl was okay and when he would be back. Andrea misinterpreted the worried look on his face.

"He's a bit of a loose cannon isn't he. I wish his brother would get back, I hate to think what Merle could get up to without Daryl around to keep him in check."

"hmm." Glenn gave a non-committal murmur, still watching the Dixon campsite. "Daryl said to keep him busy. Maybe we should take him when we go into town. He'd be useful, and it's not like he would cause trouble when it could get us all killed." He turned to look at Andrea.

She didn't look thrilled. "I guess. . . I suppose I would rather have him busy with us than bored here with Amy."

Glenn chuckled at Andrea's dark look. Merle wasn't dangerous, just dumb and ill-mannered. "Amy can take care of herself, I'm more worried about what Shane and Merle would do if there were no one here to keep them from noticing each other." Andrea laughed and agreed.

"What were they fighting about? Daryl and Merle?"

"How the hell would I know?"

Andrea gave him a puzzled look. "I thought you and Daryl were pretty tight? You guys are hanging out together for hours at least twice a week. You know, Jim tried to go sit with him for a while that one night last week when you were late getting back. Daryl swore at him so loudly that he had to apologize to Sara Morales because her kids heard it clear across camp."

Glenn remembered that night. He had been stuck in a drugstore for nearly an hour waiting for a huge group of walkers to shamble past. He'd used his time wisely though, carefully packing his big duffel so he could fit twice as much of that feminine stuff all the women swore was an absolute necessity and still cram in two cartons of Marlboros for Daryl. Daryl had been in a good mood when Glenn had finally taken his place by the fire, lighting cigarettes for the two of them and mentioning offhandedly that Marlboro had always been his brand, though Merle preferred Winstons so that was what they usually had. (Glenn had silently vowed to never bring back Winstons again.) It made Glenn feel warmth bubbling up inside to think that Daryl might have been worried about him. Maybe they really were becoming friends.

"There was a bit of a pool for a while over whether or not you would be able to turn him, but Lori put a stop to it. Said it was rude to speculate."

Now it was Glenn's turn to look confused. "Turn him to what?"

Andrea blushed scarlet, realizing she had said too much. "Nothing, forget I mentioned it."

Glenn just stared at her until she cracked.

"Make him go gay. I'm sorry, I know that's so narrow-minded of us. Just because you're gay doesn't mean your only interest in him is sexual. It's just, you're always staring at him and we all thought it was kind of sad and then someone pointed out that there aren't exactly a ton of cute little blonde farmer's daughters around for him to pick up and, well, what if? Not that I don't think you could if you put your mind to it."

"Wait wait wait. You think I'm gay?" So much for a competitive edge.

"Well aren't you?" Glenn really didn't know what to say to that. Luckily he didn't have to say anything. Andrea grimaced and turned away. "I'm sorry, I just keep putting my foot in it. Can we pretend this conversation didn't happen? Let's go back to the part about taking Merle on the supply run."

"Okay. But for the record, I'm not. And I like to hang out with Daryl because he's surprisingly good company."

"I know, I'm sorry. Amy will be thrilled."

Glenn decided that didn't bear thinking about. He settled back into his seat and watched as the sun started to come up, already mentally working around adding Merle as a variable in his many evade and escape plans for the coming day.

It was a dejected group that huddled around the low campfire four insane, blood filled days later. Their group of nearly thirty cut down to just eleven. Peyton had been among those killed in the Zombie attack, and Glenn had nearly cried when they tries to burn his body with the geeks. Now that the relief they had all felt when they were safe at the CDC was gone, the sorrow and pain of the last few days had caught up with them. Carol had taken the children safely to bed and everyone else was content to sit gloomily staring into the fire and contemplate all they had lost, not speaking. They were falling apart little by little and there was only one thing Glenn could think of to do about it. To make them stronger as a community.

"Her name was Roxanne, Roxanne McCoy." Everyone around the campfire swiveled to look at him and he met a ring of confused faces. He blushed a bit but soldiered on. "I met her at a freshman mixer when I was in college. We dated for about four months before I lost my virginity to her."

Dawning comprehension, everyone in the circle continued to look at him expectantly.

"She had curly red hair, and tons of freckles. We kept dating until I dropped out sophomore year, she transferred to some school in Mississippi after that to be near her family. I didn't find anyone who liked me enough again for four years." Glenn ducked his head down to hide his face, hoping someone would say something. Dale came to his rescue.

"Laurel. Never did ask her last name, heck, Laurel probably wasn't her real first name. It was the summer of '69, I was a twenty two year old kid about three days away from being shipped out to Vietnam. She was driving to New York from Florida for Woodstock and asked if she could park her van for the night in my driveway. She was flat as a board and had a face like a mud fence, but I figured I'd probably be dead sooner rather than later so, why not?" Dale shrugged and Glenn thought he could see just the slightest tinge of a pink on the old man's face.

No one really wanted to follow that, so it was a good five minutes before Lori sighed and began to tell her own story. "Mine isn't nearly so exciting, Rick and I had been dating almost since we were freshmen, and on Prom night he just looked so handsome in his Daddy's suit, and I felt like a fairy-tale princess, and I said to myself Lori-girl, nights just don't get to be any more magic than this. Rick was so sweet about it too, I would have done it in the back of his Mom's Volkswagen, but he said it had to be special and he got us a room at the Thunderbird Inn."

Rick was the one who blushed this time, but he quickly diverted attention from himself by turning to look at Shane. Shane scowled and folded his arms more tightly in front of himself, clearly in no mood for sharing. Just when the silence was starting to get awkward, T-Dog came to the rescue with his own story.

"Alicia Jones. I was seventeen and Alicia was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. I don't mean girl next door pretty or prom queen pretty, I mean full-on, girls hold on to your boyfriends, movie star beautiful. I joined the drama club just to get near her, I took her out to dinner every night after practice for two full weeks before I got up the nerve to kiss her. She told me after that she hadn't realized we were dating til then. A month later she got cast in a commercial and her mom decided to move her and her brother out to LA to help her acting career. We slept together the first and only time the night before she left."

Lori gave a little 'aww' at that, and Glenn thought they were probably done with the sharing for the night. But then, unexpectedly, Andrea shifted. She unfolded her legs and moved a little closer to the fire, and she uttered the first words she had since they had left the CDC all those hours before.

"Steven Foster, and it was our wedding night." The whole circle watched in rapt attention waiting for more. Glenn even thought he saw Daryl sit up a bit straighter. "We met in college and got married less than a week after graduation. He had these wire rimmed glasses and big blue eyes." Andrea stared unblinkingly into the fire, as if she had forgotten everyone else was there, waiting to hear more.

After a beat Dale was the first to ask what everyone was dying to. "Is it possible he. . . could he be somewhere?"

Andrea jerked back as if slapped and settled back into her protected cannonball position from earlier, tucking her knees up under her chin. "No. He died in a car accident two years ago. Drunk driver. Funny, this is the first time I've even thought about him since the end of the world, but I used to think of him every single day."

It was a morose end to the conversation, but Glenn would be lying if he said it hadn't helped him feel closer to his fellow travelers. He made a move to return to the RV, he had the early morning watch shift, when that soft, smooth voice had him dropping back into his seat so hard he worried he might have broken something.

"Beau Tucker. In the back of his daddy's pickup when we 'er sixteen."

Everyone gaped at him. Andrea finally asked hesitantly "Did Merle know?"

Daryl sneered and folded his arms in a defensive manner, closing himself off again. "Fuck no. You think I'm some kinda idiot?" After a moment he sighed and loosened his arms a bit. "I think he may have suspected. Sometimes he would pick fights and sorta imply things. We had one the last time I saw him. I'm sure most of you noticed."

There was a few moments of uncomfortable silence, everyone watching unsure what to say. Glenn's eyes were glued to Daryl's face as he tried to process what he had just heard. Then Shane straightened, and bit out "Vivian Thibodeaux."

Rick guffawed, tension broken. "You mean Big Easy?"

Lori elbowed her husband hard in the side before turning to Shane with a questioning look. "When was this? I can't believe she never told me."

Shane pointedly stirred the fire avoiding Rick's gaze. "It was the Wednesday before Senior Prom. Rick was bragging to me up and down about how he'd been savin' up to get the two of you a room in a nice motel, and damned if I was going to let him lose his before I lost mine."

This earned Rick another hard elbow, which he responded to by shifting away as much as the log he was sitting on would allow. "What about Sheila Haywood? You told me you lost it to her when we were in tenth grade."

"And the fact that you were willing to believe that crock of bullshit is the reason we been friends for so long. Sheila was a senior man, she wouldn't have touched me with a ten foot pole."

Laughter all around. The funerary mood lifted, everyone started to chatter and gossip like it was just an ordinary camping trip. Glenn tuned it out. He stared across the fire at Daryl as things started to snap into place. And he kept staring, even when Daryl caught him and held his gaze.

AN: I had a hell of a time with this one, I tend to get a bit bogged down in the details and this one was a super long account of the first season. I hope y'all don't mind that I cut the actual season out, but I figured we all know what happened, and there are so many good fics already that cover it. Please let me know what you think! Constructive criticism more than welcome, I know my writing has some issues :P