A/N: Sorry for the wait. I wrote this chapter but then came up with a plot point I wasn't planning on before. I had to drop hints the whole chapter and incorporating them was a PAIN, so I just rewrote the chapter. It took longer but it was easier.

Not BETAed so all mistakes are my own. My edit was very brief and there are probably a million mistakes. Feel free to point them out

Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously.

Chapter Four

When Glenn woke in the morning the first thing he noticed was how bright everything was. Then the throbbing headache made itself known, followed by an uncomfortable churning in his stomach. Glenn groaned and rolled onto his back, draping an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. Last night was a blur, memories jumbled together in a strange collage of still frames that didn't feel like his life. There was the bar, too many shots, Brent and—Daryl. Glenn shot up too fast, head spinning but he forced himself to remain upright, to edge out of bed slowly. He was unsteady on his feet but Glenn swallowed the urge to vomit as he made his way to the living room.

Daryl was fast asleep on the couch, black eye even worse than Glenn remembered. He was snoring loudly, eyes clenched shut in was appeared to be discomfort and the older man was still in the same clothes as last night; he hadn't even bothered to kick off his heavy boots. Glenn couldn't remember exactly what happened but he did remember Daryl getting angry, yelling at Glenn before storming out of his bedroom. Brimming with regret Glenn padded barefoot into the kitchen-when had he removed his shoes and socks?-to make an extra-large pot of coffee.

While the coffee brewed Glenn dug out a bottle of aspirin, take a few straight from the container, washing them down with a lukewarm glass of tap water. Glenn glanced back at Daryl but the older man was still sleeping, one leg bent up against the back of the couch, the other hanging off the edge almost knocking over an empty beer bottle. Once the coffee was done Glenn poured two mugs full-both black-and ventured back into the living room. Standing a few feet away Glenn called out softly, trying not to startle the sleeping man but Daryl refused to budge. Glenn edged a little closer, cautious, and nudged Daryl's thigh with his toes only to jump back when Daryl awoke with a snort, fist lashing out. Glenn yelped as he avoided being punched, coffee sloshing onto the scuffed wood floor.

"Wha's goin' on?" Daryl slurred, looking around anxiously, eyes finally settling on Glenn. They narrowed into a glare.

"I'm sorry," Glenn blurted, holding out the coffee as a peace offering.

Daryl eyed the coffee skeptically for a long second before running a hand through his sleep-ruffled hair, reaching out to take the mug with the other. Glenn stood before Daryl awkwardly, unsure what to do next; he couldn't remember why Daryl was mad, just that it been something he said. Daryl shuffled to one side of the couch with a wince. Glenn sat in the empty space, careful to not get too close.

"I'm sorry."

"What'd I tell you 'bout sayin' sorry all the time?" Daryl asked, poking at the bruise lining his eye.

Glenn thought before answering, "Not to?"

"So why're you aplogizin'?" Daryl sipped at his coffee, looking down at his knees. There were speckles of blood there that Glenn hadn't noticed before.

"Well," Glenn considered, "I said something that upset you."

"Upset me?" Daryl snorted into his cup. "What are we, a bunch of girls? You pissed me off, kid. It ain't hard to do so I'd get used to it if I was you."

Glenn nodded.

Daryl was shifting uncomfortably every few seconds, face blank and mouth shut tight but Glenn could see the pain in his eyes.

"You alright?" Glenn asked reaching out to touch Daryl's shoulder but thought better of it.

"Fine. Just a bit sore. Fucker was wearin' boots."

"Do you want to go to the hospital?"

"Kid, you an' I both know I don' have the money to be payin' some doctor to tell me I need to take it easy. Look Chinaman, I'm restin'." Daryl leaned back with a smirk, spreading out leisurely. He continued, "'Sides, ain't that bad. Been roughed up a lot worse."

Glenn wanted to ask but didn't, instead leaning his head back and closing his eyes in an attempt to ease the pain. His stomach was rolling and there was a stabbing pain behind his eyelids but Glenn tried to put it out of his mind, choosing to focus on the warmth of the cup in his hands and the steady repetition of Daryl's breathing. After a while Glenn found himself dozing off and thought for just a second that he may drop his drink but the cup was being slipped from his fingertips.

Daryl walked with a limp for the better part of a week but didn't complain once, brushing his pain off as if it were nothing. Glenn was kind of awed by the man's strength, realizing Daryl was everything he wasn't; strong, determined, and viciously independent. Glenn still put a Band-Aid on his paper cuts. The older man worked more than Glenn did, beginning at the crack of dawn and often times staying until the coffee shop closed; Glenn couldn't remember the last time he had worked fifteen hours straight. A few days a week Daryl didn't return home until almost eleven, hours after the coffee shop had closed, an old leather bag tucked under his arm. He would grab a beer and disappear into his room until the morning when Glenn would find him asleep on the couch.

Daryl didn't have a bank account, no debit or credit card, no checks. He always paid in cash and on time but Glenn had no idea what he did with the rest of his paycheck. It must be hidden somewhere in the apartment.

The older man was very minimalistic, choosing to wear shirts he probably got at Good Will, boots that were most likely older than a pair of shoes had any right to be, and never came home with material goods for himself. The most expensive things he owned that Glenn could see were his crossbow and the milk crate of records. Glenn would rather not eat for a week than go without his iPhone yet Daryl was perfectly happy carrying around a beat up, prepaid flip phone that looked minutes away from falling apart. It never rang, never vibrated-Glenn wondered why he even kept it around.

So when Daryl came home carrying a bag from Best Buy Glenn was shocked. He stared slack-jawed as Daryl set the box down on the coffee table and withdrew a white box, minimally labeled but obviously an Apple product. The pristine packaging looked awkward in Daryl's dirty hands as he fumbled to get it open, pulling a knife out of his pocket to cut the tape holding the flaps shut. He made quick work of the box after that, tossing cardboard carelessly on the ground before carefully pulling out a slim, delicate looking laptop.

"Is that the new Mac?" Glenn asked, excited.

"I guess?" Daryl said even though it came out more like a question. He started at the electronic device in his hand like it was a foreign object. "Guy at the store said it was good."

"Good? Daryl, how did you afford that?"

"I got money, kid. Some idiot only charges me two hundred bucks to live with him."

Glenn paused before realizing Daryl had cracked a joke, laughing louder than he had intended once getting over the shock. Daryl continued setting up the computer but Glenn caught the slight upturn of his lips, a ghost of a smile that stunned Glenn more than the joke.

"We don't have internet," Glenn warned once he composed himself.

Daryl looked thoughtful. "Can we get it?"

"Well if we split it 50/50 we should be able to afford it. Mine got shut off when I couldn't afford the bill."

Daryl was nodding but staring intently at the computer, tongue poking out of one corner of his mouth. It turned on silently, screen illuminated. Glenn watched a look of confusion wash over Daryl's face. His fingers hovered over the keys before resting in his lap, body fidgeting uneasily.

"How the hell am I 'sposed to use this thing?" Daryl growled, hands balling into fists.

"Dude, Macs are super hard to get the hang of at first. Trust me." Glenn moved closer to Daryl, their elbows brushing. Daryl didn't look away from the laptop. "They're a lot different than a PC, the software and programs aren't similar at all. I can show you?"

Daryl sighed low and long, hanging his head between his shoulders. He brought his thumb up to his mouth to bite at a hangnail before answering, "I ain't stupid."

"No!" Glenn shook his head wildly, "I don't think you're dumb, man. I've just used a lot of Apple products, I know how they work. Seriously I don't mind showing you a few pointers."

Daryl finally turned to look at Glenn, eyes shining with some unreadable emotion. "Sure. Why the hell not?"

Glenn reached over Daryl's lap to snatch the laptop up, placing it between the two. "So why did you get this, anyways?"

"None a yer business," Daryl responded coldly, cheeks flushing.

Glenn brushed it off and started his lesson, showing Daryl the basics. Daryl listened intently, nodding his head along with Glenn's words and asking questions when appropriate. Glenn had to repeat himself a few times and tried not to feel bad when Daryl became visibly frustrated.

"Sorry," Daryl blurted out about twenty minutes into their lesson.

Glenn did a double take. "For what?" He stuttered out.

"Fer bein' snappy with you. Yer just tryin' to help."

Glenn laughed, "What was it you told me about apologizing?"

Daryl glared but there was an amused glint in his eyes, "Real funny, Shortround."

TBC…

A/N: Please let me know what you think. Comments, thoughts, constructive criticism and suggestions are all welcome.

Also, Sparrowoftruth93 and I did a fic exchange. You should check the stories out. She did a virgin!Daryl story that I have been so desperately craving! I've gotten some prompts recently. I'm working on them and always welcome more!