A/N: More to come soon! I know this second half is way late. I was debating certain parts quite thoroughly.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Art belongs to my amazing friend MinuteCloser2Failing. Seriously. You see that skill?

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WARNINGS: Recreation drug use, drinking.

Chapter Seven (technically chapter 6.5)

Glenn's head was buzzing pleasantly and he couldn't help the silly grin he knew was on his face. Brent was explaining beer pong rules to a confused-looking Daryl from where he stood on the other end of the table with a guy Glenn had never seen before. Daryl held one of the little white balls in his hand, looking between Brent and the table.

"So, you get it?" Brent finally asked.

"This is ridiculous," Daryl muttered but stepped up anyways, ready to throw the ball.

"I can't believe you've never played before," Glenn laughed.

"Kid, do you forget how old I am?" Daryl said, eyes narrowing in on the six cups on the opposite end of the table. "When I was yer age me 'n Merle were playin' quarters, not beer pong."

Glenn was going to say something smart, perhaps call Daryl old, but then the man bounced on his toes and arched his arm and the ball went in the front cup without even hitting the rim. The beer splashed and Brent looked a little awestruck but he drank from the cup anyways, rinsing the ball off while he did. Glenn cheered, stepping up himself, but his ball missed. Daryl smirked.

"Are you sure you've never played before?" Brent asked, setting the empty cup aside. "Because that was some sniper shit right there!"

While Daryl continued to make every shot, Glenn missed and he was beginning to flush in embarrassment. Brent was calling out insults and the crowd that had gathered was watching in interest, laughing along. Daryl bumped their shoulders together and jutted his chin out when there was just one cup left for each team.

"C'mon, Chinaman," Daryl said, allowing Glenn to go first, "you wanna win, don'cha?"

Glenn finished his beer and lined up the shot, taking a few calming breaths. Daryl grabbed his elbow and shook, startling Glenn. "Aim, kid," Daryl instructed, "take yer time."

He nodded and did as he was told, trying to zero in on the lone red solo cup and tune out whoever was chanting his name. Glenn could see Daryl watching him out of the corner of his eye, and knew Brent was smirking and waiting for him to screw up. Letting his limbs relax, Glenn spared a quick glance at Daryl before loosing the ball, watching it roll around the rim of the cup. It wobbled precariously on the edge for what felt like forever before finally dropping in to land with a soft plop in the beer. Before anyone could react Daryl was tossing his ball through the air in a graceful arc, landing on top of Glenn's. Glenn yelled triumphantly but Daryl was as calm as always, drinking from a fresh can but Glenn saw the smirk on his lips.

"Oh, you bastard!" Brent yelled, pointing from the cup to Daryl and back again. "That's game! We don't even get redemption."

"Do we get anything fer winning?" Daryl asked smugly.

"Just the knowledge that you beat Brent in his own house. I don't think he's every lost."

Someone dropped a heavy hand on Daryl's shoulder a second later and Glenn watched, shocked, as Daryl dropped his beer to reach for his waist, fingers brushing over his knife. The older man's whole body had twitched, shrugging out of the grasp and into Glenn, their bodies colliding enough to cause Glenn to stumble. The man, at least a head taller than Daryl, held up his hands with a look of shock on his face.

"Sorry, dude," he said, voice squeaking slightly, "I just wanted to say congrats. Didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn' scare me," Daryl snarled defensively, straightening and shoving Glenn away from him.

Glenn bit his tongue against his retort, eyes narrowing in on the slight tremor of Daryl's body.

"Adventure!" Brent yelled from across the room, wrapping an arm around a pretty girl's shoulder. He had protruded a bottle of whisky from somewhere, most likely from his dad's liquor cabinet, and the two of them were sipping happily from it.

Grateful for the distraction, Glenn beckoned Daryl over, snagging the bottle from Brent. Daryl took it with a small nod of his head, drinking heavily.

"You guys wanna go for a walk?" Brent asked, pulling the girl closer.

"Do you have flashlights?" Glenn wondered, looking around the room.

Brent's face fell. "Maybe?"

"Don' worry 'bout it, I have a few in my truck," Daryl said, handing the bottle off to Glenn as he walked away.

A few minutes later Daryl returned .The older man was carrying three flashlights, a battery operated lantern, and a fresh beer. Glenn was a little shocked to see his crossbow hanging from his belt. A few people shot Daryl odd looks, Glenn noticed, but Brent was again impressed. While Brent was a friendly guy he typically didn't welcome strangers so openly, especially other men.

"What's with the crossbow, Chuck Norris?" Brent asked, leaning down to inspect the weapon more carefully. Daryl slapped his hand away when Brent reached out to touch it.

"You said we're goin' fer a walk, right?" Brent nodded. "You ever been in these parts before?"

"Obviously," Brent scoffed, faux offended, "my parents have owned this place since before I was born."

"No," Daryl shook his head humorously, "I don' mean in yer fancy log cabin, Wonder Bread. I'm talkin' 'bout the woods."

"Oh." Brent appeared to be pondering. "Well. No."

When Glenn laughed Brent turned on him with a scowl.

"Don't even start with me, G-Man!" He turned to Daryl, "He's never even slept in a tent before."

"You ain't never-" Daryl began incredulously but stopped himself with a shake of his head and a, "damn city folks," under his breath.


Glenn watched as Daryl instinctually took the lead, flashlight in one hand, beer in the other. He looked casual and comfortable but Glenn noticed the way the older man was watching their surroundings, ears trained in the direction of every rando noise. Most of the party had stayed behind but five or six people were trailing behind Glenn, most of them women.

"What if we get lost?" Someone called.

Daryl stopped and waited for everyone to catch up. Glenn moved in close, pulling Brent with him.

"Don' worry 'bout getting lost," Daryl reassured when everyone stopped moving. He aimed his light at the ground and said, "None of you are light on yer feet. I could follow yer trail without a flashlight."

Glenn knew Daryl was making fun of them somehow but he curiously looked under his sneakers and back the way they had come anyway. "I don't see anything."

Daryl looked surprised; mouth slack for just a second before he snorted, "'Course you don', Chinaman."

"So," Brent wandered close to Daryl's shoulder. Daryl didn't look at him but Glenn could tell he was paying attention. "What's your story, man? How'd you get so good at all of," Brent gestured at the woods, "this?"

Daryl looked angry and then hesitant, and Glenn was about to change the subject when he said, "My brother brought me hunting when I was five. Been in the woods ever since."

They were silent after that, the only sounds were their steps and the girls giggling behind them. Glenn didn't know how long they walked, happily enjoying his beer and the pleasant tingling that enveloped his entire body. He was caught off guard by the hand on his chest halting his movements.

"Dude, is that seriously an abandoned building?" Brent looked positively cheerful, pointing at what looked like a cabin straight from a horror film.

It was a single story building with fading whitewash and broken windows. The front door was hanging off one hinge and had suspicious looking holes in it (Glenn was fairly certain they were from bullets), and the roof was no longer fully intact. Foliage grew around and in the house, green vines creeping in through the windows.

"Let's go inside," Brent said, bouncing on his heels.

"I don't know…" Glenn glanced around skeptically, half expecting someone to run at them with an axe.

"Let me check it out, first," Daryl told Brent, wielding his crossbow. He held his flashlight under the crossbow to guide his way, walking in a slight, defensive crouch.

Slowly Daryl crept up to the house, looking this way and that, going until he was in and out of sight. Brent didn't seem worried but Glenn was skeptical. It was dark out even with the moon and the stars and Glenn had never been in the woods before. A moment later Daryl was back, telling them it was safe and Glenn followed the group inside. A short hallway led to a large room with a fireplace, a door to the left opening into another area. There was old furniture scattered about a scuffed and broken wood floor, toys lying broken in huge heaps. Peeling blue wallpaper lined the walls, covered in scratches and mold. Brent was running around looking at everything and Glenn found Daryl standing away from everyone else, peering into a closet.

The girls giggled and ran down another hallway, Brent yelling that he'd be there in a second. He walked up to Daryl and Glenn and slipped another blunt out of his jacket sleeve. His eyes were pinched almost completely shut, huge grin plastered on his face. When Brent lit the blunt Daryl seemed to perk a little, walking to stand closer.

"This place is so cool," Brent babbled, passing the blunt.

"I think there's been squatters here," Daryl said around a mouthful of smoke.

"What?" Brent squeaked. "Squatters? For real?"

"Ain't no big deal. If they're not here this late they probably won't be comin' tonight."

The group ran back in, a girl screaming. Daryl immediately raised his crossbow and aimed in that direction, searching out the danger. A bat burst into the room after the girls, flying around in confused circles. Daryl sighed, shoulders sagging, and dropped his bow back down to his side. The brunette from earlier wrapped her arms around Brent and hid her face in the crook of his neck. His thumbs up above her shoulder had Glenn snorting around a laugh. When he looked back Daryl was gone, and the blunt with him.

While Brent laughed at the bat Glenn roamed around in search of Daryl. The floor creaked under his sneakers as Glenn walked, flashlight guiding his way. He found a room with a large couch in it, broken light fixture hanging from the ceiling so low it almost brushed the ground. Suddenly there was someone next to him and Glenn jumped, twitching away. Daryl eyed him with an amused look.

"Jesus, Daryl!" Glenn gasped, "You scared the shit out of me. I didn't hear you come in."

"Cool it, kid," he held the blunt out in front of him, "just seeing if you wanted this."

The brown paper was short, only an inch long. Glenn reached out with unsteady hands, trying to punch the stub out of Daryl's fingers. Glenn walked away, puffing, to lean back against the wall. After a gulp of beer he pulled his hood up over his head and zipped the hoodie up a bit, closing his eyes. Rough fingers plucked the blunt from him and then Daryl was standing close enough for Glenn to feel the other man's body heat. Glenn opened his eyes to find Daryl staring at him with a raised eyebrow, motioning at the blunt,

"You want a shotgun?" He asked.

Glenn just nodded, slouching a bit more. Daryl blew the ash off the lit end before sticking it in his mouth until the unlit tip was between his teeth. Without warning Daryl leaned down so their faces were even, one hand braced on the wall above Glenn's shoulder, the other out of Glenn's vision. Smoke filled the few inches between their mouths when Daryl began to blow out and Glenn sucked in greedily, filling his lungs. It was harsh and fast and Daryl only stopped when Glenn clamped his mouth shut, unable to take any more. Daryl didn't move, only flipped the blunt around in his mouth and Glenn watched the way his mole shifted with every puff, the smudge of dirt on his left cheek, and the way he moved his hands. He was covered lightly in sweat, eyes glassy and bright. When Glenn exhaled, the smoke lingered thickly between them and Glenn could feel his eyes grow heavier.

"Where did you two fuckers run off to?" Brent yelled from the other room, his footsteps loud.

Daryl stepped back and flicked the blunt on the ground, grinding it out with the heel of boot.

"You're all chink-eyed," Glenn laughed, waving at Daryl's face.

"I can't even see yer eyes, kid. You still awake over there?" Daryl hefted his crossbow and kicked over an old Barbie house.

Glenn found himself giggling, pulling his hood over his eyes even more. Brent walked in and told them they were heading back to the party and Glenn was a little unsteady on his feet when they left. The walk back felt like it took less time but Glenn stumbled on a tree root about halfway there and when Daryl caught his elbow Brent laughed hard enough to send him to the ground, ass hitting the dirt with a rewarding thump. Daryl kicked at Brent when he walked by and Glenn almost didn't stop to help him up, but when Brent was on his feet again he opened the bottle of whiskey again.

After tipping the bottle back generously Glenn leaned against Brent, watching Daryl walk in front of him. Daryl moved fluidly and with easy, never tripping over a root or stumbling on a branch. While everyone else crunched and stomped Daryl's feet didn't make a sound, tread light and smooth. Glenn followed the movement of Daryl's hand to his mouth to bike on his thumb lightly before dropping his arm only to crack his neck.

Brent clapping him on the back broke Glenn out of his daze.

"Another round of beer pong?" He asked.

Everyone yelled the affirmative.


The sun was bright despite the hood Glenn had over his eyes. Though the air was cool the sun was baking him and whatever he was lying on was hard and stiff. Glenn was curled up on his side next to an empty beer can and holding a sleeping back and that's when he realized he was in the bed of Daryl's truck. Birds were chirping, a few people beginning to move about and leave.

"I found him!" Someone yelled and Glenn instantly knew Brent's voice.

A bag dropped loudly close to Glenn's head and he heard Daryl laugh, "Come on, Chinaman, time to get back. I need to work tonight."

Glenn groaned and flipped the bird in the general direction of Brent's laughter.

TBC...

A/N: Ok. So. PLEASE let me know what you think. I'm stressing over this chapter!