Whispers of the Past

by FallenAngelEm

Majesty and Glenn have been together since way before the apocalypse. They love each other and are inseperable. Until Majesty goes missing. She ends up in a town called Woodbury and decides to stay. Her and Glenn get new love interests while apart, mistaking the other for dead. When the two finally find each other again, they realize how different they've become in such little time

31. Home (2)

Glenn's POV

The morning light crept through the cracks of the cell, harsh and unforgiving, as I stared up at the ceiling, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had settled in my chest. Last night had been a whirlwind, a mess of emotions I couldn't untangle. And now, with the cold clarity of morning, everything felt heavier, more real.

I couldn't stop thinking about Majesty. The way she had looked at me, the fear in her eyes when she pushed me away—it was haunting. I'd been so desperate to reconnect, to find some piece of what we had lost, that I hadn't seen what was really going on with her. I'd been blind to her pain, her fears, and now I was paying the price for it.

My stomach twisted as I remembered her tears, the way she had flinched when I touched her. I should've known better. I should've been more patient, more understanding. But instead, I had pushed her, and now… now I wasn't sure if I had lost her for good.

And then there was Maggie. The thought of her made my chest tighten with guilt. She had stood by me through everything, and last night I had betrayed her in the worst way. I had let my emotions, my need for comfort and familiarity, cloud my judgment. And now I was left with nothing but regret.

How did I get here? How did everything become so complicated? I used to be so sure of my path, so certain of where I belonged. But now, between Majesty and Maggie, I felt torn apart, like I was being pulled in two directions with no clear answer. The life I had with Maggie was real, solid, but the history I shared with Majesty was a wound that had never truly healed.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to shake off the memories of last night, but they clung to me, refusing to let go. The worst part was, I didn't know how to make things right. I didn't know if I even could. Majesty's pain, Maggie's trust—how could I fix something that seemed so broken?

I couldn't escape the feeling that I had ruined everything, that in trying to hold on to the past, I had destroyed my future. And now, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the gnawing fear that I had lost the two most important people in my life.

I felt a certain depression hanging over me, like a heavy blanket I couldn't shake off. The thought of getting out of bed, of facing anyone, felt unbearable. I was angry at myself, at the mess I had created. Maggie had needed me—really needed me—and I hadn't been there for her. I still had no idea what the Governor had done to her, what she had endured, and that ignorance gnawed at me. I should've been by her side, should've talked to her, comforted her. But instead, I had let the brief argument we had, where she asked to leave our shared cell, push me right into Majesty's arms.

I felt guilty, there was no doubt about that, but the truth was, I didn't regret it all the way. That connection with Majesty was still there, as strong as ever. I still felt an irresistible pull towards her, something that hadn't faded despite everything. My only intention had been to break through to her, to help her, but it had turned into something more. Being with her again had stirred up all those old feelings, feelings I thought I had buried.

Majesty had meant everything to me at one point in my life—how could I just turn her away like she had never been a part of it? She was my first in so many ways. She took my virginity, saw parts of me that no one else ever had, knew me inside and out like no one else did. How could I resist her now, after all we had been through together?

But then there was Maggie, who had stood by me, who had faced hell for me, and who I knew I had hurt deeply. The guilt was suffocating, but so was the confusion. How could I reconcile these two parts of my life? How could I choose between them, when both felt like such integral parts of who I was?

The more I thought about it, the more the depression weighed down on me. I was stuck, trapped between my past with Majesty and my present with Maggie, and I had no idea how to move forward.

The sound of Hershel's crutches echoed through the cell block, announcing his presence before he appeared at the entrance of my cell. He looked at me with heavy eyes, the kind of look that said he knew more than I wanted him to. "Can we talk?" he asked, his tone leaving little room for refusal. I barely had a chance to respond before he stepped inside, his crutches tapping softly against the floor as he moved toward the cot opposite me.

"I know this can't be easy on anyone," he began, lowering himself into the seat with a slight groan. He looked around the cell for a moment, as if searching for the right words. There was a weight in his gaze, the kind that comes from seeing too much, knowing too much.

I stayed silent, not trusting myself to speak. The knot in my stomach tightened, a mix of guilt and dread as I braced myself for whatever Hershel was about to say. I knew he wasn't here to scold me, but that didn't make it any easier to face him.

"You've been through a lot," he continued, his voice gentle but firm. "And so has Maggie."

I winced at the mention of her name, the guilt crashing over me like a wave. I hadn't even talked to her yet, hadn't asked her about what she had gone through with the Governor. Instead, I had let my emotions take over, driven by old feelings and unresolved pain.

"I'm not here to judge you, Glenn," Hershel said, his eyes locking onto mine. "But I need you to understand something. Maggie... she's strong, but she's hurting. And right now, she needs you more than ever."

I swallowed hard, the reality of the situation settling in even more. Hershel wasn't just talking to me as Maggie's father—he was talking to me as someone who had been through hell and knew what it meant to lose people.

"I know you care about Majesty," he added, his voice softening even further. "But you've got to figure out where your heart lies. For your sake, and for Maggie's."

I nodded slowly, my throat tight with emotion. Hershel was right—this wasn't just about me anymore. It was about Maggie, about the life we had built together, and about the pain I had caused by letting old wounds fester.

"I'll talk to her," I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hershel gave a small, understanding nod. "That's all any of us can do—try to make things right." He paused, looking at me with a fatherly concern that only deepened my guilt. "But you need to be honest with yourself, Glenn. Because whatever decision you make, it's going to affect more than just you."

"But what if I don't know?" I blurted out, my voice cracking with the weight of the uncertainty that had been gnawing at me.

Hershel paused, turning back to look at me, his expression softening with understanding. He took a deep breath, leaning slightly on his crutches as if the weight of his own experiences was pushing him down.

"Glenn," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "there's no easy answer to that. Life doesn't always give us the clarity we want, especially when it comes to matters of the heart." He looked at me, his eyes full of a wisdom that only someone who had seen the worst of the world could possess. "But sometimes, it's not about knowing for sure—it's about making a choice and living with it."

I swallowed hard, trying to process his words. The thought of making a decision without being certain felt terrifying, like stepping off a cliff with no idea what was at the bottom.

"You might not know right now," Hershel continued, "and that's okay. But what's important is that you try to find that answer. Talk to Maggie, talk to Majesty—be honest with them, and with yourself. It won't be easy, but it's the only way you're going to find any sort of peace."

He took a step closer, his voice softening even more. "You've been through hell, Glenn, and you're still standing. That tells me you've got the strength to face whatever comes next. But you've got to start by figuring out what you really want, even if that means taking a hard look at what's in your heart."

"You're like my own son, Glenn," he said, his eyes searching mine. "And that's why I'm telling you this. I don't want to see you tearing yourself apart over something that's already hard enough."

His words hit me hard, his sincerity making my chest tighten. Hershel had always been like a father to me, guiding me, believing in me. Hearing him say those words brought a new level of clarity, even if it was just a small one.

"You've got to find your way through this, for your own sake," he continued. "And remember, whatever you decide, you're not alone. We're here for you—Maggie, the group, and me. We'll face whatever comes next together."

I felt a lump in my throat, the emotion welling up inside me. I nodded, unable to speak as the gravity of the situation settled over me.

Hershel gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he turned to leave. As he walked out of the cell, his words lingered, filling the space with a sense of comfort, even amid the uncertainty.

I knew then that I had to talk to Maggie, no matter how difficult it would be. If I didn't, the guilt of my actions from last night would eat me alive. The weight of it was already suffocating, pressing down on me with every passing second. I had made her promises—promises to be there for her, to protect her, to never let her down. And I had failed. The thought of what the Governor might have done to her, the horrors she might have endured while I wasn't by her side, was destroying me from the inside out.

The betrayal was like a knife twisting in my gut, but it wasn't just about what I had done. It was about what I hadn't done. I hadn't been there for her when she needed me the most. I hadn't been the man I promised her I would be. And now, the distance between us felt like a chasm, one that I wasn't sure I could ever bridge.

But I had to try. I couldn't let this fester, couldn't let the guilt and shame consume me. I owed it to Maggie—to us—to face what I had done, to be honest, and to try to make things right, if that was even possible. The thought of losing her, of losing what we had built together, was too much to bear.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself out of bed, the decision pressing down on me as I prepared to face Maggie. I wasn't sure how she would react, or if there was any way to fix the damage I had caused, but I knew I couldn't keep running from it. I had to confront it head-on, no matter how painful it would be.

I walked past her cell, my heart sinking as I noticed her lying silently in bed, her back turned to me. She looked more defeated, more broken, than I had ever seen her.

"Maggie," I called out softly, my voice laced with concern, but she didn't respond. She didn't even move, as if my presence didn't register, or maybe she just didn't want it to. It was like staring at a different side of the same coin—both women, Majesty and Maggie, were shutting me out, refusing to say a word to me.

"Maggie," I tried again, this time tightening my jaw, the frustration and guilt mixing together as I dropped my voice, trying to push an answer out of her. "Please, talk to me."

But still, she remained silent, her body curled up on the bed, as if she was trying to block out the world—or maybe just me. The distance between us felt insurmountable, and the guilt gnawed at me even more. I had to reach her, had to make her see that I was here, that I wanted to be there for her, despite everything.

"Are we going to talk about this?" I asked, my voice a mix of pleading and urgency.

"Maggie, we need to talk about this. Not just us, but Woodbury." I could feel the weight of everything we needed to address hanging in the air between us.

Finally, she turned to face me, her expression unreadable, a storm of emotions just beneath the surface. Her eyes, usually so full of fire, now seemed distant, like she was miles away even though she was right in front of me. "Where did you sleep last night?" she asked, her voice cold and cutting, a question that hit me harder than any blow could.

I felt my heart sink further, the guilt tightening its grip on me as I struggled to find the right words. The truth was painful, but it was a question I knew she had every right to ask.

"You told me not to sleep with you," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, though I knew it was a weak defense.

"But would you have?" she shot back, her voice laced with pain and accusation. "Would you have done or said anything—because you didn't out there before."

Her words cut deep, slicing through the excuses I had been trying to cling to. She was right. Out there, when everything was falling apart, I hadn't said or done anything to make things better between us. I had let the distance grow, let the silence build, and in the end, I had chosen the easy way out instead of facing our problems head-on.

I could see the hurt in her eyes, the betrayal she felt, and it was like a punch to the gut. There was no denying it—I had failed her, and now I was paying the price.

"Do you want to defend my honor now?" Maggie's voice was sharp, her words cutting through the air like a knife. "You want to make it about the Governor making me get naked and stand in front of him?"

Her words ignited a fire inside me, a rage that surged through my veins like a tidal wave. The thought of what she had been forced to endure, the humiliation and fear she must have felt, made my blood boil. I clenched my fists, struggling to contain the anger that threatened to consume me.

But I also knew that this was more than just about my anger. It was about what she had gone through, and how I had failed to be there for her when she needed me the most. The guilt, the shame, it all mixed with the fury, leaving me feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"Maggie," I started, my voice trembling with the effort to keep my emotions in check. "I—"

"Maggie," I started, my voice trembling with the effort to keep my emotions in check. "I—"

"You want me to tell you how he got behind me?" she interrupted, her voice quivering as she gulped at the memory. "How he pushed himself against me, put his hands all over me. He slammed my head down and bent me over a table."

My heart pounded in my chest, the rage within me nearly suffocating. "Did he...?"

"Rape me?" she cut me off, her voice harsh as she paused, the word hanging in the air between us. She took a deep breath, as if trying to process it herself. "No. Does that make you feel better? Because I'll tell you—it doesn't make it any easier. The humiliation, the pain of that... it's not worse than seeing that girl prance in here and you... you..."

Her voice broke, the words trailing off as she struggled to hold herself together. The weight of her pain, her anger, her betrayal was palpable, and it crushed me. I felt sick, knowing that I had added to her suffering, that I had failed her in every possible way.

"You know—I had a choice," Maggie began, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "Either I take off my shirt, or he takes off your hand. I had just listened to Merle beating the shit out of you—and I chose to save you." Her eyes were blazing now, filled with a fury that made my heart ache. "Even when you remained silent when they put that gun to my head, I made my choice to give up the prison. For you."

She took a shaky breath, her voice breaking with emotion as she continued, "And not once have you shown that you would choose me."

Her words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of me. The truth of what she was saying was undeniable, and it tore me apart to realize how deeply I had hurt her. She had made sacrifices for me, put herself through hell for me, and what had I done? I had let her down, again and again. I had failed to show her that she was the most important person in my life, that I would have done anything to protect her, to keep her safe.

The guilt was overwhelming, and I didn't know how to respond. How could I? Maggie had given up everything for me, and I had betrayed her trust in the worst possible way. The silence stretched between us, heavy with all the things left unsaid, and I could feel the distance growing wider with every passing second.

"Maggie, I…" The words stuck in my throat, inadequate and hollow. I couldn't find anything that would make this right. There was no apology, no excuse that could undo the damage I had caused.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, reaching for her, desperate to bridge the chasm between us. But before I could even touch her, she slapped my hand away, her fury boiling over as she swung at me, again and again, her fists a mirror of the helplessness and pain she had endured.

"Go away!" she screamed, her voice cracking with the weight of her anger and betrayal. "You got your answer—now go away."

The force of her blows wasn't just physical; they struck deep, hitting me where it hurt the most. Displaced rage swirled within me as I stumbled back, her words echoing in my mind like a relentless drumbeat. I could feel the anger rising, a hot, suffocating wave that had nowhere to go. I left her alone in the cell, retreating into the cold, empty corridors of the prison, each step only amplifying the fury inside me.

I was more angry than I had ever been, but who could I be angry at? It wasn't Majesty's fault—she hadn't forced me into her arms. It wasn't Maggie's fault—she hadn't asked to be put through the torture she had endured. No, this was on me, and the weight of that realization was unbearable. I had no one to blame but myself, and that only made the rage burn hotter.

But the anger didn't care about logic or reason. It wanted out, wanted to be unleashed on something, anything. My fists clenched and unclenched at my sides, the urge to hit something, to feel the release of physical pain, growing stronger with every passing second. The prison walls felt like they were closing in on me, trapping me in a cage of my own making, and I wanted to lash out, to break free from the guilt and shame that were eating me alive.

I stumbled upon the other group members, noticing Carl hunched over the ground, drawing what looked like a layout of the prison in chalk. His concentration was intense, his young face marred by the same worry and determination that was weighing on all of us.

"What's this?" I asked, trying to shake off the lingering anger that still clung to me.

"It's where I found Tyrese's group," Carl explained, his voice steady but tinged with the same tension we were all feeling. "How they got into the prison."

I crouched down beside him, looking over his map. I needed a distraction, something to focus on other than the turmoil in my head. With Rick and Daryl gone, I felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on me even more heavily. Whether I wanted it or not, I had fallen into somewhat of a leadership position among the others, and this map was a stark reminder of our current situation. We were vulnerable, at risk of being attacked at any moment, and the prison had to be secure if we were going to protect the people inside.

As I examined the map, a new wave of anger surged through me, but this time, it had a direction—a purpose. I could place all this rage at the Governor's feet. He had turned my life upside down in more ways than I could count. What he did to Maggie, and how he had been a part of the change in Majesty, clouded my brain, fueling the fire that had been burning inside me since I left Maggie's cell.

"We secured this," I said to Carl, my voice tight as I pointed to the areas of the prison that we had already locked down.

Carl sighed, frustration etched on his young face. "He thought he came through here," he pointed to another part of the prison he had drawn up, highlighting a potential weak spot.

"Means there's another breach," I muttered, my mind racing as I tried to think of a solution. "The whole front of the prison is unsecure. If walkers just strolled in, then it's going to be cake for a group of armed men."

Beth, standing off to the side, looked nervous, her voice small and uncertain. "Why are we even so sure he's going to attack? Maybe you scared him off."

Majesty, who had been quietly observing, shrugged with a resigned look. "Because that's who he is. He won't stop."

"He had fish tanks full of heads," Michone added, "Walkers and humans. Trophies. He's coming."

As the others took in the gravity of the situation, I felt my anger crystallize into something sharper, more focused. The Governor had to be stopped, not just for what he had done to Maggie and Majesty, but for everything he represented—the chaos, the violence, the destruction. I wasn't going to let him take anything more from us. If it was a fight he wanted, then it was a fight he would get.

"We should hit him now," I said, the words spilling out with a force I could barely control. "He won't be expecting it. We'll sneak back in and put a bullet in his head."

"We're not assassins," Carol interjected, her voice steady but firm, trying to bring reason to my impulsive plan.

I turned to Majesty, my eyes pleading with her. "You know where his apartment is. You and I could end this tonight."

"That's a death wish, Glenn," she said, shaking her head, her words sinking into me like a stone.

I glanced over at Michonne, hoping for some backup, but she just sighed, avoiding eye contact, her expression weary. She knew the stakes, but even she wasn't willing to encourage this reckless idea.

"I'll do it myself," I insisted, desperation creeping into my voice. Something shifted in Michonne then, a resigned look passing over her face as she finally nodded, the determination in her eyes breaking.

"He didn't know you were coming last time, and look what happened," Hershel's voice cut through the tension, his tone heavy with concern. "You were almost killed. Daryl was captured. You and Maggie were almost executed."

I shook my head, unwilling to listen to reason. "You can't stop me."

"Rick would never allow this," Hershel pressed, trying to reach me, but his words only fueled my anger.

"You really think he's in any position to make that choice?" I snarled, the bitterness and frustration boiling over. I didn't want to hear his reasoning, didn't want to acknowledge the truth in it. All I could think about was the rage simmering inside me, the need to do something, anything, to take control of this situation.

"Think this through clearly," Hershel urged, his voice steady but filled with the weight of loss. "T-Dog lost his life here. Lori, too. The men that were here. It isn't worth any more killing."

"What are we waiting for?" I shot back, my voice rising. "If he's really on his way, we should be out of here by now."

"And go where?" I asked, the weight of reality clear in my voice.

"We lived on the road all winter," Hershel responded, frustration seeping into his tone as he tried to remind us of the harsh realities we'd already faced.

"Back when you had two legs and we didn't have a baby crying for walkers every four hours," I countered, grounding the situation in the current reality we were facing.

"We can't stay here," Hershel insisted, feeling the urgency of the situation pressing down on him.

"We can't run," I pressed on, determination solidifying in my voice. "We're gonna defend this place. We're making a stand."

Ignoring Hershel's heavy gaze, I bent down to face Carl, focusing on what needed to be done. "Carl, you and I will go down to the tombs. We need to figure out where the breach is."

Majesty scoffed, cutting in sharply. "You're going to take Carl? I'll go—take Kris even. He's a kid."

"I can handle myself," Carl retorted, clearly annoyed at being questioned.

"I need people here anyway," I said, trying to keep control of the situation. "In case something happens." I looked around the room, irritation bubbling up as I realized how scattered we were. "Who's on watch?!"

The silence only added to my frustration. Shaking my head, I stormed out of the room, the weight of everything crashing down on me. These people had no clue what to do, and deep down, I wasn't sure if I did either. But I knew I had to make something right, even if it meant taking down the Governor myself. At least I knew one thing for sure—Rick wouldn't just give up the prison. Neither would I.

Carl and I's mission was quick, but much to my dismay, we found nothing but walkers repopulating the tombs, inching dangerously close to the cell block we inhabited. The sight of them so close to our living space made my stomach churn. I knew I had to do something—running wasn't an option. But I was still lost in my new position, unsure of how to protect these people and keep them confident in our ability to hold our ground.

The conversation with Maggie had only added fuel to the fire burning inside me, and the interaction I had with Majesty fogged my brain, making it hard to think straight. Truthfully, I wanted to be away from both of them in this moment. The weight of it all was suffocating.

I knew I needed to get the others to reinforce the prison, to put up barriers where we could safely engage in a gunfight if it came to that. But more than that, I needed to be alone, to take action that would channel the rage festering inside of me.

I was ready to leave, telling everyone that I was just going to scope out the far parts of the prison, make sure it was secure. It was a weak lie, but I needed everyone off my back. My mind was set on one thing: revenge. I needed somewhere to place all the anger boiling inside me. The car was already loaded and ready to go.

The only thing stopping me was Hershel, watching my every move. He called my name, walking over to me before I had the chance to get away. "You're not going back to Woodbury, are you?"

I couldn't understand how the man was so attentive, like he knew everything. Still, I lied. "No. I'm just going out there."

"I'll go with you," he offered.

"I got it," I replied, trying to brush him off.

"By yourself? How can you possibly think that's a good idea?" Hershel pressed, his voice filled with concern.

"I can't just sit on my hands," I shot back, the frustration clear in my tone.

"You went on a simple formula run and got the crap beat out of you. Maggie was attacked," he reminded me, his words hitting a nerve.

His words only added fuel to my fire. "Are you saying this is my fault? I did what I could."

"No. I know you did," Hershel said calmly. "So does Maggie. She's one of the two people most precious to me in this world. I trust you with her life. Even with all this."

"Then trust me now." I said shortly. I got into the car and headed for the gates where Carl and Kris stood talking. Carl was prepared to open it but Kris on the other hand approached the driver side window, knocking.

I rolled it down, ready to face another conversation where someone would convince me to stay. But instead, Kris knew I was going to Woodbury. And surprisingly, he wanted to come.

I narrowed my eyes at Kris, feeling the tension rise between us. "I'm not dragging you into this," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"She's my sister," Kris insisted, leaning closer to the window. "I know you care about her, but I'm the one who's been there for her. If something happens to you, she's gonna lose it, Glenn. You know that."

"I'm not planning on dying," I muttered, though I wasn't sure if I was convincing him or myself.

Kris scoffed, shaking his head. "That's not good enough. You think you can just waltz into Woodbury, take on the Governor, and come out clean? You need backup."

I stared at him, feeling the weight of his words. I knew he was right, but the thought of putting anyone else in danger, especially Kris, made my stomach churn.

"This isn't your fight," I finally said.

"It's all of our fight," Kris countered, his voice resolute. "Look, if you're dead set on going, then take me with you. We stand a better chance together. Majesty needs you alive. I need you alive. Hell, even Maggie does, whether she's mad at you or not."

I sighed, the anger and frustration bubbling up again. But there was something about the way Kris looked at me—like he wasn't going to back down, like he was willing to risk it all too.

"Fine," I said, nodding slowly. "But we do this my way. We get in, we do what we need to do, and we get out. No heroics."

Kris nodded, a determined look on his face. "Deal."

With that, I rolled up the window, glancing at Carl as he finished opening the gate. The weight of what we were about to do pressed heavily on my chest, but I couldn't turn back now. Not with everything on the line.

As I drove, I had an itching feeling that Kris really wanted to speak to me about other things. It was just him. Ever since he was a kid, he had clung to me and been a big mouth. Every chance he got, he was looking at me, trying to find the right words to say. I could feel the tension in the air between us, and I knew something was eating at him.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "What, Kris? Spit it out," I said, glancing at him briefly before focusing back on the road.

Kris shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just… this whole thing, man. Majesty… Maggie… You and I both know this isn't just about the Governor, is it?"

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to keep my emotions in check. "What are you getting at?"

Kris sighed, clearly struggling to find the right words. "Look, I know how much Majesty meant to you. Still means to you. And now, Maggie... I don't know, Glenn. It's like you're being pulled in two different directions, and I don't see how this ends well for anyone."

I clenched my jaw, the truth of his words hitting harder than I wanted to admit. "It's complicated, Kris."

"I get that. But you need to figure it out," he pressed, his voice more serious than I was used to. "Because if you keep going like this, someone's gonna get hurt. And I'm not just talking about the Governor."

I stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his words settling in. Kris had always been the kid brother type, but now, in this moment, he was showing a maturity I wasn't prepared for.

"I'm trying, okay?" I finally said, my voice softer. "But right now, I need to focus on this. We need to take care of the Governor first."

Kris nodded, though I could tell he wasn't entirely satisfied with my answer. "Just… don't lose yourself in all this, Glenn. Majesty needs you, Maggie needs you. And I guess… I need you too."

His words lingered in the air between us, heavy with unspoken concerns. I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road. "I hear you, Kris. I do. We'll figure it out. But first, we take care of this."

Kris nodded, though I could tell he wasn't entirely satisfied with my answer. He hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke up, his voice softer, more vulnerable than I'd heard in a long time. "Just… don't lose yourself in all this, Glenn. Majesty needs you, Maggie needs you. And I guess… I need you too."

The admission caught me off guard. I looked over at him, really looked at him, and saw the echoes of the kid I used to know. Kris had always been the little brother, tagging along wherever I went, looking up to me like I had all the answers. Back then, things were simpler. We'd mess around with video games, talk about whatever was going on at school, and I'd give him advice on how to navigate the world. He was always eager to listen, always trusted that I knew what I was doing.

But now, things were different. The world had changed, and so had we. Kris wasn't a kid anymore, and I wasn't the same person he used to look up to. Yet, in that moment, hearing him say he needed me, it brought back memories of those old times. Times when life wasn't about survival, when the biggest worry was what game we'd play next or how to get out of trouble at school.

It was strange, seeing that vulnerability in him again. For so long, he had been the one to take care of Majesty, to be the steady presence in her life when everything else fell apart. He'd grown up faster than anyone should have to, but underneath it all, he was still the kid who looked to me for guidance, for reassurance that things would be okay.

And now, in this brutal, unforgiving world, he was still looking to me for that same reassurance. But I wasn't sure if I could give it to him. The weight of that responsibility, of being someone's anchor, felt heavier than ever.

I cleared my throat, trying to find the right words. "Kris, I know things are messed up right now. But I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here, for you, for Majesty, for all of us. We've been through too much together to fall apart now."

Kris nodded again, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You always had a way of making things seem less shitty, you know that?"

I couldn't help but smile back, the tension easing just a bit. "Yeah, well, I'm not sure I've got that magic anymore, but I'm trying."

Kris chuckled softly, the sound a brief, welcome reminder of the times before the world went to hell. "It's enough, Glenn. It's enough for now."

His words lingered in the air, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond we still shared, despite everything that had happened. And in that moment, I realized just how much I needed him too. Not just as Majesty's brother, not just as a reminder of the past, but as someone who still believed in me, even when I wasn't sure I believed in myself.

We hadn't gotten too far before the unmistakable sound of gunfire filled the air, coming from the direction of the prison. My heart dropped, and without a second thought, I slammed on the brakes, spinning the car around and driving at a dangerous speed back towards the source of the chaos.

The adrenaline surged through me, my mind racing as fast as the car. Fear gripped me, tightening around my chest like a vise. The idea that something could be happening to the people I cared about while I was gone—while I was out trying to escape my own thoughts—made my blood run cold.

Every second felt like an eternity as the distance between us and the prison closed. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear anything else. The thoughts of both Majesty and Maggie being in danger—possibly even paying the price for my absence—clouded my every thought.

I couldn't lose them. Not now. Not after everything we'd been through. I needed to be there, to protect them, to make sure they were safe. The fear of what might have already happened gnawed at me, urging me to push the car faster, to break through every barrier that stood in my way. I couldn't afford to lose anyone else. Not after all the loss we had already endured.

Beside me, Kris was tense, his hand gripping the dashboard, his face pale with worry. Neither of us said a word, but the unspoken fear hung heavy in the air between us. We were both thinking the same thing: we had to get back in time. We had to.

As I reached the prison, the truck the Governor was in passed by me, making me freeze in my tracks. The sight of him, so close, ignited a burning rage within me. This was the chance I had been waiting for—the chance to follow him and end it all.

My foot hovered over the gas pedal, my mind racing. I could do it. I could chase him down and make sure he never hurt anyone again. But just as the thought solidified in my mind, Kris's voice broke through the haze.

"Glenn—no! Not now," he pleaded, his voice laced with urgency and fear.

I battled with myself, the urge to pursue the Governor warring with the reality of the situation. I looked back at the prison yard, my heart lurching at the sight of the chaos unfolding. Walkers were pouring in, overfilling the yard, and the people I cared about were in the thick of it.

And then I saw them—Majesty and Maggie, fighting side by side, their weapons swinging with a desperate ferocity as they attempted to clear the walkers. The sight of them, alive and fighting, grounded me. The rage that had threatened to consume me gave way to a wave of overwhelming relief. They were alive. They were okay—for now.

But if I went after the Governor, if I left them now, who knew what could happen? I couldn't abandon them. Not again. The thought of losing either of them because I had let my anger take control was unbearable.

I let out a shaky breath, my decision made. "You're right," I muttered, more to myself than to Kris. I slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a halt as I watched the Governor's truck disappear into the distance. My hands trembled on the wheel, the adrenaline still coursing through me.

"Let's go," I said, turning the car back toward the prison yard. I had to be there for them. I had to fight alongside them, protect them. I couldn't let my anger make me lose sight of what mattered most.

I sped into the yard, driving right up to where Hershel was struggling in the middle of the chaos. Kris and I jumped out of the car, and together we helped Hershel hobble to safety, guiding him into the truck. "Kris, get him back to the prison," I ordered, watching as my brother-in-law nodded, concern etched on his face.

Once Kris and Hershel were secured, I turned back toward the mass of walkers swarming the yard. There was no time to lose. I did my part to clear as many of them as I could, swinging my weapon with a desperate determination as I fought my way through the horde. My muscles burned, but I pushed through, adrenaline driving me forward.

Finally, I reached the gates, making it inside just as the others were rallying together. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of relief and exhaustion flooding through me. But the reprieve was short-lived.

"Oh my god, Kris—what the fuck? I didn't know where you were!" Majesty's voice cut through the noise, breathless and filled with panic as she rushed over to her brother, checking him over to make sure he was okay. Then her eyes landed on me, and I could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "How could you take him and not tell me?!"

I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could get a word out, Maggie's voice rang out, sharp and accusing. "How could you leave at all?"

Majesty rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by the interruption, and turned her frustrations toward Maggie. "Can I finish being mad at him first? I promise I'll let you have a turn."

The tension between the three of us was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved anger. I stood there, caught between them, knowing I'd messed up, but struggling to find the right way to fix it.

"Look," I started, trying to find the words that would calm the storm, "I was trying to help. I didn't think—"

"That's the problem," Majesty snapped, her eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and fury. "You didn't think. You just acted, and now we're all paying for it."

"Majesty," Kris reprimanded her, his voice firm but gentle. He could sense the tension brewing, the delicate balance between Majesty and Maggie teetering on the edge, ready to erupt into a full-blown fight at any moment. Maggie was visibly seething, her fists clenched as she struggled to find the right words, the anger radiating off her in waves.

"Look, I'm sorry—I didn't know this was going to happen," I tried to offer, my voice strained with the weight of everything that had gone wrong.

"Of course you didn't," Hershel shot back, his voice laced with fury. "I told you not to go."

I could feel the walls closing in, everyone's anger pressing down on me, suffocating me. It was too much. I was tired of everyone piling on, blaming me for everything that had gone wrong. I had tried—tried to do the right thing, tried to protect them, but it all seemed to backfire.

"I said I was sorry. For everything," I muttered, my voice thick with frustration and exhaustion. Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away, the feeling of their stares following me as I put distance between us.