LUCKY. ⁽ᵃᵖ⁾

he doesn’t flinch, but his shoulder tense by the smallest degree. he lets glenn touch him, lets him be gentle with him. (it is a right granted to a trusted few.) he doesn’t met the his eyes, instead deciding to look almost beyond him. “ it’s nothing bad. “ he reassures again. “ i know it isn’t. don’t tell anyone. they’ll think the worst. “ his words gradually become panicked, until he has to cut himself short by forcefully chomping down on his trembling bottom lip. he can feel a pinprick of blood welling up between his teeth. 

“ i threw up. “ his delivery is pitiful, and he doesn’t even mean, doesn’t even want, it to sound that way. his clears his throat, quickly regrets it for it brought back the burning taste in his throat, and watches as glenn goes from full height to knees folded. “ i think. i think i just ate too fast. “

          daryl does a quick sweep of the treeline, looking for any signs of MOVEMENT before he lowers his crossbow: the last thing they need is to be surprised by the infected. it’s while he’s retrieving his ammunition from the MALFORMED HEADS of clickers that glenn speaks, and the bowman gives a short scoff as he stands up straight again. something bitter within him cracks back into place, and ACIDIC words take the place of the softer ones he’d planned on.

                    ❛ keep tellin’ yourself that. ❜

          if glenn still doesn’t want daryl there, then fuck it, he won’t be there. he’ll keep moving ON HIS OWN, back toward civilization. back to ration cards, and curfew, and everything he’s come to know during the last 20 years. if glenn wants to risk his life for his little PIPE DREAM, he can do it by himself.

          shaking his head, daryl slides his bolts back into place in his bow’s quiver and turns his winged back on glenn for the second time.

          embarrassment     turned into     frustration     with ease,   brows furrowing as he picks himself off the floor.     who was he     to think he was so     MIGHTY     !!     glenn wasn’t sure which     trait was worse     than the other     ;    his fear of commitment,     or his     recklessness.     regardless,      he had more     IMPORTANT THINGS     to do,     things the other hadn’t     taken the time     to    COMPREHEND.

          ❛   you     followed     me,     didn’t you     ??   ❜

          just as his voice   begins to   raise,   does it fade out within the   wind,     cracking,    breaking.    unaware of the   disappointed glimmer   in his   own eyes,    one could only take   so much   heartbreak     ...     he’s not quite sure why he’s   stunned   by his tactics anymore,     this wasn’t the   first time   the two had argued before,   &   it certainty won’t be   the last,    should they   cross paths again.    seeing the   dirtied wings   on his back only   solidified   these thoughts.   he’s viewed the garment   enough times   now to know it only leads to   abandonment.

            it’s grief that’s left him blunted and shrunken, and anger and fear that’s narrowed the range and expression of his sentiments ; but whatever the name may be, glenn’s companionship – the support he lends – makes him feel something, and he clings to it despite how much it terrifies him. his insides clench at the sudden touch, and whipcrack shoulders are jarred. he feels awfully small pulled close to the older male ( he loves me, he’s acting like i’ve never hurt him or anyone. he loves me, despite how i’ve lied, how i’ve killed, how i act, but why? ), and he hates that more than feeling trapped.

            in that moment, he doesn’t feel trapped. he almost feels, dare he think it, safe. no words are brought forth, only a slight nodding of the head, and eyes shut tightly. please don’t go, please don’t go, i can’t lose you, too, please don’t go, but i know you will, everyone always fucking leaves you. 

            once he knows the other isn’t going to pull away,   his arms snake tighter around the boy,   calloused fingertips brushing against the nape of his neck & holding him in place as he tries his best not to let his emotions get to the better of him.   mutt had suffered much more than glenn had,   done more damage & pain to himself than anyone else.   he was broken,   scarred.   glenn knew this,   saw it in the way he talked & his mannerisms.   he was just a boy,   but he had the soul of a war veteran.

the snap of a twig behind him has him tense,   shoulders rising as he spins around to face the other.   though the sight of him & not a walker calms him momentarily,   it’s not enough to let his guard down.   he could tell that dale hadn’t liked the other,   figured it was for good reason,   too   ...   but he supposed that was their business & not his.   what really had glenn spooked was the lack of hair on his head.   newly shaved.   breathing hitched in the slightest,   the boy avoids the other’s eyes,   calloused fingertips rushing up to pull the cap down on his face.

                ❛   oh   --------  !!   shane  !!   it’s just you.   i,    uh   ....   you have a   ----   a nice   ...   head shape ??   ❜  

gentle fingertips brush against the male’s eye patch,  fixing the gauze against his face  &  allowing the skin to breathe beneath it momentarily.   he hadn’t seen the other in so long,   heard his voice.   he had blacked out after the incident,   didn’t know what happened.   when he had woke up again,   the archer was gone.   no one would tell him what was going on,   they said he needed to rest,   recuperate   --------   but how could he sleep knowing that daryl was gone   ??   that carol had disappeared   ??   it wasn’t right.   glenn had refused help,   stewed in his own self--loathing   &   disgust.   he was useless now,   he could hardly move without assistance,   couldn’t eat anything solid.   how could he ever go back to being the man he was before when all that was left was broken   ??

regardless of his own thoughts,   when glenn heard news that daryl was back,   that he was safe,   it was the first time he had left the house on his own.   discolored   &   weak,   he had managed to pick the other from the crowd.   he wish he could say that he walked with confident strides,   ran to him,   but he was too frail to do so.   instead,   the male had managed the one thing he could,   to speak the other’s name.  ❛   ... d   ----   daryl   ??   ❜